#it's done!!!! I've been sitting on this since March @__@

[ma-chi1993]

sorry for hijacking, the muse strked.

"Junho?"

"Yes?" Junho sits up from on the sofa and looks at the entrance: there stands his brother, casually dressed - quite a rare sight - and with the jacket in hand, hair strategically falling on his eyes, smelling of his most expensive cologne.

"I'm going to get something to drink with Gihun-hyung," he says while wearing his shoes, "Remember to empty the dishwasher."

Junho grins: "Alright, have fun on your date."

"It's not a date," Inho clarifies for the nth time, glaring at him, "We just hang out after work."

"It's gonna be just you two? Like the past dozen 'hanging outs' right?"

"We just hang out after work," he repeats, looking at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the wall near the entrance and fixing a strand of hair.

Junho grins sharpens: "So I can come right?"

Inho pauses: "Mh?"

"If it's just 'hanging out' I can come too, it's been a while since I've been out with friends, and I like Gihun-hyung's company," he argues, a shiver running down his spine at the look Inho gives him.

"No," it's all he says before wearing the jacket.

"You're no fun hyung," Junho pouts, "Everyone knows you guys are having a thing, why pretend to hide it? Plus Gihun-hyung likes me, he would be happy to see me."

His brother doesn't even reply, he just shakes his head and opens the door, right when Mansool was going to insert the keys.

"Oh, Inho-ah, you are going out?" she asks, entering the house.

"I'm seeing a friend," he says as he takes the grocery bags from her hands and brings them inside, nodding at Junho to help him sorting them in the cupboard. Junho does so with no protest.

"Oh you must be in a hurry then," Mansool observes.

"I'll put these things away and go."

"Junho-ah, why don't you join Inho-ah? You are always holed up in here when you are not working."

"Yeah, hyung, why don't I join you?" Junho repeats, smiling like a fox at his brother's glare.

After they are done putting the groceries away, Mansool retires to her room to watch a drama.

"Alright, remember about the dishwasher, I'm going on a d- I'm going!" Inho says as he walks to the door.

"But hyung," Junho can barely repress his laughter, "Mon said I can come."

Inho stops, turns, marches back to his brother and uses his most intimidating glare to compensate the ridiculous height difference between them.

"Hwang Junho," he hisses so that Mansool couldn't hear them, "You are not coming to my fucking date!"

"Shalalalala, My, oh, my, Look at the boy too shy, He ain't gonna kiss the girl," sings the radio in the small restaurant, and Junho happily hums along while eating his own kimchi fried rice.

"Is it good Junho-ah?"

"One of the best ones I've ever had hyung!" he replies, eating with pure gusto.

Gihun smiles, pleased, and turns to his right: "What about you Inho-ah?"

Inho grumbles something, expression sour, head resting on one hand while the other uses the chopsticks to play with his rice.

Gihun takes pity on him and gently touches his leg: "Inho-ah, I said I have no problem paying also for Junho-ah. C'mon, give me a smile."

"Yeah hyung, give Gihun-hyung a smile," Junho prompts him, smug only like someone that knows that his older brother is not going to do anything since they are in public and in the presence of his beloved could be.

Inho just glares at him and kick his shin under the table.

Idea that I got from that one tiktok sound

In-ho: I'll be back at six, I'm going on a date

Jun-ho: Wait, mom said I can come!

In-ho: You're not coming to my fucking date!

*cuts to In-ho and Gi-hun on a date, with Jun-ho sitting across from them*

[mustardyellowsunshine]

In today's episode of Shut Up Robin, Nobody Cares:

I finished Maison Ikkoku back in February, and I had a lot of feelings about the series. (It's good, do yourself a favor and go read it if you haven't.) As I read through it, I couldn't shake the thought: this is the caliber of romantic development Rumiko Takahashi can bring to the table?? We could've had this kind of relationship development in InuYasha??? 😭😭

The other thought I couldn't shake: InuYasha fans who still question the sincerity and depth of InuYasha's feelings for Kagome might benefit from reading Maison Ikkoku all the way to the end. They should read the final chapters of Maison Ikkoku, think for awhile about the blatant parallel themes found in InuYasha, and then try reevaluating InuKag's dynamic.

Now, I should clarify: I think the InuYasha series already makes it abundantly self-evident that the Inu/Kag/Kik "triangle" (🙄) is a complex situation that puts InuYasha in an extremely difficult position. (Well, it puts all of them in a difficult position, but you get the idea.) You just have to read the series with your brain on to see that. To review: teenage boy is tricked and terrorized by a demonic murderer; that demon successfully murders the boy's ex while masquerading as him; later his ex is revived from the dead against her will, wanders the earth as a vengeful spirit for awhile (who wouldn't be pissed about being brought back into that bullshit?), and is actively stalked by the demon who already murdered her once; teenage boy is falling in love with someone else when this happens, but he still wants to save his ex from being re-victimized by the demon who already brutally murdered her once. Anyone who sees that situation and describes it with a straight face as "InuYasha needs to make up his mind already" is probably never going to reconsider their assessment of InuYasha's character. They've already formed an opinion in defiance of the evidence. That ship done sailed.

But for some folks, I think experiencing the way Maison Ikkoku explores the same relationship themes—and particularly how it resolves those themes in the final chapters—could help them re-evaluate the emotional nuances in InuKag's relationship, and maybe help to re-contextualize the Inu/Kag/Kik conflict.

The parallels between Godai/Kyoko and InuYasha/Kagome are pretty obvious—Rumiko Takahashi consistently revisits this relationship dynamic in her work (it's present in Mao to a lesser extent). But I think Maison Ikkoku more directly confronts the emotional complexity of that dynamic. You can feel the difference in how RT more directly explores the messiness, complications, and pain of a) grieving a former relationship even while falling in love with someone else, and b) loving someone who is still tangled up in grieving their past. The InuYasha series obviously deals with those themes too, but Maison Ikkoku brings more focus and resolution to its exploration.

This may be for two reasons: 1) Maison Ikkoku had an older audience, as it was published in a seinen magazine geared for adult men between 18 - 40 years old, and 2) the relationship tension between Godai/Kyoko pretty much constitutes the main story of Maison Ikkoku; in InuYasha, the plot (such as it is) revolves around a vengeance quest and the monster of the week, and the relationship tensions between InuKag are second to that. Maybe that's why RT was more willing to get into the weeds with Godai/Kyoko and to more directly resolve the tension.

InuYasha does have some standout chapters where it explicitly deals with the tension of InuKag's situation (e.g., chapter 78, chapter 124, chapter 176, chapter 286, chapter 458, etc.), but there's this distinct hesitance in the narrative to resolve that tension in a substantive way. That's one of my beefs with the InuYasha series: it gives us moments of standout, concrete relationship development which then doesn't impact the future narrative all that much. The same relationship conflicts play out over and over again, well past their narrative expiration dates. See: Miroku flirting with women right in front of Sango after they've acknowledged feelings for each other; also the entire Kaō arc, which just... I do not understand the narrative purpose of that arc when it just exacerbates tensions that already existed and resolves none of them. Anyway. I digress.

You could argue this hesitance to permanently resolve relationship conflict comes from the episodic nature of InuYasha's storytelling. There's some truth to that, but that's not a satisfying explanation for why the main couple's relational status quo remains inert for the latter half of the series. Maison Ikkoku also does this to an extent—the "will they, won't they?" tension is strung along for as long as possible—but in general Maison Ikkoku does a better job of allowing relationship development to actually affect the narrative. Moments of emotional revelation and growth do change the relational status quo between Godai and Kyoko. They don't stay in quite the same relationship limbo that InuYasha and Kagome get stuck in for the latter half of the series. (It probably also helps that Maison Ikkoku is significantly shorter than InuYasha.)

All that to say: I think Godai/Kyoko is actually a useful mirror for examining InuKag, because they share the same themes and relationship dynamics without sharing the same narrative failings.

Okay, so: big time major spoilers ahead for Maison Ikkoku. Stop here if you don't want to see the conclusion of that series.

I want to look at how Maison Ikkoku's conclusion simultaneously revisits and resolves the main conflict between Godai/Kyoko.

Ahhhhhh my feelings!!! Man I love this series.

Okay, let's review the major takeaways from this scene:

• Notice how the tension between Godai and Kyoko—Godai's struggle with insecurity and Kyoko's feelings for her deceased husband—mirrors the tension between InuKag. And notice that the reader is encouraged to sympathize with both Godai and Kyoko. Godai is not "at fault" for struggling with insecurity and feelings of jealousy. That's a natural human feeling to have, especially in a relationship that hasn't been anywhere near secure until very recently. And despite whatever jealousy or inadequacy he may be feeling, Godai tries to see things from Kyoko's perspective. Part of Godai's struggle—the heartache of it—is his understanding that Kyoko is also not at fault. It's not her fault that she married before she ever met Godai, it's not her fault her husband died, and it's not her fault that she's struggling with the grief of that tragedy. She's trying to reorient herself to her new life after loss; she's falling in love with Godai, but she's also scared of betraying her husband's memory. (Let's hold that mirror up to InuYasha now, shall we? SHALL WE?) Moving on from Soichiro emotionally represents to Kyoko a breach of duty to a loved one.

• To reiterate: neither Godai nor Kyoko are "at fault" in this situation. That's precisely why it's a tragedy. They both have to process painful, messy feelings; both their feelings are valid and understandable. (Hold that mirror up to InuKag, girl. HOLD IT UP.)

• Notice how Godai explicitly acknowledges that loving Kyoko means loving the Kyoko who once loved Soichiro. "On the day I met Kyoko, you were already within her. That's the Kyoko I fell in love with." It's impossible to divorce Kyoko from her feelings for her former husband: that part of her life significantly shaped her into who she is. And I just love that Godai is hashing out his feelings at Soichiro's grave: it shows a sort of respect for Soichiro's memory, but more importantly it also shows that Godai knows his negative feelings can't ultimately be "fixed" by Kyoko. If she could fix them, he'd be having this conversation with her. (And by this point in the series they have had this conversation.) But Godai knows he's the only one who can truly work through/resolve his insecurity—especially now, when Kyoko has already assured him that she loves him—and I love how the scene's setting subtly demonstrates that. Soichiro's ghost is haunting Godai's feelings, not Kyoko's, and Godai is trying to work through that with Soichiro himself. There's no love triangle to resolve here: what needs resolving is Godai's own feelings of inadequacy which no amount of assurance from Kyoko can ultimately "fix." This is his ghost to fight. (We get an echo of this kind of inner conflict in chapter 458 of InuYasha: Kagome directly wrestles with the "ghost" of Kikyo and struggles toward some resolution of her own insecurities.... Only for the Kaō arc to come along later and materially damage that resolution and character growth for no clear reason, BUT I DIGRESS.) And this scene shows that Godai wins that fight: he comes to understand that loving Kyoko has to include accepting her past. Kagome reaches a very similar understanding in chapters 175 and 176 of InuYasha.

• To reiterate: Maison Ikkoku's conclusion is not the resolution of a "love triangle." It's the resolution of a series-long conflict, which is completely different. In order for love triangles to work—to actually function as love triangles—two competing love interests have to be viable options. This is quite evidently not the case in Maison Ikkoku: Soichiro is dead at the start of the series. It's literally impossible for Kyoko to choose him in any meaningful way. RT blatantly acknowledges this early in the series when Kyoko's father-in-law tells her she has to live her life. I cannot stress enough how self-consciously the series is not about a love triangle between Godai/Kyoko/Soichiro. (Mitaka is another matter entirely, for a different post.) Rather, the series is about the damaging power of grief in our lives, the rocky and painfully non-linear journey to healing from that grief, and how messy, fraught, and ultimately profoundly beautiful it is to love another person for exactly who they are — past pain/trauma and all. (Please for the love of heaven hold that mirror up to InuKag.)

• No, you know what? I'm not leaving that at a parenthetical. I'm just gonna say it: exactly as Maison Ikkoku is not about a love triangle, InuYasha isn't either. For the same reasons as stated above, the Inu/Kag/Kik dynamic is not ultimately a love triangle because Kikyo is dead at the start of the series. And while her spirit is magically revived—in an altered/diminished form—she is still not truly alive. The story conspicuously communicates this: her body is literally created from decomposing bones and cannot sustain itself (she needs to consume souls—other deceased spirits—to remain animated), symbolically suggesting she is of the dead even as she walks among the living. This is a facsimile of life. RT is not subtle about this. Kikyo is a tragic and complex character whose arc can be interpreted in many ways, but I think it's fair to say that the series self-consciously represents her as a past which can't be recovered. The damage has been done. She is dead, time continues to move forward, and there's no reversing that. (That's, again, why it's a tragedy.) Even her resurrected body symbolically represents this reality via death imagery. Ergo, from the very start of the series—just as we see in Maison Ikkoku—Kikyo is not a truly viable option for InuYasha. He can't choose her in any meaningful way. To "choose" her would be to essentially choose death—abandonment of life—just as Kyoko choosing Soichiro would make her "a wife who hadn't died yet." Kikyo represents an irrecoverable past just as Soichiro does. And the main thematic trajectory of each series does not suggest that Kyoko/InuYasha should give up on life by choosing death — it suggests they should choose life. Godai and Kagome conspicuously represent life, the possibility of living into the future. (Kagome is literally from the future, that's how unsubtle RT is about this.)

(A quick aside while we're here: no, Kikyo's not being a viable option does nothing to diminish the sincerity of InuYasha's feelings for Kagome. Kagome is not a "second choice," for the love of God the series blatantly addresses that very thing many, many times—like it's right there y'all—and I have already written a long ass post about why Kagome's insecurity over InuYasha's feelings for her shouldn't be taken as gospel truth.)

So, rather than being an actual love triangle, I think the Inu/Kag/Kik dynamic is a complicated emotional landscape that explores the same themes Maison Ikkoku does: how grief and trauma affect our lives, how painful and messy it can be to heal from that grief, and that loving someone—choosing to take that mutual risk with them—means trusting that they mean it when they tell/show us they love us, and choosing to trust them more than our own insecurities.

It's just that Maison Ikkoku explores those themes a little better. 😅 Which is why I think it makes a good mirror for re-examining InuKag: all the same themes without all the narrative failings and missed opportunities. ✌🏼

[mooonjin]

Reminiscing

Pairing: Viktor x f!reader

Warnings/Tags: 16+ because its bit suggestive so shooooo - tin/machine viktor, SLIGHT submissive viktor, SLIGHT submissive reader (hopefully its pg enough), swtiching, exes, trying to get back together (oof dont do that), suggestive innuendoes, touchy feely mentions, f!reader implied but no use of feminine pronouns — tell me if I've missed anything!

Part Two >

It had been years since you last saw Viktor, yet the memory of your parting remained etched into your mind like a wound that refused to heal. You remembered the way his gaze had shifted, once warm and full of curiosity, now cold and unyielding. His obsession with the Glorious Evolution consumed him entirely, leaving little room for anything—or anyone—else in his life. 

He spoke in absolutes, his words more like calculations than sentiments. You watched helplessly as the person you once knew vanished piece by piece, replaced by a man driven by a vision far beyond your grasp.

