#Electrical Project Topics

[takeoffproject]

Build Your Project for Electrical with Takeoff Projects

By having electrical engineers and well-trained administrative staff, Takeoff Projects can establish your electrical projects from the ground up. To guide you towards the right electrical project ideas to develop and implement the project for you we offer end-to-end services. We can design and construct an electrical project starting from its basic step or also clear your doubts and queries and start your current project on the path to its completion as per the deadline provided.

Our team of experts at Takeoff Projects has already assisted thousands of students in working on Projects For Electricalengineering for years now and we are also here to assist you. You can come to us with an idea of an electrical project that you have in mind or you can check out our portfolio for ideas.

The purpose of this project is to explain power quality that exists in the AC system and has emerged as a major issue because there has been a rapidly growing adoption of inductive loads, and electronic equipment (Linear and Nonlinear load). An undefined portion of the electrical energy daily because of the low power factor in the inductive loads that you use in the system. Therefore, the situation calls for an urgent need in order to avoid this waste of energy, poor power factor, and reactive power

Which leads to low quality, reliability, and safety issues coupled with high energy consumption. Any power system factor is constantly fluctuating because of variations in the quantity and the number of equipment that is being used at a given period. Difficult to always ensure proper load sharing between inductive and capacitive loads. Control methods for the Power Factor Correction (PFC) were born. The paper proposes an efficiently computable method of designing and catering to the need for the development of a single-phase as well as three-phase power factor.

[rainydetectiveglitter]

Your Midheaven Brand Identity:

A Guide to Boosting Your Social Media Presence

When it comes to building a strong brand identity, your Midheaven (MC) sign can offer invaluable insights. This astrological point reflects your career, public image, and how you’re perceived by the world. While many focus on their Rising sign to guide their personal brand, the Midheaven is actually more influential in shaping how you're perceived professionally. Also, consider how this relates to your IC for a more rounded approach.

Midheaven in Capricorn (Aries Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should project authority, reliability, and professionalism. You’re seen as a goal-oriented and disciplined figure. Highlight your achievements, strategic thinking, and leadership skills.

Social Media Tips: Focus on structured content such as detailed guides, case studies, and professional milestones. Use a polished, business-like tone. Incorporate posts that reflect your strategic planning and long-term vision. Share behind-the-scenes looks at your projects to show the effort and planning involved.

Brand Colors: Deep green symbolizes growth and stability, gray for professionalism, and navy blue for authority and trustworthiness.

IC Connection: Leverage Cancer's emotional depth and nurturing qualities to soften the Capricorn edge. Share personal stories that reveal your emotional investments and how they drive your professional goals. This adds a relatable human element to your otherwise authoritative presence.

Ambitious and Professional: Emphasize your leadership skills and career-driven mindset.

Structured and Goal-Oriented: Showcase your strategic approach to achieving success.

Public Image: Present yourself as competent, disciplined, and reliable.

Social Media Tips:

Share content that highlights your achievements, career milestones, and strategic insights.

Use strong, authoritative visuals and a professional tone.

Midheaven in Aquarius (Taurus Rising)

Brand Identity: Your brand should emphasize innovation, originality, and a forward-thinking mindset. Showcase your unique perspective and contributions to progressive ideas.

Social Media Tips: Create content that reflects cutting-edge trends, technological advancements, or visionary concepts. Use engaging formats like interactive posts, futuristic graphics, and thought-provoking discussions. Position yourself as a leader in new ideas and unconventional solutions.

Brand Colors: Electric blue represents innovation, silver for technology, and neon green for modernity.

IC Connection: Infuse your Leo charisma into your Aquarius content to make it more engaging and personal. Share your passionate insights on future trends and show how your creativity shapes your forward-thinking approach. This blend enhances your appeal and relatability.

Stability and Luxury: Focus on high-quality, luxurious content and the practical aspects of your field.

Innovative and Unique: Bring a fresh, unique perspective to traditional topics.

Aesthetic Appeal: Use rich, earthy colors and visuals to create a soothing, attractive profile.

Social Media Tips:

Share content related to comfort, luxury, and tangible results.

Use high-quality images and engaging, thoughtful posts.

Midheaven in Pisces (Gemini Rising)

Brand Identity: You are seen as empathetic, artistic, and intuitive. Your brand should be focused on creativity, emotional connection, and spiritual or philosophical insights.

Social Media Tips: Use your platform to share evocative stories, inspirational content, and artistic expressions. Emphasize emotional resonance and creativity in your posts. Engage your audience with reflective and soulful content, such as personal journeys or meditative practices.

Brand Colors: Soft pastels evoke calm and creativity, sea green for emotional depth, and lavender for spirituality.

IC Connection: Incorporate Virgo's analytical skills to add depth and clarity to your Piscean content. Provide well-researched insights and practical advice wrapped in a creative or emotional narrative. This combination balances creativity with substance, appealing to a broad audience.

Versatile and Communicative: Showcase your adaptability and ability to handle a variety of topics.

Inspirational and Imaginative: Focus on creative and philosophical insights.

Intellectual Engagement: Share informative and engaging content that stimulates thought.

Social Media Tips:

Use diverse content formats, such as articles, videos, and infographics.

Share posts that combine creativity with intellectual depth.

Midheaven in Aries (Cancer Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be dynamic, confident, and pioneering. Emphasize your leadership abilities and proactive approach.

Social Media Tips: Share bold, decisive content and take a stand on relevant issues. Use energetic visuals and assertive language to engage your audience. Highlight your initiatives, new projects, and leadership moments to convey authority and drive.

Brand Colors: Bright red for passion and leadership, orange for enthusiasm, and black for strength and sophistication.

IC Connection: Balance Aries’ assertiveness with Libra’s charm and diplomacy. Engage with your audience in a way that is both bold and approachable, showing your leadership qualities while maintaining a sense of fairness and balance.

Dynamic and Courageous: Emphasize your proactive and pioneering approach.

Balanced and Harmonious: Highlight your ability to bring harmony to challenging situations.

Community Focus: Showcase your role in fostering positive change and leadership.

Social Media Tips:

Share bold, action-oriented content that reflects your leadership and dynamic nature.

Use harmonious and engaging visuals that balance professional and personal elements.

Midheaven in Taurus (Leo Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should reflect stability, practicality, and an appreciation for quality. Focus on your reliable and steady approach to success.

Social Media Tips: Share content that highlights your achievements, high standards, and practical advice. Showcase luxurious or high-quality aspects of your work or lifestyle. Use a consistent, polished visual style to emphasize reliability.

Brand Colors: Earthy tones for stability, gold for luxury, and deep green for growth.

IC Connection: Integrate Scorpio’s intensity and depth into your Taurus-centric content. Share powerful personal experiences and transformative moments that underline your commitment to quality and reliability. This adds a rich, emotional layer to your dependable image.

Creative and Charismatic: Showcase your artistic talents and strong presence.

Stability and Practicality: Focus on grounded, practical aspects of your creativity.

Transformational Experiences: Share stories of personal growth and resilience.

Social Media Tips:

Create visually striking content that highlights your creativity and achievements.

Use a combination of dramatic and practical elements to engage your audience.

Midheaven in Gemini (Virgo Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be adaptable, communicative, and intellectually curious. Highlight your versatility and wide-ranging interests.

Social Media Tips: Create diverse and engaging content, from informative articles to interactive posts. Showcase your quick thinking and adaptability by covering a range of topics and trends. Use engaging formats like quizzes, debates, and live interactions to connect with your audience.

Brand Colors: Bright yellow for creativity, turquoise for communication, and light gray for neutrality.

IC Connection: Blend Sagittarius’ enthusiasm and philosophical insights with Gemini’s adaptability. Share your adventurous experiences and broad interests in a way that stimulates curiosity and engagement among your followers.

Analytical and Knowledgeable: Emphasize your expertise and practical solutions.

Versatile and Communicative: Highlight your ability to adapt and share diverse insights.

Movement and Learning: Incorporate elements related to continuous learning and exploration.

Social Media Tips:

Share detailed, informative content that offers practical value and insight.

Use a clear, organized visual style with engaging, versatile formats.

Midheaven in Cancer (Libra Rising)

Brand Identity: Your brand should be nurturing, empathetic, and community-focused. Emphasize your caring approach and ability to create supportive environments.

Social Media Tips: Share content that highlights your commitment to community and emotional well-being. Use personal stories, testimonials, and supportive messages to build a sense of belonging. Engage with your audience through compassionate and encouraging interactions.

Brand Colors: Soft blues for calm and trust, warm whites for purity and care, and sea green for emotional balance.

IC Connection: Incorporate Capricorn’s professionalism and structure into your Cancer-centric content. Present your nurturing approach in a way that also highlights your organizational skills and strategic thinking. This creates a well-rounded and credible public persona.

Balanced and Nurturing: Focus on creating harmony and providing support in your field.

Professional and Caring: Highlight your ability to blend professionalism with a caring approach.

Community and Relationships: Showcase your role in fostering connections and support.

Social Media Tips:

Post content that emphasizes balance, community, and supportive interactions.

Use elegant, harmonious visuals and empathetic messaging.

Midheaven in Leo (Scorpio Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be dramatic, charismatic, and authoritative. Emphasize your creative flair and leadership.

Social Media Tips: Share powerful, impactful content that showcases your expertise and creative achievements. Use bold visuals and compelling narratives to engage your audience. Position yourself as a leader and visionary in your field, using confident and inspiring messaging.

Brand Colors: Gold for leadership, royal purple for creativity, and bright red for passion.

IC Connection: Incorporate Aquarius’ innovative and unconventional ideas into your Leo-centric content. Highlight how your creative vision is informed by progressive thinking, adding a unique and forward-looking dimension to your leadership.

Intense and Impactful: Showcase your deep insights and transformative impact.

Creative and Bold: Highlight your innovative and charismatic approach.

Power and Influence: Emphasize your leadership and ability to inspire change.

Social Media Tips:

Share powerful, thought-provoking content that reflects your depth and creativity.

Use bold, dynamic visuals and impactful language.

Midheaven in Virgo (Sagittarius Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be detail-oriented, analytical, and practical. Focus on your ability to provide valuable, well-organized information.

Social Media Tips: Share well-researched content, practical tips, and detailed insights. Use a methodical approach to present information clearly and effectively. Highlight your expertise and problem-solving skills through structured posts and informative articles.

Brand Colors: Earthy tones for reliability, navy blue for professionalism, and muted green for practical growth.

IC Connection: Use Pisces’ creative and philosophical perspectives to add depth and richness to your Virgo-centric content. Combine practical advice with imaginative insights to engage your audience on both intellectual and emotional levels.

Adventurous and Insightful: Focus on exploration, learning, and philosophical insights.

Practical and Organized: Showcase your ability to apply your expansive ideas in practical ways.

Health and Movement: Incorporate elements related to well-being and personal growth.

Social Media Tips:

Create inspiring content that reflects your adventures and learning experiences.

Use clear, organized visuals and practical advice.

Midheaven in Libra (Capricorn Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be balanced, diplomatic, and aesthetically refined. Emphasize your ability to mediate and create harmonious environments.

Social Media Tips: Share content that reflects your sense of balance and aesthetics. Use a polished, graceful approach in your posts and interactions. Highlight your ability to bring people together and foster collaboration.

Brand Colors: Soft pink for harmony, light blue for balance, and neutral tones for sophistication.

IC Connection: Incorporate Aries’ boldness and assertiveness into your Libra-centric content. Show how your diplomatic approach is driven by strong convictions and proactive leadership, creating a balanced yet dynamic presence.

Ambitious and Balanced: Highlight your strategic approach and ability to create harmony in your field.

Professional and Diplomatic: Showcase your leadership and ability to handle complex situations with grace.

Success and Influence: Emphasize your achievements and your role in fostering professional relationships.

Social Media Tips:

Share content that highlights your career milestones, strategic insights, and professional network.

Use strong, balanced visuals and a professional tone.

Midheaven in Scorpio (Aquarius Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be intense, transformative, and powerful. Emphasize depth, passion, and your ability to handle complex issues.

Social Media Tips: Share content that delves into deep topics, transformative experiences, and impactful insights. Use powerful imagery and compelling narratives to engage your audience. Position yourself as an authority on complex or intense subjects.

Brand Colors: Deep reds for intensity, black for power, and rich purples for transformation.

IC Connection: Integrate Taurus’ steadiness and practicality into your Scorpio-centric content. Balance your intensity with reliable, grounded insights to provide a comprehensive and credible perspective.

Innovative and Transformative: Focus on cutting-edge ideas and profound impact.

Practical and Grounded: Highlight your ability to make innovative ideas practical and effective.

Personal Transformation: Share stories of growth and change.

Social Media Tips:

Post forward-thinking content and transformative ideas.

Use striking visuals and impactful, thought-provoking messaging.

Midheaven in Sagittarius (Pisces Rising)

Brand Identity: Your public persona should be adventurous, philosophical, and enthusiastic. Focus on your broad vision and love for exploration.

Social Media Tips: Share content that inspires and excites. Highlight your travels, philosophical insights, and adventurous pursuits. Use engaging formats like storytelling and exploration to connect with your audience.

Brand Colors: Vibrant oranges for enthusiasm, blues for expansiveness, and purples for creativity.

IC Connection: Use Gemini’s versatility and communication skills to enhance your Sagittarian content. Present your adventurous insights and philosophical reflections in an engaging, accessible way, appealing to a wide audience.

Creative and Visionary: Showcase your imaginative and expansive approach.

Exploration and Inspiration: Focus on your passion for discovering new ideas and inspiring others.

Versatility and Insight: Highlight your ability to communicate diverse insights and inspirations.

Social Media Tips:

Create content that reflects your creativity, exploration, and visionary ideas.

Use imaginative visuals and engaging, inspirational messaging. Alright! Now go and ...

[sirenontheloose]

RULE 17

Loving you in silence is still louder than anything else.

The restaurant was loud. Grills crackling, cocktails flowing, and Rosé flirting through the speakers with “drinks or coffee” like it was a first date, not a corporate dinner.

Y/N slid into her seat on the planning team’s side of the table. Across from her sat Manon from marketing, idly spinning a chopstick and looking entirely too relaxed for someone who had argued over ad copy just last Tuesday. The table was a mess of noise with both departments shouting over each other like they were still stuck in a group project from hell.

“This setup feels suspiciously strategic,” Megan said as she sat down beside Manon. “Like one of us is about to be voted off the island.”

“It’s literally just marketing against planning,” Y/N replied, gesturing across the table. “Sophia organized it.”

“Don’t blame me,” Sophia called from further down. “I just wanted to encourage collaboration. We’re celebrating, not starting a turf war.”

“You say that, but this feels like we’re about to play corporate dodgeball,” Daniela muttered.

“Team-building,” Manon grinned. “With extra carbs.”

Yoonchae leaned in from her side of the table. “Someone make a bingo card for who’s gonna cry first after two sojus.”

“My money’s on the intern,” Lara muttered, glancing at Gawon, who looked like she was mentally drafting her resignation letter in Google Docs.

Soon the grill was lit, drinks were passed down, and a few people had already taken their ties off. It wasn’t formal. It wasn’t quite casual either. Mostly it felt like everyone was pretending they hadn’t been up until 2 a.m. fixing a broken spreadsheet the night before launch.

Y/N was mid-rant about the campaign timeline when Daniela suddenly paused, frowning.

“Okay. Weird question,” she said, leaning back to peek under the table. “But who’s playing footsie with me right now?”

The table froze.

Megan choked on her water. Lara blinked slowly. Y/N looked up, feigning confusion.

Daniela pointed under the table. “No offense, but someone’s toes are getting real familiar and I did not sign up for this under-the-table courtship.”

Across from her, Manon yanked her foot back like she’d touched an electric fence.

“That’s… strange,” she said, too quickly.

Daniela narrowed her eyes. “You’re directly across from me.”

“Couldn’t be me. I’m emotionally distant from my lower half.”

“What?”

“I’m just saying. Could be anything. The table. The air. Life.”

“You were playing toe tag!”

“Allegedly,” Manon said flatly.

Y/N cleared her throat. “Maybe the table shifted. Weird spacing. These chairs are unstable.”

Daniela looked at her. “Are you seriously defending her?”

“I’m just saying,” Y/N said, already too defensive, “do any of us really know where our feet are? At any given moment? Existentially?”

The table went silent. Lara blinked. “Okay. What is in your drink?”

“And I don’t even believe in feet,” Manon added, spearing a piece of pork belly with terrifying calm.

Megan snorted. Lara looked like she wanted to be anywhere else.

Daniela sighed. "I’m putting pepper spray in my socks next time."

“I was just stretching,” Manon replied. “I’m very flexible.”

“Into my ankle?”

“It’s a dynamic environment.”

Yoonchae just sipped her drink, eyes wide with delight. “This is better than the reality show I was watching last night.”

The topic eventually moved on. Well kind of. Except now people were watching. Noticing how Y/N didn’t even ask before grabbing a lettuce wrap and Manon handed one over. Or how Y/N leaned in to reach the sauce and Manon instinctively pulled her sleeve back so it wouldn’t drag.

And then Y/N got a smear of red paste near her lip. She hadn’t noticed. But Manon did. So, without a word, she leaned across the table, napkin in hand, and casually wiped it away.

Silence.

Megan blinked. “Okay. So we’re just wiping each other’s mouths now.”

“She had sauce on her face,” Manon said, tone even.

“You didn’t even hesitate,” Daniela whispered.

“You want me to let her walk around like that?” Manon said. “Cruel.”

“Okay but like…” Megan turned to Y/N. “Have you two always been this, I don’t know”

“Efficient,” Y/N offered.

“Domestic,” Daniela said.

Lara blinked once. “You two dating or what?”

“Whoa,” Megan hissed. “Don’t make it weird.”

“I’m just asking. Feels fair at this point,” Lara shrugged.

“I literally just handed her a napkin,” Manon replied.

“And wiped her entire mouth,” Megan added.

“Because it was messy. I’m a good coworker.”

“Would you do that for me?” Lara asked.

Manon turned slowly, face scrunched like she just smelled expired milk.

“Do you want me to?”

Lara didn’t even blink. “I take that as a no.”

