#it's weird how these two never interacted

[iluvsanrio444]

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chapter one plot ⋆˚࿔ : Ever since interactions between Huntrix and The Saja Boys, Romance had been eyeing you down. The exchanged glances and personal space not being a thing each time till the point you find yourself in a fling with Romance. That’s how you thought to view it as, no more than a fling, right? Humans and demons aren’t capable to love each other. Even hunters wouldn’t be capable. What makes you expect this would actually turn out right?

word count -> 2,624

#Fluff #mild-angst #comedic #romcom #movies-plot #context based

ʚɞ A/N: Depending on the performance for this chapter, i’ll turn this into a series with many more chapters to come by! Any suggestions after this feel free to send me anything or maybe feedback :3 ENJOYY!!

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There were a millions of reasons why this shouldn’t be happening. Not like this.

It started with innocent long glances between the two when both HuntriX and The Saja Boys would conflict with each other. Nothing out of the norm, right? However, whenever interactions like these happen, you can't help but always feel a pair of eyes on you, you only. The way he lingered a little longer before following the others to exit. Softening gazes when you did make eye contact, one where.. he— he meant no harm? Nonsense, he's a demon. All demons are nefarious.

Even knowing this, being the odd one out it felt weird at first, but soon after it tingled within your heart, the strings being tugged on like wireless cables. This was only the result of Celine's parenting, continuously doting on Rumi even after knowing both you and she possess your father's demon traits. The only difference was she had it all: the talent, the aspiration, the ability, and the power. Everything. You? …Yeah maybe some aspiration and some strength but never the talent. At least not up to Rumi's level.

As days passed by, there were challenges between the sisters, but this played out well since it did make them grow fonder and understanding of each other, trying to accept their roles. It wasn't so bad; you didn't have to hide the staggering markings with Rumi and Rumi too. It only hit you meticulously at times, looking at the group performing from the wings, fans cheering them on..being loved, acknowledged for who you are, and recognised for you.

You were supposed to be up there if only your mother had just… put a little oomph into you, you know? Instead, you were just their helper, a personal manager next to Bobby. Although you did have trouble accepting this, the only way was to force yourself. It was, in fact, inevitable at the end of the day.

Who the hell would be contempt with this? You must be Buddha to be!

Every time it was like someone immensely poking drumsticks at your abdomen each time fans recognised the trio whilst you had to stand at the sides. Invisible. To you it felt like you were their clerk at times, nothing less different than from a Joseon princess's eunuch; you might as well scream jeonhaaa. Ugh. Anyone who knew your situation would take pity on you or, matter of fact, just clown you for it. Yeah, you were the clown near the trio, - it felt like putting rouge on a corpse.

Being Rumi’s sister, you were already built to despise the Saja boys ever since they debuted with their song “Soda Pop”. Even Zoey, who always was headed to whichever guy she comically popped popcorn out of her eyes and even bopped her shoulders to their song, had some hatred for them. Yet here you are, hands limp on the metal railing, tinging your forearms with its mint. Again he had come by one of the members in the same very group you were told to despise. Romance. The palpable, effortlessly charming, labelled ‘playboy’ in the group, the annoying sugar-gazing... loveable… enduring — okay, what the flip. As your eyes followed the pink-haired man swiftly but silently jumping over the railing, a sigh left, knowing where your thoughts were headed about this overly love-addict bastard.

“You’re here..- again?” Your eyes still focus on Romance, clearly not fazed by this in the moment. You didn't have any energy to be bothered. It was already midnight, and Huntrix was making their comeback song “TakeDown” for the idol awards. A long day being a dog, to be honest. At least Romance came by then and there; honestly, his timing is really meaningful to you, obviously. He's a weird demon or whatnot; what feelings does he have?

Romance gave that same earnest gaze along with that bitchboy smirk, “Don’t act like you enjoy it—“

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t Romance.”

“Oh yeah?” He took his place beside you, having his elbow rest on the railing whilst the other hand cupped his cheek, hunching his back a bit to your height, looking down. “Then why did you even notice me in the first place?”

A scoff leaves your mouth, “Who the hell wouldn’t notice a tall ass pink heart shaped hair climbing onto my damn balcony?” Romance couldn't help but let out a laugh seeing how pent up you had gotten. He was the ‘playboy’ in the Saja Boys, but that didn't stop him from being a damn heartthrob who noticed even the littlest things. That charm of his grabbed you, and he knew it.

“What's so funny?” You gave him a sideways glance, “You, getting so worked up.” Your entire head was facing him with your face getting more of a scowl in annoyance, “How does Jinu even handle you..”

In response, Romance dramatically tugged on his shirt, his hand on his heart and a grunt in pain, “Mentioning another man when I'm here… ack—!” Followed by that adoring smile his fans go ballistic for, “Y/N!”

Rolling your eyes, a staggering smile threatening to appear on your lips. You nudged him a bit by your elbow near his ribs, “Shut it, you sound like a damn rat dog.”

“RAT DOG?!”

Romance made even more grunting in comical pain, intentionally making it louder for the trio to hear him. In a haste you snapped your head to your room door and back to him. What if they heard? “Aii! Okay okay..” She placed her hand now on his forearm. “A— uh.. Pomeranian dog okay? Happy?” He bent down a bit more to meet her eyes. “Happy.” The sudden closure brought both of you to an airtight silence, feeling the rise in warming tension between the two, face to face. It stayed like that for a while, with not many words or bickering said but a lot more meaningful intent. This thing you and him had going on… this fling – who knows what can happen to them? A mouthy ‘why’ tried to escape your mouth but was immediately greeted by Romance having another hearing of Gwi-Ma's malicious announces.

Already weakening his knees, he was forced to buckle down onto the floor whilst his hands hastily made their way to his ears. Trying to block out any sound or just Gwi-Ma's voice in general. Moments like these made you question if all demons were truly wicked. You didn't have the slightest clue what to do, but you went through it, kneeling down to his height. Taking in what was going on, you knew it was Gwi-Ma's daily threats he told you about, seeing how he blocked his ears, his eyes trembling, sweat running down and, most importantly, his demon marks showing through. You never had any of these Gwi-Ma stuff for whatever reason, but the least you could really do is comfort the poor gu— demon.

Your hand made its way to his back; at first he flinched away slightly but soon realised that your hand made gentle pats. Soothing your hand up and down his back with small pats filled with genuine worry, soft enough to not throw him off yet enough to signal him you’re here. “Aii rat dog, I'm here, okay?” With a small smile, you jokingly cooed to him, just trying to get his mind out of the gutters in Gwi-Ma's constant threats. What if some demons aren't that bad? Your doubt with Celine's life teachings against demons only grew the more you saw Romance in pain.

He flashed a quick smile hearing what you called him again, giving a weakened expression, one that was vulnerable. Nevertheless, only you saw the one he felt most comfortable with. “Seriously? Is 'rat dog' going to be my new nickname or what?” The snigger left before you could even reply, giving out a smile that was once hidden with others. Even your own sister. “It suits you.” However, despite the sniggers that escaped, you felt his eyes only on you. He didn't laugh with you; he followed you with that adoring gaze yet again, only smiling in response, admiring your raw self.

“Whatt?” You asked as you calmed down from the high in the joke, your smile still in contact. A small “hm” noise when she tilted her head left and right, patting her hand on his back more. “Romance?”

“Cute.”

“Eh?”

“Sometimes you can be adorable, Y/N, even when I get under your ski—.”

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A snap back to reality caused you to shoot up from the floor; the beaten red look on your cheeks went against you. Hitting him multiple times on the shoulder, causing him to go, “Ah! What the hell?!” You quickly dragged Romance up on his feet and pushed him into your room. “Yah! Y/N? She's going to see me, dumbass; I'm too big-!” He retaliated against you trying to keep himself outside of the closet. You gritted your teeth, “Shut up and get in the damn closet!” In one big push you managed to shove him into your closet. Whilst being practically plunged into the closet, he put his hand on top of his heart-shaped hair and yelled in a long whisper, “No, my hairr..!”

Thud.

Knock, knock, knocₖₖₖₖₖ

“I’m coming!” You yelled out at the continuous knocking, Who the hell was it? Looking around your room for any hints that Romance, who is literally here, left to indicate his presence. Why? Well, I don't know. Maybe because Huntrix HATED him and his group's guts? You didn't see any signals that would suggest Romance being here, so in a swift gallop skip, you opened the door to see the three: Rumi, Mira, and Zoey.

“What took you so longg?” Zoey asked in her high-pitched tone, draping her arm around your shoulder whilst Mira walked inside, no questions asked, “Took you long enough; the hell were you doing?”