The day you walked away was devastating. You hoped, perhaps foolishly, that he might pause, might see the toll his ambition was taking on everything he once held dear. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Viktor had chosen his path and you had no choice but to choose yours.

In the years that followed, his name became a distant echo, carried to you only by the occasional whisper of rumours. Tales of the Machine Herald, a figure deemed a God, filtered through the shadows of the world. You heard of his relentless march toward perfection, but not once did he cross your path. Not once did you imagine he would.

Until tonight.

The moment you flicked on the light in your living room, your heart stopped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush.

Someone was there.

Seated in your armchair like they owned the place, their silhouette sharp against the glow of the lamp. You froze, instincts screaming at you to run, to fight, to do anything but stand there rooted in place. For a moment, they said nothing and neither did you. The stillness stretched thin.

Then, their voice cut through the tension like a blade, calm and deliberate.

“We need to talk.”

Your chest rises and falls erratically, the sound of your ragged breathing filling the heavy silence around you. He stays where he is, his presence is unnervingly calm. The dim light catches the gleam of his golden eyes. It feels alive, almost predatory, as it fixes on you. 

“Are you done gasping for air?” he asks after a long moment, his voice gripped with impatience. The words slice through the room as if your panic were little more than an inconvenience.

“What the hell—who are you? Get out!” you exclaim, your voice raw and trembling with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. Your fists clench at your sides, your body tense and coiled, ready for a fight or flight you haven't yet decided on. Your eyes dart around the room, searching for something—an escape, a weapon, an explanation—anything that could make sense of the stranger sitting so calmly in your home.

The figure doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react to your outburst. Instead, he remained perfectly still.

“You know who I am,” he replies, his voice distorted by the rough mechanical overlay of the mask he wears. The silence stretches taut, heavy with tension, his lack of movement somehow more menacing than any action could be.

Then, with a faint whir and the soft ‘shing’ of metal, he shifts slightly. The purple artificial muscles in his left arm flex beneath the layers of metal, “And there’s no way I’m leaving until we’ve spoken."

He leans forward in the chair. You take a step back, your foot catching slightly on the edge of the rug, but you don’t dare look away from him. Another step, then another, the distance between them never feeling like enough. 

You stumble slightly as your heel brushes against the wall, your retreat halted. You were trapped between the hard surface behind you and the immovable figure in front. 

Yet he doesn’t rise. He doesn’t chase. He simply watches.

With a deliberate motion, he takes a step forward, and another, closing the space between you with ease. Panic rises in your chest, but before you can react, he’s there, leaning over you. His body is so close, trapping you between himself and the walls of your home.

“You’ve changed,” he remarks after a long pause as he regards you like an old friend. His eyes narrow slightly, taking in every detail of your appearance. 

“You look… softer,” he adds, his tone flat and dismissive, as if this change in you is something that doesn’t sit right with him. You don't miss how mechanical his voice sounds.

“Who... are you?!” The words escape in a rush. Your voice shakes, betraying the fear that is starting to creep up your spine. Who is he? Why does he feel so familiar, and yet so... wrong?

There’s no trace of recognition, no warmth in the air, just cold steel and the distant hum of something supernatural beneath his skin.

His fingers graze your skin lightly before gently grasping your chin, the coldness of his touch like ice. His grip is firm but there’s an unsettling gentleness to it. He tilts your face upward, forcing you to look into his eyes. 

You can feel the weight of his touch and yet, it feels like it’s not just physical. It’s invasive, as though he’s reaching inside, probing for something. Your neck feels exposed, your breath catching slightly as your body instinctively tenses. 

There’s nothing soft, nothing human about his stare. It’s all too alienated, too distant. The faint hum of his prosthetic arm seems to vibrate through the air, a constant reminder that whatever—whoever—this is, it isn’t entirely human anymore.

He leans in slightly, his head tilting to one side, as if pondering the absence of recognition in your expression.

His mask doesn’t convey anything, “You really don’t recognise me?” His tone carries an edge of disbelief, as though it’s almost unthinkable that you wouldn’t. He shifts his weight slightly, but his grip doesn’t loosen, his fingers still lightly holding your chin.

“Take your mask off!” your voice firmer now, though it trembles with the intensity of your frustration. The metallic distortion of his voice only makes it worse, the mechanical overlay making everything feel distant. He’s not any person you could remember, not even close.

He raises an eyebrow at your demand, "Very well," he mutters, his voice still tinged with that mechanical rasp but there's an odd calmness in it now. He pulls it free and it’s as if a veil is lifted from the air. 

What lies beneath the mask is a face you know all too well, yet so different from the last time you saw it. His features are gaunt, sharper than you remember, as if the years have carved something out of him.

His skin is pale, almost ghostly under the light. There’s no mistaking it. His eyes, though shinier, still carry a familiarity that hits you like a wave. It’s him. The man you once knew—his face, his expression, the very essence of the person he was, buried beneath the mask and the years.

For a moment, you just stare at him, speechless. He’s right in front of you now.

Real. Yet he feels like a ghost, like a shadow of the man you once knew.

"… What happened to you?" 

It’s the first thing that comes to your mind and it seems to carry the weight of everything that’s changed, everything that has shifted between the two of you over the years. 

You stare at him, your gaze traveling over the sharp angles of his face, the hardness in his eyes. This isn’t the person you once knew, the person you once trusted and once loved.

The question seems to amuse him, “What happened?” He echoes back to you, his voice ringing with that familiar accent of his. A humorless smile twists at the corner of his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. The smile is dull, "Piltover happened," he adds, as if the mere name of the city is enough to explain everything.

"What happened," he says again as a growl now, “is that Zaun was cast aside—ignored, neglected, abandoned.”

His words hit you. Zaun. That forgotten, broken city that had always been on the edges of Piltover’s gilded perfection. The place that had been swallowed up by the ambitions and the indifference of those who held power.

The place where everything was left to rot, "So I made the city better, myself." His voice is steady, but there’s a dangerous edge to it now.

“And now Piltover is afraid.” 

Before you can even react, he reaches up with a swift, practiced motion, placing one hand on the wall beside your head. His fingers splayed wide, as though he owns the very space you’re standing in. 

“And you?” he asks, his voice dropping even lower, laced with taunting amusement. The question hangs in the air, thick with challenge, daring you to respond. “Are you afraid of me?”

It’s a question loaded with intent, the kind of question that isn’t meant to be answered, but to make you feel small. However there’s something else in his voice, something... hungry. His words aren’t just a challenge, they’re a test, a way for him to gauge whether or not you see the change in him. 

There’s a part of you that wants to deny it, to pretend he’s still the person you once knew, but the truth is right in front of you. This is not the same Viktor.

“You’re not a person,” you’re not sure if he can hear the quiet desperation in your voice as you speak. But as his gaze locks with yours, the chilling look in his eyes seems to confirm what you fear most. Whatever humanity once existed in him is long gone, replaced by something far more dangerous.

He’s not a person. Not anymore.

“That’s the first thing you’ve said that isn’t obvious,” he sneers, his voice dripping with disdain, “I’m as human as you, if not more so,” he rasps, his words cutting through the space between you with confidence.

There’s a hum in his voice, a certain finality in his tone. “I still have a soul—a heart. One that beats just for you.”

His claim is so absurd, so twisted. A heart that beats just for you? He sounds like he believes it, like he truly believes that his obsession, his transformation, was somehow a sacrifice made for you. 

His hand on your chin tightens and you can’t help but flinch. Here he is, speaking of love and devotion as if those words still carry any meaning. As if you’re supposed to believe him. 

“No, we parted years ago.” The statement feels heavier than you expected. His expression flickers, ever so slightly, the faintest crack in his demeanor. The bitter smirk that had curled his lips falters for just a second before settling back into place.

“We did,” he says, a blend of mockery and intimacy. He pulls back just enough to look you in the eyes. The corner of his lips quirks into a sly, humorless smirk. “I always parted you… in bed, that is.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line as if holding back the sharp retort you wanted to hurl at him.

He laughs again, this time his chuckle is dark and deep, “You remember that, don’t you?” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss. “You remember how I used to make you scream,” he says, the statement suggestive as it sounded. 

His smile widened, the curve of his lips taking on an unsettling mix of nostalgia, “I’d drop to my knees for you,” he murmured, his voice low and smooth. “Anytime, anywhere… begging you to touch me, just where I needed you most.��� His eyes burned into yours. 

His hand finally released your chin, the absence of his grip almost startling. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, his fingers trailed down your neck in a slow motion, the touch lingering just enough to make your skin prickle. When his hand slid around your waist, the shift in contact was seamless.

“You didn’t just take my heart when you left me,” he continued, his voice softening into a purr that sent a shiver down your spine. “You broke it.” Viktor whispered. His lips quirked upward again, but this time, the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“You know why we split,” you say, your eyes narrowing as you force yourself to meet his gaze, despite the suffocating proximity.

"Always in the lab,” he murmurs, his voice softening slightly, but the growl lingers beneath the surface, ready to rise again. “Late into the night, always trying to find a new way to reach the Glorious Evolution.” His lips curl into a faint, humorless smirk, as though mocking himself as much as the memory of his relentless drive. “Always chasing perfection… and always losing sight of everything else.”

His fingers continue their slow, deliberate path down your body. His hand finally reaches the edge of your shirt, pausing there for the briefest of moments before grabbing it and lifting it slowly.

The fabric drags against your skin, exposing your chest inch by inch. His gaze flickers down, and a faint smirk tugs at the corner of his lips. 

“You really are soft now,” he murmurs, "so soft."

You grimaced, "Stop it."

“Why?” He asks, his fingers moving even further down, sliding over the top of your thighs. “You don’t like it when I touch you?”

You instinctively swat his metal hand away but the moment your hand meets the hard, surface of his prosthetic, a sharp jolt of pain runs up your arm. You winced in result. 

He grabs your wrist in a sudden, forceful motion, his fingers tightening with a painful grip, “Don’t do that.” He says, a warning tone in his voice. “Don’t swat at me like I’m some filthy little pest, when you used to kiss my hands like I was your god.”

"You're no God." You try to pull your wrist free, but his grip doesn’t budge.

“I’ve never stopped wanting you.” He says, leaning down to bury his face in the side of your neck. Viktor lets go of your wrists and instead pushes himself between your legs, pinning you to the wall with his body.

“I thought of you when I was supposed to sleep.” He purrs, his voice soft and rough in your ear. “I thought of you when I woke up.”

Then, with a deliberate movement, his body shifts closer, and you can feel the undeniable pressure of him grinding against you, pushing you harder into the wall. “I thought of you when I was desperate.” 

Viktor's lips are close to your ear, his breath warm and unsteady as he speaks again, this time with a cruel twist. "You don’t even know, do you? How much I’ve ached for you." His words hang in the air. 

“I thought of the way you looked back then.” He says, one of his hands trailing back down, grabbing your thigh and wrapping it around his waist. “When I still had you…”

He presses close to you, his hips pushed firmly against yours and his body close enough that you can feel the heat from his body against your skin. “How your skin used to taste…..”

“...You need to leave, Viktor.” You murmur. He leans in just a fraction closer, his lips curling into a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. There’s no amusement there. 

“Oh, I’ll go.” He says, his lips tracing a path over your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses over your skin.

“But not until we’ve caught up.” He lets go of your hair, one hand grabbing your thigh to keep your leg wrapped around his hip, while the other goes to your shirt, grabbing hold of the material once more.

“Maybe we should start with a little… reminiscing.”

Post Notes: lol i want to make another part but wioth smut oopsise!!!!!!!!!!!! viktor is eating my brain rn

~ ~ ~

my taglist form!

[slutforln4]

little talks

part 1

landoxy/nreader

summary: in which Lando and you are forced to breakup due to his mental health getting much worse but will you find your way back together?

warnings: tooth rotting fluff towards end or in further parts maybe? definitely angsty, maybe some Oscar hate? not from my side but just from the POV of the story, suggestive at some parts maybe

not proof read literally wrote this in like 10 minutes cause I was bored lol tell me if y'all want another part fro this

March 2025

Lando and you have been dating since his debut season in F2, so it's been quite some time together so far. Sure, hate was always a thing, especially with Lando being this famous at such a young age and you basically being a "no one" in others eyes. Nevertheless you didn't quite care about it as much as Lando did, why would you? You're happy, he's your high school sweetheart, or more like racetrack sweetheart since you were always there with him, ever since.

As much you were able to deal with the hate, you must admit that last year was tough. Lando losing the championship fight and Oscar constantly beating him one race after another. As if that didn't already have had the biggest toll on his mental health, this season started just like the last one.

Jeddah just happened. Oscar ending up on P1 while Lando barely made it to P4. You already knew how the drive back to the hotel was gonna be, and how much worse the long flight home to Monaco was going to be. As if those long drives after bad races weren't already bad enough for you, Land decided to give you the silent treatment from the minute you got into your apartment in Monaco the next morning. Oh boy, the next few weeks are gonna be a challenge...

May 2025

First race in may, Miami, your favourite. Not just because lando got his first win here last year, but because of all the memories you've made here, especially the one where he proposed to you here last year after the race...

You just got here and made your way to the hotel immediately since it was like 11 p.m. and you're both jet lagged as shit. The mood has gotten maybe a little better, but it's as if something has changed after the last race cause he definitely doesn't ac like the Lando you've known for years anymore.

The first thing you did when getting into the room was to put your stuff down and get into the bathroom to have a shower, not knowing how that will set Lando off.

"You're going in the shower first now huh..? After I juts complained the whole ride that I'm sore and want a shower as soon as we get ti the hotel? damn, thank you..." He mumbled under his breath sarcastically while unpacking his suitcase a little.

You didn't want to fight right now, you couldn't. Instead of responding you just quietly shut the bathroom door behind you and went to have a quick shower to calm down a little. After just 15 minutes you come back out dressed in your pyjama and now ready for bed. Instead of going further into the bedroom you just stand there, looking at Lando sitting on the bed. It's like a reflection, he didn't even look like the Lando you once knew, happy and open, the cute lover boy with the silly laugh. All you did was to let out a sigh just to get another roll of the eyes from him, followed by an annoyed sigh of his.

"what?", You ask, genuinely wanting to know what sounded now to piss him off. again.

Instead of responding he just shook his head and that was the point you cracked, your nice demeanour falling from a mix of the exhaustion from the long flight here and just everything piling itself on top of each other in your relationship right now.

"No! you don't get to fucking ignore me again for fucks sake! Ive done NOTHING but being nice for the past week- no actually since this shitshow of a season started and I've gotten nothing from you. NOTHING!", you snap, Lando flinching back ever so slightly before just looking back down at his phone which pissed you off even more.

You walk over to the bed, grabbing his phone out of his hadn't and throwing it somewhere else on the bed. "Im not doing this anymore. I won't be the only one putting effort into this fucking relationship.", And for a moment there you could see his face changing a bit:

"What are you on about...?" He asks, voice quieter but not a single sign of reflection or whatsoever.

"You know exactly what I'm on about! Oscars beating you. Again." You say bluntly, crossing your arms defensively over your chest.