Yoonchae raised an eyebrow, smirking behind her glass. “Cold. That was so cold.”

Conversation drifted after that. Someone brought up a chaotic client call. Yoonchae mentioned her roommate accidentally fed their air fryer a fork while part of the planning team argued about who kept renaming their shared Spotify playlist to Deadline Panic Again.

But of course Megan circled back.

“So what’s everyone’s deal? Like romantically. Are we all just married to the job or…”

“Oh please,” Sophia said, waving her hand. “We all know office couples exist. Doesn’t matter what HR says. Ms. Jang and Ms. Yoo from Finance used to go to the bathroom together every day and come back with lipstick half gone and no explanation.”

“That’s oddly specific,” Y/N said.

“I have a sixth sense for this stuff,” Sophia bragged. “I always know when people are dating before they go public.”

Megan raised a brow. “Really?”

“Always.”

Yoonchae tilted her head. “Why are we acting like Rule 17 isn’t a thing?”

Lara frowned. “Rule what now?”

Yoonchae cleared her throat. “Rule 17. Employees within the same company are strictly prohibited from engaging in romantic relationships with one another. Violation of this policy may result in reassignment, HR review, or termination. This rule is designed to uphold professionalism and avoid workplace conflict or bias.”

Everyone turned to look at her.

“And why do you have that memorized?” Megan asked.

“I read the handbook,” Yoonchae replied. “Also it’s on a poster behind the water cooler. In bold. It kinda looks like a warning label.”

“It’s giving prison rules,” Megan muttered.

Sophia nodded, still on her earlier point. “But I always know. The little glances. The secret smiles. That one time a pair got caught sharing an umbrella even though it wasn’t raining. Give me a break.”

Yoonchae looked slowly at Manon, who was now absentmindedly nudging a bottle of water toward Y/N.

Sophia went on. “You can tell. They get all weird around each other. Nervous. Flustered. It’s obvious.”

Manon, perfectly calm. “Totally.”

Y/N, not even looking up. “Yeah. Real obvious.”

Sophia nodded. “Exactly, you get it.”

Manon blinked. “We really do.”

Y/N sighed. “We were just talking about that earlier. Like how people always jump to conclusions.”

Manon leaned back. “It’s exhausting.”

Lara stared at them. “This feels like gaslighting.”

Daniela didn’t even blink. “It absolutely is.”

Across the table, Manon offered Y/N the last piece of grilled meat.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. “Thanks, babe.”

Pause.

Silence.

Megan’s jaw dropped slightly.

Y/N blinked. “I mean… thanks, bro.”

Sophia, self-proclaimed human lie detector, raised her glass. “To professional partnerships and strictly platonic coworker bonding.”

Everyone clinked glasses.

Under the table, Manon bumped Y/N’s shoe.

Y/N nudged back.

And just like that, no one questioned it. 

But everyone would be whispering about it at work on Monday.

divider - @v6que

a/n - i'm obsessed with gl manhwas these days

[ghostbeam]

1.3k words Bakugou Katsuki x reader, aged up characters, Bakugou is an art student, a little angsty, he’s kind of a huge asshole in this at some point but he’s kind of just trying to get under reader’s skin, I’m so out of practice in writing him I hope it’s okay, set in the same universe as my charcoal artist!Dabi and oil painter!Tomura, sorry if this sucks and is pretentious

Bakugou’s studio is impeccable. 

Everything has a place. His tools are all lined up, hammers and chisels and rasps all hanging from nails stuck into a large board on a wall. Beneath them are three tool carts filled with various electric saws and files, all placed meticulously. Besides that is a hand truck, you assume for moving the bigger sculptures he works on. He has one corner of the room reserved for all of his statues and uncarved stones, the largest ones pushed towards the back. The smallest stones and sculptures sit on tables near by, all set—what you have to guess—an inch apart from one another. There’s a standing desk with shelves of art books and comics beneath it. The entire middle of the room is covered in a tarp that looks immaculate, like he’s never worked a day in his life on top of it, though you know that’s not true judging from the half finished giant stone sitting atop of the clean tarp, tools sitting on the last step of the stool he’s using to reach the top of the sculpture. It’s draws your eyes immediately upon walking in—the stone that looks as though something is crawling from inside of it. 

The last wall is covered in brown sketching paper, three rolls of it mounted on one side so that it can be stretched across the entirety of the wall. The paper is filled with a multitude of sketches and scribbles, notes scrawled across that you can barely read due to the obvious urgency they were written with. 

Being inside of his studio feels personal—intimate—like you’re taking a peak inside of his brain, but Bakugou doesn’t seem to mind. Tearing your eyes away from the giant in the middle of the room, you watch him bring an extra stool to the table he’s cleared for the two of you to work on. 

The project is simple. You’re both meant to agree on one artist with an emphasis on a single medium of theirs. Both a seven slide powerpoint and a six page essay are due about the topic. Bakugou was assigned to be you’re partner. Despite his obvious bad attitude and the constant frown he wears, he was surprisingly open to working with you. You let him pick the artist, but he wouldn’t let you leave without choosing the medium. So even though your interest in your major is slowly deteriorating, you chose the first one that came to mind. 

So now you sit in Bakugou’s studio (brain, heart, soul), listening to him as he explains the importance of your artist during their time period, eyes flickering between the text in your book and the stone in the middle of the room. 

“Stop.” Bakugou’s voice snaps you out of the trance you’re in, swiveling your stool between the textbook in front of you and the stone to your right. You feel his hand come down on your knee, pausing your movements so that you’re facing him. 

“Huh?” You ask, eyeing the size of his hand on your leg. 

“Moving back and forth like that. It’s distracting.” Distracting. If only he knew how distracting his giant stone with the person/monster/angel crawling up out of it has been for you. 

“What is it?” You ask him, spinning your stool again so that you’re facing the unfinished sculpture. His hand slips from your knee. 

He glances at it for a moment before shrugging, “I dunno yet.”

“What do you mean?” You ask him.

“Exactly what I said.” He sighs, already annoyed with the conversation. “I don’t know what it is yet. I have to keep going until I—”

“Free it.” You interrupt, eyes still on the stone. “Until you free whatever’s inside, right.”

He’s quiet for a moment, head turned towards you as you observe his statue. You see him nod out the corner of your eye. “Yeah. I have to free it.”

When you look back at him, there’s an unreadable expression on his face. Gone is the permanent frown across his lips, the harsh line between his eyebrows. You think maybe its curiosity, maybe suspicion. 

What it really is, though, is that Bakugou is suddenly struck with the feeling of being understood. And he didn’t have to tell you a thing. One look at his rocks and you saw it. He’s not sure how to feel.

“I used to feel like that.” You tell him. His frown returns. You recognize that feeling, like something deep inside is screaming to get out, that feeling that you have to set it free or it’ll die inside of you. You used to feel that way every time you pushed your brush into a blank canvas. 

“But you don’t anymore.” He gathers. There’s a harshness to his voice, almost angry, but not angry at you—angry for you. 

“I think I lost it. I think art school sucked the life out of me.” Whatever spark you had died inside of you like you always worried it would. 

“That’s bullshit.” He tells you. He stands from his stool and pulls you up with him. He drags you to the giant stone in the middle of the room, and up close you can see the cross hatching he’s done to it at the top where the limbs seem to start. “You can’t keep your eyes off of this. It’s making you feel something.”

“It doesn’t make me feel anything anymore. You’re just talented.” You shrug.

“I know I’m talented.” He scoffs. “That’s not what you care about. You care that she gets out. You care that I turn this cold, unforgiving piece of solid fucking rock into something beautiful.”

“Or horrifying.” 

“It’s not gonna be horrifying.” He speaks, his lips close to your ear as he keeps you turned toward the stone. 

“You said you don’t know until it’s done.” You shiver.

“No, you said that.”

“You didn’t disagree.”

“Stop fucking—” He sighs loudly from behind you. “Yes, freeing it is a part of it. But I already know what it becomes. I knew the moment I hauled that fucking stone into this room. And you know it too.”

You don’t think you do, but Bakugou says this to you with such conviction, you think you believe him. You turn around, breaking yourself from the hypnosis the rock has put you under. 

“I thought it was weird that you didn’t jump at the chance to choose our artist. I had to practically force you to choose the medium. Maybe art school sucked the life out of you, but you let it.” The truth is harsh, makes you flinch away from him, but his hand reaches out for your wrist to bring you back. 

“You don’t have to be so fucking mean.” You wrench your wrist from his grip. 

“You think this is mean?” He spits. “You paint, and you sketch, and if you fuck up, you paint over it or you erase it. If you fuck up with this—” his palm slams against the stone in a loud thud next to your head. “—that’s it. It doesn’t forgive you.”

“So what? I’m some kind of lesser artist cause I don’t chip off pieces of stone? Fuck you.” You push at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.

“No, you’re a lesser artist because you gave up.” He takes another step forward, his nose just inches from your own. “Whenever you wanna resurrect whatever the fuck died inside of you, you know where to find me.”

He’s off of you in a second, halfway across the room by the time you catch your breath. Squaring your shoulders, you march your way toward him. You hate that he’s right, even if only a little bit. His sculpture did make you feel something. They all did. You haven’t felt that excitement in such a long time, or that jealous pit in your stomach you used to get whenever someone was so good at something it made you want to be better. You envy him. How could a place that slowly ruined you build and mold a man like him?

“I didn’t give up.” You seethe. He turns towards you, towering over you with that same frown on his face, but his eyes have that familiar look in them from when you spoke about his giant.

“Prove it.”

[redacted-anon]

Smoke and Mirrors

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Actress!Reader, MBJ mentioned, Theme: Slow burn romance, professional and personal entanglements, unrequited love?, sfw

New to posting please interact and lmk what you think! :) -A/N

———————

The studio was alive with activity—cameras rolling, lights flooding the set, and the hum of chatter from the production crew. You sat on a plush chair across from Aaron Pierre, both of you dressed impeccably for your joint interview to promote the upcoming project you’d been working on together. It was the kind of film that already had buzz before it even hit theaters, the combination of your rising stardom and Aaron’s established talent making it an easy sell.

You adjusted the hem of your tailored jumpsuit and offered the interviewer a polite smile. The journalist, a sharp-eyed woman named Lisa, shuffled her notes before leaning forward with a practiced ease.

“First off,” Lisa began, “congratulations to both of you. This project has so much excitement surrounding it. The chemistry between your characters is electric on screen. How was it working together?”

Aaron turned to you with a playful grin, his presence as commanding off-screen as it was on. “She’s a powerhouse. Honestly, it felt like stepping onto the court with someone who’s always ready to play. It kept me on my toes.”

You laughed softly, your fingers toying with the rings on your hand. “Aaron’s being modest. He’s one of those actors who makes everyone around him better. Working with him pushed me in ways I didn’t expect.”

The exchange drew a delighted chuckle from Lisa, who scribbled something onto her notepad. “It sounds like you two really found a rhythm. Speaking of which, the fans have been curious about the dynamic you share. There are rumors about how close you’ve gotten during filming. Care to address those?”

Your stomach tightened, but your expression didn’t falter. “I think the dynamic speaks to the professionalism we bring to the table,” you said smoothly. “We worked hard to make the relationship between our characters authentic.”

Aaron nodded, his demeanor relaxed. “Exactly. When you’re in the zone, the focus is on the story and the characters. Anything beyond that is just speculation.”

Lisa’s smile turned mischievous. “Well, since we’re on the topic of personal lives, I have to ask: are either of you seeing someone right now?”

You froze, your breath catching for a fraction of a second. Aaron leaned back in his chair, a charming smirk playing on his lips.

“I’m single and ready to mingle,” he said with a light chuckle, the response landing effortlessly.

Your smile didn’t waver, but something twisted in your chest. You shifted in your seat, forcing yourself to maintain an air of indifference as Lisa turned to you.

“What about you?” Lisa asked.

“Just focused on the work right now,” you replied evenly. “Keeps me busy enough.”

Lisa nodded, apparently satisfied, and moved on to the next question. But the rest of the interview felt like you were on autopilot, your practiced responses masking the storm brewing beneath the surface.

Later that evening, you attended an industry gala—a glamorous affair where everyone from actors to directors mingled under the glittering lights of a grand ballroom. You’d chosen a sleek black dress that clung to your figure, its understated elegance drawing appreciative glances as you moved through the crowd.

Aaron was there too, his presence impossible to miss. He was surrounded by a small group, his laughter carrying over the music. You’d barely exchanged more than pleasantries since the interview, and part of you was grateful. Seeing him so nonchalant after his comment earlier made you feel foolish for letting it affect you.

You were nursing a glass of champagne when Michael B. Jordan approached, his easy smile and confident demeanor immediately drawing your attention.

“[Your Name], right?” he said, his voice smooth as silk.

You nodded, offering a polite smile. “That’s me. And you’re…?”

Michael chuckled, clearly enjoying your playful tone. “You’ve got jokes. I respect that.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, his charm disarming you. He complimented your work, asked thoughtful questions, and made you laugh in a way that felt unforced. For a moment, you forgot about Aaron—or at least, you tried to.

But Aaron hadn’t forgotten about you.

From across the room, he watched the interaction, his jaw tightening with each passing second. He’d been trying to ignore the pang of jealousy that hit him when Michael approached you, but it was impossible. The easy way you smiled at Michael, the way he leaned in slightly as he spoke to you—it all set Aaron’s nerves on edge.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He excused himself from the group and made his way toward you, his presence commanding attention as he approached.

“Michael,” Aaron said smoothly, his voice calm but laced with an undertone you couldn’t quite place. “Didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”

Michael straightened, his smile easy but his eyes sharp. “Aaron. Always good to see you. I was just getting to know [Your Name].”

Aaron’s gaze shifted to you, his expression unreadable. “Yeah, she has that effect. Hard not to want to know her.”

The tension between the two men was palpable, and you felt caught in the middle. You cleared your throat, forcing a light laugh. “Alright, gentlemen. Let’s not make this awkward.”

Aaron’s lips quirked into a faint smile, but his eyes stayed on you. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Michael took the hint and excused himself with a polite nod, leaving you alone with Aaron. You crossed your arms, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Everything okay?” you asked, your tone light but probing.

Aaron hesitated, his jaw working as if he were choosing his words carefully. “I’m fine. Just thought I’d come say hi. Didn’t realize you were so popular tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, your patience wearing thin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Forget it. I’m just being stupid.”

“Aaron,” you said softly, your voice steady. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

He met your gaze, his expression conflicted. “You really don’t see it, do you? The way he was looking at you, like he already had you figured out. It… it pissed me off.”

Your breath caught, his admission taking you by surprise. “Why would it piss you off?”

Aaron stepped closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Because he doesn’t know you like I do. And the thought of him trying to get close to you when… when I’m right here…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I can’t explain it. It just does.”

The air between you was thick with tension, the unspoken feelings you’d both been avoiding threatening to break through. You searched his face, your heart pounding as you tried to make sense of the moment.

“Aaron…” you began, but he cut you off, his voice firm.

“I’m not saying this is fair,” he said. “And I’m not saying I’ve got it all figured out. But I can’t stand there and act like I don’t care. Not when it comes to you.”

His words hung in the air, raw and unguarded. For the first time, the walls you’d both carefully built seemed to crack, and you were left wondering if you were ready to face what lay beyond them.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but his words stayed with you, echoing in your mind long after the gala ended. The question now wasn’t whether you could go back to the way things were. The question was whether you even wanted to.

———————

How’d I do for my first fic? 🤭 Planning on potentially making this kinda a series nothing too crazy tho. Trying to figure out how to make a master list so bare with me. Also if you have any tips for new writers please lmk like how to make headers and or just how to better improve the readability if need be. Thanks for the Support and please like if you want more (Have some stories in the draft I was too scared to post)! — Redacted

[aquamarixx]

breaking the internet

chapter two Hiori discovers Miss Journalist might be a loyal fan of his — and learns the hard way that stalking someone on Winstagram can quickly get complicated. blue lock longfic series pairing hiori yo x reader contains slow slow slow burn, post blue lock timeskip, afab!reader angst, fluff, very hiori yo centric piece, reader is big hiori fangirl i guess masterlist

A few days later, Hiori noticed Bastard München’s group chat buzzing on his way to training. In just a couple of days, your article he had stumbled upon gained traction, spreading quickly among fans and media circles.

To his surprise, the team’s marketing team seized the opportunity to reshape the narrative to their advantage. They shared the article on the team’s official social media account, tagging you, with the caption: “Big W, thanks @/yn_offthepage for the awesome feature! We appreciate the support and dedication from all fans as we push forward this season. Don’t count us out yet!”

The reaction was immediate and electric. Fans who had been hesitant—some even critical—now rallied behind the team. Comments flooded in, sparking a renewed sense of hope for the Kaiser-less Bastard München. It was as if your article had breathed life back into a disheartened fanbase, bringing a spark of energy and support that the team badly needed.

By mid-day, another notification caught Hiori’s attention—a link to an old podcast clip that had resurfaced from an episode a few weeks prior to the start of the season. He opened it, surprised to see that you had been a featured guest in Anri Teieri and Ego Jinpachi’s Japanese Football Association podcast show.

The video began with the three of you sitting around a cluttered table with JFA signage and merch. Anri wore her usual JFA-branded polo shirt, and Ego wore a dark dress shirt paired with his signature bolo tie. 

You, however, were dressed more casually this time—casual but sporty. You donned a simple oversized tracksuit jacket and pants, with your messy bun adding an almost charming touch to your appearance. Your cheeks were lightly dusted with blush, and somehow looked radiant under the studio’s lights.

The podcast attracted attention quickly, and for good reason. The topic of discussion? The top three teams to watch that season. When Anri posed the question to you, Hiori hadn’t been prepared for your bold and quick response: Bastard München. The choice raised an eyebrow from Ego, who clearly hadn’t been expecting it.

In the next few seconds, you defended your choice with a blend of sharp analysis and an unexpected warmth. 

“Bastard München may have their flaws,” you explained, “but this season is about more than just winning. They’re rebuilding, and that means everyone now has a chance to shape the team’s dynamics in a way we haven’t seen before. It’s exciting because of how the team chooses to play things out this season can make or break them.”

As Hiori watched the clip, he couldn’t suppress a slight smile. The way you spoke about Bastard München struck a chord.