“Oh, me? “Uh...” you quickly retorted in a giggle whilst scratching the side of your neck, letting out a believable yawn, “I was trying to sleep.” Zoey, Mira and you were already up to the shenanigans before Rumi walked in. “We need to talk.” Everyone's head snapped to Rumi with a curious yet nervous look. “Together. All of us.” This made your personal nerves even more tense knowing that Romance was in your closet doing God knows what.. probably worrying for his hair like usual. However, it wasn't just that; it was the look on Rumi's face. A look that she was familiar with whenever something happened with guilt.

Rumi sat everyone down in the living room, —Zoey on the singular rounded chair, Mira cross-legged beside me, and Rumi leg crossed in the centre. An uneasy feeling was known for a bit which didn't stop you from glancing at your bedroom door, worried for that pinky who was in your closet still. Hopefully. Ugh..you prayed to whatever god up there that he wasn’t snooping about and just stayed in your room like a good dog. Ironic.

Rumi took a deep breath and looked at everyone, “I know we don’t keep secrets between each other.” She startled you, thinking it was about time that Zoey and Mira knew about the half-demon breed you and Rumi are. But as soon as you heard the name, ‘Jinu’ you leaned back on the couch and exhaled, knowing where this one was going. It was obvious – maybe not to Zoey or Mira, but to you it was your sisters at the end of the day. Nothing can go unnoticed between the two… That being said, did Rumi know about your fling with Romance? You shook your head slightly, knowing you had to focus on what Rumi had to say.

Zoey and Mira were almost at the edge of their seats as soon as Rumi brought up Jinu. Zoey, of course, was giggling her ass off, whilst Mira had a weirded-out expression. “So.. I and Jinu have been talking…” Zoey was the one to scream first, “Talking as in how?!” Rumi couldn't keep her eyes on us. Keeping her hand grasped onto her forearm in embarrassment, she finally awkwardly responded, “I think we all know.. how..”

“Rumi, you were the one who told us not to get close with them.”

“I know..”

“Rumi, what's going to happen?”

“I don’t know.. but we’re trying to figure it out.”

“What about Gwi-Ma?” Your arms were crossed and dead set on Rumi. The only reason why you were serious in this question was because of.. Romance. What if there was a world where manipulated demons could live by with humans? Hunters? Why the hell did you care either way, let alone for Romance, its a damn fling. The three ladies had turned their eyes onto you, whilst Rumis widened slightly, “That.. we don’t know… It's only based on a theory.”

“Which is?”

“If we seal the honmoon before Gwi-Ma can even get fed more soul, the weaker he gets, right?” We all nod.

“No souls being fed is equal to no Gwi-Ma; he wouldn't be powerful enough.” Rumi kept doting on either of us as she explained the theory, “Don’t forget that the honmoon will seal the demons out for good, the demons alongside Gwi-Ma himself.”

“If, in some miracle, Jinu and probably the other Saja Boys don’t get into that sealing process, then maybe… just maybe they can get a second chance, a second life here… away from Gwi-Ma's torturous attacks.”

It was silent. Piercingly silent. You, Zoey and Mira were processing what the hell Rumi's theory was going on about. To be honest, in her case, it was making sense, and it did line up perfectly, but... where's the evidence? What happens if-

“What happens if it doesn’t work, Rumi?” Ah, Mira already caught you to the chase. “It will work, Mira. If we could tell Celine this and what she's told me beforehand, it will wor—“

“She told you stuff…?” Mira focused on that part. Shit. You already knew what Rumi was going on about, but these two don't know. You looked at Rumi in urgency as her own eyes flickered to yours in a second. “Celines told us about the honmoon no?” You chimed in, trying to save Rumi out of the corner, “She’s made it clear if the honmoon is sealed, the demons within that seal are gone for good. We never knew Gwi-Ma would even think to make a demon boy band and allow them to roam freely in the human world.” After my saving, Rumi could finally breathe, seeing Zoey and Mira buy into it. I gave a quick smile and half-hidden thumbs up to Rumi, in which she smiled back gratefully. It did make sense what I said. Its just.. the risk behind it.

“Would the Saja Boys even agree with this?” Zoey asked, already Googling, on the fact that she could keep that purple-haired, face-covered strange guy, Mystery. It made you laugh seeing Zoey always admiring mystery even though she denies all claims so freely. A tug on the dumbbells latched on your heart each time she did, though. Supposing that could be Romance and you… even if it was a fling or just interest.

“We can convince them!” Rumi declared loudly when Mira just smirked like she was the devil herself, cracking her knuckles, “If they do anything funny, I swear I’ll kill them all.”

Amidst everything going down and between the exchanged laughs and perseverance in comedic speeches about the Saja Boys, you noticed something off. At the edge of your vision, you spotted your bedroom door opened ajar. It dawned on you the possibility that Romance had heard everything; how much did he hear?

[clairewritesfanfics]

Villain Creation System Chapter 9

Pairing/s: Invincible x Reader x Invincible Variants

Warning: mild suggestive themes

CHAPTER 8: They Call Him– Series Masterlist <<read the synopsis and trigger warnings first>>

Mark was avoiding you. 

At first you thought that you were imagining it when you saw him on your way to Professor Harper’s lecture and he froze like a deer caught in the headlights before scrambling away, earning the ire of many students when he bumped into them. 

But he did it again–after class, you glanced at his usual chair up at the back. He flinched and practically leapt several steps before shuffling out of the auditorium. He almost knocked the professor onto the floor. It was a sight to behold. You would have laughed if you didn’t feel offended. 

Then, on your way to the library, you saw his reflection on the window panes. When you met his eyes, he spun around and disappeared before you could actually look at him.

You asked the system to show you the affection meter. It was still standing at a solid sixty-five percent.

“Are you sure you’re not broken?” You asked the system.

[Are you sure you don’t just smell like garbage?]

…what was going on in that boy’s head?

***

Mark loved to fuck.

If someone were to ask him what he did to help himself fall asleep, his honest answer would be exercise. 

Fighting bad guys barely broke a sweat but sex exhausted him in the best ways possible.

It was truly fortunate that he had his looks, one of the few good things his parents passed down to him.

He didn’t have a type and he has never said no when a pretty thing batted her lashes at him, which was not everyday but enough that there was an anonymous forum about his sexcapedes. He didn’t care (he cared a little). All the ladies that contributed to the forum had many things to say about him, most were compliments. Others were upset that he stopped doing it with them, but he had to, because while Mark did not object to a casual relationship, there were girls who said they wanted the same thing but clearly expected more. These were the women who saw him as a project, a fixer upper. He understood to some extent. Many novels and movies were about taming the ladykiller and a lot of the ladies he slept with wanted to be the one to tame him. 

But while he can feign romance for the one night stands that wanted the illusion, he was never interested in all the fluffy stuff. He didn’t need any heartwarming dates and cuddles, he wanted someone to warm his bed for a few hours; the chemical surge from sex helped him sleep.

Before he lost his virginity, he stayed awake until the break of dawn and greeted the rest of the day with only two hours of rest. 

But he found himself staying up late for different reasons ever since he entered college, specifically, after he met you. No, not met, he corrected himself, reunited. Although that made it sound like he already had a deep connection with you. In reality, you two were friends in the way office workers were friends; your parents were polite and welcoming to his mom and you were there. You were…just there.

It was normal not to remember much about the past, especially during childhood, but it was weird how Mark couldn’t recall a single unique interaction with you. He had no problem picturing his mom standing over his desk while he did his extra credit work, he can recall his days sneaking out of his room to play with William at the park, he still remembered how he stole a flashlight from his mom so he can read comic books past bedtime. 

You were different. When he saw you at Professor Harper’s class, standing proudly and beaming at the man’s arguments, he knew he had to know you. But then, he fumbled. It was like his brain glitched for a moment. He recognized you. Vaguely. You were that girl from next door. Aside from one very specific memory, he couldn’t conjure anything solid, but his mind told him that you were there; you played with him and William, offered food to his house when your parents made more, lent him your GameBoy and some comic books. But rather than a core memory, you were an afterthought. If Mark had to describe it, remembering you was like looking at a professionally edited photo. 

It was not a big deal. It was weird, don’t get him wrong, and it did catch him by surprise, but it didn’t scare him. But even if they were memories from his childhood, he liked to think that he would remember them better–that he would remember you at least. He remembered William, even when Debbie forced him to stop hanging out with him because “he was a bad influence” and Mark needed to focus on his studies. 

How could he have possibly forgotten about you?