"seriously?", is all Lando says before letting out a huff and shaking his head, turning his back to you and closing his eyes.

"No. You know- No! Get up. Now. we're talking about this right now.", You snap, not getting a single reaction out of him, so you go further, stepping in front of him and starting to take off your engagement ring he proposed to you with just a few months ago.

His face immediately fell , grabbing your hand and trying to stop you from taking the ring off fully. "wha- No wait what the hell are you doing? Babe?"

You rip your hand out of his grip and tale off the ring fully, forcefully pushing it into his hand. "I don't want it anymore. I don't want this."

You never saw him getting up this quick, because within a second he's standing in front of you his hands finding your forearms as if you'd vanish if he let go. "No you don't mean that... You're tired- You're- Come on, that's silly y/n... put the ring back on...", He says calmly.

Tears build up In your eyes but you don't budge, crossing your arms and shaking your head with the thought of Lando trying again, at least once but instead he just nods and puts the ring into his pocket. The tears that have filled your eyes are quick to fall but you're even quicker to wipe them away.

Nothing else was said that night, but both went to bed in silence, so many unspoken words and feelings hanging in between the two of you that no one wants to talk out.

The next morning was even worse. He got up way before you apparently because when you got up at 9 AM he already wasn't there even tho media usually starts at 12. You sat up and checked your phone to see If he left any messages, but he didn't. There was too much anger cursing through your body to even think of Lando going out to Do something nice or apologise after what has happened last night, so instead of waiting fro him to come back, you decided to pack your stuff, book a flight back to Monaco and leave everything behind.

The flight was long and at this point you felt like you didn't get a single bit of sleep for the past week at least. Back in Lando and your shared Monaco apartment you unpacked your stuff that was originally packed for Italy before quietly wandering around the house, not even knowing what to do here all alone in this eerie silence.

What you found even more weird was Lando not having reached out to you two days after you left but even weirder that Lando canceled media AND practice day...

When F1 posted that Lando will miss qualifying day as well you knew something was definitely not right, so you immediately called him. Of course time zones were up, but you didn't care, you needed to hear something from him. 16 missed calls later you frantically started texting him all sorts of things, apologising for the suff you said and taking off just like that but he still didn't respond.

Its until several hours later, probably midnight in Miami when you suddenly get a call from him...

[intoblonde6ftwbbplayers]

Stupid Interview

no use of y/n bc im sick of it atp || obvs this isn't a real actress||

pairing; Paige Bueckers x famous actress reader

warnings; none that I can think of there might be brain rot but its used jokingly (im chronically online with the humor of a middle schooler)

summary; Josephine Carter does an interview on the tonight show where she reveals her passion for watching upon wbb and how she thinks Paige Bueckers is attractive.

||

You're currently backstage waiting to come out as Jimmy Fallon is introducing you. You've been acting since you were little, mainly smaller roles when younger but the second you graduated high school and turned 18 you went into it full time. You went to college but opted for online with your busy schedule.

It wasn't overnight but you got good role in a movie over a year ago and since then producers have been knocking down your door asking you to be in their next movie. It's honestly a dream come true being able to do what you love and have people praise you for it.

And 1 year and 3 movies later you are now pretty well known you've been told. Think like Glen Powell and how everyone knows him now but they didn't really before top gun. That's what people are saying happened with you as well. And this is the first interview you've done in months that hasn't been press for a movie and you're excited.

"The talented and beautiful actress Josephine Carter!" He says enthusiastically to the crowd who starts cheering at the sound of your name and even louder once you step out onto the stage.

You hug jimmy and sit down.

"So Josephine you've really been busy this past year and I mean really because you just wrapped filming a movie which makes that your third appearance on our screens this year which is just unbelievable" Jimmy says in awe.

"woah when you put it like that it does sound a little crazy. Im honestly so grateful that I have been able to work so much recently and each project ive done has been so amazing and I really just poured my soul into each role and am really proud of all of it"

"Yeah it's incredible what you've produced for us both on and off screen as you have been seeing giving back to the community a lot as well as getting your degree. I mean wow you're just on fire lately"

"Oh god yeah honestly I've always liked school and im graduating in May and I feel good and Im proud of everything ive achieved right now. Im just ready for what comes next"

"Speaking of what comes next what is award winning actress Josephine Carter going to do this next month? We know you start filming yet another movie in April but what about March? Any plans?"

"Not that I can- Oh! Yes! Actually big plans. Im watching march madness. Anyone who knows me knows that im invested and I have been for a while now so that's my entire month right there" you say laughing as the end

"March Madness that's a little unexpected? Mens or Women's?"

"Women's of course. And I dont know, ive been watching since Sophomore year of high school and right now this year im particularly invested" you say laughing at the way you know your friends have had to listen to you talk about Paige Bueckers and how she deserves to win countless times by now.

"what's peaked your interest this year that makes it so special?" jimmy asked genuinely curious along with the audience who is waiting for your answer.

"Well you've hears of Paige Bueckers. I mean her story and the entire uconn teams story these past 5 years have just been so heartbreaking as well as inspirational and everything they've overcome together and especially her. I just genuinely think that not only the team has the talent and commitment to win but that they all deserve this one that they truly should win and it would just be the perfect storybook ending if they do. Oh god that was such a yap attack im sorry. my friends say I can get pretty passionate when talking about this" you say blushing hard from embarrassment of rambling.

"No that was very interesting and I think we can all tell you aren't just a casual watcher which makes it all the better. Do you plan on going in person? Supporting Uconn?"

"I dont think so. I mean ill be checking tickets but I dont know it might be too late to get tickets but I will be watching every game no matter what"

the interview goes on and you and jimmy have good banter back and forth. You mention Paige a couple of times while talking about UConn of course as well as answering some questions about your upcoming movie as well as how you school life has been especially not that your done soon.

"Alright Josephine last question of the night... Who is your favorite uconn player and why?"

"Oh god" you say putting your hands on your face to cover you blush

"right ill be honest since I doubt they know who I am or that they'll see this but uh... Paige Bueckers and the why, I mean ive seen clips of her and read the articles, she seems like a good person and you can tell its genuine.. but also have you seen how attractive she is?" you say smiling and blushing HARD.

"I mean she's 6'0 with the bluest eyes and she's just so beautiful how is she not everyone favorite?" you say blushing even harder but laughing just as hard at your own bluntness.

"I cant believe I just said that. Cut that out!" you say to jimmy and turning to look at the producers.

"Well Josephine this is live sorry to say but as always it was a pleasure having you as well as learning about your little crush. Josephine Carter everybody!" jimmy says hugging you goodbye before you walk off.

You reach backstage before it hits you that you just admitted to the entire world that you think Paige Bueckers is fine. No big deal right? How much can you guys fans really overlap? Maybe this interview won't do well you think to yourself.

NEXT DAY*

The end clip of the interview of you detailing exactly just how pretty you think Paige Bueckers is has gone viral. Your entire FYP and probably everyone else's shows different clips of you smiling like an idiot while talking about her and you just want to live in the ignorance of thinking that Paige hasn't seen it even though there's no way thats possible at this point 7.5 million views later in just under 20 hours.

You might be fucked but ignorance is bliss and thats how you're choosing to handle this.

then you get an alert on instagram, Kk Arnold is going live. of course you click on it always enjoying watching them when you catch their lives.

You join and its just Kk talking to someone off camera telling them to come sit down since the live started. Paige comes to sit down and your heart drops when you look at the comments.

'PAIGE PAIGE DID YOU SEE THE INTERVIEW'

'Josephine Carter thinks you're fine!'

'PAGIE GO WATCH THE TONIGHT SHOW INTERVIEW'

'Paige you should dm josephine'

'Paige did you see what Josephine Carter said about you??'

Kk and Paige read the comments but not out loud. God could this get any more embracing?

You got a pop up on the screen telling to request to join. You always click no you've never requested before and you weren't gonna start now you thought to yourself.

But as fate would have it your dog wanted attention at the exact wrong moment and moves your hand causing you to click request to join instead of the 'x' in the corner and managed to knock your phone onto the floor making you not notice.

You reach down to grab your phone only to come back and see Paige is blushing HARD at Kk's phone and Kk has the biggest most evil smirk on her face. You wonder what possibly could have caused this but then a second later your face appears on screen next to them on the live.

oh shit.

"Are you the real Josephine Carter?" Kk speaks first

"oh um yeah I am. Sorry about the request I didn't mean to but my dog made my phone slip and stuff." you say laughing at yourself awkwardly

"Oh hey you're totally fine im glad you did actually because P Boogers over here has been going crazy that her favorite actress knows who she is"

You laugh at that "why wouldn't I? you guys are famous"

"We're famous? Girl boo I guess we kinda are but anyway we seen the interview or at least the TikTok clips of it. You into Paige or what?" she says very excitedly with the biggest smile

"Woah there Kk Im sorry about her. But I saw the interview. You really know who I am huh?" Paige says cockily

"alright alright I do but I mean everyone on this live knows who you are and agrees with me on what I said in that stupid interview. And I can sleep happily tonight know thing there's new clips for edits tomorrow" you say the last part half jokingly but you know you'll end up getting them on your fyp tomorrow.

"You're a fan of the edits? good to know" Paige says

"stop acting like I didn't tell the whole world you're fine shyt yesterday"

kk and Paige burst out laughing at this and you cant help but feel proud that you made her laugh.

"Don't worry Josephine your little rant on Paige last night could not compare to this video we all have of her talking about you." Paige at this comment tried to cover her friends mouth in attempt to get her to stop but Kk wasn't having it prying Paiges hand off her to continue.

"yeah she had us go see your new movie 3 months ago and we got back to her apartment and she would not shut up about how beautiful you are and how your acting is so good and everything about you. so trust she's just as obsessed or even more"

"No bro don't listen to her she's lying" Paige tries to defend but its no use as you know people have already clipped it and Paiges smile and bright pink cheeks have you believe Kk over her.

"Mmmm I think I believe Kk. but I am very flattered Paige it's always a pleasure to know someone likes my movies" you say trying to act nonchalant but failing

"okay so boom! like you have to come to one of the tournament games girly pop!"

"I'll look but there's probably no good tickets left. Il'l let you guys know if I decide to go though!" suddenly your dog comes and jumps onto your bed to howl in your face begging for attention.

"is that your dog?" Paige asks

"yeah she just wants some attention right now. I swear she hates it when i'm on my phone." you say laughing slightly and turning the camera to show your dog laying on her back with you scratching her belly.

"Wait you have a husky?!" Kk and Paige ask at the same time

"yeah I do! her name is nova" before they can reply nova gets up and walks to the front door begging to be let out for a walk you know you should have taken her on 20 minutes ago.

"alright guys thank you for having me but I gotta take her on a walk! It was great talking to you and I'll let you know if I go watch. bye everybody!" you say as you click off the live but before you close the app you follow both of them on instagram.

@paigebueckers started following you!

@kamoreaarnold started following you!

paigebueckers sent you a message!

your heart skips a beat. Maybe you'll try a little harder in your search for tickets.

||

thanks for reading lovelies part 2?

request are open lmk thoughts or any ideas in the comments

[kisblle]

Dark Paradise

Pairing: Low Honor Arthur Morgan x Female Reader

Part Two

Word Count: 6,218

Summary: After seemingly not wanting you for more than sex, you finally have the strength to leave the cowboy. But Arthur soon finds himself becoming jealous, possessive, and bitter as he watches you move on without him.

Tags: heavy angst, toxic relationship, pnv, smut, porn with plot, low honor, caught in the act, 18+ MDNI

Author's note: THIS is that fan fiction I wanted to read so bad I wrote it myself. I lovveee a low honor, possesive, jealous Arthur that yearns for the reader when he know's he done wrong. So that is EXACTLY what this is. This is one of the fics I've been working simultaneously on, and I think this is the one I am most excited to share. I was kicking my feet and giggling with my jaw hanging open as I wrote the smut scene. Inspired by Lane Del Rey's song, Dark Paradise, low honor Arthur is my dark paradise. Also starting to work on my masterlist since my page has started to get a little more traction.

Update: How tf do yall edit your posts so well?? Like I reread this so many times I didn’t think I’d find anymore errors and then I post it and reread it and it’s full of errors!! HELP.

A guttural moan escapes Arthur’s lips as he spills his seed onto your stomach, his body going slack as he collapses beside you on the small bed. His breath is ragged; white puffs of steam dissipating into the cold air in front of him. “Needed that,” he mutters tiredly. And with a practiced motion, he tucks himself back into his black work pants, the moment already slipping from his mind.

You sit up, reaching for a worn bandana from his wardrobe to clean yourself before pulling your bloomers back into place, letting your skirt fall back down. Exhaling, you slide back onto the mattress, pressing yourself into his side.

Colter had been relentless.

Since the gang arrived nearly a week ago, everyone had been on edge, the weight of Blackwater still pressing heavy on their hearts. But with John Marston’s return, thanks to Arthur and Javier, the burden had felt just a little lighter.

Arthur shifts beside you, his brow furrowing beneath the thick fur of his winter shotgun coat. “What’re you doin’?” he asks, his voice gruff and annoyed.

“Just wanted to lay here with you for a while, that’s all,” you admit, curling yourself closer, draping your leg over his and clinging to him as if he might disappear.

But Arthur exhales sharply and pushes himself upright, dislodging you from his body. You stumble before catching yourself on your elbows. “Best you be goin’ before Dutch and Hosea show back up,” he grumbles.

Your lip quivers with indignation.

You’d be lying if you said Arthur Morgan wasn’t an asshole. For months, you had laid yourself bare for him. Half the time, he couldn't keep his rough, calloused hands off you. The other half? He acted like you didn’t exist.

With a clenched jaw, you swing your legs over the bed and yank on your boots, rolling your eyes as you tighten the laces. You had needed this - needed him - but getting a moment alone had been damn near impossible with Dutch and Hosea constantly occupying every second of your cowboy’s time.

And now that you finally had him? After a quick, meaningless fuck -Arthur didn’t even want you to stay.

“You’re an asshole,” you snap, tying the last knot with a vicious tug.

Arthur doesn’t flinch. He simply lets out a small, amused snort, like this was all some sort of joke to him.

And that pushes you straight over the edge.

“I’m done,” you seethe, standing abruptly. “You want your dick played with? Go find someone else to do it."

Arthur doesn’t look at you as he lays back down, his gaze focusing on the cracks between the wood beams over head. “Shore” he murmurs, voice indifferent. Because he knows that with a single word, he could have you right back in his bed, tangled up in him like a moth drawn to a flame.

But this time, you swear it’ll be different.

You scrunch your nose in disgust, marching toward the exit, fury burning in your chest. You slam the already broken door shut, doing your best to control your budding emotions - you wouldn't let yourself shed anymore tears for him.

...

It takes a day and a half before the familiar heat in Arthur’s loins stir strong enough to send him searching for you. With the way he’d been pulling you into his bed nearly every other day, it almost felt like he was going through a second puberty and he didn’t mind it one bit.