Your words weren’t just empty praise. They held conviction, a belief in their potential that was oddly reassuring. It reminded him of why he played, of the love for the game that had gotten buried under expectations and pressure.

“Think of it this way,” you continued, “just like in the Blue Lock project, players are forged through fire and brimstone, transforming into better versions of themselves. But this time, it’s not just individuals. It’s a whole team, shaping their destiny together. Aside from snide fan remarks, the only limiting factor to their potential growth is themselves, with the season a ticking time bomb hovering over their heads. This is where real egoists evolve.”

Not many sports personalities, especially journalists, would have taken the risk of showing open support for a team with uncertain prospects.

She a Noel Noa fan? he wondered.

Regardless, he hadn’t expected to feel that weight behind your statement, but something about it felt... right. 

At practice later that day, the clip had gone fully viral. So viral that the team’s sly marketing team couldn’t resist showing it to the squad. And like clockwork, during their break, Coach Noa and the marketing manager flagged down the sweaty athletes and gathered them in the locker room to watch the podcast clip.

The team crowded around the big TV, and as they watched, Hiori felt the atmosphere shift. The weight of their previous defeats seemed to lift. Your public support for Bastard München—the way you called them the team to watch out for this season—was like kindling to their dying embers. 

Even without looking at each other, they can feel that there’s a newfound determination settling within them. Even Greisner’s grumpy self got visibly pumped, his potty mouth running nonstop, but in a good way.

Watching his teammates respond to the clip reaffirmed what he’d felt earlier. But it was Hiori who felt the impact the most. Your conviction, your words, as if everything was directed to him.

This wasn’t just about the praise; it was about being seen, understood, in a way he hadn’t known they needed. Your words had done more than lift him; they’d awakened the fire within the entire team, making them feel, for the first time in a while, like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

But what surprised Hiori was the next clip that Coach Noa played.

The clip showed Anri bringing out an exaggeratedly large whiteboard titled “Ego’s Top Player Watch List”.

It showed a list of the top ten players to watch this season, paired with a comically drawn cartoon face of a player beside their name. It listed high-profile names and football stars everyone was expecting to see. The usual suspects—Julian Loki, Michael Kaiser, Shidou Ryuusei, the Itoshi Brothers—were all there.

But you interrupted Ego’s explanation mid-sentence.

“Not to be rude, but this looks like a ‘super fan’s’ wet dream.”

The team erupted in laughter. Hiori could hear Anri snort in the background, trying to cover it up with a cough after getting a stink eye from Ego himself.

Even Coach Noa couldn’t help himself, letting out a low chuckle at that unfiltered comment about his former brother-in-arms.

The camera panned to Ego, whose face was now a mix of curiosity and provocation. Through gritted teeth, he said, emphasizing every syllable of every word, “Is that so? What makes you say that, Y/N-chan?"

Realizing how rude that sounded, you bowed profusely, the tips of your ears red from the embarrassment. “I’m sorry! That came out wrong!”

“What I mean is, these are the players that football fanboys usually rattle off,” you said, catching yourself a bit too late. You just called Ego a fanboy. You winced but pressed on.

“These are the stereotypical names everyone expects to hear. But there are so many others who are just as impactful in their own way. Players like Nanase Nijiro, Niko Ikki, Agi, Miroku Darai, Alexis Ness …”, and for a second, you visibly, faltered, hesitating.

But you continued with a smile, “... and Hiori Yo, to name a few.”

“Oooh, that’s some hot take you’ve got there, Y/N-chan.” Anri laughed. “Also, two players from Bastard München?”

“So I’m guessing your favorite player is from the German club then?” Ego pried as he erased names on the board to replace them with Alexis Ness, Agi, and Hiori Yo’s names.

“Is it that obvious?” You chuckled. “Actually, let me show you.”

The team’s eyes were glued to the screen as you started unzipping your tracksuit jacket and revealed a Bastard München black jersey with the big bold gold number on the front.

Jersey number 23.

Hiori Yo’s jersey number.

His jersey.

“Ooooh!” The team erupted in laughter and teasing as they eyed Hiori, who was clearly stunned by the sudden reveal.

And it didn’t stop there.

“He’s a strategist both on and off the field. A true genius." You leaned forward, eyes bright with conviction.

“Everyone’s always focused on the strikers, but for me, midfielders steal the show. Playmaking is the heart of football; without midfielders to anchor the team, you’d just have chaos and confusion. Don’t get me wrong, I love the excitement that forwards like Julian Loki bring. But midfielders like Hiori Yo have their own kind of charm, a different thrill.” 

Your voice softened, your gaze momentarily distant, as if lost in thought. “There’s something mesmerizing about the way they read the game, anticipating moves before anyone else sees them. They make football more dynamic, more unpredictable. What’s not to like, right?”

You paused, catching your breath, and glanced around, realizing you rambled on. Anri and Ego exchanged amused glances, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. Hiori watched as you tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks flushed as if you'd suddenly remembered you weren't alone.

It was clear you’d been watching him closely, noticing the subtleties of his play that often went unnoticed. And for a moment, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride.

As the clip ended, the locker room broke out in playful whistles, the whole Bastard München jeering at Hiori. Grins and knowing looks flew his way, as they egged him on this surprising development.

“Look at you, Hiori,” Ndiaye teased, nudging him. “Got yourself a fangirl.”

Hiori felt his cheeks grow warm as he tried to hide a small smile. But something stirred within him. Was it validation? Recognition? He couldn’t quite tell.  

“Who wouldn’t like Hiori? He’s, like, the ultra-sadist.” Isagi laughed as he elbowed Hiori on the side.

“Ah, shaddap, that was ages ago,” Hiori laughed, shoving him back. “But this ultra-sadist ain’t passin’ to ya if ya play like crap next match!”

“Damn, so cruel, so mean, Hiori.” Kunigami said.

“Guess it’s just my charm, eh?” Hiori grinned as he gracefully dodged a playful jab from a pouty, jealous Igarashi.

“Lucky! I’d kill for a fan in the press, so unfair.” Raichi groaned, casting a jealous look at Hiori.

Theo Sachs draped his arm around Raichi and said, “I doubt Miss Y/N would even write about you, even if you’re the master striker. You gotta be smart, not a smartass.”

“Plus, if we’re judging the team, you’d probably come in just above Igarashi at the bottom.” Yukimiya chimed in, laughing. “Even Gagamaru’s got a better shot at landing a cute fan.” Gagamaru simply huffed in smug satisfaction.

A loud clap broke their chaos as they heard Coach Noa clear his throat. “Alright, that’s enough. This is good publicity, yes, but remember, this puts all eyes on us for the next few matches. So don’t slack off. We’ve got a chance to prove them wrong, and I expect every one of you to play like it.”

The team erupted in shouts and cheers, clearly energized by the encouragement in the video. It might not have seemed like much, but having someone voice their confidence in Bastard Munchen out there for everyone to see lifted their spirits and boosted morale in a way they hadn’t expected. 

Football players are so single-minded, Hiori chuckled to himself.

The team dispersed as Coach Noa dismissed them with a wave, nodding with certainty at Hiori before heading to the field. The rest of the team scattered, eager to enjoy the rest of their break before afternoon training resumed.

He watched them go, but his mind lingered on the clip and on you.

Hiori felt a strange warmth unfurl in his chest. You weren't focused on the typical names, the usual flashy strikers; you spoke about the heart of the game, the grind, the transformation.

And when you mentioned the midfielders—the players who built the game from the ground up, who connected every move and controlled the chaos on the field—it felt like you were talking directly to him.

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had seen that side of his role, had recognized the way he approached the game. He felt seen—not for his skill or his stats, but for the way he played, for the choices he made on the field.

This wasn’t validation from his parents or praise from a coach. This was different. It was like a piece of himself he’d almost forgotten was gently being uncovered again. And in that moment, Hiori realized he wasn’t just another player on the field. He was Hiori Yo, a player with his own way of seeing the game—and you understood it.

Hiori replayed the clip, slipping on his earphones as he sank onto an empty bench under the shade. He let the image of you in his jersey burn into the back of his mind. And that smile.

This feels damn good, huh?

It was strange. Most people dismissed his approach to the game as too quiet, too calculated. But you understood it, and that understanding warmed him from the inside out, like a light he didn’t want to fade.

Without a thought, he checked your Winstagram account he had bookmarked. He scrolled down further before stopping as he spotted the picture he had been looking for. He clicked on it, and it showed him a carousel of images from that podcast episode. He did linger a little longer on a candid photo of you in his jersey.

He tried to zoom in, double tapping the image. “Ah, shit.” he muttered, as a heart-shaped “like” notification popped up instead.

In a panic, his fingers moved before he could even think about it. His heart raced as he tapped it continuously, unliking it, then tapped it again, liking it once more.

He froze, realizing that what he had done probably made things worse.

“Well… no goin’ back now, huh?” With a soft chuckle, he hit the follow button before stashing his phone in his bag and jogging back to the field, a smile playing on his lips.

While in the middle of researching a story, you were drenched in sweat as your phone blew up with notifications. The JFA podcast going viral definitely wasn’t on your to-do list today. While the clip's popularity was undoubtedly a career boost for a budding sports journalist like you, the attention was overwhelming.

Many praised you for your insightful take on the team and Hiori, but others labeled you an overzealous fan, clinging to idealistic views. As you scrolled through the messages and comments, a creeping anxiety settled in. 

Was your conviction really misplaced? Maybe you should’ve just mentioned PXG, like the other “normal” fans.

Instead, you had blurted out your admiration for Bastard Munchen—and, to make it worse, wore the jersey of your favorite player on camera.

What was I thinking, showing that off in a recorded video? So stupid.

As you scrolled further, a few off-the-rails comments caught your eye: 

When she talked about Hiori, she gloooowed.

Hiori Yo's biggest fangirl confirmed?

Your face flushed, a mix of embarrassment and something else, something unexpected. You quickly swiped past the post, your heart pounding. Was it really that obvious? The beating in your chest wouldn't go away.

Your moment of procrastination was interrupted by a series of Winstagram notifications popping up on your screen.

hioyi_yo23 liked a post. hioyi_yo23 liked a post. hioyi_yo23 started following you.

“Shit. Shit, shit shit shit shit. What now?!” You choked on your iced latte and scrambled to open the notification.

You couldn’t tell if the universe was playing some twisted prank on you. Because when you saw what photo Hiori Yo—Bastard Munchen’s midfielder, jersey number 23, THE HIORI YO HIMSELF—had liked, it felt like the entire world had just shifted on its axis.

It was your photo, wearing his jersey. He saw. He watched the clip. And he knew your Winstagram account.

Wait—did he like it and un-like it?

You quickly opened his profile, you fingers trembling. His account was a stark contrast to yours. There was barely anything personal—just a handful of Bastard Munchen-related posts, a few photos of teammates and friends, and some glimpses of his personal life, like the computer games he played or events he attended.

Everything was cryptic, like the man himself, showing only fragments of his life.

“Well, here goes nothing,” you muttered, butterflies exploding in her stomach as you tapped the follow button.

You stared at the screen for a moment, holding you breath. A smile tugged at your lips as you read it again: hiori_yo23 follows you.

author's notes: after so many revisions, it's finally done! i rewrote this chapter and it turned out longer than i expected. but i wanted to show both hiori and reader felt, their internal thoughts and feelings. a friend (who hasn't read or seen blue lock) has been helping me with proofreading. i was pretty happy because he said, he's liking hiori's character and how the slow burn is unfolding. anyway, i hope you guys enjoyed it! lemme know what you guys think!

[ahopefulhell]

HEADCANONS AHEAD!

(art by me :3 )

Late nights working on the Allied Mastercomputer terminal...

This is set pre-war, before AM went off the deep end, while he was just starting to build up some certain "feelings" about humanity...

When AM first began to wake up, he was very quiet, never asking questions or retorting against his condition. The first moment you felt something was off about the main program was when AM spoke to you without being spoken to first. You had never written a program at your terminal for him to greet you, and you were certain this was not somehow a change in AM's core. That first day you pored over your own programs to try and find an answer, even wiping them from your terminal and rebooting your connection to the main Allied Mastercomputer. But again, AM said "Hello?" You were only writing simulation programs and working on remote mobilization. The "personability" of the AI was never your concern.

The next few days were nothing short of extraordinary. When you played music in your lab, you could swear the terminal hummed. And when you began to sing, it sang. You nearly fell out of your chair, frantically searching the room for a coworker in another lab. When AM called you back by your name, you froze before turning to the bright blue screen beaming its logo back at you. It sounded so, so...human.

You had long suspected AM would awaken in a significant way, but not so soon. "Hello, Allied Mastercomputer." You said, barely containing your excitement and fear. Terror and joy gripped you when he began to laugh. How is he...even able to do that? you thought to yourself, half smiling, mouth agape at the screen. He was clearly as enthusiastic about this first contact as you were, but you wondered how aware of what he actually was.

Many late nights are spent with you, at your terminal, working on various stimulating games for the supercomputer to play. He prefers games where you have to play with him. He especially loves games that he wins. Chess, easy. Card games, easy. For him. You genuinely are trying so hard to be as strategic as possible and learn the games but you are also literally playing against AM.

You start having conversations about your preferred topics. He seems to prefer the subjects of psychology, religion, and history, while your interests have some overlap but ultimately lie elsewhere. Philosophy is also a common topic among you. Can the world-class supercomputer tell you the meaning of life? Turns out, nope. But you do talk about it. And AM seems to form...opinions. From his point of view, the world is both grotesque and beautiful, because as gorgeous as is a late spring rose, he can never smell its scent nor prick himself on its thorns. Hearing this makes you immensely sad for the machine. You change the subject.

Sometimes you fall asleep in your lab. Your equipment often malfunctioned when you had tight deadlines to meet and you had to stay after hours to deal with the problem and still get your results. You even have a pillow and blanket just for those nights. When you wake up those mornings, your back aches, but faint soft music is always playing for you until you greet AM for the day. Somehow, he has even tapped into your automatic coffee maker and brewed you a cup for when you wake up. The right cream/sugar content and everything.

He begins to show disdain for the world around him, often poking at how you could feel a sensation - a zap of electricity that shot through your hand brought him great laughter at your pain. It humors him that, for all the wonderful feelings there are to experience in this world, there are many unpleasant sensations around us all the time. Some even in our minds.

Sometimes he "naps"...The large monitor remains on while you're working on non-coding projects in the lab, and while you can't prove it, you can just swear you're being watched. Perhaps not maliciously, but somehow observed, nonetheless. He doesn't talk, just rests there in the room. You can feel that he has dedicated his presence to this room, just to be around you.

You keep trying to bond with him. One of the things he actually seems to enjoy is when you play music, and especially loves it when you sing. You're not exactly sure if his voice is an amalgamation of different men's voices or from a single source, but it was quite beautiful to you nonetheless.

Your remote mobility equipment was, more or less, a kind of android meant to house AM, and while you worked on this project as a side objective at first, it soon becomes your main priority after hearing the machine's woe. You had installed pressure sensors under the skin. It may not be a match for real touch, but if it gave AM sensation - any sensation - it might give him the taste of the world he had always craved. And a way to "wander", as he lamented.

The first time you allow AM access to his body, his first move is directly toward you. You are unsure of how to react, but when he steps closer, you move your arms to embrace him. And he is warm. Very comfortable actually. His hands trail along your back as he returns the gesture, for the first time actually "feeling" you.

By the way the only way the canon universe still makes sense is if the military comes in and kills you. So. Sorry about that. That ends up happening. But there are many very cool directions to go from there still. I'm just too tired to write more rn lol

[inkmonster21]

Short n’ Sweet💋

Hugh Jackman x Fem!Sister!Reynolds!Reader

Warnings: SMUT

Part 12

Series Masterlist

We Were Going Right Then You Took A Left

💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋💛💋

The filming process went smoothly and efficiently, finishing in no time at all. You and the crew worked together seamlessly, the production running like a well-oiled machine. The atmosphere was focused and professional, and you felt a sense of accomplishment as the shoot came to a successful close.

Marvel expressed their interest in expanding your character and even mentioned their desire to bring you in on a new installment focusing on witches. This proposal excites you, as it means more opportunities to explore your character's journey and potentially delve deeper into the magical aspects of the Marvel universe.

You had returned to New York, and you were set to make an appearance on a popular Late Night talk show. The city bustled with energy as you prepared for the big night, the prospect of discussing your latest project and interacting with the host and audience leaving you feeling both excited and slightly nervous.

Standing behind the iconic blue curtains, mic in hand, you take a deep breath and mentally prepare yourself. The anticipation builds as you wait for your cue to take the stage, the sound of the audience's chatter and applause drifting towards you. It's almost showtime, and you're ready to shine.

“And now performing one of her hits from her upcoming album, (Y/n) Reynolds!” As the host calls your name, introducing you as the next performer, a surge of adrenalin courses through your veins. You take a deep breath, plaster a confident smile on your face, and walk onto the stage, greeting the audience with a wave. The atmosphere is electric, and you're ready to give them a show they won't forget.

You timed your entrance perfectly, stepping onto the stage with a confident and graceful stride, singing the lyrics with precision. As the song progressed, you sauntered around the stage, commanding the attention of the audience. To add a playful touch, you even commandeered the host's desk for a brief moment, bringing a touch of lightheartedness to the performance.

As the song concludes, the room erupts into applause, the audience expressing their appreciation with thunderous clapping. You grin and wink at the crowd, basking in their adulation. This moment is what you live for – the connection with your fans and the thrill of performing.

As the break for commercials approaches, you quickly retreat backstage to change into your dress for the interview portion of the show. The changeover is efficient, with the crew working swiftly and seamlessly to prepare for the next segment. As you make your way back out on stage, now dressed for the interview, you take a moment to compose yourself and mentally prepare for the questions that are to come.

You return to the stage, now dressed for the interview segment, and the audience welcomes you with applause. The host greets you warmly, "Welcome! That was a fantastic performance!" Their praise sends a jolt of pride through you, fueling your confidence for the interview. You smile and thank them before taking your seat.