Mark can’t imagine forgetting you. How could he when you kept him up all night? He couldn’t sleep, and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t just go and have some fling to be rid of you. He did consider it though. It was clear that you two were incompatible. He didn’t have girlfriends and he doubted that you were someone who would agree to being friends with benefits with him or anyone. And frankly, if he did get you to agree, he knew in his heart that he wouldn’t be able to remain friends with you.

Seeing you with that Rick–who Mark knew was into guys, but who’s to say he didn’t swing both ways?–it annoyed him. That never happened before. Mark always knew what he wanted and he did his best to communicate that with the women he spent time with; so it didn’t bother him that Amber started seeing someone else immediately after Mark broke off their FWB arrangement and he didn’t care that Eve got together with Rex after Mark told her he didn’t want a girlfriend. He was happy for them, that they found what they were looking for (at least, until Rex screwed up). He didn’t know what a happy relationship looked like. The best he could give them was mind-blowing sex.

Lying in bed, shoulder to shoulder, talking and cuddling… he never saw the appeal until you started showing up in his fantasies. When he caught you chatting with Rick at the food court, he lost it. 

He liked you.

He knew, but he only accepted it when you told him how you felt, well, when you told Invincible.

You liked him, you liked Mark Grayson. This was good news. Objectively. What was he supposed to do with this information? Why did he feel like throwing up every time he saw you?

His inner turmoil was interrupted by his watch buzzing, causing him to knock over his soda and fries onto the Burger Mart floor. 

We need to talk. Meet me at DR 5.

It was Eve.

He was tempted to tell her to just call, because he was in no mood to deal with anyone right now, but since she used the GDA communicators instead of the phone, he figured it must have been something important. He picked up the soda and fallen fries, threw them in the garbage and left a fifty-dollar tip as an apology. 

It was noon so most of the students were at lunch or napping, so the hallway to the discussion rooms were empty.

Mark knocked on the door to DR 5 and opened the door. “Eve?”

She was standing, arms crossed, in front of the whiteboard and next to the miniature podium. “Took you long enough.”

“If you’re looking for a good time, I’m sorry but this one’s temporarily off the market.”

Her eyebrow twitched. “You…”

He shut the door and approached her. “I’m kidding. What is it? Another job–”

“You’ve been acting weird,” she interrupted him. “Why do you keep ignoring her?”

“Who?”

“Don’t act dumb.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not ignoring her.”

“No, you’re right, you’re avoiding her. What the Hell, Mark?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“No,” a third voice shot through him like lightning. Mark slowly turned his neck and saw you crawl out from under the conference table in the middle of the room. With unhurried movements, you pushed yourself up and dusted your knees before you met his eyes. Your face was unreadable as ever. “But what about me?”

Eve patted his shoulder and whispered, “Don’t screw this up.” She then nodded at you and departed. The slow creaking of the door, followed by the quiet shut had cold sweat rolling down Mark’s back.

He could just run away again. Every atom inside him was on high alert, but he forced his feet to stay where they were. If he went and left you here, he would go from kind of a dick to total asshole in the span of two seconds. 

“H…hey, princess, what’s up?”

You were walking towards him now.

“If I knew you would be here I would’ve flown–ran here as fast as I could.” He took a step back, knocking off the handheld mic from the podium. The speakers screeched from the feedback. 

“Argh!” His hands flew to his ears. 

You were a foot and a half away from him now, but you weren’t stopping, even when you smoothly grabbed the mic, shut it off and put it back on the podium. 

The back of his shoulders hit the whiteboard.

“I-I promise I have an explanation for getting all weird, but right now I gotta go to my next class–”

You slammed your hands beside his ears. “Cut the crap, Grayson.” The whiteboard was still vibrating from the force of your hit. 

You caged him between your arms, leaning so close that he could feel your breath on his skin. 

Anyone else would describe the expression on your face as mildly irritated, but Mark knew that you were furious. “What the Hell is your problem?” Your voice was quiet but firm.  

Shit.

He breathed in slowly. You were too close. 

He needed to calm down before you noticed. 

“Listen, doll, I’ll tell you whatever you want, just… could you just step back?”

You narrowed your eyes. “If you run away–”

“I won’t.”

“No. I can’t trust you, tell me the truth first. Why are you avoiding me like I have the plague?”

Stubborn woman, he thought, but he was chuckling. “Okay. Okay, stay where you are.” He turned his pelvis slightly. “What do you want to know?”

“Why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“Bullshit.”

He groaned and pressed his butt closer to the whiteboard, hoping to gain some distance, but you infuriatingly leaned closer. 

“I don’t care what other people think of me,” you said suddenly, “but it hurts when someone I considered a friend goes out of his way to dodge me.” 

“Sweetheart–”

“Was it something I did? Something I said?”

He didn’t reply. He was still processing at you admitting that you considered him a friend. He always thought you saw him as that annoying guy you tolerated.

He only recovered when he heard you sigh.

“Why do I even bother?” You stepped back, pulling your arms.

“Wait.” He grabbed your wrist. “It’s nothing you did.”

“Then what?”

He fell quiet.

You sighed again and tugged your arm but he squeezed you softly before covering his mouth and muttering something.

“What?”

He mumbled, his eyes anywhere but on you. 

“Speak up.”

The hand on his mouth dropped limply to his side, revealing his apple-tinted face as he repeated, still unable to look at you, “I like you.”

taglist: @weponxwrites, @ratkidcalledallie, @qxuanii, @lilacoaks, @gluttonousriceflour, @phisen, @sleepyzzz3, @whaaaaaaaaat111, @ik33ponmakingc00ki3s, @lonely-entity, @noxus123

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, lots of things to deal with IRL and been escaping via video games lolol

Disclaimer: The images used in this post do not belong to writerclaire. They were lifted from the following sources:

Invincible flying

Alternate Invincibles

CHAPTER 10: Coming soon. Series Masterlist

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MAIN MASTERLIST

Any questions for the author? Ask here.

[dazedantics]

Pt 4: One Sided Rivalry - Mark Grayson x Reader

Pt 3 here

"Y/N? You're here? Oh my god, where've you been, everything okay?" A surprised Mark Grayson asked in his doorframe.

"You quit your job." You said, eyes flitting over the paint on the walls. Anywhere but him. "Would've been nice to know before I went in looking for you. Boss didn't like hearing your name much."

"Heh yeah, I haven't gone in for a while. But I told you. Don't you remember?"

You hummed. Cause no, you didn't remember.

"Well, uh ... come in! Come in," he stepped aside, opening the door wider. "Did something happen?"

"No. No ... just," you trailed off, taking in his house as he led you up the stairs to his room.

You'd never been to his house before. Never wanted to. Never thought you would.

He lived pretty nicely.

"Checking up on you."

He stared at you. "Ch-checking up?"

You shrugged, gut churning. This felt weird. Why were you here? Couldn't this have waited till the weekend was over?

"I uh ... learned that guy William's name. He's um ... he cares about you."

God this was so awkward, why did you come here?

This is why Markus always did the talking.

Mark smiled closing the bedroom door as you entered. "What do you mean 'learned his name?' We've known him forever?"

"You have ...." You muttered to yourself.

Then turned to face him now.

He looked fine. No bruises or tired eyes. Just dressed in his nerdy little pajamas. Like you knew he'd be the type to own.

How late was it again?

A silence fell over you. Heavy and noticeable. Unlike anything you remembered over the years.

The room felt dark and constricting.

You should just go and forget all about everything you and William had talked about.

So what if Markus stayed glued to your hip without interacting normally. He was fine with it before. He'd be fine with it now.

"You ... haven't been to school in a while, haven't answered my calls. What's going on with you."

You picked a loose thread on your sleeve. "Been home ... just ... y'know. Doing normal things."

He nodded.

Why's that clock so loud.

"Where are your parents?"

"On a date." He said, faking a gag with that goofy little grin.

The gap from when you had knocked his teeth out in the past had gone, grown into his permanent smile now. A lot of the baby fat in his cheeks molded in shape to make way for a more mature look.

He was different.

But that same kid from before had already melted his way to the core parts of your mind.

He was just ... Markus.

"William said you got a girlfriend."

His cheeks turned red and he held a hand to his face. "Damn it, I wanted to tell you first."

You smiled in a way that you hoped was politely.

He fell quiet as he stared at you.

"That's not what I'm here about. I just ...."

"You're not mad?" He asked softly.

You gave him a look. "Why would I be?"

"Nothing! Nothing! I just meant ... uh ... nevermind. You want anything? Snack? A drink? I'll run down and get it for you."

His bed felt soft as you sat in it.

With a quiet decline to his offer, you fell quiet again. Clock ticking away like it didn't care about a thing. You wish you felt the same.

Mark swayed on his feet, looking around for anything distracting. "How's your hand?"

You held it up for him to see.

A hum. Then quiet.