Adjusting his hardened length, he steps out of his makeshift room, offering a brief nod of acknowledgment to his two fathers seated by the fire. Bringing you in here wasn’t an option of course - but the stables might offer enough privacy. You had never been too proud to let him bend you over somewhere less refined anyway.

With a firm kick, he forces open the lodged door, squinting as the sunlight glints off the white casted ground. Though winter still held its grip, the clear skies and shining sun were a welcome change from the relentless storms that had plagued Colter for the last several days.

It doesn’t take him too long to spot you. Like most of the others, you’re outside, soaking in the afternoon rays. But instead of lingering with the other women, you’re standing beside a certain Mexican Guard.

Arthur watches as you playfully swat Javier’s shoulder, a guttural laugh spilling from your lips. In response, Javier leans down, eyes locked on you as he tosses a handful of powdered snow your way. Arthur would be lying if he said the sight didn’t twist something in his gut, but deep down, he was certain you knew exactly who you belonged to.

The cowboy moves through the snow with slow, deliberate strides, the powder slipping off his boots like white sand on a beach . He makes his presence known as he hooks his fingers in the loops of his gun belt, his sharp gaze resting on you.

Javier greets him with an easy, "Oh hey, Arthur."

The outlaw barely acknowledges him, his eyes flicking straight to you. Your easy smile fades to thin lines. He hadn’t forgotten your last conversation. He just figured you’d be over it by now.

"Uh… was wondering if you could help me in the stables with something," he says, making up the excuse on the spot, not even bothering to sound convincing. "Need someone with small hands."

Your response is smooth, flat, and unimpressed as your cross your arms, your voice laced with an undertone of venom. "I'm busy here with Javier."

Javier hesitates for only a moment before shaking his head with a small chuckle. "No, it's okay, amiga," he says warmly. "I have a few guns to clean anyway. Go help him."

Arthur’s smirk is slow, his gaze never leaving yours as he watches your jaw tighten. You both know damn well there’s nothing in the stables that needs your help - at least, nothing Arthur couldn't handle himself. However, you knew the only assistance he was looking for was one that involved a quick release before throwing you out like trash right after.

If the last time Arthur hadn’t gotten the message, you were more than ready to lay your tongue on him the second you knew no one was paying attention. So, without a shred of defiance left, you allow him to drag you through the snow, past the schoolhouse, and toward the stables.

Once the door creaks shut behind you, and Arthur's sure the place is free of wandering eyes, he lifts you up against the wood wall in one swift motion, shoving his tongue down your throat before you can even process what’s happening.

“Get off of me,” you seethe, pounding your fists into his chest, the anger rising as you demand space. With a slight grunt, he lets you drop to the ground, taking a few steps back as if you had slapped him.

Arthur huffs, utterly bewildered. “What?”

You glare up at him, hands on your hips, straightening out the skirt he’s already wrinkled. “I told you I was done with all this.”

Arthur laughs, rolling his eyes as if you’re just having a moment of stubbornness. He steps toward you, all confidence in that cocky smile of his. “You don’t mean that.”

You take a sharp step back, eyes narrowing as you stand firm. “I told you, Arthur. If you want your dick played with, find. Someone. Else. I’m done.”

Arthur’s expression shifts, his charming smile still plastered on his face, but now there’s something more predatory in his gaze. He shakes his head slowly, his blue eyes twinkling with disbelief and amusement. “You don’t want that? Me?....with someone else?”

The tone in his voice, that half challenge, half laugh, is enough to make your stomach churn. But this time, you’re not backing down.

"I told you I was done, Arthur," you spit, your voice growing more venomous with every icy word. "I'm done bein' hid away like you're embarassed of me, done bein' treated like I’m your two penny whore."

Arthur’s cocky smile vanishes, his jaw tightening as anger sparks in his eyes. His brow furrowing, his body stiffening at the accusation. "I don’t treat you like that." He barks, his voice sharp and clear like a shard of broken glass.

You let out a bitter laugh, rolling your eyes. "Oh, sorry - my mistake. Only difference is they get paid, and I get treated like shit for free."

That sends Arthur over the edge. His nostrils flare at the accusation, his hand diving into his satchel as fury overtakes him. "You want money?" he seethes, his voice low and dangerous. "That what this is about?" Without another thought, he yanks out a handful of bills and throws them at you, the crisp paper fluttering to the ground at your feet. "Here."

Your mouth falls open in shock, completely floored by his sheer audacity. Your eyes flick to the ground, where at least fifteen dollars lie in the muddy snow. The anger fades, replaced by something heavier - something sad. Your lip quivers as you lift your gaze to meet his. "You think that's what I want from you... money?" A sob escaping you, a single tear slipping down your left cheek. "Is that what you really think of me?"

Arthur’s anger cools in an instant, the weight of his actions sinking in. Throwing the bills at you was too much. It was cruel. And for a fleeting second, he lets his walls crack. But just as quickly, he slams them back up, his fiery tongue flicking out like a whip.

"Then what do you want from me?"

By now, the floodgates have opened, tears streaming freely down your face. But even through the heartbreak, your voice is sharp. "Once upon a time, I just wanted you and your attention - your love. To be shown off like you were proud to have me." You let out a cracked sob, failing to harden your expression. "Now, I just want you to leave me alone."

Arthur struggles to open his mouth, your words hitting him like a brick. He wants to say something, anything, but he finds himself for once in his life, utterly speachless.

And then you turn. Catching him off guard as you walk away without giving him the chance to respond, knowing that everything might be better that way.

Arthur just stands there, fists clenched, jaw tight, eyes trailing after you.

Stupid. He was so goddamn stupid.

He wants to blame you - hell, it’d be easier that way. But as much as he wants to be angry, as much as he wants to tell himself you’re just some stupid girl he uses for fun, he can’t. Because deep down, beneath all that stubborn pride and whatnot, he knows that he's wrong.

And that pisses him off even more.

...

Two days pass as another wild Ambarino storm brews over the cursed outlaw camp. Arthur’s young mare shifts uneasily beneath him as he returns from a scouting trip, her ears flicking at the howling wind. Before he can steady her, she startles, sending him sprawling onto the icy path.

Call it unlucky or call it karma - either way, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he deserved it. Groaning, he pushes himself to his feet, running a hand over his aching jaw before soothing the mare.

"It's okay, girl," he mutters, the familiar tang of iron flooding his mouth.

Damn.

He’d busted his lip.

As snow began to flurry once more, he took the mare by the reins, leading her into the barn. He worked quickly, untacking her before trudging toward the steps of the old schoolhouse. If he was lucky, all he’d need was a quick cleanup from Grimshaw. But as the warmth of blood pooled in his mouth, he had a sinking feeling he might need stitches.

The old schoolhouse, where the women and children slept, was only slightly warmer than the bitter cold outside. For a brief moment, Arthur wondered why he, Dutch, and Hosea got the good cabin while the women were left to suffer - but he had never been the one to question the gang leader.

The first thing he noticed was Karen, bundled under a blanket, Mary-Beth resting her head on Karen's shoulder, her pale face expressionless. Then Abigail - curled up not with John, but with Jack, holding the boy close in her arms near the fireplace. Ms. Grimshaw, in a rare moment of exhaustion, sits hunched over at the table, elbows resting on the worn wood, looking utterly drained from the day’s struggles.

And then there was you.

Tucked against the far wall, John Marston’s head in your lap as you dipped a cloth into a pail of water, carefully tending to his wounds. Sure, John was incapacitated - possibly from the pain, maybe from Reverend Swanson’s morphine, and Abigail didn't seem to have a care in the world - but that didn’t make it any easier for Arthur to watch. The way you held him close, the way your touch was so damn gentle…

It should be him that you -

“Arthur Morgan!”

That familiar, no nonsense voice yanks him from his thoughts.

Ms. Grimshaw was already on her feet, her scowl sharp enough to cut through stone. She grabs at his chin without warning, tilting his head back and forth as she inspects him with narrow eyes.

"What did you do to your face?"

Even with the tang of iron still coating his tongue, what he’d just seen - you and John - bothered him more than the pain. So when Grimshaw grabbed his face, Arthur only muttered, “It’s nothin’,” before attempting a quick escape.

He should’ve known better.

Before he could take another step, Grimshaw yanks him down onto a spare chair, her grip firm.

"You men… all idiots," she mutters, voice sharp as a knife. Then, without missing a beat, she shoots a glare toward the rest of the room. "And all you women… lazy!"

Arthur barely has time to roll his eyes before she was at work. Taking a small mug, she pours steaming water from the pot over the fire, then reaches for him again.

"Hold still," she snaps, gripping his chin as she dips cloth into the hot water. Without warning, she presses it to his busted lip, scrubbing away the blood like she was scraping grime off a skillet.

Arthur winces - Grimshaw completely lacking the gentleness you had with John. The woman had no mercy.

"Now what you do? Get in a fight with Bill? Lose a game of cards?-"

"Got knocked off that damn mare," Arthur replies, swatting away the woman in dismay.

"Told Dutch not to be sending you out scoutin' in this weather, nothin' ever good comes out of it," she says, letting Arthur stand up.

His eyes quickly flash to you, unmoved. Still letting John sleep in your lap, still dabbing at his scars. Not even a flicker of acknowledgement in his direction. Sure his lip was popped open, actively bleeding out - but atleast the pain was temporary. Seeing you with John Marston of all people - that hurt much worse.

…

Arthur had downed nearly half a bottle of Tennesse Whiskey as he sits slumped over outside the cabin, his eyes fixed on the schoolhouse. The snow and wind had barely bothered him, numbed by the liquor coursing through his veins. But the only thing that truly bit at him was the same damn thought he hadn’t been able to shake since last night.

You and John fucking Marston.

The way you cradled him so gently, your fingers tracing over his scars. The way you acted like Arthur Morgan didn’t exist. Like John Marston - of all people - mattered more than him. It burned in his bones, tortured his thoughts, bruised his ego more than you with any other damn man could.

It had to be you taking care of John. Touching him like that, head in your lap like his should be. It sickened him.

His fingers clench around the bottle, dusting the glass over his split lip, and just as his vision starts to blur, he sees you step out of the schoolhouse, bundled in layers against the cold, completely oblivious to his drunken watch.

Before he could think better, he was on his feet, trailing after you toward the clearing behind the old chapel. His steps were slow and unsteady, but determined.

You were kneeling, scooping handfuls of snow into a metal bucket for melting.

"Enjoy yourself last night?" His voice was thick with bitterness as you startle, lifting your head to the cowboy standing over you. On your knees in front of him for the millionth time - just not in the way you had been so used to.

You exhale sharply, brushing snow from your skirt as you make your way to your feet, the sharp scent of whiskey wofting into the air infront of you.

"You're drunk," you mutter, shaking your head before bending back down, continuing to gather snow. Trying to argue with an intoxicated Arthur was never a good idea.

The gunslinger tilted his head, a slow, cruel smirk pulling at his lips as he lets out a snort of frustration. "Bet Marston's real grateful for all that attention you're givin’ him." His voice dipped in bitterness, anger, and jealousy. "Or do you just got a thing for broken men?"

Your hands still, the snow dripping through your fingers as your jaw tightens. Arguing with him now would be as useless as trying to stop the wind, but damn if his words didn’t sting.

"You're pathetic," you said flatly, refusing to meet his gaze, dumping the last handful of clean snow into the bucket.

Arthur huffs out a bitter laugh. "Least I ain't playin’ nursemaid to some bastard who can't keep himself outta trouble," he shoots back.

You straighten, gripping the bucket tight, your nails digging into the metal. But instead of lashing out, you just shake your head, looking him up and down with something close to pity.

"Go to bed, Arthur."

And with that, you turn and walk away, leaving him standing in the snow. Small flakes attaching themselves to his beard.

He holds his breath, eyes burning a hole into your back as he watches you disappear into the schoolhouse. He only exhales once you're out of sight. His head pounding. Maybe you were right - he should just go to bed.

Silently, he stumbles through the abandoned town, kicking open that damn lodged door to the cabin he shares with his patriarchs. The fire crackles, casting shadows as he steps inside. The other two men are already asleep in their worn beds. His gaze drifting to Dutch’s room, where the leader sleeps soundly on his back, Molly gently tucked into his side.

Arthur exhales sharply, a bitter weight settling in his chest. Maybe he’d feel better if he had you curled up at his side like that. And he swears at himself for even thinking it - because all those days ago, when that’s all you wanted, he was the one who pushed you away.

...

Days passed, weeks bled together, and before Arthur knew it, a month and a half had gone by.

The weather had warmed with the spring melt, and after a successful train robbery, Dutch was finally ready to lead the gang off the mountain. Taking Hosea by his side, he ventures down for a few hours, ensuring that the pass would be safe enough for the caravan.

In the meantime, Arthur grabs a bowl of venison stew from Pearson’s makeshift kitchen, half listening to Uncle joke about bloomers. The stew was nothing special, just venison, but it was a step up from the rabbit broth and salted offal they'd lived on in the early days of Colter. Still, Arthur pays no mind to its bland taste or the two old men chuckling at each other. His focus was elsewhere - on you.

His eyes trail after you as you move to the back of the caravan, hopping in and out of the last wagon, already loading supplies. He watches as you lift heavy boxes and bundled blankets in and out of the wagon bed, his gaze never leaving you.

He hadn’t spoken to you since that night behind the chapel, but the conversation still ran fresh through his mind. Guilt wasn’t something Arthur was accustomed to, yet the feeling had gnawed at him.

He hated to admit it, but something wasn’t right without you. He was never a tame man, but without you, he’d turned feral. And he’d be lying if he said his right hand had done a damn thing to replace you in his bed.

With one final bite, he tosses his half ate stew on the ground, ignoring Pearson swearing at him for wasting a bowl. He didn’t care. His only thought was getting you alone, making things right.

Jaw tight, brows drawn, scowl etched onto his weathered face, he moves toward the wagon silently. You were humming softly, lost in your own world beneath the shaded canopy, unaware of him until you turn around.

“Goddamn it, Arthur, you scared me,” you hiss, clutching your chest, face pale as a ghost.

He didn’t say a word. Instead, he extends his gloved hand, offering to help you down from the rather large jump.

For a split second, you stare at his hand before rolling your eyes, gathering your skirt in your fists, and preparing to jump down on your own.

But the gunslingers patience snaps. With a low grunt, he grips your hips, lifting you off the wagon bed without asking. “You done yet?” he mutters coldly.

Your feet hit the ground, and you quickly straighten your skirt, glaring up at him. “You already know how I feel,” you snap, turning to leave.

But Arthur wasn’t letting go. He catches your wrist, pulling you back with ease. “You want me to say I’m sorry, is that it?” he growls, scowl deepening.

Your lips purse, a crease forming between your brows as you study his face. Arthur Morgan doesn't apologize. Not sincerely anyway. And you knew him well enough to understand that words meant nothing without proof. So you stayed silent.

With a sharp sigh, he runs a hand through his hair, his scowl softening. “I jus'... I don know how to tell you I care for you more than I’d like to admit.”

You roll your eyes. “That doesn’t make up for the way you treat me, Arthur.”