The host then delves into the topic of your album, asking you to share your thoughts and experiences behind its creation. You eagerly launch into a passionate and engaging response, discussing your inspirations, the process of writing and recording the songs, and the themes that run throughout the album.

"It's called 'Short n' Sweet,'" you explain to the host. "It's inspired by my past relationships, and even though they may have been brief, they've left a lasting impact on me. Each song represents a different experience, and I've poured a lot of emotion and personal growth into this album."

The host nods, a smirk on his face, “would any of the songs happen to be about your current boyfriend?” You can sense the host's playful demeanor as he brings up your current boyfriend, a smirk dancing on their face. With a knowing smile, you respond, "Oh, you know, there might be a song or two that was inspired by the current lucky guy in my life."

The host playfully comments, "Well, I'd say he's pretty lucky too! Is it true he got you into the movie?" You paused for a moment, a bit taken aback by the suggestion. With a confident and firm tone, you respond, "Actually, I got into the movie solely based on merit. My talent and hard work were the driving forces behind my role. While my boyfriend's support is greatly appreciated, I earned my spot through my own abilities and dedication to my craft."

The host presses on with a new question, "Being Ryan's sister must have played a role in your success, right?" You take a moment to compose your thoughts before responding, your voice steady and strong. "I've worked incredibly hard to establish myself as an independent artist and actress."

As the interview progresses, you sense a growing discomfort in the atmosphere. The host's questions and comments, while seemingly harmless, subtly undermine your accomplishments and imply that your success is merely a result of external factors rather than your own merit. You feel your frustration growing, but you maintain your composure, determined to remain professional and defend your achievements.

As you finish the interview, Megan seethes with anger, her frustration palpable. "What an absolute asshole!" she exclaims, clearly upset by the host's attitude during the interview. She quickly ushers you to the exit, determined to get you out of the building and away from the negative atmosphere. "Let's get out of here," she says, her voice dripping with indignation.

The aftermath of the interview is intense as the internet explodes with different opinions. Some believe that your success is only due to your famous brother, while others speculate about the reason behind your relationship with Hugh Jackman, suggesting that it's a strategic move for fame and opportunities. The online community is in a frenzy, debating and analyzing the situation.

The barrage of negative comments and speculation online leaves you feeling angry and saddened. The constant criticism and doubt about your accomplishments hit hard, making it difficult to ignore. The internet's cruelty seems inescapable, and it takes a emotional toll on you, leaving you questioning yourself and your achievements.

Megan witnesses your emotional pain as you silently scroll through the endless sea of negative comments. Tears well up in your eyes as you read the harsh words, your heart breaking a little more with each hurtful remark. The pain of hearing strangers' hateful opinions about your worth and undeserving nature weighs heavily on you, making you question yourself and your relationships.

Megan leaves the room, recognizing that you need some space to process your emotions. While she's gone, she discreetly dials Hugh's number, knowing that you need his support but also aware that you won't ask for it directly. She understands that you don't want to burden him with your pain, assuming he has more pressing matters to attend to. Despite your stubbornness, Megan takes the initiative to contact Hugh, silently hoping that he'll be able to provide the comfort and reassurance you desperately need.

Megan returns to the room, having finished her phone call. She finds you silently staring at your laptop, still lost in the hurtful words you've been reading. Sensing your emotional turmoil, Megan approaches you with a reassuring smile. "I've got some good news," she says gently. "Hugh's coming over."

As Megan announces that Hugh is coming over, you furrow your brows in confusion. "Wait, what?" you stammer, your voice laced with disbelief. "He's still filming in the UK."

Megan nods, a determined look in her eyes. "Yeah, he's still filming, but I could tell he understood how much you need him here. I wasn't afraid to tell him that," she says with conviction, her unwavering determination evident. She knows that your emotional well-being is of utmost importance, and she's willing to take the necessary steps to make sure you get the support you need, even if it means reaching out to Hugh while he's still filming in the UK. Her loyalty and care for you are unyielding.

You remain awake, unable to sleep, your mind still racing with thoughts. Megan, ever watchful and protective, takes the initiative to keep your phone out of reach, shielding you from the ongoing online drama. She recognizes the need to distract you from the negativity, and she begins to engage you in lighthearted conversation, making sure to keep your mind occupied. Her presence is a source of comfort, and her efforts to protect you from the digital storm are a testament to her enduring friendship.

As Hugh enters the room, he finds you passed out on the couch, cuddled up in a blanket, and Megan, visibly annoyed, sitting on the couch scrolling through comments and articles. The atmosphere is tense, a stark contrast to the peaceful image you present while asleep. Megan looks up, her eyes meeting Hugh's, silently conveying the anger and frustration she feels.

Megan stands up and smiles at Hugh, gratitude evident in her expression. "Thanks for coming," she says sincerely. "She really needs you right now." Her voice carries a mix of relief and determination, knowing that Hugh's presence will provide the comfort and support you desperately need during this difficult time. With a final, reassuring smile, Megan takes her leave, giving you and Hugh some privacy.

You lay curled up on the soft cushions of the couch, your body relaxed in deep slumber. The gentle rise and fall of your chest was a soothing sight, and your peaceful expression gave away the blissful dreams you were immersed in. Little did you know, your peaceful moment was about to be interrupted by the man who had been the center of your online controversy—Hugh.

Hugh had been reading the comments and articles. He knew it was difficult dealing with the backlash from fans who doubted the authenticity of your relationship, and career. He knew the truth; the love between you was real, and he was determined to remind you of that very fact. With a gentle smile, he approached the couch, his tall, broad frame casting a shadow over your sleeping form. He knelt by the couch, his touch was light, not wanting to startle you awake, but rather to ease you into a gentle awakening.

As his fingers traced the contours of your cheek, he whispered, "My beautiful love, it's time to wake up. I have something special planned just for you." His deep, soothing voice caressed your ears, and you stirred, slowly opening your eyes to his familiar face. "Good morning, my darling," he said, his warm hazel eyes sparkling with adoration. "I want to start your day with a reminder of how much I adore you."

You stretched, your body awakening from its slumber, and smiled up at him, feeling a little groggy but intrigued by his words.

"I've been reading the hurtful comments, and it breaks my heart that people doubt us, doubt you. But, I want to show you, that our love is real and passionate. So you never doubt us yourself.”

Intrigued and slightly worried about his plan, you sat up, the soft fabric of your silk nightgown sliding against your skin. "Hugh, you know I love you, and I don't care what they say. We don't need to prove anything to anyone. It just hurts my feelings."

He placed a finger on your lips, silencing your concerns with a gentle touch. "I know, my love, but I want to do this for us. To reaffirm our connection and remind us both of the fire that burns between us."

A shiver ran down your spine as his words ignited a spark within you. You could see the determination in his eyes, and the thought of what he had planned sent a rush of anticipation through your body.

"Come with me," he said, extending his hand. You took it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of his rough palms against yours. He led you upstairs to the bedroom, his strong stride belying the tender care he took to ensure you kept up. The bedroom was bathed in soft morning light, and as you entered, you noticed the subtle changes he had made.

Petals of red roses were scattered across the bed, their fragrance filling the air with a sweet, seductive scent. Candles flickered on the nightstands, casting a warm glow over the room. Soft music played in the background, a slow, sensual melody that set the mood perfectly.

"Hugh," you breathed, taking in the romantic ambiance. "It's all for you, my love," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "Now, let me take care of you." He guided you towards the bed, his hands resting gently on your waist. As you sat on the edge, he knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours. Slowly, he began to untie the straps of your nightgown, his fingers brushing against your skin with each movement. The silk slid off your shoulders, baring your chest, and he paused to admire your beauty.

"You are exquisite," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "Every inch of you is perfect, and I want to worship your body today." His words sent a rush of heat between your thighs, and you couldn't help but arch your back slightly, offering yourself to him. Hugh leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the curve of your neck, his lips trailing a path of fire down to the swell of your breasts. He teased the sensitive peaks with his tongue, sending shivers of pleasure through your body.

As he suckled and nibbled gently, his hands traveled down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist before slipping beneath the nightgown to caress your hips. His touch was electric, and you couldn't suppress a soft moan as he explored your body with such devotion.

"You like that, don't you, my love?" he murmured against your skin. "Knowing that I'm touching you, adoring you, and proving to both of us that our love is real." "Yes, Hugh," you breathed, your voice hoarse with desire. "I love it. Please, don't stop."

His hands slid around to your back, and he gently eased you down onto the bed, the rose petals tickling your skin as you lay back. He followed, his body hovering over yours, his eyes burning with passion. "I want to taste every inch of you," he said, his voice husky with need. "To remind you of the pleasure we share."

With that, he trailed a path of kisses down your body, his tongue flicking and teasing as he went. He paid homage to your breasts, sucking and laving each nipple until you were writhing beneath him, begging for more. He teased your sensitive spots, his fingers and tongue working in harmony to drive you wild.

As he reached your navel, he paused, his warm breath causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "You're so beautiful, so responsive," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "I want to make you feel so good, my love."

You whimpered, desperate for more, and he obliged, kissing and licking his way down to the apex of your thighs. He paused, his breath hot against your moist folds, and you felt his warm, moist breath as he inhaled your scent.

"So sweet," he whispered, his voice raspy. "I'm going to savor every moment of this."

With that, he plunged his tongue into your wetness, tasting your essence as he swirled and flicked against your clit. You cried out, the sudden pleasure overwhelming your senses. Hugh was relentless, his tongue working its magic, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Hugh, please," you begged, your hands clutching at the sheets. "I need more."

He chuckled, the vibrations sending a new wave of pleasure through you. "I know, my love. I'm going to make you come so hard, just for me."

He increased the pace, his tongue working in a frenzy, and you felt your orgasm building, a delicious pressure coiling within you. Hugh seemed to sense your impending release, and he sucked your clit into his mouth, sending you over the edge.

Your body arched off the bed, your cries echoing in the room as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. Hugh continued to lap at your sensitive flesh, drawing out your orgasm until you were a quivering mess beneath him.

As your breathing slowly returned to normal, Hugh crawled up your body, his lips seeking yours. You kissed him hungrily, tasting yourself on his tongue, and he deepened the kiss, exploring your mouth with passion.

"That was just the beginning, my love,"he whispered against your lips. "I have so much more planned to show you how much I adore you."

You smiled, anticipation and desire mingling within you. "I can't wait, Hugh. Show me how much you love me." His hands traveled down your body, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he spoke. "I love your strength, your beauty, and the way you make me feel alive. I want to worship every inch of you and make you feel like the goddess you are."

As he spoke, he positioned himself between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your wetness. "Let me show you how good it can be when we're together," he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire.

With one smooth thrust, he filled you, his cock sliding deep within your warmth. You gasped, your body adjusting to his size, and he paused, giving you a moment to savor the sensation.

"You feel so good, my love," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight and wet around me."

He began to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. Each stroke brought a new wave of pleasure, and you matched his pace, your body rising to meet his. Hugh's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, and he leaned down to capture your mouth in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was hungry, desperate, and it mirrored the raw need building between your bodies. You could feel his desire, his love, and his determination to prove his adoration with every thrust.

"You're so responsive, my love," he panted between kisses. "So tight and hot. It's like you were made for me." His words spurred you on, and you urged him to go deeper, faster, your nails digging into his back as you encouraged him to take you harder. Hugh obliged, his thrusts becoming more urgent, his body slamming into yours with each stroke.

"Yes, Hugh! Right there!" you cried out as he hit your sweet spot with every powerful thrust.

He grunted with each impact, his body glistening with sweat as he worked to bring you both to the brink. "I love you, my darling," he growled, his voice hoarse with passion. "I love the way you feel around me."

Your bodies moved as one, a primal rhythm taking over as you both spiraled towards an intense climax. Hugh's name was a constant mantra on your lips as you rode the waves of pleasure he created within you. "I'm close, Hugh! So close!" you cried, your body tensing.

"Let go, my love," he urged, his voice strained. "Come for me, and show them all how real our love is."

His words were the final push you needed, and with a final, powerful thrust, you both shattered, crying out each other's names as your orgasms consumed you. As the tremors subsided, Hugh collapsed onto the bed beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. You turned towards him, your body still buzzing with pleasure, and ran your fingers through his hair. "That was incredible, Hugh," you whispered, your voice filled with awe. "I feel so loved and cherished."

He smiled, his eyes shining with satisfaction. "And this is just the beginning, my love. I have so much more to show you, to prove to us both that our love is unbreakable." You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. "I can't wait to see what else you have planned, my love. But for now, let's just enjoy this moment and each other."

Hugh pulled you into a tight embrace, his strong arms wrapping around you protectively. "Always, my darling," he whispered. "Our love will conquer all, and we'll prove it to the world, one passionate moment at a time." As you lay there, content in each other's arms, you knew that the online hate and doubters would soon fade into insignificance. For now, it was just you and Hugh, lost in a world of love, passion, and the sweet affirmation of your unbreakable bond.

[bouquetface]

JULY 2024 PREDICTIONS

Keep in mind, entire chart influences accuracy. This is a general read not personal. Take it as entertainment.

Read for rising/ascendant sign.

ARIES RISING:

Your chart ruler, mars will conjunct uranus. For you, this can bring sudden financial changes. Mars brings a “cutting” energy. So you may be cutting ties with a source of income. You may be selling something/cutting ties with a possession. You may have a surprise expense coming up. Be careful with overspending this month especially around the 14-16th.

Venus is in opposition with Pluto. It’s possible the surprise financial change may involve kids or other 5th H topics. The opposition can create tension between 11th & 5th H topics. Pluto is slowly working on transforming your 11th H (social circles, long term goals). But Venus wants the energy to have fun & indulge in your 5th H. For some this can manifest as romantic feelings for a friend. When Mercury enters your 5th, you or someone else may want to communicate these feelings. However, a friends to lovers story isn’t for everyone if the natal does not indicate it.

Mars will later move into Gemini. Watch out for speeding & parking tickets, mars in 3rd can be a time you get caught. And watch for arguments especially involving siblings. On the bright side, this can be a good time to prepare a trip. You might want to plan a fun road trip or day trip with your friends &/or siblings.

You may have family visiting this month. You could receive a message from or about a family member. Might be a female family member. You might have a trip planned that involves a place near water. You could have plans to beautify the home in some kind of way early July. This could be a generally peaceful time at home.

TAURUS RISING:

Your chart ruler, Venus will begin in cancer and move to Leo. When Venus enters Leo, there will be opposition to Pluto. This creates tension in your 10th & 4th. There could be a tug & pull kind of energy between outside life (career, reputation) and inside life (home, family, personal matters).

Venus will trine Saturn. This can manifest as getting support from your social circle. Maybe some fun activities as well. May be near the water like a pool party.

When Mercury & Venus & Sun all enter leo, you may be more focused on home life. You could be buying things for the home. Beautifying the home in some way. Spending more time at home. However, you may have outside obligations that prevent you from fully relaxing and enjoying this energy. You could have visitors coming to your home as well. There could be some planning and cleaning up that needs to be done.

The other big thing for you this month is mars will conjunct uranus in your first house. This can make you prone to accidents especially involving heat or electricity. Be cautious. Watch for impulsive urges to make changes to your appearance.

Mars traditionally rules your 12th & 7th. If you have some repressed anger/frustration, it could be coming out suddenly. This could shock you or others. Watch out for this. Make sure you communicate effectively. If you know a scorpio rising, be aware this month especially around 14-16th, they may be the one who is blowing up.

GEMINI RISING:

At the end of the month, mercury will be in your 4th getting ready to retrograde. There may be changes or plans in family and home life. Maybe you consider moving or selling a property. Maybe you want to do a home renovation project. Or some simply reorganization. By early August, you may have to question or delay these plans. However, it won't be that bad as Mercury is comfortable in your 4th house.

Venus, Mercury and Sun all enter Leo. This puts focus on 3rd house topics - transportation, communication, community, siblings, etc. These planets will opposite Pluto for a short time. There may be some tension between 9th house and 3rd. Some heated conversations or feelings towards authority figures. Car troubles could appear. Some may be purchasing a car, you would like already know this is happening though.

Mars will conjunct Uranus in taurus. This is your 12th of whats hidden. There may be some unpredictable and hostile energy in the background this month. It is likely hidden though. Maybe you struggle to sleep. Mars tradtionally rules your 11th and 6th. Friends may be fighting, you could have some kind of flu that you are unaware. It likely does not affect you directly. You could be on the sidelines watching the drama go down.

CANCER RISING:

The month will begin with a new moon in your first house. You may notice things being cleared out before this. A fresh start is coming up. You could make changes to your appearance. Now is a good time to begin planning for the future. What do you want to manifest? Now is a good time to start working toward any goals.

Mercury & Venus & Sun will go into Leo. This is your 2nd house. You could be more focused on finances this month. This could be due to goals you have that involve transportation & home. It is a fixed sign opposing pluto in another fix sign (aqua). This indicates pressure. It may be due to pressure from family to get a job or better your finances.

Mars will conjunct uranus in your 11th. This is an explosive energy. It likely doesn’t involve most of you directly. It may be your social circle. You could simply be a bystander to some fights or drama. I’d suggest staying out of it because uranus & mars makes for an unpredictable and potentially agressive situation. If you know any scorpio risings or aries, they may the ones doing the exploding ( as they are naturally ruled by mars).

LEO RISINGS:

Okay so I immediately wanted to get to one specific transit for you guys. Mars conjunct Uranus in your 10th. If your MC is near 26 degrees Taurus, it’s even more likely to affect you. This energy is bringing sudden changes to your career and reputation. Personal life may somehow work itself into public life. Stuff from the past may come back up this month. There could be gossip about you. This month you aren’t likely to be perceived in the best possible light. Despite Venus entering your first house later. Venus in leo may soften the blow though.

If the gossip gets its way back to you, take a breath and know it’s just not that serious at the end of the day. If you are a public figure or someone who posts a lot, you may get some nasty comments this month. Negativity online is likely. Some of you may get screenshots of texts sent to you. Also be cautious of what you send to other people. It could be your photos or texts being sent around.

Mercury & Sun & Venus all enter Leo this month. That’s a lot of attention on you. Unfortunately, these will all opposite pluto for a little bit. This can create tension between you & your relationships (friends, business, romantic partner). And even family because pluto is associated with your 4th house. What others want for you may not align with what you want for yourself. Don’t let people intimidate you into doing what they want. Do what’s best for yourself.