God, why were you still here?

"I uh ... 'm not sure how dating works, how much I'll see you now. So ... I just ... when will you be free? So we can ... hang out," ugh, that felt weird on your tongue. "I don't wanna make an enemy of someone I haven't met."

"Yeah! Yeah, we can hang out! Anytime!" Mark was suddenly next to you on the bed. "And I've been wanting to introduce you to her from the beginning, you're my best friend and all, it'd be great to have you two together."

Those eyes held so much ... what is that? Joy? There was rarely a day he wasn't happy, was there? Rarely a day where it wasn't directed at you.

Your gut tumbled, chest heavy. He was always like this. And you really had been so awful to him. You felt ... guilty.

"I'm free ... Thursday, maybe? Yeah ... I should be .... As of now I am. You and I can head to that old park we used to go to and the mall's just along the way if that gets boring. I'd love to hang out with you! We ... haven't done that in a while ...."

Ow ... that normally sweet smile looked kind of ... sad.

"And Amber's great. She does a lot of that volunteer stuff you see in movies. So she always has something to do. Maybe we can go with her to something like that one day. We'll be helping people out, getting you two acquainted. It'll be fun!"

You tried to mimic his grin.

Maybe it wasn't convincing though. Cause then he got serious. Placing a hand on your shoulder and speaking gently.

"Hey, don't worry. Amber's gonna love you. And I promise I'll still make time for you. Always have, always will."

The pit in your body seemed to get deeper.

That wasn't what you were hoping to get from this.

He pulled you in close. Chin on your head, firm arms wrapped around you, hands warm as they rubbed your back. "Thanks for coming tonight. I was worried about you."

Not that again.

Your brows cinched. Was this normal? Was this the first step towards what William had told you to do?

You still hadn't told him anything.

Hadn't apologized.

But what good would "sorry" be if you didn't really know what caused your hate in the first place?

Your jaw was tight, voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Don't mention it."

[nikikeya]

My Highly Disjointed Ramblings About Jax and Jax Theories

JAX H. LECTER So someone over on Bluesky asked why everyone was forgiving/ignoring Jax cannibalism.

And my dude: Baby boi did not actually "eat" anybody.

We saw he just gnawed, shook, and tugged on Gangle.

He did not actually tear, or shred her. He did not swallow ever. It was all just play acting. Demented? Yes. But its a VIDEO GAME. Same with when he mauled Pax. He grabbed him, and shook him like a dog with a chew toy.

The only sounds were growling and screaming. No chewing. No swallowing. And Caine most likely just poofed the poor bedraggled NPC away in the end. Most damning evidence that Jax did not Ted Bundy his alt was Pomni's reaction tho: Pomni is a kind person, who is in no way demented. And I doubt she'd have been looking at him like this:

If he was actually sitting there ripping pieces off his twin.

So no, Jax is not a cannibal. He's a demented little hell spawn from the depths of Tartarus. (And I love that.) but he did NOT actually Hannibal Lecter anyone... ===========================

JAX.EXE

(The wtf moment that started it all. I love Jax's Toon Logic.) The only reason I even still entertain the Jax is an AI/NPC/Jax is Able theories at this point, is cause it does seem odd that while Caine's becoming more violent, and Bubble is getting raunchier than ever, Jax has seemingly suddenly become much more animalistic and emotional over all.

Also, sidenote: the Japanese distributer of GLITCH products recently put out keychains on their site, and I was kinda mind boggled about Jax's.

Everyone is holding their character items (the things they're most associated with.) So: Why is Jax holding Caine's hand? His character Item should be a KEY. (Technically Caine's should be Bubble or one of his eyes but... its still less weird then Jax.) Unless this is hinting that there's a stronger connection between Caine and Jax.

==================== RIBBUN

(These Idiots...) More than the Bunnydoll fans crashout, I am openly morning the loss of Jax and Gangle's toxic bromance. Like the 2nd most emotional scene for me was Jax worrying over Gangle picking Zooble over him at the beginning of the Stargazing adventure. I SCREAMED. SO. FECKING. LOUD. In every other episode these two were practically inseparable. And now here Gangle is off with Zooble, and Jax is alone, and so he turns to the only other option he had: Pomni** (Yeah, yeah you heard me: She's his rebound. I'm not sorry: Its true.) I am very very sad that the ONLY interaction we got with the Dynamic Duo was when Zooble SET GANGLE UP for taking the blame for the whole maid dress fiasco and then LET HIM CHASE HER AROUND... (I've ranted about how much this pissed me off earlier.) I do hope that Jax and Ganagle will get some time alone eventually to clear the air, cause I hate them just: Never interacting again ya know?

(also RIP Manic Mask, I will always miss your cuteness, and the fact that you made Gangle nearly as unhinged as Jax is now. XDD) ===================

JAXY BOY

Jax is a very immature, very conflicted character. He's a boy whose trying way too hard to be a man. He puts on shows of arrogance and apathy to hide the deeper more depressed parts of himself. He is deathly allergic to real emotions. He's built up a narrative that nothing is real, and nothing he does matters. And in that way he protects himself: both from the insanity of the circus, and the other cast members.

I don't think he was talking about Ragatha here really. Think this might have been a bit of projection about someone else. Who? Ribbit? Kaufmo? Jax's own mother? He's def got Mommy Issues, hell, he's got Mommy Volumes and a complete Encyclopedia Britannica. WARNING: Theory Suppose it turns out he was talking about his mom. Maybe she was the one who told him that everyday, and then ultimately abandoned him, leaving him with a quite possibly abusive father who instilled in him the need to "Stop being such a whiny a lil bitch, and man up." after hearing the kid cry for his mom for a week straight.

=====

Jax masculinity is something he's obviously gotten shit for, maybe cause of being scrawny or effeminate. I do not support the idea of him being Trans in either direction. (Mostly cause he's the only guy in the whole damn circus other then grandpa and the AIs. So back off please, its enough of a titty party without claiming him too.) but also cause I'm frankly sick of the fact that when anyone acts anywhere outside the gender norms, or tries too hard to act their gender, they're instantly labeled trans or wanna be trans. Like can we please CHILL?? Jax as stated by God aka Gooseworx is definitely a boy. A boy who has a clear dislike of women. So the thought of him secretly wanting to be one. after watching him crash out and look like he was five seconds from killing someone or abstracting just from being put in a dress. Yeah no... And again, before you talk about the hip sway or leg cross: Effeminate guys exists. GAY MEN exist. he doesn't need to be Trans or closet trans to act like that. ==== I really do hope we get a backstory on him and Ribbit. Somewhere maybe on Goose's twitter, there was talk that one of the episodes would be about when they all first entered the circus and how they changed. And if that's the case then hopefully we will get a full flashback of Jaxy and Bibby. (Maybe confirm the brother theory or Bunnyhop pairing.) anywho I probably will add more to this later, but I was up all night writing this. And the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak... I'll leave you with a meme I made.

meh it was funnier in my head. Ciao~!

[honeyhonest]

Here's another request~

But if it bothers you that I sent you more, I'll understand orz

A story about the first time Yuu and Fellow had sex. Was it good? Bad? Was there consent? Were they in love? And what about the first kiss? Did they have a room?

-Neo

"was there consent" you know me toooo well. honestly and truthfully I can imagine a thousand first-time scenarios for these two, it's all very dependent on the yuu. buuuuuuut... who am I to deny a little dubcon for this guy? it's always so deliciously in-character for such a scummy man

minors get blocked, 18+ interactions only

✧˖°. to fib

warnings: gn afab!reader (you/yours pronouns), reader is ADULT yuu, DUBCON (coercion, intimidation, stalking kinda) proceed with caution, penetrative sex, post-playful land, pussy/cunt/clit all used, "slut" and "whore" directed towards reader, creampie, fellow calls reader a virgin but it's not confirmed, vaguely dissociative, obviously evil sex blah blah, not proofread FUCK IT!!

characters: fellow

length: long wtf where did these words come from

It had really all felt like a bad dream.

Unlike the fire lotus ordeal in October, which had been the subject of many conversations between those who bore witness to the blazing inferno of flowers that spread through the appropriately-named city like a pandemic, like a plague, Playful Land had been...

...Well, it had been bad. But as if contained between the walls of the seabound vessel, the lingering fear you had felt that night had not burrowed beneath your skin, had not left a bitter taste on your tongue and in your throat. You had been combed through by overblot after overblot, balls of fire and winds of poison that had left marks visible on your body for all the world to see.

Not even the wood grain of Playful Land imprinted itself on your softened skin; it was truly as if nothing had ever taken root there in the first place.