“Goddammit woman, I know,” he shoots back, louder than what he'd like to. Frustration lacing his voice. Mentally berating himself for yelling at the one person that could fix everything. “I ain’t the type to beg-”

“Then don’t.” You snap.

But then something flickers in his eyes - for no more than a second. Something sad. And for a brief moment, guilt pricked at you.

Had you been too hard on him? Maybe not, but you couldn’t ignore that invisible thread tying you to him. Frayed and worn in many places - but still holding on tight.

And Arthur felt it too. You knew he did.

Neither of you would admit it, and hell would freeze over before he ever said those three words to a woman ever again. But deep down, in that cold, stubborn heart of his, he knew how he felt about you.

And that’s why, not ten seconds after you finished telling him off, he pulls you in and kisses you.

It wasn’t soft or gentle.

But either was Arthur Morgan.

Neither were you.

You met his kiss with fire, letting him think he was in control until you bite down on his bottom lip, hard enough to sting, hard enough to draw blood

Arthur jerks back, his calloused fingers swiping over his lip. Gaze dropping to the smear of red on his fingertips before snapping back to you, something wild flashing behind those eyes of yours.

Your tongue flicks out, tasting the faintest trace of him still on your lips. You don't apologize. You don’t waver. You just stare up at him, letting your pout linger, letting your lashes lower just enough to be dangerous.

And God, it drives him insane.

A muscle in his jaw ticks, his breathing uneven, his body drawn to you like a predator to prey. But you weren’t running.

This time, when he grabs you, it was rough, near punishing. He yanks you against him, his grip firm, and possessive. His mouth back on yours, nothing but tongue and teeth.

It was violent and needy. But you couldn't help but to melt into him, knees weakening as his hands find your hips.

Arthur Morgan was an asshole.

But maybe that’s why you liked him.

Sure, part of you would always ache from the way he treated you, the way he pushes and pulls like he couldn’t decide whether to claim you or drive you away. But deep down, beneath all those heavy walls you’d built, you loved watching him unravel. Watching his jealousy twist into something dark and possessive. Watching him squirm when he couldn’t have what he wanted - when he couldn’t have you.

You'd never admit it, but you'd enjoyed torturing him.

Enjoyed the chase.

And for hell’s sake, he deserved every second of it.

No words were spoken as he drags you to his empty cabin. No grand admission of love, no declerations- it didn’t need to be.

As soon as he got you behind those walls, he kicks off his boots, leaving his coat on as he nearly throws you onto his bed. His hands making quick work of your shoes, tossing them into the corner before his lips crash into yours again.

It was desperate and needy, more wrong than right.

Swiftly he yanks your bloomers down one leg, dragging his rough hands up your skirt, flinging the cloth over your hips in a sudden motion. And in a moments time he settles himself between your legs, pulling his already hardened member out from beneath the buttons of his work jeans.

But you wouldn't let him have you like that.

Not this time.

With a sharp inhale, Arthur barely has time to react before you hook your leg over his back, twisting with just enough force to flip him beneath you. In seconds, you have him on his back, your legs straddling his hips.

He looks up at you, momentarily stunned.

Arthur Morgan had always been the one in control - the one on top. But now? Now that he was beneath you? His breath trembles, muscles tensing beneath your hips.

And you could see the exact moment that confusion slips away and turns into something pleasurable for him. And strangely enough, for once in your life; you felt like his equal.

The second your fingers wrap around his cock, Arthur goes slack. His brows smoothing, jaw falling open, breath hitching in his throat. His hands twitch at his sides the second you sink down onto him - slow, deliberate, making him feel every inch of your swollen core. Teasing him until he's sheathed fully inside you.

His head falls back against the filthy mattress, a muscle in his jaw flexing, his chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His gambler’s hat tilted low, the shadow of it casting over his eyes, but you can still see the way he’s looking at you.

Like he’s starving.

Like he’s waited too long for this.

And God, he had been needy.

You could see it in the way his lip quivers, in the way his fingers flex like they were itching to grab you, hold you down, rut up into you hard and fast. You could feel it in the way his cock throbbed inside you, thick and pulsing, stretching you to the point of pain.

His hands finally find your hips, rough and possessive, but before he can take control, you catch his wrists and shove them to the bed beneath your weight.

His eyes flash. For a moment, you see the fight in them. Arthur Morgan was bigger. Stronger. If he wanted, he could flip you over, and take you the way he liked. But the second you roll your hips, dragging his cock deeper, working him slowly and teasing him.

He gives in.

Lets you keep him there, pinned down underneath you.

And from the way his body trembles beneath yours, from the thick, shuddering swallow that bobs in his throat, from the muscle in his jaw that flexes tight, you know he likes it.

The slow, teasing grind isn’t enough. You need him deeper. You need him now.

Your hold on his wrists weaken, hands finding their way gently to his neck instead. Nothing too harsh, just enough for you to let him know who's in charge, your nails slightly digging into his nape. Starting to bounce up and down on him rather than grind.

This surprises him as his jaw goes slack, a devilish smile plastered on his face as a line forms between his brows.

And then -

Still smirking, he reaches up, plucks his hat off his head, and sets it atop yours, watching you ride him like a cowboy. His neck as your reigns.

Something about it makes you burn. Makes you ride him harder, makes you bounce your hips like you’re desperate, running after the high that the slight ache of your core gives you as he stretches deeper into your heat, reveling in the pain that comes with each roll of your hips.

Arthur groans beneath you, deep and wrecked, his fingers twitching at the cotton of your skirts, the veins in his arms flexing as he fights the need to grab you, to fuck up into you with the brutal force he’s so used to.

It doesn’t take long before his restraint snaps.

His breath stutters, his brows furrow, his nose flares - his whole body tensing beneath you.

A sharp inhale. A muffled groan through gritted teeth.

His hands snap up to your waist, shoving you up off of him, just in time for his spend to spill across his stomach, hot and thick - more than his right hand had been able to conjure in the past several weeks. In ecstasy, his head presses back, chest heaving, mouth falling open as the last of it pulses out of him.

From above him, you just watch. Watch the way the veins in his neck seem to pop, the way that his breath steadies as he comes down from his high. Pretty as a picture.

And then, before you can even think about curling against him, feeling the heat of his body rap around you in nothing but innocent affection, Arthur pushes you off of his hips. Rolling to his side like he needs a few moments to recover.

You push yourself to his back, grabbing ahold of his frame just to cuddle with him for a few delicate moments. Half expecting him to send you away like he'd always done.

But before you can get comfortable, he pushes you off of him. Dislodging your from his back.

He hadn't changed.

But then something surprising happens, instead of him getting up to rudely send you away. He shuffles halfway down the bed, turning himself onto his stomach. Settling his head between your bare thighs.

“What are-”

You stutter as he licks up your seam.

Your body jerks upwards in surprise.

His hands snap up, one pressing against your stomach, holding you down. His other hand gripping your thigh, fingers digging in as he pulls your legs farther apart for him to feast on. His lips finding that bundle of nerves you enjoy so much and sucking vigorously.

Fuck.

He’s never done this before. Never cared to.

And yet, he’s fucking good at it. Too good. The thought flickers, - who the hell taught him this?

But the idea of him like this with anyone other woman makes your stomach turn. Makes something ugly and possessive coil tight inside you.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe you were just as bad as him.

Because the second that jealousy burns through you, the second that thought even crosses your mind -

Your fingers tangle in his hair, and you shove his face deeper between your thighs.

His mouth works you like he’s desperate, like he needs this, like he’s making up for every single time he left you aching and unsatisfied. His beard scraping over your inner thighs, his tongue flicking over your clit with a steady motion. His mouth sealing around your cunt, sucking just enough to make your breath catch, to make your hips jolt against his face -

But his left hand presses firmer against your gut, pinning you down.

And then, his right hand moves.

And without hesitation, without a single fucking care, he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

The stretch, the pressure, with the roughness of it all.

Your spine arches.

Your breath shatters.

Arthur doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. Just keeps fucking you open with his fingers, his tongue relentless, his blue eyes locked onto yours like he’s daring you to finish in his mouth.

Your body shakes. Your orgasm building fast, burning through you, twisting tight in your core.

“Close,” you pant, barely able to get the word out as Arthur refuses to faulter.

Just keeping the same damn pace.

And then, between the sluices of his fingers inside your core.

The goddamn door busts open.

“Arthur, we need you.” Dutch yells, his heavy footsteps entering the cabin slowly.

But Arthur doesn’t stop.

Your body goes rigid as you whisper, “Arthur?”

But Arthur just growls against you, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, not changing pace.

For no more than second does Arthur lift his mouth from your heat, quickly yelling a tense but commanding, “Get out, Dutch."

But the footsteps don’t stop.

“Oh, come on, Arthur, what’re ya doin’?” Dutch’s voice gets closer, moving through the main room, to Arthur's doorless excuse of a bedroom.

But you’re right there.

The pleasure is unbearable, your body trembling, your fingers clutching at Arthur’s hair, holding on for dear life.

And at the same time, Arthur growls, “Dutch, no,” before sucking your clit back into his mouth, dragging you over the edge.

But it's too late, the gang leader stands in Arthur's doorway.

Your orgasm crashing through you at the exact moment, stealing your breath, leaving you writhing beneath Arthur’s mouth as his tongue continously flicks back and fourth.

And Dutch?

He sees.

For no more than a second, he stares.

Wide eyed, the gang leader watches your hips tremble underneath the mouth of his enforcer. Your jaw slacking open as waves of euphoria hit you at the worst possible time.

And then.

Dutch smirks, shaking his head back and forth and walks out without another word.

Once it's obvouis you've been worked through, Arthur pulls back, his beard coated with your sweet juices. Your hand flying to your mouth, your chest heaving.

“Why didn’t you stop?” You slap at his shoulder, scrambling off the bed, shoving your boots back on as your face burns in embarassement.

Arthur shrugs without a care. As if Dutch fucking Van Der Linde hadn’t just watched him devour you.

You face burns red as you storm off, leaving him on the bed. Your ears ringing in embarrassment as you kick at that damn broken door to leave.

Only to run straight into Dutch. Freezing in surprise.

He leans against the cabin, smoking a cigar as he smirks knowingly at you. He doesn’t say a word. Just looks at you as if he's holding something in.

And then, the second you turn around to scuffle off.

A steady hand catches your wrist.

It’s Arthur.

And in front of every watching eye, with your taste still fresh on his lips, he pulls you in.

And kisses you.

Slow and deep.

Like he’s finally claiming you infront of everyone.

And when he finally pulls away, your cheeks burn, the weight of every watching eye settling heavy on your skin.

Your heart pounds.

Without a word, you turn on your heel, walking away as fast as your legs will carry you - more embarrassed than anything. Turning around once more to lock eyes as you attempt to fix your sex ruined hair.

Several yards away now, you turn around. But he doesn’t stop watching. He just leans against the cabin beside Dutch, arms crossed with a slight smile grasping at his lips.

Dutch breaks the silence by chuckling, pulling a cigar from his satchel, offering it over with a knowing smirk. “You know I can’t blame you.”

The cowboy just roughly exhales in response, taking the cigar from Dutch's hands. Lighting it with a match he lit from the bottom of his boot and exhales slowly. His smirk lingering, eyes never leaving you as you disappear into camp.

Away from him.

[seyvia]

✦•···• 𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐦𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐩 •···•✦

I admit, I was a little intimidated about tackling this project, but once I got to know their characters better, I felt more confident that I could make an adequate maxis match version. And honestly, I totally get it now! I want to marry them too!♡ Thank you for all the requests, and I hope yuh enjoy em!

✦•···• 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞 •···•✦

Please do!

Credit me. I worked hard on these sims. ( •̯́ ₃ •̯̀) Tag me if you use them for something! Change them into your sim style! / give them makeovers!

Please do not!

Please don't claim as your own creations. Don't reupload them somewhere else. Especially dangerous sites where you make money off of my free downloads.

NOTES

Playtested March 2025!

Not all packs are required for downloading! Simply substitute any missing components on the sim.

All cc included! Even my defaults. If you happen to have any conflicting defaults that you prefer, simply locate the defaults file and delete them.

on the gallery too, but that doesn't include cc, so they will look different if you don't have their cc in your mods folder.

This is not 100% my usual sim style, mine is a bit more cartoony. I made Xavier first for a singular sim req and they asked for him to have a more "realistic" style, so I just continued that for the rest of them.

lots of credit to all the amazing cc creators!💖

✦•·························• ♥ •························•✦

𝙼𝙲: a base sim for you to edit however you please. She only has one outfit, the rest are blank.

"I don't remember you."

You are the subject of all their desires, but stronger then you appear. Can you trust the ones around you? ...What if you don't want to be the princess of this fairy tale?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

»»--------- ♥----------►

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛: a tiny refresh from my previous download of him.

"My light only shines over you."

An elite hunter who disappears into thin air. Who is he...?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

✦•··········✦•⋆༺𓆩⸸𓆪༻⋆•✦·········•✦

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎: I made him the only spellcaster even though they all use a type of "magic", his position with his evol "magic" stood out more in his story from what I noticed. You can change this to your liking of course. I had to retake his photos because I found better scars when I was almost done. And if your wondering about those, they were caused by his powers... they hurt him.

"I've lived in a never ending winter long enough. If you come closer, then..."

The quiet boy from my childhood became my primary care physician more than a decade later.

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

⋆꙳❅°⋆❆･*❆ ₊⋆❆˚｡₊⊹❅⋆

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕: If you hadn't noticed I opted for dressing them in more casual outfits. Since maxis match cc for men is still lack luster when it comes to clothing. I really wish there were corset trousers like Raf's! :( BTW! Don't cha think his tail is spot on?!

"Life is precious, you know. Paint your story with your own colors."

A famous and aloof artist. He invited me to be his bodyguard. It's a good opportunity to investigate what he actually intends to do!

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜: ......( ,,⩌'︿'⩌,,).... I've been sitting here for 10 minuets now trying to remember what I originally was gonna say, but my head went blank... I blame him.

"Don't you see? this is what your heart truly desires."

The leader of Onychinus. He's the most influential, dominant figure in the N109 Zone. He said we were the "same" and knows me... What's going on here?

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.♫⋆｡♪♫⋆｡♪ ₊˚♬ﾟ.♫

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋: ... I think I need to continue to study him at a safe distance for now.

 “I promise you’ll see me everyday when you wake up. ”

My childhood friend. Grandma took us in when we were young. Now he works as a fighter pilot for the Deepspace Aviation Administration.

[𝙳𝚘𝚠𝚗𝚕𝚘𝚊𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎] mediafire

✦•·························• ♥ •························•✦

I'm so Tsundere! you have no idea what this has put me though!

Live footage of me at the beginning of this⬇️😭

... How it's going⬇️🤣

[geeeemmmmmmm]

"All I want is you" part 2

"All I want is you" - part one for those interested:)

A/N:Thank you for the love on part 1, decided to write a part 2 as I'm bored and some people requested one so a big thanks to them! As always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!