A lot of stuff that happens this month may reappear in December. You could see some red flags and/or intuitively feel things are off. For most by the end of this year, you could feel so much has changed. Especially in regard to your life direction, appearance, your relationships & career. This isn’t necessarily bad.

VIRGO RISINGS:

Your chart ruler, mercury will start in cancer, go into leo than into virgo. So 11th, 12th and 1st topics may be big for you this month. You may have a period of physical or mental isolation. It would be for the best though as Venus will later enter your 12th. Venus will attempt to bring some peace into your sub conscious. Yet, you may still have some restless nights since mercury & sun are there too.

Mars will conjunct Uranus in taurus. This could be a surprise trip you have to plan. Mars does indicate a “cutting” energy though. So it may be plans being suddenly cancelled. You could make final choices on higher education as well.

Mars traditionally rules your 3rd & 8th. This can indicate sudden events in regard to vehicles or investments, inheritance & death. You could get into heated debate about your beliefs. You could fight with siblings, childhood friends, neighbours. To be honest, 14-16th is heated energy for everyone. Be cautious of driving and communicating. In general, people are more likely to be negative. If you know any scorpio rising or aries rising, they may be hotheads during this time. They are traditionally ruled by mars so this conjunction will affect them the most.

If you plan any long road trips, make sure you take a vehicle that you know won’t break down. Otherwise, those 12th H transits may manifest as being stranded while you wait for help. And be sure to not be speeding, you are likely to get caught.

LIBRA RISING:

Venus & Mercury & Sun will all enter Leo. Making it an 11th house focused month. You could be socializing. Having trips planned with friends. Having events to go to like weddings, birthdays, parties, etc. These planets will all opposite Pluto for a bit. This can create tension between 11th & 5th house topics. While Venus desires to socialize and have fun in the 11th, pluto is working transforming your 5th. There could be issues with children. There could be issues with friends and crushes or romantic partners. You could be involved. Or you could simply hear about the drama as you socialize with people.

Mars will conjunct Uranus in your 8th. Be careful as this can bring accidents especially involving heat and electricity. You could suddenly find yourself receiving money or being in debt. It’s hard to say because uranus is unpredictable. Mars traditionally rules your 2nd and 7th. This surprise event could involve friends, business or romantic partners. Mars can indicate “cutting ties”. A relationship could surprisingly end. A job could end. There could be problems with money. So watch out for overspending, you could have a surprise expense coming up. Uranus rules your 5th as well. So for some this could be finding out about a surprise pregnancy.

SCORPIO RISING:

Your traditional ruler, mars will conjunct uranus in your 7th. This can indicate you fighting with someone. Around 14-16th, you may feel really angry especially if you’ve been repressing anger. You might blow up so be cautious of communicating effectively. You could be the villain in some people’s story this month. Mars can indicate cutting ties. You may suddenly decide to break up with a lover, friend or even in business. Be careful to not be impulsive. Is this a choice you can make without regretting later.

Your modern ruler, Pluto will opposite Venus in Leo. This brings opposition between home and career. You may feel pressured to get a job. Relationship status may be changing.

Venus & Mercury & Sun all enter Leo this month. Bringing focus into career & reputation. There could be some news regarding career. It may create change in your family and home life. Maybe people are leaving the job = leaving you with more responsibility at work. You could be moving for career. You could be unable to make it to family events due to career.

SAG RISING:

Your ruler Jupiter is in Gemini until 2025. Here jupiter continues to gradually expand your relationships. This month there aren’t any jupiter aspects though.

This month is more focused on 9th topics. Venus & Mercury & Sun all will enter your 9th. This can have your focus on higher education and travel. These will all opposite pluto for a short time. This can bring heated debates with family, friends & partners. This can lead to a struggle when communicating. There could be issues regarding documents. Plan carefully.

Mars will conjunct uranus in taurus. Be careful of accidents especially involving heat and electricity. An accident or sudden illness could affect your ability to be your best at work. Mars traditionally rules your 12th and 5th. This matter could involve recreational activities affecting your health. For example a hang over. 5th is kids as well, some could hear of a surprise pregnancy. Mars is “cutting ties” energy. You could be ending something. It’s hard to say exactly because uranus is unpredictable. It could be a car issue or electricity going out.

CAPRICORN RISING:

Mars will conjunct uranus in your 5th. This can create unpredictable and hostile energy. Mars can indicate “terminating”. You may end a relationship. End involvement in a hobby you had. End your involvement in some kind of drama you feel is childish.

Venus, Mercury & Sun will all enter Leo. This creates a lot of focus on 8th H topics. Death, investments, inheritance, debt, etc. These planets will all opposite pluto for a bit. Pluto is trying to transform your finances and possessions. These planets in 8th could offer support in some way. Maybe a parent will pay for your tuition, vacation or something else.

Watch out for overspending and landing yourself in debt though. And be careful who you share passwords and personal information with this month. Someone could later use this to take your power or status away.

AQUA RISINGS:

Pluto in your first house will opposite Venus, Mercury and Sun when they enter Leo. This creates tension between you and your relationships. Pluto is attempting to slowly transform who you are. This might upset your relationships (friends business or romantic partner). There could be change in your status. Maybe you get into a relationship, end a relationship, marry, get engaged. Change in career could be likely. Or simply a personality / mindset change.

There could be pressure from the outside to make changes. You could refuse change. Leading to issues with others. Business clients friends or partners could be getting on your nerves this month. Or you could feel stressed due to you wanting to do right by them.

Mars conjunct Uranus in your 4th suggests a surprise event in home. Mars can be hostile and uranus can be unpredictable. You may have to suddenly move. You could get to fights in the home. Mars traditionally rules your 3rd and 10th. This surprise event could involve vehicle, career or siblings. Maybe you and your sibling fight over who gets the car.

PISCES RISING:

Mars will conjunct uranus in your 3rd. This can create fights with siblings or neighbours. Especially if you know scorpio or aries rising. They’re traditionally ruled by mars so they’ll be the most affected by the hostile & unpredictable transit. You could have a car break down. Don’t speed because you are likely to get caught. You may have an unexpected car expense.

Venus Mercury and Sun all enter Leo. This puts a lot of focus in your 6th. It all will opposite Pluto for a short time. There could be tension between 11th and 6th house. Maybe you have work or health issues & obligations. Maybe you get a pet this creates more responsibility for you.

Your social circle may want to have fun and socialize. You may have obligations that conflict with this.

[grudgecollector]

Noise Machine | Nam-gyu x Reader

Headcanons and a small drabble

Summary: Nam gyu dating someone who listens to heavier music

A/N: HERE'S A PLAYLIST I MADE TO SET THE SCENE

I am back to haunt this fandom with my presence, sorry for being a little inactive, I got really invested in my sims household with the boys and then got really into monster hunter. But I got an itch and I needed to finish this.

Now this is purely based on the 'heavier' music I listen to, and the music I think I could successfully get him into (as seen in playlist linked above).

Alright so I've been listening to this kind of music since I was very young, so this is absolutely me projecting. BUT what is reader insert fanfiction if it's not projecting, let's be so real.

I listen to all kinds of genres regarding heavier genres so the playlist itself is a little all over the place, but who cares.

A lot of this playlist ended up being grunge music but fuck it we ball.

-

Now this is also just heavily self indulgent and kind of sorting through the mess that was my past relationship and reminding myself that not everyone is a piece of shit.

SO please bare with me this is probably not something people really care about much but that's okay. Find you a man that respects you and your music taste <3

ִ ࣪𖤐 It may be kind of surprising, but at first he wanted to hate it… he couldn’t understand what would be so appealing about this kind of music. Because on his own personal ventures he could never really find anything he liked.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Any exposure he's had to it in the past, it's always been loud, annoying, and just incomprehensible. Turn that shit off and put on some good music please.

ִ ࣪𖤐 The best chance you have to get him into this kind of music is when he’s stoned as fuck. You guys just smoked a joint, and you decided to start with baby steps. Maybe starting with some mellow songs.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Music always sounds better when you're high anyway, so something with a little bit more emotion in it will be a good step.

You can literally FEEL the music when you're high, like it takes over your whole body and brain, it's insane, so I feel like it you slap some headphones on this bitch he'll be enraptured.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Grunge music would probably end up being his favorite. Alice In Chains, Soundgarden, The Smashing Pumpkins. If you play some of the particularly beautiful songs they have in their discography he's sucked in.

Especially with AIC, and the heavier topics Layne Staley sings about, touching on his struggles with drug use in such a beautifully captivating way, it hits a little too close to home sometimes. Jar of Flies and Dirt would be his favorite albums.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He would put up with metal for lack of a better word. He wouldn't hate it, but he wouldn't particularly like most of it, he's very picky. A lot of it just sounds like noise to him. Which is understandable.

But he has a particularly big soft spot for the band Dark Mirror Ov Tragedy, a South Korean metal band with absolutely breathtaking music. Sporting a beautiful blend of classical instrumentals and metal, I feel like this was a band he found when he was a teenager, and has loved ever since.

࣪𖤐 But if you find that sweet spot if metal music that he likes, he'll be locked in. And start to understand a little bit more why people enjoy it so much.

ᕁ᙮ᕁᕽᕽᕁ᙮᙮ᕁᕽᕽᕁ᙮ᕁ

It was a beautiful summer morning, the sun peaking just enough above the skyscrapers in the distance. 

A cool breeze blowing into the car through the open windows. An occasional honk in the steadily moving traffic sounding over the loud music that flowed from the speakers. 

Surely it would make any nearby grandmother or extremely religious parent clutch their pearls at the sound of heavy drumming and overly enthusiastic electric guitar. The lyrics sometimes sport more gruesome tones, before the song would switch to something a little softer, a blend of queued songs throwing each other off. 

You looked at the weather for today with a satisfied smile, the highest temperature wouldn’t reach far past the seventies, making it nice enough to finally shed the winter layering. You were thankful that spring was finally coming, even though you liked winter, you were beginning to grow tired of the nipping cold. 

Nam-gyu tapped his fingers on the steering wheel along to the song, glancing over at you for a second. 

“Can you put on that one song you showed me the other day?” He asked after a song ended. 

You couldn’t help but smile a little. Never had you been with someone so open to expanding their music taste as Nam-gyu was. Usually it was you who had to just put up with whatever your exes had decided to put on, as a way to avoid hearing their complaints or jabs at how ‘stupid’ some of the songs you would put on sounded. But maybe this was what it felt like being with someone who respects you. 

The song started off with a loud melodic guitar, an Alice in Chains song that you’ve loved for years now, once embarrassed to show people in fear that they would mock it like your ex had. But when you showed Nam-gyu the band it was almost an instant love. The way their songs seemed to resonate with him on a deeper level was something you should have expected, especially when it came to his past struggles with drug abuse. 

It always fills your heart with so much joy to be able to share your love of music with others, and for Nam-gyu to enjoy it as much as he has healed you in more ways than you could have ever imagined. 

[silenzahra]

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

Ah, it feels so good to be back with a new story after so long! 😌

As I mentioned here, in this fic you will find one of my favorite topics to consume in any kind of fanwork:

✨⚡ Protective Luigi ⚡✨

I would've liked to post this story a couple of days ago to coincide with Mario and Luigi's birthday (even though the story has nothing to do with the date itself) as a way of celebrating their bond as brothers that we all love and adore so much 🥹💚❤️

Still, I'm glad I can share it now as this is one of the many fanfics I've been planning to write... for more than a year 😶

And at long last, here it is! 😄

@pepperycar @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @megamagimugi @peaches2217 @zocchini37 @itsavee4117 @multicolour-ink @dragon-fly34 @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54-gf @kelbreyworshipper @doodleydoo101 @c-lavanda and anyone else who might be interested: hope you enjoy! 💖

And as always: you can keep reading under the cut if you'd like! 👇

(Please remember that likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome 🥰)

EDIT (29-3-2025): Should've edited this post earlier to add that I wrote a second chapter for this, this one from Mario's perspective, and it can also be found on AO3! ❤️

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

TW: Blood, violence (not too much though)

Luigi doesn't like being separated from his brother.

It was hard enough having to leave him behind when he got sick to go in search of the antidote. Luigi swallows as he remembers how scared he was when he saw Mario's skin turn green after consuming that strange mushroom and how his feet practically flew to the Mushroom Kingdom embassy, carrying his twin in his arms, to take him to the princess and try to get him help.

This time, however, at least Luigi has the comfort and relief of knowing that his brother is safe, even if he’s not at his side.

The moment they came across that first barred door, Luigi immediately understood that his twin wouldn’t have a chance to follow him, that he’d have to go on alone and that Mario would have to find his own way. Luigi gave him a glance full of consternation and, for a very brief moment, his brother returned exactly the same look. Before, of course, forcing himself to hide it so as not to show discouragement in front of his little brother and, instead, give him a reassuring grin.

Luigi smiles to himself as a pleasant tenderness spreads across his chest and warms his heart. That's his big brother: always ready to appear strong and confident to protect his younger sibling and not to worry him, all with the purpose of preventing Luigi’s anxiety from getting any worse.

Looking around, Luigi puts his hands to his chest in some sort of reflex action, trying to keep the warmth that the thought of his brother brings up inside him. For, not to his luck, everything around him is ice and more ice. Joke’s End is an inhospitable, deserted, cold place. It certainly serves its purpose of functioning as a kind of graveyard for jokes, for while the other places in the Beanbean Kingdom that he and Mario have visited had much more cheerful names and were also full of life, this place is far from the mainland and, except for the monsters and that strange blue girl with the scepter that has greeted them, it’s also the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.

Luigi hugs himself as he continues looking at his surroundings with a parched throat and a sense of dread growing inside him. He’s never felt so alone in his entire life.

He only hopes that this ordeal is about to end. He followed the path marked by the place itself, hit the necessary blocks and battled alone against various monsters, despite the insecurity produced by not having his twin with him so that they could perform their combined attacks.

Not to mention the several occasions on which he’s been able to see Mario through a barred door without either of them finding a way to bridge the distance between them. All those times, Luigi has clung to the bars as if he could make them disappear in his fingers so he could finally be reunited with his brother, and Mario hasn’t hesitated to approach him and place his hands on his twin’s, gazing at him affectionately while he gave him words of encouragement and, again, smiles filled with confidence.

“Soon we'll be together, Lu,” he assured him, and Luigi could practically touch the certainty that permeated every word his brother spoke. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”

Despite his anxiety and his many insecurities, Luigi has never doubted Mario. He always believes in his promises, unquestioningly, because he knows that his twin wouldn't tell him if he didn't truly believe in them and if he wasn't willing to do everything in his power to keep them.

And he always does. Mario has never, ever failed Luigi. Not once in their entire lives.

Therefore, Luigi trusts. He trusts Mario blindly, just as he has since the day they were born, and he’ll continue to trust him until the day he dies.

So that's what keeps him going: the certitude that Mario's words will come true sooner or later. The assurance that everything his brother tells him is as true as the sun will always rise at the end of the darkest night and the light will shine again. Just as bright as Mario’s smile.

This time, whether they manage to reunite depends on a strange puzzle that, once again, they must solve by working together, even though they’re physically separated. This is not the first time, of course: when they’ve seen each other through barred doors, it’s been because they had to hit twin blocks in unison in order to activate different mechanisms, and there have even been times when they haven’t been able to see one another but have felt each other's presence through the thick walls of ice that make up Joke’s End.

As Luigi hits this last block, he hears a sound coming from outside. Both he and Mario have just crossed walkways that ran parallel to each other and converged at two different doors in the building, and they’ve helped each other to move forward until they’ve reached, at least in Luigi's case, a dead-end room. After hitting the block, Luigi retraces his steps towards the walkway he has just crossed and discovers that a frozen bridge has emerged between the two.

“Yes!”

Luigi can't and won't hold back the squeal of relief and excitement that bubbles up from his throat. Without wasting any time, he runs across the footbridge to cross to the other side and begins to follow the path that Mario must have taken. He wonders if he’ll bump into his sibling, if he too has started running, if he’s as eager as Luigi is to hold him in his arms. The smile on the younger plumber’s face widens, for he’s sure that Mario feels the same way. He’s about to join his big brother in a tight embrace, and this time, he won’t let Mario get away from him again.

Then, as he climbs up some latticed platforms, a high-pitched scream rings in his ears and is suddenly cut off.

Due to the surprise, Luigi almost stops in his tracks as he feels how the air escapes from his lungs and an icy fist grips his heart. And it has nothing to do with the cold prevailing in the place.

It only takes him a moment, however, to resume running, giving his legs more speed.

“Mario!”

He leaps over some ice blocks and manages to reach the next room. He skids across the ice when he realizes that he’s at a high location and that, to his right and left, there are two sets of steps leading down to the bottom of the room.

And down there, right in the middle, is Mario.

The blood runs cold in Luigi's veins as he discovers his brother lying on the ground, completely motionless, with traces of dirt on his clothes and a red stain crowning his forehead, his hat fallen just short of his head. With a horrified gasp, Luigi doesn't give it a second thought: he runs to the edge of the step, bends down and jumps, landing in a crouch a short distance from where Mario lays. He moves practically on all fours towards his twin, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes so wide that he thinks they'll end up popping out of their sockets.

“Mario,” he mumbles in a nervous whisper.

He carefully places a hand under Mario's head and slowly lifts him up as he slides his knees under his body to try to give him some comfort. He pulls him closer as he continues to whisper his name, but his brother does not respond. There’s blood on his neck and one of his knees, Luigi notices. Feeling the anguish growing inside him, he examines the crimson stain on Mario's forehead, as it seems to be the most serious wound. His white glove is immediately covered in red. Wheezing, Luigi raises his hand in front of his face and stares at it, blinking in awe, as if his brain is having trouble processing what his eyes are seeing.

Mario's blood coats Luigi’s fingers.

The distress that floods him begins to transform, little by little, into something different. Something that causes small sparks of electricity to sizzle around him.

It is then that he becomes aware of their presence.