The small group of classmates that had been with you, wrists bound in a line, until they went limp and hard and knocked together like the colorful blocks of a mobile in the wind, well, none of them wanted to talk about it.

"Weird," Ace, distinctly, had said, "Just weird."

Unlike the shriveled fire lotuses, the eternal penance and unpayable fine of Rollo Flamme's punishment, there was no place on the intricately detailed paper map of Professor Trein's classroom wall to put a pin in; Fleur City remained unchanged, its borders hardened by time and wars fought long before your tenure at Night Raven College, and with them, Rollo Flamme. Contained between the stone walls of the city that he lay prisoner of, you had, as Malleus Draconia had unnecessarily reassured you, nothing to fear of him.

There was a place, a date, and a name to what happened there. Azul still mumbled under his breath about the malady of breathing problems the ash of the fire lotuses and the stairs to the belltower had left him, though with no noticeable venom in his voice. Malleus still scoffed at that name, Flamme, the boy who thought he was fit to be God. Ruggie and Jamil still chuckled about things they feigned to with the others, Riddle and Epel still chatted fondly and exchanged nods for their bravery, even Grim had taken to grumbling about his empty stomach when reminded of the many breads and cheeses of Fleur City.

But Playful Land was not this. It was nothing more than what it had sold itself as: an illusion. A dream. A tear in the tablecloth of time and reality, where the crumbs of haughty boys and overconfident students of arcane academies fell through.

There, simply put, was nothing to talk about.

Not that anyone wanted to, anyhow.

It crossed your mind, once or twice, though you never spoke those pedantic thoughts: in one part, because of the uncomfortable nature of the memory; in another, because any reminder of how easily fooled the Night Raven College students were would set off a terrible argument about "who's fault it was", and you hadn't the energy nor interest for that, especially after having barely dragged yourself out of Diasomnia alive this past month.

Another overblot under your belt. How many more were you expected to take?

But, as Headmage Crowley had assured you, that was all in the past- STYX will keep a sharp eye on the school for blot accumulation, the necessary funds will be delegated to recovery and prevention programs, and, after all, the school year was almost complete.

The thought of three months of... nothing was as relieving as it was terrifying. No overblots, no attempted murders, no end-of-the-world, nothing but yourself, Grim, ghosts, and...

...No home.

Three months wasted sitting around your derelict dorm, kicking rocks and waiting for the Headmage to return, as if you were some loyal lapdog for him. You had no hopes of finding your own way back- you had spent these past few weeks of school pouring over every textbook, manual, encyclopedia, ancient tome, and web article you could get your hands on, with your dutiful friends at your side.

But not even Lilia could come up with any sort of spell, incantation, potion, door, portal, or person that might help you home, and so all you were given were the palms of empty hands.

Only a few more days until you were doomed to your dorm for months.

You almost felt grateful for the interscholastic Spelldrive tournament, which would be taking place over the weekend, as it gave you more than enough to keep you moving, on your feet, and out of your own mind.

Sage's Island is packed full of tourists, rivaling teams, TV crews, family members, and fans looking forward to the days of entertainment ahead. Vil and Neige superfans pour from both schools, expecting to catch a glimpse of their biases amongst the crowds. Spelldrive enthusiasts trade tall tales of Leona Kingscholar's athletic routine, hoping they might one day follow in his footsteps. Even the locals are enjoying the food kiosks and sidestreet spectacles. You had never seen the island so full of... well, everything. People, smells, magic, life, light, entertainment. Grim has been dragging you from stall to stall all day, draining you of the measly thirty thaumarks Crowley had allowed you for souvenirs on sandwiches and cheeses and kebabs and sausage and cakes and candies and pie, none of which you've gotten a single bite of yourself, though it's not as if you mind.

You figure that Grim should be spoiled a little before the school year ends. He'll get bored of your home cooking within a week.

Best not to worry about that now.

"I smell fish! Codfish!" he announces, tugging on your sleeve with such excitement you almost tumble into a few burly spelldrive players in blue uniforms- not that Grim notices, or cares.

"We only have five thaumarks left," you remind him. "The Headmage was very generous, but- don't you want to wait for popcorn or something when the game actually begins?"

Grim stops walking in the middle of the cobblestone to ponder on that, and you have to scoop him up to get him out of the way. You plop him down on a stack of empty mango crates in the alley behind an abandoned juice stall, the paper "CLOSED" sign indicating that its occupants had likely left to grab their seats in the stadium. You should also be doing that, but Grim...

"I dunnoooo..." he starts, crossing his little paws like a tiny businessman. "What if they don't have any fish at the game?"

You sigh, slumping against the wall. "I packed tuna in the bag,"

You can predict the disgusted groans and complaints of your friends (and of all the people sitting around you) at the strong smell of cat food. It's funny, and you almost smile.

"Hmmm... fiiine," Grim gives in. You almost get your hopes up, but before you can announce you should then go grab your seats-

"BUT! I want cotton candy, too."

And there it goes, your hope dropping lower than you blood sugar levels. "But- Grim, the special cotton candy stall is at the pier. That's a twenty minute walk from here- maybe more, considering all the foot traffic,"

There he goes, crossing his little cat paws again and pouting. Damn, he's good. You're trapped, and Grim knows it- you both don't want to disappoint him, and you don't want him to pitch a hungry temper-tantrum in the stadium.

But you had really, really good seat... Leona picked it for you himself.

"Hey, there you guys are!"

Your body reacts before your mind, and cold relief flushes the cortisol out of your system. You turn to the sound of your friends, both warm-faced and smiling. Deuce has a red splotch across his nose- sunburnt. Ace must've dragged him around as much as Grim has you.

"Hey, guys,"

"The first round is about to start," Deuce says. "Didn't you say you wanted to wish the team good luck before they head onto the field?"

You shrug. "Leona wanted me to, actually, but that's- um, I just need to make a quick run into town again, can you take Grim and save my seat?"

Ace and Deuce share a look, but it's more weary than suspicious.

"Grim forgot something, didn't he?" the former sighs. "You've gotta keep it together!"

Grim bristles. "HEY! I keep it together all the time!"

You throw yourself in between them before they can waste any more breath. "I'm just making a final snack run! I'll be back as soon as I can, just save the seats and don't wait on me,"

Ace rolls his eyes, but he's never one to deny you. Especially now, knowing that it'll be a long three months before you can see them again. Deuce, always one to entertain your whims, smiles and takes Grim's paw.

"We won't wait on you, then,"

"Just keep us updated, text us in case something happens," Ace grumbles.

You sigh. "Thank you both. Oh, and here- Grim's tuna,"

Deuce shoulders the bag, looking fabulously like a middle-aged mom on vacation. "See you there, Prefect!"

"See you,"

You don't wait for them to start; you only have so much time to bus back to school, and the cotton candy stand with the disgusting tuna-flavored sugar that Grim worships is a commodity that can only be purchased at the piers. Damn it, shouldn't have spoiled him... You wouldn't be in this mess if you were capable of saying "no".

The crowds are tight for only a few minutes of walking (or, rather, shoving, pushing and pulling, being elbowed and stepped on), and then they begin to thin as more people head to the arena in Night Raven College to watch the first match. Which is both relieving and worrying- you're not so sure that some dickweed second-year won't take your seat before Ace, Deuce, and Grim can get there- the numbers on your tickets won't mean anything once you're actually inside.

The sun beats down on Foothill Town like no day before- you hadn't had a summer in Sage's Island yet, and a part of you is concerned that every day will be this hot and humid. Ramshackle has no air conditioning, after all, and the blinds are broken in most rooms.

You flick some sweat off your forehead with a swipe of your palm and keep walking, the cobblestone hard and unforgivingly hot under the thin soles of your borrowed shoes, your feet aching from how much legwork you've done today alone. You had made a promise with yourself to enjoy this weekend to the fullest, but so far, all it had been is hot, crowded, and noisy. And Grim's going to be farting up the bedroom tonight for certain.

Who even thinks of tuna-flavored cotton candy, anyway? You grimace at the thought of the smell.

The blinding sparkle of the blue sea catches your eye, and you follow that to the sound and smell of waves pushing against the white sand. The pier comes into distance, and you slip between the bars and pubs and fish markets, now somewhat unnerved by how quiet it is. There's an old man snoring in a chair on a porch, and then there are the warehouses and storage containers, and then the abandoned boats of the dock.

No cotton candy.

Damn it. They must've moved to get closer to campus. If you had gone with Ace and Deuce, you probably would've seen the damn thing...

You should text and tell them that it's not here. Grim'll pitch a fit, but there's nothing that can be done now. You make a grab for your tiny phone, and find nothing at your side but air.

Fuck. Your phone was in the bag you handed to Deuce.