Summary:You awoke with one of the worst hangovers you think you've had after last nights events and remember what happened and that Bucky is meant to come over

Warnings:Mentions of vomiting, mentions of drinking and fluff

WC:1k

You awoke with a groan as your body decided to torture you with a hangover that felt like death is at your door. You massage your temple as you try to piece together last night and remember how you ended up home but you only remember falling asleep in Bucky's arms as he took you into your apartment, you figure Bucky being the person he is managed to tuck you in. You sit on the edge of your bed still massaging your temples as the sunbeams flow into your room with the light basically punching your head. A rush of spit floods your mouth as the urge to vomit pushes you to practically sprint into your bathroom and make you debate on staying sober forever. After what feels like forever you crawl out of your bathroom and look at the time 8:45AM "christ" you mutter as you hear a knock on the door.

Bucky. The memory floods back on what happened last night with you almost begging him to stay or come back tomorrow. With him having the combo of both being over protective and an early riser of course he'd come see you. In that moment you again swear that you are never setting foot into a bar again. You hurriedly try to smooth your hair with your hands and curse yourself even more for still being in last night's clothes but you decide to bite the bullet. You sleepily pad over as Bucky's knock grow more persistent "Y/N are you ok? I told you I'd come back" he said hurriedly with panic in his voice worrying if something happened to you and why you haven't opened the door yet. "Buck I'm alright" you grumble as you open the door wincing at the light that seems to be way brighter than normal. "See I told ya I'd be back, are you alright do you need me to do anything?" One thing about Bucky is that he will be so over protective with those he loves he will go to no ends to keep them safe even if its from a deserved hangover. "Yea I'm ok just got a killer hangover" you try to talk at a normal volume now to try gain some dignity back as you let him in fully. 

Bucky immediately puts his hands on your shoulders and marches you onto your couch "stay here let me get something to help" he says looking oh so gently at you while it takes everything in him not to just press a gentle kiss to your head but alas he finds his way into your kitchen and first of all finds some Panadol and starts preparing one of your nice herbal teas you showed him a while ago and since then he's been hooked on it. "I'm ok you don't have to do all this" you say calmly as you start getting up from the couch but Bucky rushes over "I'm almost done over there it's fine" he smiles as he gestures for you to sit back down he then promptly brings your nice hot tea and 2 Panadol "enjoy" he says with a cheesy smile and you just grin back and chomp it down hoping for it to ease your headache away.

"Ugh last night is such a blur to me now" you say as your cuddled up on the couch cupping the warm tea in your hands "Thank you for looking after me though, don't know where I'd be without you Barnes" you say warmly watching Bucky try hide a smile from your kind words "Of course Doll anything for you" he says with a calm expression plastered on his face. "Come here I'm cold" You blurt out thinking clearly a shot or two is still left in you while you didn't hate what you said, it's just out of character for you to be so bold but Bucky didn't care he just got up and sat beside you putting his flesh arm on your far shoulder and pulled you in. "Don't know what I've done to deserve such a beautiful girl in my life" he says quietly while resting his head on yours as you just settle in his side, contently sipping your tea. "Bucky, you're such a kind and caring person, I mean look, you always take care of me and the other avengers. The winter soldier was one part of you but there are so many other beautiful parts to you" you say without a moment of hesitation because you know how much Bucky struggles with the thought of how much destruction he caused as the winter soldier but you've never cared you know that was a different part of him and with that fact it just makes Bucky love and appreciate you more. Only you and Steve know the enormous amount of trauma he carries and how much trust he needs to have with someone to just talk about it.

He mumbles something incoherent in reply and finally gives himself into his love for you and presses multiple soft kisses from your hairline down to your lips, he didn't care anymore he needed to truely show his love for you and something in his mind clicked that made him give in to you. Luckily for him you match his energy and press a kiss back onto him and rest your forehead against yours "I meant what I said last night, all I want is you" you whisper and grin ear to ear after seeing him blush and smile so wide you weren't even sure if this was Bucky anymore. " I love you more than you could ever know Y/N" he says while gazing into your eyes and pulling you down with him as he lays on his back as you're nuzzled into his side, head resting under his chin. "I love you more Barnes" you laugh and kiss him again then rest your head down just as your headache makes itself known again. You fall asleep within seconds of resting your head back down while Bucky strokes your hair in awe that you trust him to even just fall asleep on him while the biggest smile he's ever had sits on his face and for once he's glad its there.

A/N:I need him biblically oh my god, I hope you all enjoyed because I loved writing this! My writing will hopefully improve guys like I've said writing fanfic is a style of writing that I've never done so please bare with me!

[danikamariewrites]

hiiii if you’re currently taking requests, i was wondering if you could do either feysand x reader or bat boys x reader on how they’d react to reader having a nightmare? or if you have anything you’ve already written for that and wanna drop the link, i’d love that too!!! thanks :))

Nightmare Comfort

Feysand x reader

Notes: I think I've done one for Az and Rhys before but I love a good comfort fic so I thought I'd make this part of the House Wife Feysand mini series since I miss them.

I have reader going thru it like Bella in New Moon so sorry in advance

Warnings: angst, comfort, mentions of kidnapping

Every night the dreams get more and more vivid. It feels like you’re back in that freezing, abandoned cabin. When you can finally pull yourself from the illusion you wake up screaming. Your fists clenched like they were around the ropes to keep your skin from pinching.

Tonight was no different. The same nightmare. The same chill makes your body tremble.

You’ve opted to sleep on the side of the bed instead of the middle. The fist clenching progressed to thrashing a few nights ago, Rhys had to hold you until they broke you from the dream.

You jolted awake with a scream on your lips. It didn’t make it, your throat too dry from every other night. You choked, coughing and gasping for air.

Looking over at your mates you find them fast asleep. The bags under their eyes make your heart clench, guilt knotting in your stomach.

Slipping from bed you pad downstairs. This way you won’t wake them or hurt them.

Curling up in one of the wing armchairs you pull a blanket tight around your shoulders.

When the sun came up you didn’t move from the chair. Not even when Feyre brought you breakfast. She begged you to talk but all you could do was shake your head.

Every night you pretend to go to bed with Rhys and Feyre. You wait until their breathing calms and Rhys’s light snores fill your ears to go to the armchair.

It’s the only place the nightmares don’t reach you. The men that took you can’t reach you here.

You see the men every time you close your eyes. Still feel their hands pulling at you when they took you.

You sit in the armchair for months. Watching as winter melts into spring. Becoming a shell of yourself.

Nyx tries to sit with you, and you at least talk with him. You could never break his heart.

Midway through March, Rhys put his foot down. When you tried to sneak downstairs he shot out of bed, blocking your way. You were so shocked you couldn’t speak.

“Sit,” he commands. Feyre pulls you to her side, cradling your head against her chest. “Y/n, we know you haven’t been sleeping,” Rhys kneels in front of you. “We know why you’re having nightmares and I’m begging you, please let us help.”

Unsure silence engulfs the room. Rhys and Feyre hold their breath as they watch your tears slow. You take a deep breath and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know I’m safe,” you start. “But every time I close my eyes I’m back there with them and I’m cold and I’m hurt. When I sleep I’m tied to that chair again. I don’t know how to make it stop and I’m sorry.” Fresh tears wet your cheeks.

Feyre pulls you closer so you’re practically on her lap. Her own tears wetting your hair. “You saved me, so why am I like this?” You whisper.

“My love.” She coos. “It was a terrifying thing to go through. Your feelings are normal, even if they don’t feel like it.”

Rhys rubs slow circles on your back. “We can help you, love. Why didn’t you say something sooner?” You shrug. “I didn’t think there was anything to do.”

The next night your mates leave no room for argument as they smooshed you between them. You let sleep claim you. Soft talons caress your mental shields until they have a hold on your dreams. Nothing but bliss and welcome darkness keeps you asleep.

[redpill-tfs]

Red Wave

January 1st, 2025

Yo, so I started this Red Wave trial thing today. The docs said it’s supposed to, like, make your brain work better or something. Was told to track my thoughts in this journal thing. Honestly, I’m just here for the cash. I’m not buying into any of their science-y shit. Took the first pill this morning. Feel normal so far. Guess we’ll see if this stuff actually does anything.

Since I was told to describe myself a bit, I guess I might as well if I want that cash they promised. Name's Blake. I'm 26 and work at a local manufacturing company in the finance department. It's a pretty chill gig. Don't gotta wear a suit either which is good. Didn't even wear one to my graduation and I don't plan on starting now.

Anyway bro, I'm also a proud atheist. Never got into politics, but I guess I'm more liberal. I mean, just let people do what they want, right?

February 10th, 2025

Alright, not gonna lie, I’ve been feeling kinda sharp lately. Like, my head’s clearer, and I’m getting more stuff done at work. My boss Emily even said my presentation didn’t totally suck, which is rare. Oh, and I actually ironed my shirt today before work. Don’t know why—just felt like I should look decent. Weird, right? Maybe these pills aren’t total BS. I don't know why, but I've been thinking of wearing a tie to work...

March 12th, 2025

So get this, man: I bought a suit over the weekend. A whole grownup suit and a tie to go with it. I dunno know why, but I just felt like stepping up my game for my presentation at work today. And man did I look good. I got so many compliments on my fit. It honestly felt really good. My bros thought it was weird and so do I, but now that I have it I guess I'll use it at another presentation in the future.

April 15th, 2025

Something weird is going on. I heard some chick at work talking about her church today. Instead of scoffing and rolling my eyes, it made me, like, think a little. Like I got curious about it. I don't know what's going on, but I might have to check it out sometime.

Speaking of work, I've been wearing a tie more and more. It feels... right. People seem to notice too. I get so many compliments about them. I went back to the store and pick out a whole bunch of different colors. I may be the only guy in the department wearing one, but standing out isn't a bad thing I guess.

May 18th, 2025

Alright, so… I went to church today. Yeah, me. Blake, the proud atheist. Walked past St. Mark’s on the way to grab Starbuck's, and something just made me stop and go in. The music was kind of awesome, and the pastor’s talk about purpose hit me harder than I expected. I don’t even know what’s happening to me, but I’m starting to think there’s more to life than what I’ve been living. I might go back next week to see what I've been missing, but I'm not sure yet.

June 30th, 2025

This morning, I prayed. Like, actually prayed to God. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, but it felt… good. I’ve also started reading bits of the Bible over the past week. There’s some deep stuff in there. Work’s going great, too. I’ve been mentoring one of the new guys, and Emily says she’s impressed with my leadership. Suits are now my everyday thing. Who knew dressing sharp could feel so right?

July 23rd, 2025

I’ve been pulling away from my old friends. Their whole sarcastic, edgy vibe just doesn’t sit right with me anymore. Instead, I’ve been hanging out with people from church who share my interest in self-improvement and faith. I’m even thinking about joining a volunteer group at the church. Life feels more meaningful now. My mind still feels so clear too. I don't know what this pill is doing to me, but it's working.

August 11th, 2025

I’ve been reflecting on some big ideas lately: responsibility, tradition, family values. They make so much sense now. I’ve also started watching a few commentators online who align with these views. Their logic is compelling. Honestly, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. It’s like a veil has been lifted. Why should abortion be legal? Why should we violate the second amendment with gun control laws? Why do gays think thy can decide how the rest of us live our lives? So many questions I'm learning the answers to. I never paid much attention to politics, but maybe I should.

September 7th, 2025

Sunday service has become the cornerstone of my week. I’ve officially joined St. Mark’s and volunteered for their community outreach. Pastor Williams’s guidance has been invaluable. I’m entirely committed to this new path. My wardrobe, my habits, even my worldview have all transformed. I’m proud of the man I’ve become. I've said this a million times already, but it just feels right.

October 20th, 2025

Today is my birthday, and reflecting on this past year astounds me. My former self seems like a stranger. I’ve embraced faith, order, and purpose, and it just feels right. I got my hair cut to be a lot shorter than I once had it as a special birthday gift to myself. It feels more appropriate for my new image.

I had some friends from bible study over for a small party. I wore my best suit for the occasion. We played games, ate good food, and prayed of course. There was a riveting debate on the role of faith in politics. All in all, it was a good time. I can't believe how much my life has changed just in 10 months.

November 30th, 2025

Today was the final day of the trial. The scientist leading the study asked me all sorts of questions, from my conservative views to my faith in God and my new sense of style. I'm not sure what it all has to do with a mental focus pill, but I didn't feel like asking questions. I'm sure they know what they're doing. Anyways, I better get going. St. Mark's is having an event today to celebrate God and all of His glory. I wouldn't miss it for the world.

December 1st, 2025

The Red Wave trial has concluded with a 100% conversion rate among participants. Subjects exhibited profound and permanent shifts in personality, behavior, and worldview. Pre-trial skepticism and liberal inclinations were entirely replaced with conservative, faith-based identities. This case highlights the pill's efficacy in aligning individuals with structured, traditional conservative values. Further research will examine long-term societal impacts of widespread application. More subjects needed.

[thesovereignsring-if]

Devlog (03/16/2025)

Hello Hello! It's been a while since you last heard from me. Longest story short, I got caught in another writers block because of a kink in the plot. It was very annoying and demoralizing, but it's been solved now (I saw the light!) and I've made a lot of progress afterwards.

So what's new?

Well, I'm pleased to say that the first draft of the entire prologue is complete! That includes the Empress's route and the final half of the prologue (Firelight) that happens after. There is some coding and light editing left to do, but it is done. I'm so glad I can say that I'm free of it without any regrets.

After that we will be continuing the story and catching up with some additional material for the next few months!

What to expect:

PATREON BUILD:

Patrons will be getting the final route (Route D) of the festival on Saturday March 22.

The second half of the "Prologue: Firelight" will be due to release sometime early-mid April

Chapter 1: Departure & Catastrophe will be going through some small revisions. Subchapter names may be changing to fit the revised storyline better.

PUBLIC BUILD:

Bug fixes for some issues in Thea's route will be coming out tomorrow or the day after

SATURDAY MARCH 29 update and will contain the missing Festival Routes C & D (Linnet/Eirik & the Empress's routes).

Two weeks after the Patreon update with Prologue: Firelight, the public build will be updated.

The word count of this project as of today is 100k+ words (Insane. This is my largest project ever), but at this moment only about 30k+ of it is there for the public.