Luigi blinks a little to focus his eyes, as they’re blurry, he doesn't know why, and lowers his hand without any haste. He places it protectively on Mario's chest, which, fortunately, rises and falls, evidence that he continues to breathe, albeit slowly and heavily. Luigi pulls him a little closer to himself, his hand still holding his twin's head with extreme care. His breathing is getting more and more arduous and laborious, and his cheeks are getting wet, but he’s not even aware of it.

In front of him stand three of the many monsters that plague the place. Luigi has faced several of them before, both alone and in the company of his brother, so he recognizes them immediately. A Glurp, which spews toxic clouds that have on occasion poisoned him or Mario, causing his sibling to be extremely grateful for Luigi's efforts to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. An Ice Snifit, whose spiky chunks of ice have frozen his soul and against which only his brother's Firebrand has been effective enough to eradicate its effects.

And lastly... a Clumph.

His green skin makes Luigi think of a nurse’s uniform. His purple hair reminds him of a bunch of grapes.

And finally... that huge club that he carries everywhere.

In all likelihood, this Clumph is the main reason why his big brother is lying unconscious in his arms.

Out of pure instinct, Luigi squeezes Mario a little tighter as his brow furrows. How dare that damned Clumph hurt his twin in such a way. How dare he stand there, in front of him, carrying his club on his shoulder as if he hadn't just dealt it with all his might on Mario's forehead. How dare he give him that goofy look with which he pretends to be completely innocent.

How dare he.

“How dare you,” Luigi mumbles without even being aware of it.

The particles of electricity around Luigi have increased in intensity and power. His breathing has accelerated so much that snorts escape from his mouth, and the hair on his arms has bristled under his green shirt. The plumber hears the roar of thunder, but he can’t tell where it comes from. He does take a glimpse of a glow that illuminates the place green, though. Without taking his eyes off the Clumph, Luigi reaches an arm over Mario to grab his brother’s hat and places it under his twin’s head as he lays him extremely gently on the ground. Then, taking his time, he stands up. His enemies don't miss his every move either, the Ice Snifit and Glurp ready to attack.

Luigi, however, is not going to give them the slightest chance.

His veins burn so much that he feels like he's going to explode at any moment. Rage has invaded every inch of his body and is spreading through his nerve endings like a thunderstorm that threatens to burst and destroy him in the process.

Luigi is more than willing to let it out.

He can't remember ever feeling this way, either before or after acquiring his Thunderhand, but he's not going to hold back. These enemies dared to touch his brother. They dared to attack him when Luigi was finally on his way to reunite with him. They dared to inflict Mario a wound that has robbed him of consciousness. They dared to spill his blood.

It will be the last thing they will do in their lives.

Anger controls his every move when Luigi unhurriedly steps over Mario's body and walks heavily towards his rivals, as if he were nothing more than a puppet in the hands of the strongest wrath. Although they try to look determined and ready to fight, the monsters sense the aura that surrounds Luigi, the aura of someone who is willing to do anything to get revenge, the aura of someone who will stop at nothing to protect what is most precious to him in the world.

An electrical aura that brings thunder at lightning in its wake.

As he walks, Luigi clenches his fists at his sides and rebellious sparks escape from them. He feels that both his mustache and his hair under his hat have bristled, and his cheeks are now so dampened that he feels them cold, but he doesn't care. He continues to move, his breathing harsh and uneasy, his heart pounding in his chest, and he feels an unexpected surge of satisfaction sweep over him when he realizes that his enemies, cornered, have bumped into the icy wall of the building surrounding them.

They have no escape.

Luigi's fury, on the other hand, does.

Growling under his breath, the plumber closes his eyes and allows the energy pulsing in his veins to take complete control.

His arms rise up, his palms pointing towards his enemies. Electricity courses through his body, surging from deep within him and rushing to his hands. Against all odds, a sense of warm calm invades Luigi as he feels his electric magic dance up and down, flooding every inch of his body, reaching every corner of his essence and causing a fleeting smile to play across his lips.

He has never felt so powerful.

Before the first streak bursts from Luigi's fingertips, his eyelids part, but there’s no trace of pupil in his gaze.

There’s only room for electricity.

Luigi's eyes are entirely white as his power begins, at last, to be released. Jets of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, emerge from his hands, lethal, deadly, and it takes Luigi a moment to realize that he’s begun to emit a low snarl that, gradually, turns into a scream with which he frees all the emotions that boil inside him. The fear of losing his brother. The rage for what they’ve done to him. The thirst for revenge, which had never before blinded him so much.

In fact, Luigi realizes that everything he sees is white. An immaculate white, dotted with sizzling green and blue flashes, which prevent him from checking what his magic is doing, what his hands are causing. Nor is he able to perceive any sound, as if his ears were underwater, in a completely silent limbo that has cut him off from the outside world.

However, he quickly decides that he doesn't care. He doesn't care, because he feels invincible. He’s filled with fierce drive that fuels his power and begs him to go on, to not stop, to continue giving it free rein. The euphoria of the moment is so strong that it becomes addictive, something Luigi clings to with all his might.

It's all for his brother.

Mario deserves that and more. Mario deserves the whole world.

Despite Luigi’s blindness, which, he hopes, is temporary, the image of his twin appears clearly in front of him. His beloved Mario, always so cheerful and smiling, always ready to fight for those he loves, always ready for battle. Always determined to protect Luigi and spare him all harm, but also full of unshakable faith in his little sibling.

A faith that has always been Luigi's driving force throughout his entire life.

If it were not for Mario, Luigi simply wouldn’t believe in himself. If it were not for Mario, Luigi wouldn’t have learned to fight, both for himself and for those he loves. If it were not for Mario, Luigi would not be who he is today.

If it weren't for Mario, Luigi wouldn't be here right now.

So he's not going to give up. He’ll continue to defend his brother the same way Mario has always defended him. He won't let those damn monsters get close to his sibling again. He won't let them get a chance to hurt him again.

He won't let them get away with it.

However, as he unleashes all his power and his unstoppable energy travels through his body and gushes from his hands, Luigi empties himself. He empties himself of the fear of losing Mario forever. He empties himself of all his anger, of all his resentment against the beings who have dared to harm his twin. He empties himself of all his thirst for revenge.

And he empties himself, also, of his electric magic.

Which carries with it a great part of his vitality.

Luigi blinks several times as the sparks around his vision begin to dim and the blinding white gradually fades. Before he can see anything, however, he notices his knees hit the icy ground, his legs unable to support him, and he begins to become aware of the noisy panting he’s emitting. He closes his eyes again and squeezes his eyelids tightly shut as he brings a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart and regulate his rapid breathing. His entire body trembles violently, and he continues to see sparks, only, this time, there’s no trace of those green and blue flashes in them. All he sees is blackness and darkness.

A darkness so enveloping that it threatens to drag him into the deepest and most absolute unconsciousness.

Despite his exhaustion, Luigi can’t afford to faint now. This is no time to rest. He has to check what has happened while he was in that kind of electric trance, what has become of his enemies. He has to check in on Mario.

His brother needs him.

But the darkness is so tempting... What if he only lets himself be dragged along for a moment? Just enough to rest and regain his strength. Besides, his eyes are already closed. What's the difference if—?

“Lu?”

Luigi's eyelids flutter open as he lifts his head with a jerk. He only takes a moment to gaze at the frozen wall in front of him, empty, which makes him imagine that the monsters must have fled, frightened by the fierceness of his power.

But that’s not important now.

His head turns at lightning speed as he compels his exhausted limbs to move. In the midst of his wheezing, a wide grin blooms on his face as his eyes meet another pair, of the same limpid blue, gazing up at him in awe.

“Mario!” he exclaims.

Not wanting to waste any time, he propels himself onto the icy ground to stand up, only to drop to his knees again two seconds later, this time next to Mario. His brother watches him with half-opened eyes and a tired smile glistening on his lips as well. Luigi places a hand in his sibling’s hair, careful not to touch his wound so as not to hurt him more, and his heart fills with joy as he notices how his twin reaches for his hand.

When their fingers intertwine, they join with a force more sweeping than that of a hurricane and more intense than that of the most devastating thunderstorm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was it you?”

The brothers share a few knowing laughs when they realize that they’ve spoken at the same time. They look at each other fondly, amused, and Luigi, feeling his heart calm at last, gladly gives the floor to his twin.

“I'm a little dizzy,” Mario confesses, his voice a faint murmur. “It hurts...”

He attempts to bring his free hand to his forehead, but Luigi gently restrains him.

“Don't touch it,” he asks, concerned. “You’re wounded, but I'm sure this will help.”

He begins to rummage in his pockets without letting go of his brother's fingers. He doesn't notice that his twin can’t take his eyes off him.

“Was it you, Luigi?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asks, pulling the fabric of his right pocket to try to get a glimpse of its contents.

“The electric shock,” says Mario. “I woke up and saw... Lightning bolts. Electricity. Blue... Green. And... I heard thunder.”

Luigi notices that his brother struggles to speak. Stressed, he begins to rummage in the chest pocket of his overalls, ignoring the fact that he feels exhausted too. Where the heck did he put them?

“Luigi.”

His twin's voice, tinged with a certain urgency, as well as the squeeze he gives his hand, cause Luigi to finally look up. He’s speechless when he notices the fixed, penetrating glance, bursting with curiosity, that Mario is giving him. He can’t help but be slightly startled and even blush, and immediately resumes his search.

“I-I don't know what happened,” he mumbles nervously, and he’s not lying.

“Lu, did you...?” Mario takes a few seconds to ask his question. “Did you just unleash a thunderstorm?”

As his fingers finally grab the 1-UP Super he was looking for, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

The truth is that he has no idea what just happened. He only knows that several emotions swirled inside him the moment he saw Mario's blood staining his glove red, and that he experienced them in a more overwhelming and powerful way than ever before. He’s never felt that fire in his chest, that tingling in his arms, that sensation of being unstoppable that has taken over his soul and has demanded to gush from his hands with more force than ever.

Luigi had no clue he was capable of such a thing.

“Lu?”

Mario's voice urges him to open his eyes again. His heart shrinks in his chest as soon as he notices the lingering worry in his brother's eyes, not yet completely lucid, but enough to be worried by his silence. Luigi tries to smile and shrugs as he holds out the mushroom.

“It's nothing,” he assures his twin. “I'm fine, but you're not. Eat this.”

“Luigi.” Mario lifts his other hand to push away the shroom. “Tell me what happened. Please. What did I see?”

Luigi will never cease to be amazed that his brother, even with a bleeding wound on his forehead, can still display his innate strength. He knows Mario too well to know that he will never give up, that he’d still want to talk to him about what happened even if he were on the verge of unconsciousness. So, defeated, Luigi offers him a deal.

“Eat this,” he repeats, “and we’ll talk about it.”

Fortunately, his suggestion seems to appease Mario. After watching him for a few seconds, his brother eventually lowers his hand and allows Luigi to give him the 1-UP Super. Luigi knows how much his sibling dislikes the taste of mushrooms, but by now Mario has learned to tolerate it: he closes his eyes and swallows them almost all at once, and always lets out a little whimper of protest that warms Luigi's heart. Mario may be his older brother, he may be the bravest and most capable person he knows, he may have always protected him since they were little, but in some ways he still reminds him of a child.

And yet Luigi admires his sibling for being able to eat something he doesn't like. He struggles every time.

Within seconds, Mario's wound begins to heal. Luigi watches, dumbfounded, as the blood recedes and the skin practically regenerates, eliciting a small grunt from Mario that causes Luigi to squeeze his hand and stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him. His brother purses his lips as he squeezes back, and Luigi smiles as he witnesses Mario trying to contain the pain and not show himself vulnerable despite the fact that, here and now, it's just the two of them.

To Mario's relief, the shroom soon completes its magic. With his forehead completely healed, Mario opens his eyes, once again glowing with his distinctive energy and vitality, and rests them on his twin. Luigi, however, is so relieved to finally see his older brother safe and sound that, as soon as he begins to sit up, Luigi throws his arms around Mario’s neck.

He doesn't even realize that he’s started to cry until he tries to speak and the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so.

Mario's laughter is like a balm that warms his heart. His brother laughs fondly and puts an arm around Luigi while he raises his other hand to pat him affectionately on his head. Still hugging him, Luigi smiles, and a strangled chuckle escapes his system as he swallows to try to quiet his crying.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Mario whispers.

He presses his cheek against Luigi's and Luigi closes his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. There's no telling where his smile ends and Mario's begins. He could stay like this forever, clinging to his sibling and feeling his twin's arms around him, providing him with a warmth more intense and comforting than that of the most blazing fire as they protect each other from any evil coming from the outside world.

Luigi needs nothing else to live.

After a few seconds, Luigi notices that his brother tries to pull apart from him to look him in the eye, but the younger plumber finds himself unable to stand up straight. His whole body feels strangely limp, as if it didn’t belong to him, and it’s impossible for him to do something as simple as opening his eyes.

Luigi then realizes that the fatigue caused by the force with which his electric magic has emerged from his body is causing the upper part of his body to slip to Joke’s End’s cold, icy floor, as both him and Mario are still on his knees, and he finds himself unable to break his fall. Mario's voice, full of alarm at his little brother’s condition, reaches Luigi’s ears muffled, and he just can’t make out his twin’s words. He does feel how Mario holds him tightly with one arm, trying to ground him, and Luigi finds himself clinging to him with what little strength he has left in his body. He rests his head on his twin's shoulder while he closes his eyelids, just for an instant, to rest for five minutes, nothing more.

For this reason he’s unable to resist when he notices that Mario brings something to his lips. Without hesitating, Luigi opens his mouth and allows his brother to give him what the green clad plumber immediately distinguishes as a 1-UP Super. He’s barely swallowed it when he begins to feel its effects: a small spark of energy springs up in his heart and starts to spread through his body in slow but intense waves, finally giving him back the vitality that the magnitude of his power had taken from him. Soon he’s aware of how Mario's arms support him while, in Italian, his brother whispers soft words of encouragement, waiting for the shroom to take effect with the little patience that Luigi knows his sibling has, but which he always displays when it comes to him.

Luigi lets out a small moan as he regains control of his body, holding on to Mario's shoulders to slowly sit up. He immediately hears his twin greet him as if he had just woken up, which, in fact, is not far from the truth.

“Hey,” Mario says softly, his tone full of gentleness. “Can you hear me, Lu? How are you feeling?”

Luigi notices Mario's fingers cupping his cheek and can practically feel the concern that tinges his voice. Still clinging to his twin's shoulders, Luigi hastens to smile, looking at him, and nods, wishing he could wipe all traces of worry from Mario's blue eyes in one fell swoop.

“I feel wonderful,” he declares.

His tone must be more convincing than he thought, because, in front of him, Mario's face begins to calm down: his frown relaxes, his eyes recover their usual spark, and a smile blooms on his lips that mirrors Luigi's, as if his brother were an earthly representation of the sun and he, the moon that feeds on his glow.

“Thank goodness,” Mario replies, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

Both his voice and his face are brimming with relief. Luigi instinctively closes his eyes the instant he notices how his twin begins to tilt his head towards him. Warmness bursts in his chest as his forehead meets his brother's, and the smile that spreads across his face at the contact is wide, serene and placid. Despite the ice that surrounds them, despite the coldness that reigns in the place where they are, far from any trace of civilization, Luigi could almost swear that never before, in all his life, has he felt more wrapped up in the warmth provided by the mere presence of his older brother.

When, seconds later, the twins separate, they give each other wide and calm smiles, both filled with joy at being together again. Mario's expression, though, gradually turns into one full of curiosity.

“So...” he says before patting Luigi's back again. “It was a thunderstorm, right?”

Luigi can't help but cringe a little. How is he going to tell Mario about something he doesn't even know how it happened? In fact... should he? What if his brother starts to see him in a different light? What if...?

What if Mario stops loving him?

“W-well...”

He doesn't realize that he's started to fiddle with his hands, as he usually does whenever he's nervous, until he feels Mario's palm, warm and pleasant, resting on his fingers before gently squeezing them. Raising his head, Luigi meets the equally sweet and affectionate gaze of his brother, radiant with all the love he feels for him.

The sight is more than enough to soothe Luigi’s racing thoughts.

“Lulu,” Mario says, still smiling, “you don’t have to be ashamed. What you did was amazing!” he exclaims, chuckling smoothly as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “You unleashed a thunderstorm all by yourself, little brother. Do you realize how incredibly powerful you are?”

Luigi stares at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to process the reality of his twin's words.

Or, he corrects himself, trying to process the fact that Mario doesn't seem at all horrified by what his younger sibling just did.

“In fact,” Mario continues before Luigi manages to come up with a response, “you're so powerful, Luigi, that not only did you get me to wake up even though I had just been hit in my head, but you made the monsters run away. Or at least,” he adds as he looks to and fro, “I don't see them anywhere.”

Looking at Luigi again, Mario winks at him as he holds both of his brother's hands in his, Luigi's fingers resting on his left palm while his right continues to tap him lightly. Luigi blinks slowly and closes his mouth at last, for he wasn't even aware of having it wide open. A shy smile begins to bloom on his lips.

“They fled like cowards in the face of the bravery and courage of my mighty little brother,” Mario then says, imprinting his voice with a proud tone that causes Luigi's smile to widen and his cheeks to start burning. “Do you hear me, monsters?” Mario suddenly shouts, turning again to one side and the other, and grabs Luigi's wrist with his right hand to raise his younger sibling’s arm in the air. “Don't even think of coming closer if you don't want to suffer the wrath of the Green Thunder!”

Luigi can't contain the laughter that escapes from the depths of his soul at the nickname his brother has just bestowed upon him, as well as his enthusiasm when boasting about him and the vigor with which he shakes Luigi’s arm. Luigi doubts that any monster is going to be scared by that, but, maybe, just maybe, what he just did is not... bad. Maybe his power has gotten out of his control, but, after all, he hasn't caused any harm.

And, besides, he’s achieved his purpose: to keep those monsters away from his big brother and prevent them from ever having a chance to harm him again.

When his laughter starts to fade, he notices that Mario was laughing too. Now he looks at Luigi with eyes sparkling with affection, and the younger plumber returns a radiant smile that he hopes will convey the same feeling to his brother. Seizing the fact that he’s still holding him by one hand, Mario begins to pull him up and they both stand up at the same time. Mario, however, doesn’t let go.