You slump, defeated and sweaty and dead on your feet, against the closest surface, and then-

OW.

You yelp in pain- the tin walls are burning hot.

Whimpering in pain and cursing at your stroke of poor luck, you limp yourself into a shaded, dark alley between two buildings you can only assume are used to hold fish- based on the smell, at least. It's cool enough here, though, and you stand beside a stack of empty barrels while trying to find a will and motivation to walk back to school.

You're supposed to be having fun this weekend, but all you've felt is miserable- miserable that you're not going home, miserable that your little friends are leaving you, miserable that you shouldn't be so mad about both of those things, but you are.

No fun. No fun at all.

"Pardon, there, would you happen to have the time?"

For a second time today, you yelp like a puppy who's tail had been stepped on. Who the fuck-? You were alone just a second ago, but now there's a shadow in the morning sun at the mouth of the alley.

Embarrassed enough by your sweaty, sorry state and the pitiful sound you'd just made, you look away. "No, sorry, I... uh, my friends have my bag, so no phone. Sorry,"

"Ah. Well that's certainly a shame, I wouldn't want to miss the big game,"

You almost groan. "It's already started,"

The man, tall and too gaudily dressed for summer (you could certainly tell from the silhouette alone, who wears a three piece suit in this sort of heat?) walks further, which is, perhaps, the exact opposite of what you were hoping he'd do.

"What's got you so down, hm? Lost your ticket?"

Your focus stays on your feet, aching and sore from the half-hour of walking you had endured to come here. Should have said no...

"I'm... I'm just..." you hate how chatty the strangers here are. What does it matter to him? "Just catching my breath."

He hums, stopping beside you and sitting on one of the fish barrels without a single regard for the smell or the strange pinkish slime that seems to be splotched across them. "Hot day, isn't it?"

Great. Small talk. "Sure is,"

"Say," he says, the shadow of his face coming closer to yours, trying to catch your downturned eyes. "Have we met? You look awful familiar, but I can't place my finger on it..."

"I doubt that," you say. "I just have... one of those faces. I could be anyone."

"No, no! I'm certain we've met! I would never forget anyone so cute,"

A shiver shoots up your spine, and the shadow of a cloud passes over the alley. Time to go, you decide. Compliments from strangers have never preceded anything good.

"Well, I can't say, I've met a lot of people," you say, hurriedly pushing yourself off the wall. "My friends are waiting on me, though, so I should go."

You don't wait for a response, turning to the open mouth of the alley, away from the strange man, when you're suddenly yanked back by the neck of your shirt. The motion is so sudden and violent that when you choke, it's more out of surprise than it is out of the force that this man is holding you by. Your fear is set off by a flicker of orange, and you're suddenly face-to-face with someone you most certainly have met, and had hoped you never would again.

"It's wrong to fib. Didn't anyone ever teach you that?"

You swallow dryly, held by the scruff of your neck like a disobedient kitten by none other than the former manager of Playful Land, that place you never thought of, never spoke of.

"I-I don't-"

"Tch, come, now. I'm uneducated," Fellow says, using his free hand to tug on the tie of your uniform. "Not stupid. Just save the seats, don't wait on me!"

He trills in an unconvincing imitation of your voice, and then chuckles. You don't dare move, though he shoves you against the cold metal wall anyway.

"I don't have any money," you lie again, feeling the weight of those final five thaumarks in your pocket. What would the Headmage say if you told them they were stolen? Would he believe you?

Fellow rolls his eyes and lets go of your collar, dusting off his hands on his patchwork pants. "I don't want your money,"

He says that word with such disgust that you might have assumed, if you did not know him (or know him enough, in your case), that he really meant it. But he was so willing, so utterly gleeful in stripping away your personhood for a little extra in his paycheck before- what would he do for the five thaumarks in your pocket?

"Don't give me that look," he scowls. "I'm not going to kill you. Why would I? It's all water under the bridge, isn't it?"

You open your mouth, and nothing comes out.

"Besides, I could always tell you..." he gestures vaguely at your sorry state. "...Were a... special exception to the Night Raven College rule. What was it? Pity? Scholarship?"

He smiles, as if that were a funny thought, fixing your collar and smoothing over your shoulders with his dirty-gloved hands. "I just wanted to give you a scare, that's all. Maybe catch up? Laugh about old times?"

You don't say anything, but the suspicion and unease on your face is noticeable. Fellow grins.

"Were you hoping for something else? I've got time,"

You force something, anything, to fall out of your parted lips. "Th-the game,"

"The game?" he scowls. "You'll live, not seeing those pampered brats pretend to beat each other black and blue on sticks."

"But-"

"Shut up," he says, though softly, an odd choice of words if he was going for soothing. Fellow's eyes drift down your body, stiff and unfeeling, your feet frozen to the ground. He checks over his shoulder for a moment, and, deciding that there won't be any consequence for it, he grips the plush of your hip and squeezes. A strangled gasp comes from your throat, startled, not aroused, though he likes it anyway.

"Missed me?" he teases, retracting his hand if only to force you against the wall again, his fingers dancing up your side. "You know, of all those fat-faced school brats, I always found you the most..."

Fellow pauses, as if carefully picking his words.

"...Fuckable. Though that's not a very gentlemanly thing to say, is it?"

"...No," you manage.

"Cute, then," he says. "But I didn't touch you, didn't see the point in risking my paycheck for pussy- I could've done that with any town whore, anyhow. Though, that was then."

You look to the side, as if pretending to yourself that there's a way out of this. You should make some effort, at least. Then you can say you fought back and won't be so mad at yourself about it later.

"And what luck that it was you I ran into here, hm? I dare say fate is rewarding me for good behavior," Fellow smile, tapping the tip of your nose. "Maybe you, too. I bet those private school pricks don't know how to treat someone like you, hm?"

"...It's not like that," there's your voice, at least.

Fellow rolls his eyes. "Oh, sure it is. They're teenage boys- I was once one myself, believe it or not- if they're not already thinking about sticking their dicks in, they will be. Unless they're as blind as they are oblivious,"

He pinches the fat of your hip between his fingers again, laughing and leering over you.

"It doesn't take a genius to see that you were made to take cock,"

"Uh-? But I-"

"I'd be surprised if you haven't been passed around already. You know how teenage boys are,"

"N-no," you say, firmly enough for how your voice is trembling. "They're not... interested in me... in that way. Nothing's happened."

"Nothing's happened?" Fellow asks in a mocking tone, feigning shock with wide eyes and an O-shaped mouth, the look of innocence, before falling into a smirk. "Well, then- I was going to let you run off, but now that I know that, I think I should at least give you your first load before letting you go back to that spoiled rich place."

Ah, fuck.

Your eyes widen. "Um- I- I..." where are you going with this? "...Is that really how you speak to strangers?"

"No, just you,"

"...Right," you mutter. "M-maybe we should... talk about this, first-"

Fellow scoffs, though he's smiling, as if your complaints are funny to him. He presses you firmly against the wall of the alley, forcing a knee between your thighs and reveling in the wince you respond with.

"What, you don't like me? Think I'm diseased?"

You look away. "...No,"

"Well, you'd be right to worry," he mutters. "Come on, honey. Do I really look like a bad guy to you?"

You make a face at him, and he laughs.

"Oh, don't tell me you're still upset about that thing? That was months ago! I've reformed, changed! I'm an honest man now!"

"...You don't expect me to believe that-"

"I expect you to stop talking so much," he mutters, stopping his incessant petting of your side to pinch your cheek, and then squish your face between his hands. "You're too damn cute for those lazy pricks. It's a shame they haven't been using you the way you ought to be- though, I'm glad they haven't. Does that make me selfish?"

He knows the answer to that. It's hidden in his smirk, snarky though more sincere than before. He's enjoying himself, pinching and squeezing you and groping you like a stress ball.

"Just relax. It'll be over before you know it,"

Not promising, though you know he's not exactly concerned with your personal pleasure. You might as well be a porno mag or the warm touch of his palm, nothing more than something to entertain himself with.

It made you sort of dizzy, though you couldn't pinpoint exactly where that was coming from.

"...I can't keep them waiting," you murmur in a gentle admission of defeat. Fellow smiles, his fangs digging into his lower lip.

"That's alright, sweetie, that's alright," he coos. "We won't keep them waiting, will we? We'll be nice and quick."