Thank you so much to everyone who has been supporting me and this projects throughout the hiatuses and the delays. Spring is back and my mental health definitely improves because of it. I hope to share more writing and artwork ( I will get to finishing the poll winners, have no fear) with you all in the future. I'll be going back into my inbox to answer questions, but I'll let this post sit for a few hours until I do ^^)

TTYL <3

Lili

[satoruxx]

pairing: vampire poly!sashisu x reader | 1k words summary: basically describing how they bite and drink your blood, description of blood, pet names, teasing, lots of touching lol, somewhat suggestive bc it's vampires ig, but nothing crazy i'm just feral rheya’s note: you don't understand i've been thinking of vampire sashisu since march and ari fueled my obssession yesterday so here we are

no bc the way there are subtle differences in how vampire poly!sashisu drink your blood…

shoko takes a drink first. it's understood among the three of them that she gets you first—she's the one who found you and brought you into their lives after all. so suguru and satoru sit back and let her get close, her smile going soft as you lock eyes with her. "hey baby," she grins as she gets into your space, and you laugh quietly in return. her lithe fingers gently crawl over the skin of your neck, brushing away any hair and leaving her favorite spot open. shoko loves your neck—has since the very beginning. maybe it's the doctor in her, or just some deeper carnal part of her, but she likes the spot where she can feel your pulse best—can feel it thundering under her lips. "ready?" she murmurs against your throat every time, and you'll sigh over her shoulder and nod yes.

shoko's bites are clean, and she usually restricts it to one spot unless she's feeling particularly ravenous. the side of your throat is hers, even though satoru tends to like it there too—there's a silent understanding between the two that it's her preferred area. when she's drinking her lashes will flutter, hints of red seeping into her normally hazel eyes. one hand will trail up your arm soothingly while the other remains still over your neck. she's reliable and comfortable and so so perfect. shoko is fantastic with her control, and since she's normally first, she'll only take as much blood as she truly needs before sitting back and smiling at you. her eyes dart over your flushed face as she wipes her bloodstained lips clean. "thanks baby," she finally sighs as she tucks your hair behind your ear.

suguru goes next, because he's levelheaded, and somehow seems to care more about your needs than his own. he crawls towards you, wetting his lips as his hooded eyes dart over you. you've been with him long enough to catch the silent question for consent, and he's known you long enough to understand when you say yes. suguru's favorite spot to drink from is your wrist—there's just something so intimate about it. and he always always always presses a kiss to it before his meal. sometimes it's a featherlight brush of lips, other times it's chaste and passionate—but he never forgets it. it's almost like a silent thank you for your generosity.

when suguru drinks, his eyes never stray from you. they remain open and hooded, going dark with a mix of pleasure and affection, but they won't go anywhere else. his gaze is so intense, but it's softened by the smile you can feel stretching across your wrist as he drinks. it's like he wants you to know that you are his only priority. when he drinks, his fingers will brush over your hand to comfort you through any pain because god knows he hates the idea that it causes you pain. he hums against your skin too, as he drinks—he needs you to know how good you taste. and when he's done he has to give the spot one more kiss. gently, of course, because he knows it's sensitive and he just needs a small gesture to display the magnitude of his love for you. "still okay, sweetheart?" he'll ask, lips finding your forehead. he just needs to make sure you're still good.

and then there's satoru, the most eager of the three. he thinks his eagerness is justified—he drank your blood once and has been hooked on it ever since. he claims there's nothing in the world that tastes better, and by the time it's his turn he's practically giddy. satoru is somewhat of a wild card as a vampire. depending on how he's feeling, he may tease you as he drinks or just desperately goes straight for it. regardless of what he's feeling, there is always an underlying tenderness hidden beneath his interactions with you. the same goes for his preferred spot. he's like shoko and suguru—he likes the throat and the wrist; thinks they're both fun. he goes for the throat more commonly because he likes how close you are to him. when he's drinking from your neck his fingers will almost always tangle themselves through your hair—he just likes how it feels and how easy it is for him to maneuver you the way he likes. if he's going for your wrist he'll usually just shut his eyes and drink deeply, because gods above is he on cloud nine when he tastes you.

and yet all of you know that satoru's true favorite spot is your thighs. he loves how flustered it gets you, loves how wild it makes him feel. he's almost always feeling extra playful when he goes for your thighs, and it shows in his deep throaty chuckles that he lets out against your skin. he loves how messy it gets too, because in between his playful laughs your blood ends up dripping down over his chin and staining him red—it makes his head spin and his heart race. but when he's done drinking satoru only cares about making you smile. sometimes he'll give you a silly grin and say "thank you for the meal, pretty," and you'll just weakly shove him away with a fond roll of your eyes. but he just takes your face in his palms and presses a warm kiss to your lips—a muted thank you.

and of course, when everyone's done and satiated, shoko starts quietly fussing over how you need to drink and eat and lay down because they've taken a lot from you. suguru is already grabbing blankets and maneuvering pillows in the way he knows you like best while satoru digs around for his favorite snacks that he's always willing to share with you. the three of them dote on you like crazy, keeping you wrapped in their embrace until you're peacefully dozing off. they just love their little human so much, but how can they not? after all, as insane as it is, you've somehow managed to wrap three powerful vampires around your little pinky finger—not that they would have it any other way.

[winningmymind]

Part 3 Kevaaron/Andreil based off this aftg au post. Part 1, Part 2

Andrew blankly stares at a yawning Aaron. “Why are you here?”

They're standing in the parking lot. The four of them.

“Night practice.” Aaron tiredly replies, not bothering to mask his yawn. He's lugging an overstuffed backpack full of notebooks and a secondhand laptop.

Immediately, Andrew turns his sharp gaze onto Neil and Kevin, who are pretending to look innocent, idly hanging back a safe distance just in case it all goes south. At least Neil has the guts to look Andrew straight in the face. Kevin just glues his eyes to Aaron's sleepy demeanor.

He offers up his last energy protein bar from his pocket, the one that actually tastes decent, unlike the bland flavors Kevin attempts to urge the Foxes to eat. Aaron absently takes and devours it, unaware or uncaring of Kevin’s tiny prideful smile at the brief grazing of their fingers.

“You two are up to something. Don't like it.” Andrew clocks the strikers in a heartbeat, but doesn't press any further. Not now. He stalks off to the car and the rest of them obediently follow.

In the bleachers, Andrew and Aaron take a seat while Neil and Kevin run through drills. Andrew would usually take a nap or watch the Exy junkies with a bored expression until it was time to go. This time his attention is solely on Aaron, who's sitting a few spaces to the left of him reviewing notes. 

Aaron isn't sparing a single glance at his brother, although he can feel Andrew's demanding stare that they should talk to each other. He's always doing that when Aaron's in the middle of studying nowadays. Another non-verbal cue Bee suggested Andrew do to get Aaron’s attention, a softer way of expressing want instead of his usual rough edges. It both irritates and pleases Aaron.

“What?” Aaron gives in and angles his head to the side.

“You're at night practice, but you aren't practicing.”

“Could say the same for you.”

“I'm the driver. Your excuse?”

“Ask them for the details.” Aaron points at Neil and Kevin running across the court like madmen and then returns his focus on studying.

Andrew doesn’t need to be told twice and stands up, scaling down the bleachers. The sudden movement startles Aaron for a moment, and he watches his twin march like he’s on a mission. Kevin and Neil notice from their peripheral, jogging up to meet Andrew halfway.

“Finally come to join us?” Kevin’s too pumped from adrenaline to remember how foolish that sounds.

“Silence.” Andrew presses a finger to his lips, shaking his head at Kevin's frown. He turns to Neil next, locking eyes with him. “I've warned you once. Don't make me say it again.”

“We haven't even done anything.” Neil wipes the sweat from his brow, lying through his teeth. He didn't think Andrew would catch on so soon.

Kevin nods in agreement, feigning ignorance. “Andrew, you're interrupting training. Either gear up and play or standby.”

“You aren't fooling me.” Andrew tells them, slightly tilting his head in his twin's direction, who shouldn't be here at all. “You two don't talk to what's mine unless I say so. And I never gave permission.”

It's true. On the court and during Wymack's mandated practices, Kevin and Neil are only allowed to talk directly to Aaron in a team setting, or if Nicky’s present, never ever alone. Reason being is that they're not exactly subtle. Every one of the Foxes knows Kevin and Neil have the hots for Aaron and Andrew. Except for, maybe, Aaron. 

He's somehow both bright and dense and completely untrained in realizing someone wants him if not explicitly told. A fact that amazes/annoys Andrew and tickles Nicky silly.

Aaron never picks up on Kevin's favoritism. Nicky's been Aaron's only exposure to guys flirting and coupling up, and since Kevin isn't nearly as flashy or intense or bold, Aaron remains clueless. 

Andrew, however, was able to pinpoint Neil's exact fascination toward him from the special treatment he keeps receiving. Neil always comes to Andrew seeking genuine conversations, not the standard small talk he does with the rest of their teammates, and constantly looks elated whenever he discovers anything new about Andrew like a pirate getting lost treasure.

This day was bound to happen. Andrew just lying in wait, preparing for when the Exy junkies would want more than a runner's high as their fix. Whatever they’re planning, it would get them nowhere in the Minyard twins’ pants, Andrew would make sure of it.

“We didn't abduct Aaron. If that's what you're thinking. He came on his own free will.” Kevin says.

Andrew isn't impressed. “Playing dumb still? You will regret it.”

“Too late for that. Aaron's going to tag along until finals.” Neil shrugs.

Andrew quirks a brow at that. “Exy or exams?”

“Both… I think?”

“You're a dead man walking.” Andrew’s eyes light up dangerously. Neil doesn’t fold.

“Eh, heard it before.” Then Neil’s voice takes on a teasing lilt. “Plus, you wouldn’t want to get rid of me too fast. Not when Aaron and I cut a deal where I look over his math? You know how sensitive he is about his grades.”

Andrew clenches his fists and spins on his heel, leaving Neil and Kevin to return to the bleachers, less he slice them up with his many hidden knives should their conversation continue. Neil and Kevin can practically see the murderous mood he's in. In the time that they were talking, Aaron had made his backpack a pillow and fallen asleep, the protein bar not enough to keep him awake. Andrew sits closer to Aaron's outstretched form like a guard dog, staring daggers in Neil and Kevin's direction.

“Could've gone worse. I'd count this as a success.” Neil’s satisfied.

“Remind me. How is this a success again?” Kevin huffs.

Neil looks at Kevin with wide eyes, like Kevin should be able to read his thoughts and simply get it. That makes Kevin scowl deeply at him and Neil sighs.

“I made a loophole to speak to Aaron without consequences and Andrew cares too much about Aaron to fuck that up, meaning I’ve postponed my death by his hands so far.” Neil explains and then he pokes Kevin in the chest. “Now, it’s up to you to find a way to bypass Andrew’s Don’t-Talk-To-My-Twin rule for us to really woo them.”

“How do I do that?”

“Common ground.”

“Like what?”

“Two words.” Neil holds up two fingers. “Medical history.”

And the intangible light bulb floating above Kevin’s head cuts on, shining brightly like his eyes as Neil's genius comes into fruition. There’s a plethora of documentaries about medicine, doctoring, and diseases that Kevin knows will pique Aaron’s interest for a marathon on a Saturday afternoon or Sunday morning when they’re visiting Columbia. He could get Aaron to laze about with him on the couch for hours, bonding maybe, make it a routine, make it their thing even.

Kevin Day has never been so ecstatic that his and Aaron’s majors smoothly overlap for this to be considered possible.

"I'll distract Andrew. You handle Aaron."

They clack rackets and then get back to night practice drills. 

tagging @icangotwiceashigh @little2nerdy @luadusk @a-had-matter @aceadoxography @emilibs

[tothosewholisten]

Forever Healed | TUA insert

Chapter 00: The Beginning of the End

next chapter>>

Masterlist

…

On the 12th hour of the first day of October 1989. 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got seven of them, yes seven.

..

MARCH 21, 2019

I have to be at least somewhat proud of myself for lasting this long. I thought as I sat on the bus, not everyday you are born with magical powers and are destined to save the world from evil. Yes, hearing myself think that sounds crazy. But that's normal in my life.

I had reached my stop after a half an hour of sitting with my earbuds in, listening to nothing at all. I just wanted to seem unapproachable on the sketchy city bus.

My destination was a terribly designed office building, the space was so crammed and ugly it made me want to turn right back around and get on that bus again. But I didn't because I was trying to convince myself that this would be good for me, but I didn't believe my words.

I was about to have a therapy session with some middle-aged white lady who has glasses and tell her all of my life issues, starting every week at 5pm..

It's not like I had anything else going on, I haven't had work for days now. So I thought I'd give it a shot.

The waiting process made me anxious as hell, I finally got the courage to walk up to the front desk and gave the man who sat there my name. And now I have to wait for this lady to get done with some other patient.

I sat on a chair and frowned, like she is really going to be focused on "my" problems and not the 30 other people she sees today.

I swear it was only a second into me zoning out when I heard my name yelled. "Y/n L/n? It's so nice to meet you!" A woman said, when i looked up at her i saw the exact lady i was describing earlier to the closest details.

I let her lead me to a smaller room that looked way better than the lobby. It had two chairs, a water machine, some fidget items and a large window view of the city. Gloria, I learn to be the name of my therapist, asks me to sit with her.

She clears her throat, "I know this is our first session so you may not be the most comfortable sharing details. But I'd like to know a little bit about you if you're okay sharing."

“Well, I’m 29 years old and a home care nurse.” I say slowly. Hearing the words leave my mouth I knew I haven’t amounted to a lot in my years.

"Oh wow, 29? I would've never guessed that Y/n, you don't look a day over 21" Gloria complimented me i give her a tiny smile in return.

I'm not sure why that is, I get that a lot in my working field. Older women saying that they wished they looked as young as me.

"That's a great start for today's session." She smiles, "A little bit me is, you know my name already but I'm 56 years old since Monday. I have 3 children and a cat named Mr. Furball."

I regret what i said earlier because I think I already like Gloria and not just because of Mr. Furball. But the fact that she has a calming sense about her. I find myself listening to what she's saying, and I rarely do that with people nowadays.

"But I would like to hear more about your upbringing, how’d you become the fine young lady you are today?" She says.

Oh, she wants to hear about my childhood. I mean I knew she would ask but so soon, I'm worried about saying anything. So I told her that.

"I'm worried about opening up to someone about my past cause well I've never done it before." I said.

She hands me a cup of water. "That's okay Y/n, we can take it at your pace."

“I grew up in a small house with my mom and dad until I was twelve. When I was scouted by Reginald Hargreeves because of my unique abilities. And I've been there ever since I was 18 when I moved out to live on my own.” I waited for the burst of confusion I was about to get from Gloria. Not everyday one of the Umbrella Academy walks into your office.

“Oh wow…” she says, eyes wide. “You're one of those superheroes? That’s amazing wow.” She nervously chuckles “I’m sorry I’m normally not this shocked about things, and I hear a lot on the daily.”

“It’s okay” I say, staring at my hands.

She clears her throat. “I'm sure being apart of the Umbrella Academy was big but could you tell me about your life before that?”

I closed my eyes for a couple of seconds, pictured my childhood in my brain and opened my mouth.

"Well, I'm sure to this day my father still thinks that my mother cheated on him, due to his "daughter's" virgin Mary-like creation since they were just newlyweds. He held it against my mother all of her life." I took a sip of water and continued.

"I'm not sure why he turned to alcohol. But that turned out as you could expect. He turned on everyone around him and acted like a beast. He regularly attacked my mom for anything she did wrong. But what made him more angry was that his freak of a daughter could heal her mother, after every beating."

"My mom told me before I left I had made her so much happier and in her words. She didn't even question these strange occurrences; she knew her baby was special." I smiled a bit.

I could tell that Gloria was painting a picture in her head of what I was describing too.