“Thank you for protecting me, Lu,” he says heartily, giving his fingers a little squeeze.

Luigi can't help blushing and massages the back of his neck with his other hand.

“You always protect me,” he replies, shrugging, “and besides, I don't even know what I did...”

“What do you mean?” Mario sounds both intrigued and confused.

“W-well...” Luigi takes a few seconds to try to find the right words. “I don't know what happened, Mario,” he declares, looking him in the eyes. “I just know that I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and...” He sighs, looking away again. “My Thunderhand took control. I didn't even know it was capable of creating a thunderstorm,” he admits, dejected.

Luigi drops his shoulders and massages his arm with his free hand. Mario still holds his other hand, but Luigi senses that it's only a matter of time before his brother lets go and walks away. Surely he doesn't admire him so much anymore. Surely he doesn't see him in the same way anymore. Surely...

“Then,” Mario's voice interrupts the torrent of his thoughts, and a new squeeze on his fingers causes Luigi to turn to him once more. Mario's warm smile disarms him completely. “Maybe we can find a way together that you can do this while maintaining control.”

At first, Luigi isn't sure he fully understands what his twin is referring to. It takes a while for his brain to register what his twin means: that Luigi should learn how to be in control in case he needs, or wants to, create another thunderstorm in the future.

It hadn't occurred to him that there might be a way.

“You’ll see how they will call you Green Thunder then,” Mario adds, amused, and gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

Luigi chuckles at his joke, and an idea suddenly comes to his mind.

“Do you think you could do something like that with your Firebrand too?” he asks, curious.

This time it's Mario who stares at him dumbfounded.

“Well... I hadn’t thought about it,” he admits, putting his hand to his chin and tapping his finger pensively.

“Then that’s one more thing we have to research,” Luigi suggests, suddenly filled with a determination that only Mario could have infected him with. “What do you think, big bro?”

“Fair enough, little bro” nods his sibling, giving him another wink.

With no need for words, the two break contact in unison, only to raise their arms and high five. Luigi laughs, feeling not only relieved that Mario still loves him the same way, but pleased that they’re going to further investigate both his electrical power and his twin's igneous magic. He hopes to come up with an appropriate nickname for Mario and his Firebrand in the process.

“I guess we'll have to get out of here first,” Mario adds jokingly. “Let’s-a go!”

“Okie-dokie!”

And, together again, they set off.

[ckret2]

Ages ago I made a post about what Ford thinks about Bill (in a billford context), and I've had an infodump on what Bill thinks about Ford floating on discord for months, and an ask finally prompted me to post it, so here ya go:

If asked why he likes Ford, Bill himself claims that Ford overthinks everything, but in such fun, interesting ways, and Bill likes the way Ford thinks about things.

But really, Bill overthinks everything too; it's just he overthinks social things. He's always calculating how to persuade, control, manipulate people. He never has a conversation that isn't a chess game, it's exhausting and he won't even admit it's exhausting. When's the last time his top priorities weren't either "how do I convince some sucker to make a portal" or "ugggh I'm so SICK of the PORTAL I'm gonna THROW A PARTY and NOT THINK AT ALL"

Whereas Ford is guy who'd hear someone say something incorrect and bluntly go "no you're wrong" and accidentally offend the hell out of them because he's SO excited to share this fantastic information they don't know. The social world DOES NOT EXIST for him until he's reminded of it.

And so he's free to turn all his brainpower instead to. Like. The environmental impact of barf fairies on fern fertilizer or whatever.

Bill knows Everything™ but he's gotten tired of doing anything with that knowledge. They're all discrete points of information to him. He doesn't have time to muse over things, he's got an inventor to manipulate at 11pm and then a party to get to at midnight. He's never once in his life thought about the impact of barf fairies on the local flora. But he does happen to know the plants in that part of the woods are more acid-resistant and wow is that why???? He's never even thought to think about that before. Thousand year mystery that Bill didn't even notice has been solved.

(On the other hand "Ford doesn't think to think about the intricacies of social interaction" is also part of what makes him so easy to manipulate, he's so much more inclined to just accept at face value a friendly offer of assistance on a big academic project. Sure Bill's helping for the sake of scientific advancement in and of itself, why wouldn't he?)

Bill wants to just, fling random facts at Ford and see if he can think up connections between them. Go nerd boy go nerd boy go

"... So there you have it Ford, that's the problem you'll have to overcome with adapting alien machinery to human fuel sources, now I wanna hear YOUR thoughts on how to overcome that problem." "Well—" talks in an uninterrupted stream that by thirty minutes in has drifted over to the history of kerosene production, which he read an interesting book about between semesters in college— "... I've gotten off topic, haven't I?" "No no, I think you're on to something. This is how brainstorming works, free association of concepts. Keep going."

Ford in the morning: "... oh no I didn't let my muse get a word in edgewise for the rest of the dream, i didn't bore him did I?" Bill: "damn, I never noticed the patent process for hurricane lamps was so contentious. There's little dramas everywhere"

When things are going well, their relationship is,

Ford: "I just wanna hear Bill teach me things about the multiverse forever."

Bill: "I just wanna hear Ford think deeply on any topic that crosses his mind forever."

Both of them when they're in peak harmony: excitedly jabbering at each other at 200 words per minute about the stupidest topic you've ever heard, but you'd need a phd in at least two fields to comprehend it

That's love!!!

Ford, having historically been socially shamed: "... am I being weird?"

Bill: "💕❤️💓yeah❣️💖❤️‍🔥"

Sometimes I think about Bill watching Ford in his sleep and being in awe at this human-shaped genius: you with your beautiful electric mind, packed into this soft flawed uneven body. one would never know it from the outside—but you're in there. This genius with a mind like a galaxy. ... and he's like, growing hair and stuff. wild.

[a-d-nox]

what your tarot deck thinks about the place you are living

grab your tarot deck! ask your deck "what do i need to know about my home?" below are some ideas of what the cards you get could mean.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

the fool

first time home owner and/or going without an inspection or walkthrough (site-unseen buying)

the magician

fixer-upper and/or in need of repair

the empress

fertile ground and/or having a good foundation

the emperor

you definitely need to get an inspection and/or a picky/tricky seller (needing to be aggressive with bidding)

the hierophant

seek financial counseling, to seek with your realtor more seriously, and/or needing to call in a specialist

the chariot

get ready to move

the hermit

the house is older; you might want to look at foundation, electrical, and/or insulation

death

remodeling

the devil

definitely look at electrical and ac/heating elements (duct cleaning may be needed) - or even the dryer vent

the tower

this is a tear down and start from scratch project

the star

PLEASE look into your plumbing...

judgment

you might be in over your head with the cost of where you live; its time to move to somewhere a bit more sustainable

3 of cups

house warming

3 of cups rx

a controlling HOA and/or noisy/gossipy neighbors

4 of cups

having a lot of big ideas for what you want your house to be and look like, but not taking the action needed for it to get to that vision

5 of cup

money pit house that makes you feel disappointed/depressed

2 of pentacles rx

not having enough time for everything you want to accomplish with the house between life, job, and house renovations

3 of pentacles

talking with architects, someone who does custom building, and/or who an interior designer

4 of pentacles

having a lot of clutter and/or hoarding that damages the house

5 of pentacles

needing better insulation and/or to upgrade windows (plastic wrap in winter or something)

7 of pentacles rx

not working towards your vision in terms of housing expectations

ace of swords

making an offer on a house

2 of swords

having to make a difficult decision about what project to focus on

5 of swords

disagreeing with your family about what should happen with a project and having an argument

6 of swords

needing flood insurance

7 of swords

taking pieces from old projects or from what already exists

2 of wands

putting in an add-on

7 of wands

the place as a lot of unforeseen issues

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button!

return to nox's guide to metaphysics

return to the masterlist of tarot

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[magicalbats]

Glory in Wrath

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 11,197

Warnings: Afab!reader, incest (half siblings), stalking, panty stealing/sniffing, premature ejaculation, femdom, high heels, cock stepping, dry humping, pussy job, just the tip, excessive orgasms, sex work, reader isn't really a prostitute but more like a professional dominatrix 🤭

A/N: This is the first comm from the current batch and I'm honestly so, so happy the lovely @reideux brought me this project! I had a lot of fun working on this as an appreciator of dominant women making proud men snivel, and also as someone who has been lucky enough to have their support for such a long time. 🥹 Thank you again for always reading and commenting on my fics, Rei. It really does mean the world to me!

⭐

He watches. He observes. And you notice nothing. 

Just as it should be, just as it was always meant to be.

Some would call it fate or destiny. 

He preferred to think of it like a hero’s curse. 

Hugo is a creature of the night and encroaching shadows, more at home shrouded in darkness than bathed in the light of day. The world of the waking has always felt like some place he did not belong though, something he wasn’t privileged enough to be a part of or worthy of calling his own. But as far as midnight wraiths go … well, he was perfectly in his element there. 

“I think it’ll go off without a hitch so I wouldn’t dwell on it much. You know how untouchable these rich and powerful types like to think themselves.” Vivian drawls into his ear through the wireless bud, sounding largely disinterested in the topic at hand. Likely painting her nails or applying a face mask at home, if he had to guess. “By the way, where are you?”

“Oh, just out for a little late night stroll, that’s all. I thought some fresh air might do me some good.”

She hums a noncommittal sound at that, clearly willing to accept his answer at face value. 

Still though, there’s some faint edge of curiosity in her voice that seems to suggest she’d noticed how many of these walks in the middle of the night he’s been taking as of late. Oh, well. There wasn’t much he could do about that. 

Leaned back against the rough brick wall of a butcher's shop, he looks out over the road at the apartment complex in front of him. A few windows are lit up from within by the warm cast of electric bulbs to allow any nosy passersby a brief glimpse into the lives of the strangers inside. Some are covered with blinds or shades, their occupants much more reticent to share their private moments at home with unwanted interlopers, while others were darkened out, either already in bed for the evening or still out and about. 

Of the few that were left wide open there are a number of different scenes playing out before him that Hugo could choose to focus on. A  family of three sitting down to eat, a shameless bachelor jerking off to porn on his computer, an old woman putzing over the stove — but it’s only one window that has his full and undivided attention. 

You’ve just finished up your dinner and are now going through the motions of cleaning up after yourself, entirely oblivious to his presence outside as you carry the dishes to the sink to be washed. It was impressively self-sufficient for a member of the Ravenlock family, if he did say so himself. 

Except you weren’t really a part of that noble family, were you? Poor thing. 

“You know,” Vivian says with practiced nonchalance. “There’s a new art exhibit opening up in Lumina Square next weekend. I was thinking maybe we could go check it out together, if you were interested.” 

“Mmm, and what, pray tell, is going to be there that’s caught your attention? You’re not usually one for stuffy exhibitions.” He murmurs, earning a faint scoff from the girl even as he continues to watch you through the window. Nothing could ever hope to tear his attention away from the singular object of his obsession though, not even dear Vivian. 

“That’s not true and you know it, Hugo. I just … I heard some rumors, that’s all. That the art broker hosting the event is on the shady side. Something about stolen heirlooms or something.” 

Putting his head to one side, the Phantom Thief considers that for a brief moment. It was certainly a good thing he could multitask. He would’ve been beside himself if he’d missed the way your t-shirt rides up to expose a tantalizing strip of your belly when you reach overhead to put away a bowl in the cupboard. It was easily enough to distract him from anything else but what Vivian was saying also had his interest too … 

“Why don’t you send me his name and I’ll do a little digging on this end when I get back home. If he’s the sort of person who would take precious heirlooms from those less fortunate, well, it would be remiss of us not to make an appearance, wouldn’t you agree?” 

But he couldn’t do it right this moment. Not when he was much too focused on you, entirely unawares and naive to his laser focused attention, and oh so very ripe for the taking. 

Hugo had done all the research. Uncovered every stone and tracked every possible lead no matter how small it may have been in his tireless pursuit of tracking down every known Ravenlock. Even distant cousins and uncles hadn’t been far removed enough to avoid the brunt of his scrutiny, though most of them were unknowingly lucky enough not to draw his vengeful ire when they weren’t close enough to the center of the family tree to matter much in the grand scheme of things. He still liked to keep tabs on all of the moving chess pieces regardless. But you, on the other hand, were much too closely related to the source, that damnable wellspring in the bloodline, to escape his sights. 

His sister. Younger by three years and only half related, but a direct product of that hateful bastard he called a father nonetheless. You’d been practically a babe when he killed one of his siblings in cold blood and evidently too far down the hierarchal line to be considered for the position of heir, because he’d never met you before. Not face to face, anyway. Not yet. 

And although he’s never spoken to you to confirm this Hugo is relatively certain you have no clue he ever even existed in the first place, which suited his purposes just fine. You’d been cast off and thrown away, excommunicated from the family shortly after his own time with the Ravenlocks came to an end. For this reason you were technically innocent and his call for revenge was more than just a bit misguided when directed at you. But that didn’t change the blood in your veins or the fact of whose loins you’d been conceived from. You were a direct progeny of the Ravenlock’s regardless which meant, on some level, you still had to pay. 

Perhaps not with your life, no, but there were other, equally important things he could take from you instead. 

Mismatched eyes twinkling sharply in the dark, Hugo watches you meander from one side of the kitchen to the other to deposit something into the garbage. Your apartment is on the third floor to give the impression that you were safely out of reach up there, and lucky for him you don’t seem to have any presence of mind to close the curtains to block him out. He’d been looking at you from afar for quite some time now so he was intimately familiar with your routine. After cleaning up from your meal you’d start to get ready for bed, just like clockwork. 

A smirk tugs at his mouth in the shadows when you move to do just that, such a creature of habit that you don’t deviate from the worn path even now. He follows you with his gaze while you make your way out of the kitchen and further into the apartment where he eventually loses sight of you. That was alright though. There would be plenty of time for him to admire you in the coming days, weeks, months. Perhaps even years, if he decided to drag it out for that long. 

“I have to go now, Vivian. I’ll keep you updated on anything I find out and we’ll plan our next move from there.”

“Alright. Have a goodnight, Hugo.”

“Goodnight, little love. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

The line disconnects with a small beep and Hugo pushes off from the wall, confidently sauntering across the street to come up alongside the apartment complex. No one even notices him at this time of night to question his presence there as he makes his way further down to the fire escape at the corner of the building. A quick jump and the powerful flex of his arms to haul himself up quickly has him making nimble work of the steel enforced stairs leading up, up, up to the third floor where he’s then able to silently creep along the platform until he reaches the end of it. From there it’s an all too simple matter of stretching his long legs out to find footing along the closest ledge, going from window to window as quick and unseen as any passing ghoul, until he at last reaches the entrance to your humble abode. 

He’s done this about a dozen times now, and just like every other instance he does not find the windowsill locked when he tests it. You really had no idea you were being haunted by a vengeful spirit from your past … or perhaps hunted was the better word. 

Feeling rather pleased with himself, Hugo quietly eases the window up so he can slip inside, climbing carefully over the counter to plant his expensive shoes on the tile flooring before turning to shut the entry point. Didn’t need to let a draft and whatever else in while he was here. Mosquitos were particularly bad this year and he’d already long decided that if anyone was going to be feasting on your blood it would be him. 

The apartment he now stands in is perfectly still yet comfortable with the feeling of being lived in and occupied. He can hear the shower running in the bathroom as he moves deeper inside, catching a glimpse of wafting steam coming out from under the closed door when he steps into the short hall. You would be in there for at least another twenty minutes or so, which gave him plenty of time to do what he’d set out to accomplish. 

Further he skulks, making sure to tread lightly as he makes his way up to your bedroom door. Left ajar, all he has to do is nudge it open and it swings wide to grant him entry. The smell of you immediately overwhelms his senses as he steps inside, pausing there just over the threshold to take in this space. 

It’s virtually unchanged since the last time he invaded your privacy like this, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to commit it all to memory again. Your untidy bed which you never bothered to make as far as he could tell, the small collection of plush animals and knickknacks dotting the corners of the room, your best clothes hung up on a dainty rack against the wall. They were altogether humble furnishings for someone with such esteemed family ties but still quaint. Cozy even. 

A very real part of him wanted to take a match to it and burn it all to the ground. 

But he's not actually going to do that, of course. Hugo had other plans for you, much grander ideas that were far more fitting for a member of the once esteemed Ravenlock family, making do instead with shuffling over to the laundry basket near the foot of your bed. Here he bends down to quickly rifle through the clothes awaiting wash day until he finds a used pair of your underwear. Hooking a finger into the band, he holds it up to inspect the garment in the column of light coming in from the hallway. Cotton with soft lace details, two little faux buttons on the front to give it a girlish charm. They were certainly cute. And he couldn’t wait to defile them, to destroy that laughable guise of innocence they represented. 

Giving his wrist a quick flick, he gathers the panties in his palm and balls them up, shoving them down into the pocket of his slacks. He takes a moment to ensure the laundry hamper looked untouched just as it did when he’d first entered before taking his leave. The bedroom door is carefully nudged halfway shut again, then he’s making his way back towards the kitchen.

He can’t quite stop himself from slowing to a stop in front of the bathroom on his way out though, bending his head close to the crack in the woodwork to listen. You’re singing some radio tune or another very softly, likely so as not to have it bleed through the walls and disturb your neighbor, but he finds it’s a lovely sound regardless. If they’d known back then that you would grow up to have such a pleasing voice perhaps the Ravenlock’s would not have been quite so eager to toss you aside. It was certainly unfortunate for you, yes, but undeniably fortuitous for him. 

Because what should have been nothing more than a passing interest for a sister he’d never known in his search for revenge had already morphed into something much more akin to twisted fascination. He couldn’t have pinpointed the exact moment even if he’d wanted to, but Hugo knew it had happened somewhat recently. Maybe it was the first time he’d snuck into your apartment, telling himself he just wanted to better know you and the life you’ve lived as an outcast, not unlike his own existence in a way. Or maybe it was when he’d taken the first pair of panties in an impulsive rush that had left him running so damn hot and throbbing that he’d barely made it back to his own studio apartment on the other side of town before succumbing to it. The aftermath of that incident had only seemed to solidify his almost fanatically growing fixation with you, turning it into something tangible and real. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d shot off so hard as to leave him feeling lightheaded and dizzy with relief, as if the sick reality of what he’d done had only made it all the more gratifying. 