His hand rests on the back of your head, cradling you- no holding you in a firm touch, his fingers squeezing around your neck, digging into the soft flesh as his lips press against yours. The kiss is not as brutish or bruising as you were anticipating. It is, rather, gentle, dozens of kisses peppered onto your waiting lips, pressed softly and quickly, though despite their delicacy each feels distinctly like he's stealing something away from you- your breath, your resistance, your sense of time. It's only when you've melted a little, become docile and small in his hands, does his forceful, unforgiving side return, his tongue filling your mouth and demanding yours in return. Everything to do with this man is an exchange. A kiss for a grope, a favor for a service, an eye for an eye. He forces your body closer to his with his free hand, digging into your hip and pressing you into the apex of his thigh, making you grind on him. It feels good, despite your better wishes not to enjoy this as much as Fellow is.

He pulls away, leaving the bitter taste of metal and the sting of last night's alcohol on your bitten lips, if only to use both hands in his pursuit of getting you wet enough not to tear anything. He's gentlemanly enough in that regard, you think, giving him an encouraging moan (why?) when he gently bounces his thigh under the beguiling movement of your hips.

"That's it... that's it..." he mutters, his body curved around yours in a certainly uncomfortable manner, shielding you from the world outside of his shoulders and chest. "You weren't lying, huh? They really don't fuck you at that school. You're so desperate for it, you're practically easy... taking it from a stranger... I bet your buddies would pay to see that, eh?"

"Don't want to think about them," you murmur into his shoulder.

He laughs. "Oh, but it'd be funny, wouldn't it? They'd be wide-eyed and slack-jawed, watching their cute little class crush moaning against a strange man's shoulder like a needy whore," his fingers dig deep into your hips and he forces you further onto him, the unforgiving friction sending a jolt of sensitivity through your clit. You yelp. He grins into your hair.

"I've fantasized about fucking you in that shitty control room for months. What I wouldn't have given to go back to that moment and bent you over the control panel. Would've put load after load in you- fuck,"

He stops himself, a strangled whine escaping his throat as you slide further down his thigh and push against his crotch.

"Ugh," he gasps. "Your pants, off."

It's amazing what the simplest of touches will do to him. If you were braver, and bigger, maybe you could have challenged the weak thread of authority he was clinging to- how easily it snapped the second you touched him, even if by accident. You almost wonder what else you could break in him, but that's a subject you're better off not worrying about now.

You peel off your pants, practically drenched in sweat and damp with wetness around the crotch (how you hate your excitable body) and let them crumple on the dirty gravel. Fellow wastes no time nor breath, forcing a hand between your legs to cup you through your underwear, feeling the heat coming off of you.

"Slut," he says, though it sounds more like an observation than an insult. As if he were talking about the weather.

He doesn't ask you to undress him, like some men would. He's perfectly happy with keeping his own pockets, empty as they are, far from your wandering eyes and prying hands. You almost don't want to look when he works out his cock, already erect and leaking to a comically lewd degree (and he called you the easy one...)

"It's rude to stare," he teases, even though his weak, breathy voice.

Fellow lifts one of your thighs as high as it will go, around his hip, forcing you to lean against the tin wall behind you with some difficulty. He doesn't feel the need to warn you when he's about to sink in, and so one moment you're thinking about the smell of metal lingering on your clothes, and the next you can't think of anything but the distinct sensation of something pushing between the walls of your cunt. It nearly knocks the wind out of you, though, all things considered, it's rather underwhelming. There's only the feeling of pressure in your lower stomach, and the trembling of Fellow's body beneath yours.

"Oh, f-fuck..." he mumbles, obviously having the time of his life. "Ah... fuck, damn it, shit..."

Is that how he's going to talk the whole time? Though you dare not speak; you're not sure you even could if you tried.

"...I knew it," he finally mutters, forcing more and more of his cock inside, or, rather, forcing you to take more by the firm grip he has on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

"You were made for this."

Some awkward, strange moaning noise comes from your throat, and he laughs, though his own voice is breathy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum. Hold still," he demands, keeping you in place until he's calmed himself down enough to start thrusting, though, again, weakly and shallowly, little movements of apathetic effort, or of barely constrained lust, you can't decide.

The tiny thrusts are enough to send shockwaves of arousal up your body- you had forgotten the simple feeling of pleasure, of lust, you had been trapped in this world and this tired, emaciated body for so long. When was the last time you truly had a moment to yourself? You were always with someone, misunderstood and mistreated by the people of this world, surrounded by their smiling faces and soft hands that never quite touched you, that never felt your body as if you were a person with weight.

There was something, then, gratifying about this encounter; disgusting as he was, and as shameful as you felt, Fellow Honest did not see you as some untouchable artifact, some ugly, divine thing. You were as human as he was, as fucked up and weak and poor, as desirable as any normal person should be. Not a ghost, not a beast, not a thing, not an alien, not an angel, just a lonely, disgusting little animal who needed to be fucked like one. Deserved it, maybe. Miserable little thing you were.

Maybe you liked the attention. Maybe you liked the thought of existing outside of Night Raven College, if only for a few minutes of unprotected sex with a dangerous stranger in an alley, clit sensitive and swollen but receiving no attention as his cock twitches inside you. It's almost summer. You're not sure if you'll even exist in a few months, when school has returned, but you exist now; perhaps more than you had before.

Playful Land had felt like a fever dream; but right now, being fucked by its former manager, is the most awake you've felt in months.

In a disgusting, vulnerable, human sort of way, like an open wound.

"Fucking- mm, fuck, I'm- you want to take my load, don't you?" Fellow mutters, fangs grazing against your shoulder, threatening to sink in. "You're gonna be a good whore and let me fuck my cum into you?"

You nod, not thinking twice about it- it feels as natural as the breeze coming from the sea some ways west.

"Good, fuck, you're so good-" he stiffens, legs shaking, shoving you hard against the wall again to take some of your weight off of his own body. You can only vaguely register the warm feeling of cum filling you, or at least the feeling of it dripping out, gravity at work.

Fellow pulls away after a moment, panting weakly, though there's that smirk on him again.

"You're a doll," he mutters, wiping tears you hadn't realized you'd cried off your cheek. "What'd I do to deserve such good treatment, hm?"

Nothing. You shrug, tired despite not having cum. You don't really feel like seeing the game anymore- nothing sounds more appealing than a good nap, except for maybe sitting on Fellow's face for a few hours.

"Mmmhm," he mutters, snapping your underwear back into place when he pulls out, the red lines of friction indented in your skin where it had been forced to the side. "I haven't had virgin pussy in..."

He pauses, stuffing his limp dick back in his pants.

"...Well, ever, I suppose. A man could get used to that."

Fellow offers you your pants back, pointlessly brushing some gravel off of the front. You don't want to go through the trouble of redressing yourself, but you do. Not like you have a choice. And you couldn't say no to him, anyhow.

"Done now?" you finally ask, watching Fellow zip up his pants. He shrugs.

"Guess so. Thanks for the pick-me-up, sweetie,"

You grimace, something gross settling in the pit of your stomach as he heads for the mouth of the alley. Off to become another dream, another memory you don't speak of, a pinless location on a map.

"Wait,"

Fellow stops, turning over his shoulder, his eyebrows arched in apathetic half-curiosity, his ears perked up.

You hesitate, open your mouth, hesitate again, and-

"Do you... need a place to stay, for a few months?"

[reveriederayne]

𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ?

Remus Lupin x Reader; 1.170 words

A/N: so a lot of the fandom likes to think of Remus as this Casanova of Hogwarts that gets everyone but also deeply hates himself and thinks he can’t have anything good. Good characterisation, not my cup of tea, so here’s how I like to imagine his character. Also as someone who appeared as if I hated people because of my previous introverted nature this was a fun idea to write.

CW: Reader appearing as mean; Remus’s pov (point of view); Reader is friends with Barty; Reader and Barty are in Ravenclaw; let me know if I need to add anything else !

There was one constant emotion on Remus’s mind, through all of his life as far as he could remember, and that was anxiety. How could it not be when he became a werewolf every full moon and thus a danger to everyone around him ? Not only that but he could put himself in danger if anyone were to ever find out about his problem, especially when he became a student there and he had friends for the first time. His anxiety probably doubled with that, tripled when they started getting suspicious of him.

But that was all in the past. That was kid Remus, and he finally grew up, his priorities as well. What was he getting anxious about now ? Is that the only girl he seemed to like appeared to be feeling the exact opposite for him. Remus was not the most sought after guy in his friend group, with his quiet nature and his numerous scar that decorated his face that made people a bit wary of him, but still, people weren’t out right mean to him. Which is why you almost completely ignoring him, and sending him glares, when you two were assigned to do a project along his three other friends made him loose his head, trying to figure out what did he ever do for you to hate him this much.

“I just don’t understand what happened ! Did I do something to her in our previous years and don’t remember ?” He was pacing in his dorm, clutching his head so hard the other three boys were afraid he would rip off his hair.