"And by the age of 8, I was standing up to my father, even if it didn't end so well. I'd get the beating instead but by the next day, my bloody body would be as good as new. On the surface at least, I had lots of internal issues from that time. But none of that stopped my father from trying to get equal with me.." I stopped talking after that.

My eyes could only focus on my right hand as it was picking at my left hand's skin. It was a habit I picked up as soon as I started to use my powers because I knew my skin would be right back to normal in the next few minutes.

"That's awful y/n I'm so sorry." She frowned. "Would you be okay with continuing?"

I blink up at her. “Yes, that would be okay,” I said. “Then there was this one day..”

..

17 YEARS AGO

“In five, four, three, two. This is Jim Hellerman, reporting live for channel 2 News outside of the Capital West Bank at Main and Sixth. A group of heavily armed men stormed the bank not three hours ago and took an unknown number of hostages.”

That was the big news update of September 2002, I remember. Well I don’t really have to think about it much because I was there with my mom at the bank. She planned on making some deposit when we were screamed at, not to leave by a man who had his gun pointed at us along with so many other civilians. He taped us up and told us to stand in a corner.

That was the first and only time I feared for my life. Police didn’t want them to start shooting, so they didn’t come into the building. Meaning that we were on our own and could die at anytime

One of the armed men walks into the scene unfolding. Sirens blaring, people getting shoved around and threats being made to the innocent.

“Now you’ve put me in a position where I gotta do something I don't want to do. Hmm?” He said talking to another person on his walkie talkie.

My mom brought me closer to her trying to use her body as a shield if things went south. And to us we thought they were about to be.

But strangely, a girl walked up to the man. She’d looked to be around my age in a school uniform and cartoon mask. Her loose curls bounced in the wind as she skipped up to him.

“Shit!” He screams putting his device down. Not noticing the girl until a few seconds after his outburst. “Hey, get back with the others.” He told her, trying to sound intimidating but she didn’t seem to fear him at all.

“I heard a rumor.” She spoke out.

He bent a little to reach her height and get in her face. “What? What did you say?”

She leaned in and cupped her hand to mimic whispering in his ear but loud enough for all of us to hear. “I heard a rumor that you shot your friend in the foot.”

Without any hesitation he did what she commanded and shot the nearest armed man who happened to be trying to rough up my mom. We screamed as he kept shooting.

“We just heard shots from inside the bank. It’s uncertain if any hostages have been harmed in that.”

“There’s some movement on the roof. Possibly law enforcement.”

A loud crash and a boy landed down from the roof. It was crazy he wasn’t harmed at all from that high distance. He was also wearing the same mask and uniform as the girl but he had blond hair. From where he landed he jumped on one of the robbers and started beating him to a pulp, and then throwing him out a glass window.

“Looks like one of the armed robbers had been thrown from the bank.”

Another boy with brown hair runs in from the opposite doors as the girl and yells. “Guns are for sissies. Real men throw knives.” He then threw one of his knives and it curved in the air hitting a robber no where close to where the knife had originally been heading. It was incredible.

“I've been in many hostage situations like this, and it can escalate very quickly.”

The original man hops on a table pointing his gun out at the two of the before seen children plus another one. “Get back you freaks” he says walking back and forth in fear.

“Hey, be careful up there, buddy.” The knife boy calls out.

“Get back now!” The man screams.

“Yeah, I wouldn't want you to get hurt.” The girls mocking voice says.

Right before my eyes another boy teleports behind the man, sitting criss-cross on the table. “Or what?” He said calmly.

The man turns around and shoots at him but before the bullets could hit he teleports again. This time standing up with his arms crossed, clearly not impressed. But the man tries to shoot again.

“Ooh! That’s one badass stapler!” The boy laughs. The man no longer had a gun anymore but a stapler placed in his hand by the kid instead. The boy shoves the stapler into his face and the big man falls back, head hitting the floor before his body does.

“Although there’s been no activity for a few minutes, we’re gonna stay live on location to make sure we don’t miss a thing. In this hostage situation at the Capital West bank.”

The five already counted for children make way for the last and shortest one to make his move. “Do we really need to do this?” He talks quietly.

The blonde one replies to him. “Come on, Ben. There’s more guys in the vault.” So his name was Ben huh?

Ben sighs, “I didn't sign up for this.” Before walking into the room with more people. Large black tendrils illuminated the room as men screaming could be heard behind the door. And a beast roars but then the sound stops and Ben walks out again, this time covered in blood and guts.

He breathes heavily. “Can we go home now?” I felt bad for him.

The kids untied our hands and told us to run. And once it was clear to go my mom started to run out of the doors thinking I was right behind her.

“Now we see the hostages. They— They’re free. They’re scared clearly but they do seem to be unharmed.”

But I was behind her trying to help this older woman who’d slipped on the floor. As I was helping her, the kids walked out too.

“People are coming out now. It’s not the armed robbers. These are schoolchildren in uniforms with masks on. Jim Hellerman, Channel 2 News.”

But there was one not accounted for robber, the one from earlier who had been shot in the foot. I started to run out and call out to my mom who was outside. When the man got up from the floor, cocked his gun and shot at the kids.

Fortunately, he missed them but the bullet hit me.

Questions being asked to the children stopped when they saw my body flail onto the floor outside of the bank doors. I was shot right in the chest. There was blood everywhere and it started to leak over to where the kids were standing. They turned around to see where it was coming from..

Everyone looked horrified and there was a bunch of screaming. Mainly from my mother who was wailing as she ran over to hold me to her chest screaming for me to wake up. And that will be engraved in my memory forever after this day, I never wanted to hear her like this ever again.

Police started to rush over but in a matter of minutes, a miracle seemed to happen. At least to the city that is. There was a yellowish glow around my chest and the blood seemed to have reversed back into my body. Even the stains on my blue dress were gone. The bullet even spit out of my chest; it was truly witchcraft.

My eyes then shot open as I started to breathe in and out.

I don't exactly remember what I felt during those moments but I'm sure I left those people around me stunned. After all this was their first look at powers.

I couldn't care what the paramedics were talking about above my body. I was focused on the 6 children looking at me bewildered as well as the old-looking man with them and whatever my mom was saying at the time.

I was put on a stretcher and rushed to a hospital for evaluations after the pandemics came but they never found anything. It was like everything was perfectly reattached.

But as I was leaving I could see the news reporters zeroing in on the kids trying to get the details on how these children saved the bank from thievery.

“Our world is changing.” The man spoke to the crowd. “Has changed. There are some among us gifted with abilities far beyond the ordinary.” He said looking back at the children. But they weren’t paying attention, some were staring at my ambulance and some eyes were on the ground.

“I have adopted seven such children. I give you the inaugural class of the Umbrella Academy.”

I now realize thinking back, the seventh person he was talking about was me..

..

PRESENT DAY

My mouth felt like it was moving faster than my brain so I took a pause and chugged the rest of my water cup.

Once again Glorias eyes were wide open. As she took some notes down in a notebook I never noticed beyond this point.

"Uh once I got home I remember the house phone noise filled my house with its nonstop ring, the other person on the phone would change my life forever when he came in.”

“And who was that person?" Gloria asked.

"Reginald Hargeeves, eccentric billionaire and caring father from what the public knew.." I rolled my eyes.

"So I'm guessing it wasn't really like that" she asked carefully.

"He was never a father really, more like a hard state-national basketball coach." She wrote that down.

"I guess it was a hard decision for my parents to make well, my mother. My father was ready to give me up as soon as Reginald stepped foot in my small house."

"And I'm sure they thought there was nothing bad about the offer they were given, he promised I'd be raised in a steady environment with the best schooling and my powers would be used for the greater good. And in exchange, my parents would get a large sum of money for my absence."

"What were you doing during this?" Gloria worried.

"I think I was just sitting right there next to my mom actually. I definitely didn't understand at that point what was happening to me. Still thinking about the events of that day.”

"And then I was being taken out of my only home in the blink of an eye. I resisted the people taking me, starting with screaming and then kicking and then running. Back to my mom's arms, Reginald himself had to pull me away from her. The deal had already been struck and there was no taking me back."

Now looking back at my hands I could only see small teardrops on my palms. Gloria reached for a tissue from the other side of the room. "Thank you," I said as I wiped my eyes.

"I like to think that my mom was upset that day but the memory has already started to fade as I reached adulthood.

You know after that day I was no longer 'Y/n L/n' no, I was known by my new name.. Zero Hargeeves."

..

I decided that was the end of my story, at least for now because I couldn't place the pieces together anymore. I was full-on sobbing at that point.

Gloria decided to bring up something more light to talk about next but I don't remember what it was because I'd zoned out and thought about the cat she'd told me about earlier.

The two hours seemed to fly by because the last thing I heard her say was if I didn't have anything else to talk about then that would be the end of the session. My legs seemed to move on their own as I walked out of that building. I would come back at the same time next week and honestly, I think therapy was for the best. I forgot about how I felt about all these things for the longest time.

I started the journey back to the bus stop, stopping to look in the windows of shops.

Shops like bakeries and bookstores and other things like that. Until I came to a stop in front of a store with a TV sticking out in the window.

My eyes scanned the screen and they went wide. The lady on the news had a somber expression as someone died. I was feeling sad for the person's family, but then I read the red-blaring headline.

The person who died was Reginald Hargeeves...

...

Aug 14 update:

If you'd like to be added to the tag list for rest of the series (starts at chapter 10) say taglist in the comments!

[saturn-wisteria]

How obsessed and hyper-fixated are you with your fanfic characters?

Me:

BOOKBINDING!

Ominis and Phineas now sit on my shelf along with my other books ♡

This was my first time binding fanfic, and no better choice than my own, "Take Me To The Lakes" (AO3 / Wattpad)

update (March 30): New cover art by the amazing @rinthecap 🩵

More photos and the step-by-step after the cut! (+ the appendix with Taylor Swift songs in a stylised lyric book)

I'm all about my crafty hobbies. I've been eyeing bookbinding for a while, and the algorithm finally convinced me to dive into it so I'd have a reason to procrastinate on writing

Having written a shorter fic ("Lakes" is roughly 35k words) gave me the perfect opportunity to start with something simpler.

The main tutorial used is the one by NeatFreakGeek on Tiktok.

Step 1: The typeset

I used the base template file by NeatFreakGeek, which already had the settings for printing in formatted book signatures.

With the basic body of the document formatted and ready, I started the personalization: choosing the fonts, spacing, sizing etc.

For the quote at the beginning, I chose one of the lines I wrote for Ominis + the wisteria.

For chapter headers, I chose the Gemini constellation. (In the story, Ominis and Phineas got their middle names from the stars in the same constellation, Castor and Pollux.)

I also made the chapter titles with the HTV to give it an extra glow.

Sight is overrated. Phineas makes all my senses the very essence of life itself.

Since the story was rather "short", in order to have a thicker spine, I added an appendix with the stylised "lyric book". This was probably my favourite part of typesetting!

Step 2: The textblock

With a little lot of trial and error and more mathematics than expected, I printed each signature at a time, then folded each at a time, making sure it didn't get mixed up across the signatures. My printer does front/back automatically, but to print the commissioned arts as borderless, I gave myself a headache, printing it separately and manually. This step could have been done considerably faster with a laser printer and b&w content only :)

Next, it was sewing and glueing. I won't go into detail here because the video tutorials are way better at explaining. All in all, with the right tools, this was done rather easily and with barely any mistakes, so I didn't have to print anything again, thankfully.

Step 3: The endpapers

I got a scrapbook 12x12in block in this abstract colours. I had many different ideas on how to match the theme, but I ended up choosing these colourful patterns that align with how Ominis perceives the world. Then, I added the quotes from the story.

The endpaper of the front got this sky-like print to go with the dialogue Ominis and Phineas have when they are children.

P: How would you know what blue skies look like? O: I don't know. And I don't mind not knowing.

The endpaper of the back is in green x blue shades, colours that are also a big part of the story. For the quote, I chose one of their last lines when their relationship is established.

P: Ominis, you always care too much about the others... but who takes care of you? O: No one ever did. P: Let me care for you. Please. Let me love you, Ominis Gaunt. O: Will it make any difference if I say no? P: Absolutely not. O: Will it make any difference if I love you back? P: Fucking absolutely yes.

Step 4: The cover! (Yes, the most interesting part!)

This was the most challenging step in both the conception of the design (too many ideas to choose from) and the execution (I've never hated box cutters so much.)

With the basic cardboard casing cut and glued, I chose a faux leather material as a book cloth. This might be the choice I regret the most, because the glue it comes with is not that strong, so it would often unstick easily, and also, it's a bit too thick, leaving the corners a bit weird. But the final result was a bit worth it.

For the cover design, I printed the art with fabric HTV and ironed it on. On top of it, I threw in some wisteria petals (a reference to the song "the lakes", by Taylor Swift), and another quote of the story at the back.

I didn't have a cricut machine back then for the vynil pieces, so I ordered it online. This part was harder than I thought, once again because of the faux leather choice: as I ironed the HTV, some parts of the material melted lol.

Lastly, I decided last minute to create a clear dust jacket because the combination of the faux leather + printed HTV seemed tro fragile to be handled. I liked the final result, but ironing the HTV on the acetate was a pain lol.

In summary, this was so much fun and not as hard as I expected, craft-wise. The designing of it all took the most time just because I wanted every little detail to have a meaning :)

I made two copies to gift one to a friend, so it gave me the opportunity to make the first one and mess it up, then, for the second one, I had already learned from my mistakes.

There are many things I'd do differently for my next binds, but that's the most fun part: experimenting with materials, themes, and processes.

[vaspider]

Okay, so I was waiting until I had more information before I said something, but this is what the last 2 months of my life has been like. Content warning for discussion of uterine shenaniganry.

In August, start having bad, random cramping, which is weird, because I'm in perimenopause! I talk to my doctor and we think it's probably just T-related bullshit. We start me on vaginal estrogen, but I'm aware that cramping can mean uterine cancer, so I push to get my pap smear six months early.

My doctor's office (not my actual doctor) fights me on it. I fight back. Originally, they wanted to schedule me for March, then December, and I said, nah, I'm not waiting, because if it is uterine cancer, that shit is aggressive. So we got the test done. Irregular findings, so we go for an ultrasound.

As this happens, the cramps get worse, until I am feeling like I'm in the early stages of labor all the time.

Long story short, I have a golf ball of a fibroid sitting in the top of my uterus, and I've since found out that my grandmother had a hysterectomy for the same thing about my age.

So, here's the advice bit:

Unusual cramping, if you have a uterus, should be treated as if it might be Something Serious. Don't brush it off. Insist your doctor take it - and you - seriously. If your doctor doesn't take you seriously, please fire them and get a better one if possible.

Ask your parents to tell you as much as they know about your grandparents' and aunts' and uncles' health. In the last week, I've found out about A Lot of things I should have known a long, long time ago. Like, the number of things I've learned that I should have known has become an inside joke with a certain circle of my friends.

Get your pap smears, y'all. The sooner you find problems, the sooner you can deal with them.

Anyway, I probably can't evict all this bullshit until January, and I'm in a lot of pain basically all the time. So y'all are gonna have to forgive me if I'm a little distant and tired.