“Maybe she’s just shy. Don’t beat yourself up mate” Said James reassuringly.

“Shy ! With the glares she was sending me ?!”

James threw a look to Petter, both boys sighing at the sight of their friend. Sirius didn’t even bother paying that much attention, knowing that any attempt of comforting him would be like talking to a very panicked and deaf baby deer, instead comfortably laying in his bed and drawing. “You should talk to Junior then. He knows her like the back of his hand, will probably know what you did to her”

At that Remus stopped, letting his hands fall (surprisingly without his hair) down to his sides to questioningly stare at Sirius “Crouch ? The crazy Ravenclaw guy in our year ?”

“Yeah. Their families are close, unlikely friendship sparked, same house, yada yada… Go talk to him” He waved his wand at the door, opening it successfully. The scared boy took it as a sign that he was meant to investigate now and promptly left the dorm, and as a precaution Sirius closed, lest his friend decided to come back.

Remus had one advantage when it came to his anxiety, and it was that he could easily mask it, or at least he didn’t need to try very hard to subdue it. What guy full of scars and taller than everyone else would appear on the verge of anxiety attack when asking if he could talk to a guy along while pulling the most bitch face man kind has ever known ?

Barty almost look scared if it wasn’t for the gigantic smile adorning his face as he was left with Remus alone in the corridor. He leaned against the wall, getting comfortable for whatever discussion the Gryffindor was gonna put him through.

“Lupin ! What do I owe the displeasure ?”

He stayed quiet for a while, not really knowing how to interact with the boy in front of him. He never talked to him prior, barely saw him due to different friend groups, and weird rumours about him didn’t help gain the confidence for a talk.

“You’re… I heard you’re friends with-“

“Yes yes, we’re friends. What about it ?” he interrupted, letting out a sigh as if talking to him was already exhausting enough.

“What did I do for her to hate me ?” He let out, surprising himself at how quickly he got to the point. Though considering he was talking about his crush that seemed to not stand him, understandable.

He also surprised Barty, who looked at him like he just said complete gibberish and not actual words. He put his hands on the taller boy’s shoulder, bringing him down and effectively bringing him on the same eye level.

“Are you… are you blind Lupin ? Do you need glasses ? Or maybe you need therapy ?”

He did need it, but not for what he just said, he was sure of it. “What ? She clearly hates me. She completely ignored me during our group project”

The raven haired boy slowly blinked, before letting him go, looking at the ground like a concerned mother. “Just… just talk to her. God, you’re insufferable” And then he just walked away, no further explanation, which left Remus even more confused. Why would you ignore him then if you didn’t hate him, even sending weird looks every time he tried to talk to you ?

Well he went to you next for his answers. Which caused even more anxiety. Truly Remus would need a week of doing nothing to prevent grey hairs from growing by the time he’s twenty for the stressful day he was having.

Thankfully he decided to talk to you when you were alone in the library, his sacred little place, that he thought would maybe give him a bit more confidence. It wasn’t the case, but a man could dream. Instead much like Barty he blabbered and then asked not so subtly why you hated him.

“Pardon me ?”

You looked like a lost kitten. Confused and unsure if you should even be here. It made you look cute to him. Though probably not the best thing to think in this situation.

“Just because I don’t pay attention to you and your loud friends doesn’t mean I hate you. You’re not the center of the universe Lupin”

Now it would look like you disliked him to anyone else. But Remus saw how you dicked your head, how your cheeks were taking a darker shade and how nervously you jit your lip.

Tentatively, he ducked his head as well, whispering in your ear. “Can I assume that you… fancy me then ?”

He almost regretted asking that. You were practically stranger, you didn’t show him any signs of liking him, and he was now going to ruin this entire relationship before it even started and then-

“Yeah… I just didn’t know how to process it. People are not my strong suit”

“Oh” Well that changed everything…

“Oh. Well it’s okay. They’re not mine either…” He nervously looked down at you. You didn’t seem anxious or nervous like he was. Just a bit confused. He liked it. He really like it, and you, especially you.

“I know a place where there isn’t much people where we can do… whatever couples do ?

And there was a smile. A cute little smile that made his heart beat a thousand miles with the feeling that it could jump out of his chest.

© reveriederayne; every work posted on this blog is my own. I do not give anyone permission to copy, translate, or repost my works anywhere under any circumstance.

[snowangelnoelle]

was thinking back on the second round of spamton sweepstakes pages that came out shortly before the new chapters released and there were the /chapter1 through /chapter5 pages, which people originally guessed were connected to whether the chapter was relevant for the snowgrave/weird route and now that chapters three and four are out that definitely seems correct. (spoilers)

chapter one's page says "not applicable": you can't do anything related to snowgrave in this chapter.

chapter two's says "applicable": this is like. the biggest chapter for snowgrave. it's where you cast snowgrave and start everything.

chapter three's says "not applicable" however i think (can't double check as i'm on mobile) if you hold the right arrow it will add "but...": you can't do anything *directly* related to snowgrave BUT there is the sword route (the way you get the shadow mantle - through playing the 'original' version of tenna's video game in the S rank changing room) which heavily references snowgrave and involves "becoming stronger" including by killing the video game versions of susie and ralsei and then using a white robed mage to freeze enemies.

chapter four's is blank but links onto a couple more pages through which people found the deltarune.com/chapter4/thankyou page which used to say "how long did it take her to smile?" with two input boxes, one for an email and one for an answer (if you put nothing on the second box it would say "she never smiled?"). now the option to input anything is closed so it just says "thank you.": this doesn't clearly tell us anything about snowgrave, but..

chapter five's page shows the numbers 2, 4, and 5, with blank spaces for 1 and 3, and the 2 is very large, the 4 is smaller, and the 5 is a bit bigger than the 4: so 1 and 3 aren't applicable, 2 is and is the biggest, and based on this we can guess the four and five are applicable as well. chapter four has a scene which is very important for snowgrave and requires re-equipping the thorn ring to noelle in the light world. so important for the route to continue, but there's not a ton of difference in the rest of the story. but the 5 is bigger than the 4, so chapter five will probably have more that changes with the snowgrave route. that makes sense since chapter five will be on the day of the festival which everyone is meant to be going to so will involve interacting with noelle, and in the snowgrave route carol even calls to tell you that noelle is 'excited' to go with you which causes kris distress and doesn't happen in the normal route.

[piierogis]

they are everything to me

[asexualjedi]

We really mass hallucinated and almost made Codywan canon huh. I was here back when it was just a rare crack ship idk what happened but like it’s so crazy what almost happened in the obiwan show. How the fuck did we hallucinate that close to the sun god bless never let your dreams stay dreams.

[riacte]

being a fan of false/ren/both atm is kinda weird and surreal in these times because you have to carefully tread around in your mind to avoid thinking about upsetting things (which consist of like 50% of the total stuff in your head) and you have to rewire your longtime neural pathways but it’s necessary and doable lol

[roots-symphony]

do you think the reason agatha’s trial felt weird is because she was the only one who did not actually buy into the mythos of the road since she knew the truth? like that was why no perspective change and all the other reasons why people thought it was a fake trial

[ganondoodle]

i often really do feel like an .. unwanted part of the fandom, i dont draw beautiful landscapes, i have unpopular but strong opinions im constantly annoying about and rarely change, dont like/dont draw the pretty young popular twinks and hot gurls to fanboi over nor do i turn characters into one, the opposite moreso, draw only one ship no ones heard of really, got little energy to interact with the few people that are nice to me and send me asks so it probably looks like im ignoring everyone and unfortunately but still rarely get so stressed i get overwhelmed and emotional about pehaps seemingly minor things and spiral almost into a breakdown feeling super embarrassed about it afterwards but the damage is already done and i look like a freak or agressive weirdo

[dafpork]

sometimes i remember some people’s only frame of reference for Daffy and Porky is in modern stuff like TLTS and nothing strikes fear into my heart more. like do people out there only think one cares about the other.. do people think Daffy hates Porky..,,,, watch the originals and see the light. i need to like make a manifesto or something or find a way to be like They Are Good And I Am Tired Of This Being Slept on.

let this into your heart

[oheboi]

Satan as the Allegory of Astrology by Lorenzo Greuter

i have decided I will just post whatever, like I did on my old art account. woe 🫳 gay satan be upon ye

[yellow-dejavu]

[haarute]

it's amazing how almost all of my friendships (and by almost all i mean Every save like three) are ruined by my own self essentially swerving into a wall and crashing on purpose due to my inability to believe my company could ever be even slightly desirable to anyone and i'd rather just burn it all and die than see myself as someone who intrudes and abuses people's kindness out of my own selfish desire to want companionship.