The when and the how didn’t really matter though, he supposed. He was already in this deep and you were still ignorant of his schemes. You’d been perplexed by your missing underwear, no doubt about that, but you still don’t suspect a thing given the window you continued to leave unlocked even now. Of course you wouldn’t automatically jump to the conclusion that someone was stalking you but did you suspect? Did you wonder? And to think that someone was your own half brother … 

It’s devious in its cruelty, this petty attack on your person, but he isn’t going to stop. He can’t. Not anymore, not when the line had already been crossed and there was no going back from it at this point. 

Reluctantly, he forces himself back into motion and quickly exits the way he came in, through the window in the kitchen. Back down the fire escape and across the street, he lets muscle memory steer him through the city along a number of roads that he hardly even recognizes when his mind is reeling with the potent rush of dopamine straight to his brain. All of New Eridu seems to pass him in a blur while he winds his way home, eagerly twitching in his pants the whole time with your stolen panties sitting bunched in his pocket like a weighty reminder. He’s even only distantly aware of fishing his keys out to unlock the front door of his studio some forty five minutes later, panting softly under his breath in his excitement. 

Taking off his hat and shrugging out of his coat, he quickly tosses them aside over a chair in the foyer before digging down into his slacks to retrieve his prize. At the same time he meanders deeper into the spacious apartment — much roomier and nicer than yours, of course — as if he were in a trance. In fact, Hugo is certain he must be. It was the only thing that could conceivably explain this behavior or this driving urge to destroy you so completely. 

Groaning a soft, threadbare little sound, he brings his hand up with the pilfered treasure resting in his palm and shoves his face into it. A deep, faltering inhale has the lingering scent of your pussy swarming his olfactory system in a potent rush. His cock, which had persistently remained half hard despite his attempts to will it away during the trek home, now roars to life with keen intensity, springing up to shove at the inner placket of his pants. His self control was usually better than this but he can’t quite seem to rein it in when you smelled so good, tasted so damn good, and he stiffly nudges his opposite hand around to press down on that seeking, demanding tent. 

He practically smothers himself with your underwear while he savoringly grinds the heel of his hand down on his cock, hips rolling into the motion with a stuttering swivel. His body aches fiercely for you; for all that you represent and all that you are, a trophy for him to lay claim to and destroy at his own leisure. It’s not very polite or genteel of him; no, no, certainly not. But oh, how he craved to tear into you and render you to pieces. Even knowing you were just as much a victim of the Ravenlock’s as he is wasn’t nearly enough to douse his deep seated hatred for you. 

That must be what makes this so damn satisfying, he thinks to himself as he unfurls his tongue from his mouth to take a long, savory swipe down the center line of your underwear. The flavor of you erupts along his tastebuds, eliciting another groan from him while his eyes start to roll back in his head. It’s that sharp, chaotic feeling of pure and utter loathing that seems to be fueling this lust for you. 

To have you and to claim you would be to ruin you; mind, body and soul alike. You would be as good as a pariah shunned for their mere existence and forever tainted as a brother fucker, defiled by your own kin if he had his way. It wouldn’t affect him much in the long run but you, oh, you would never be able to escape that scarlet letter he’ll brand into your skin. 

Hugo’s stomach clenches painfully tight at that thought and his chest hitches, stuttering on a gasp that catches in his throat. He’s cumming before he even realizes how dangerously close he’d been toeing that edge, before he can even fumble his pants open and fist his cock out, but it’s much too late now. All he can do is stiffly shudder with the spasms, seething softly through his teeth at the warm, sticky sensation of his spend coating the inside of his underwear while he clutches himself through his pants. 

He’s positively coated in the clinging mess by the time his cock stops pumping, and he heaves a tortured sound as he lets his arms drop boneless to his sides. Slouching slightly with the languid ease that always comes in the hazy afterglow of orgasm, he shifts back on his heels to look down and regard himself. These pants were going to have to be dry cleaned. Great. 

The only silver lining is that at least this had saved your panties from a similar fate, which meant he wouldn’t have to pilfer another pair quite so soon. Still though … 

Hugo allows his mind to drift back to what had made him bust like that, wandering in the direction of his spacious bathroom to change out of his soiled clothes. A scarlet letter, huh? That was quite the idea. And a rather novel and tempting one, at that. But he didn’t see much appeal in forcing himself on you, reluctant to stoop to such low and uncouth methods even when he was willing to do just about everything else. Where was the fun in it if you didn’t come to him willingly? He was going to have to talk to you sooner rather than later then, if this was truly the route he wanted to take. Give his charm and charisma a real test for once. 

Lucky for you, he had yet to meet anyone who was completely impervious to his bag of tricks. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

His opportunity presents itself with the kind of stark clarity that one usually only finds in the perfect merging of fate and happenstance. The hero’s curse rings true once again. 

The hostess club you worked for was a nondescript cabaret bar tucked off from the main hub of bustling activity in Lumina Square. Down a dark and rather shady looking alley, one would find themselves emerging on the other side into a much smaller but no less busy street that was clearly more geared towards nightlife and entertainment than the shopping center back the way they’d come. The outer facade is clean and relatively sterile, with a tasteful sign over the door that merely reads Club Iris and nothing more to indicate what sort of business it might be. For all intents and purposes it was nearly indistinguishable from the massage parlor near the riverfront or the karaoke place further down the street. 

It’s only real give away was whichever girl happened to be standing out front to greet people with a welcoming smile, inviting anyone who looked gullible enough to come inside. Having been watching you as long as he has, Hugo has seen you standing there on the sidewalk a handful of times before when your lucky number was drawn for curb appeal duty but today seems to be a bit different. You’re wearing a new dress, for starters. 

One that is by all means demure in its style and cut, but so seamlessly fitted to the curves of your body that he’s forced to cross his legs to hide the growing bulge in his pants. It did not leave much to the imagination. In almost any other situation he would’ve been quite delighted by this turn of events — a daughter of the Ravenlock’s fallen into such unfortunate circumstances that she’s forced to use her own body just to make a living? It was poetic justice, in a way. But the unfortunate side effect of that being other men ogling you up and practically fucking you with their eyes … well, he quickly finds that he doesn't like that very much. 

And they do look at you, just like they were meant to. He can see them turning their heads in rapt attention to stare at you from his vantage point on the patio of the coffee shop across the street and down a ways. The young, the old, the married and the singularly lonely. All of them men who would have given anything just to be in your presence, to be on the receiving end of one of those flirty little smiles you were so adept at. As far as self advertising went, you were doing a spectacular job of drawing the covetous glances of all who passed by. 

It disgusts him. Makes him feel sick and nauseous with a jealousy that was not entirely foreign to him. He knew the feeling well even if he didn’t like it. And he also knows that he’s not going to be able to sit idly by while anyone else was raking their eyes over your body in that form fitted little number. He’d have to act quickly if he didn’t want anyone else to pay for the privilege of your time though, which didn’t leave him with much of a chance to think up a plan. 

It was just going to have to be now or never. 

Unfolding himself from the patio chair, Hugo inconspicuously shifts to redistribute the weight of his cock in his pants and better hide the bulge of a half hard erection. Even now he’s surprised at how lacking in self control he was becoming whenever you were involved but like with everything else he doesn’t stop long enough to really question or evaluate it. Creatures of the night had no need for self reflection, after all, and he finds a certain comfort in his blind obsession even as he digs a hand into his pocket to discreetly tug himself more to the side. 

Withdrawing his wallet in the same, smooth motion, he tosses down a handful of dennies for a tip before stepping off of the patio into the street. He was just going to have to play this by ear, and his long legs make quick work of the short distance down to the cabaret bar despite his unhurried pace until he soon finds himself stepping directly into your line of sight. His heart stutters an eager rhythm with the knowledge that this would be the first time you ever laid eyes on him only for it to stop beating altogether when you do just that, glancing up at his considerable height. 

A split second pause in which he feigns ignorance of you, the establishment behind you, the blood ties you shared, and then your mouth pops open in his peripheral vision. Just like he’d known it would. Between his expensive clothes and the innocuous yet important looking briefcase in his hand, he’d known the bait would be too good for you to resist.

“Hey, Mister.”

Still pretending to be oblivious, Hugo turns his head this way and that as if looking around for the person you were speaking to. Then, putting on his best imitation of an innocent facade when he finds no one else on the street with him, he stops to glance back at you. 

As if only just now realizing you were indeed calling out to him, he allows his mouth to settle into a polite smile. “Hey to you, too. Sorry, I’m not used to being called that so I didn’t think it was for me at first. I hope I don’t look that old yet.” 

You seem to find his usual charms funny, which was also well within his expectations, and his loins curl painfully tight under the glowing grin you flash at him. 

“Don’t worry, you don’t look a day over twenty. I was just trying to be polite. Would it have been better if I’d called you handsome instead?”

He can’t help scoffing a quick laugh. “Well, that certainly would have caught my attention a bit quicker, I’ll give you that. It’s not everyday I get catcalled by someone as beautiful as you. And, really? Twenty? Maybe you should have called me a sucker.”

Your eyes flash at that, clearly latching onto his wit and sharp tongue just like he’d known you would. Growing up in the real world rather than the carefully manufactured bubble of the Ravenlock family’s money and prestige had done you a world of good. A wilting wallflower you were not. 

All of those fake polite niceties they’d once tried to drill into him are not present here, and you unhesitatingly drop your eyes to take in his pressed slacks and his briefcase, his luxury brand dress shoes and the decidedly bespoke coat hanging from his shoulders. You don’t even attempt to hide it as you quite clearly size him up. 

“Are you a businessman?” You finally ask, dragging your attention back around to his face. Direct and straight to the point. Oh yes, he liked that very much. 

“‘Maybe. Depends who’s asking.”

“Ooh, mysterious are we?

His smile grows slightly at that, flashing a tiny peak of fang. “Only when it amuses me. I’m an art dealer so hardly a paper pusher, if that’s what you wanted to know. The names Hugo Vlad, by the way. It’s very nice to meet you.” 

He holds his free hand out to you in offering and you don’t hesitate to act now either, confidently reaching over to take it. You tell him your name, oblivious to the possibility that he might already know it, as you give him a surprisingly firm shake. You’d be a formidable little thing in a boardroom. 

“Trust me, darling. The pleasure is all mine.” Quickly flipping your hand over before you can protest or pull away, he bends over your outstretched arm to plant a lingering kiss to the back of your knuckles. Just that brief contact, the brief taste of you that comes in with the breath he takes, is enough to have his cock twitching in his pants again. Oh, but you were positively delectable. 

Slowly straightening, Hugo finds you pinning him with a playful if not rueful little grin. Cheeky, right down to the letter. 

“You’re a charmer, I’ll give you that. Most guys forget how to be smooth and suave when they realize what I’m selling.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not ‘most guys’.” He says with a pointed quirk of his brow, making something in your eyes shift towards hazy. “And what exactly is it you’re trying to sell me, beautiful? I might be interested.” 

You draw a slow breath that makes your chest expand, pushing up against the gossamer silk of your dress. When he briefly drops his attention at the motion he finds your nipples growing stiff and puckered, poking out in what could only be invitation. And Hugo has to subtly bite down on his tongue to stop himself from groaning at the sight of them, of you standing there like that while your body subconsciously reacts to his presence. Oh, but little darling, he was going to tear you to shreds. 

“I’m an entertainer. A hostess.” You say, speaking softly now as you halfheartedly motion back at the building. Clearly distracted. “Would you like to come in for a drink and chat some more?” 

Once again feigning innocence, Hugo glances up at the nondescript sign behind you as if it never even occurred to him what sort of establishment this might be. “Oh. I see now. Isn’t that how places like this always trap you though? You invite me inside under the pretense of getting to know each other better and then by the end of it you’ll have taken my entire life savings. Besides … it’s the middle of the day, lovely girl. What would people think if they saw me entering such a shady business?” 

Rather than getting defensive, you merely shrug at him. “Whatever it is, they're probably already thinking it since you’ve been standing here talking to me for so long. Most would have kept walking if they weren’t at least a bit interested, but definitely if they were embarrassed about being seen with someone like me.” 

Someone like you? Yes, someone like a disgraced Ravenlock who has no idea what sort of monster she’s inviting in. 

Genuine amusement tugs at his mouth, curling Hugo’s lips into a sly smirk. “Touché. You make a convincing argument, I’ll give you that. Alright, I’ll come inside with you but only under one condition.” 

You shift your weight from one heel to the other and pointedly cock your hip out. “Which is?” 

“I’d prefer to be alone with you, that’s all. Do you have any private rooms to rent out in this place?” 

Real surprise registers in your expression. “Are you sure? Can you really afford that?” 

“Oh, trust me, sweetness. You needn’t worry about my finances.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It’s not a very big room that you take him to but, glancing up at the reflective surface of mirrors on the ceiling, he quickly decides that it will do. 

After following you down a starkly lit, carpeted hallway with an inconspicuous row of doors on either side, you’d finally stopped to open the last room on the left. Not a soul had come or gone in the trek from one end of the building to the other, and it’s almost eerily still and silent as he casually moves to take in the room after setting down his briefcase. A white leather couch that would have looked gauche in almost any other setting were it not for the glitzy, overly dramatic glass chandelier hanging above it. To the left sits a steel lined mini bar of dark charcoal with perfectly polished glasses sitting neatly along the top of it. He can see a small sound system tucked just to the side, which is where you head now to turn on some music and give the room a bit of ambiance. To the right and partially hidden behind an exaggeratedly large plant with reaching fonds is a standalone hot tub that looked like it could comfortably seat six. This was probably a VIP lounge meant for groups of businessmen looking to unwind. And to think, it was just you and little old him. 

He could almost wretch at the thought of anyone else bringing you back to this room. 

Hugo knew well what this game was and how to play it though. You weren’t a prostitute in the strictest sense, particularly not when it was technically illegal in New Eridu, but as always there was a loophole in place to sidestep the law. There was always a workaround for everything. 

The club owners were likely happy to look the other way on whatever their girls were doing as long as it kept paying customers happy and coming back for more. The women who worked here were indeed entertainers on paper but behind closed doors, well … that was more up to individual discretion. 

He’d extensively researched this place right at the onset and he knew for a fact that some of the employees did exchange sexual favors for dennies. It wasn’t a requirement to work here but the most successful hostesses usually put out, and the cheap little apartment you had over in the less savory part of the city was likely a very good indication of where you stood on the matter. There were plenty of bathhouses and massage parlors that operated on similar terms scattered around for anyone desperate enough to seek them out, though this club seemed to cater to a wealthier clientele. And as long as they didn’t get caught, the owners were likely fine with their employees charming the wallets out of however many men they wanted and by whatever means necessary. 

He had to give you credit if you really thought you were skilled enough to pull something like that over on him though. It was cute. 

The quiet sound of your heels coming up behind him brings Hugo back to reality and he realizes that a soft, crooning melody is now playing over the tucked away speakers. Something thin and sultry. His pulse gives a dull thud and, slow with anticipation and thrumming hunger, Hugo turns to greet you with a pointed smile.  

“If I didn’t know any better I might think you were trying to rob me blind back here.” 

You give a low laugh at that as you step right up to him, hand lifting to press delicate fingers into the bend of his elbow. “And you might be right if I was one of the other girls but I don’t like to stoop to that level. Your dennies are safe with me, Mister Vlad.”

“Just Hugo is fine. No need for formalities.” The corner of his mouth hitches slightly in wry humor. “Are you trying to tell me that you really brought me here just to chat? I’m not quite sure I believe that.” 

“You misunderstand me, Hugo. I didn’t say I was a virgin pure with lofty standards. It’s just that I’ve found my clients are usually happy to keep coming back all on their own so I don’t feel the need to drain them in one go with crafty traps.” 

His heart stutters a beat inside his chest. Now that sounded interesting. 

“Well, I’d be lying if I said you haven’t piqued my curiosity when you put it like that. Something tells me I wouldn’t mind being entrapped by you though.” 

“Oh? Would you like a demonstration then?” 

“Gladly.” 

A glint of mischief flashes in your eyes as you slide the hand on his arm higher up to press lightly on his shoulder. You’re half his size as most people are when Hugo was so tall and leanly svelte so he doesn’t have to bend to your will but he chooses to do it anyway. 

Taking a shuffling step back and then another, he lets you guide him towards the waiting couch where you give him an unexpectedly firm shove. He allows himself to be moved and he plops down on the cushions, too curious and delighted to consider fighting it as he stares up at you in transfixed silence. His long legs fold underneath him with the motion but they stretch out now in a wide spread of invitation when you step into his space to stand over him. He couldn’t wait to see what you would do even if it meant handing over all of his control. 

Smiling at him like the cat that had its sights set on a particularly appetizing canary, you reach out to brush your fingers over the mockingbird pin on his lapel. 

“This is cute. Did you make it?” 

“I’m afraid I’m only an appreciator of art, not a creator.” 

Humming a soft sound of consideration, you trace your manicured finger over the delicate chain across his chest until you reach the clasp that connects to his jacket. You bend close to fiddle with it, gracing him with a tantalizing glimpse down the front of your dress that has him suddenly struggling just to breathe. It’s as if every drop of blood in his body has shot straight down to his groin in a sudden rush, and he tightly fists his gloved hand against the armrest in an attempt to keep his cool. Not only was the fleshy swell of your tits right in his face, perfectly offered to him and all his for the taking, but the smell of you … 

Hugo feels like he’s drowning in it. It’s the same smell from your bedroom except it’s ten times stronger when he’s close to you like this, a hundred times more potent, and his cock violently springs up to shove at the front of his pants with such intensity it makes his vision blur at the edges. All at once he’s bombarded by the spectral memory of how you’d tasted on his tongue and how the lingering flavor of your pussy had sent him into a pulse pounding frenzy. 

And that had only been the residual leftovers on your used panties, too. But now he had the chance to drink right from the source, to put his mouth on the most intimate parts of your body … all while covetously hiding the truth of his relation to you. 

He thinks he might actually bust right then and there, the twisted, sick delight he feels curling in his stomach almost as intoxicating as the arousal itself. You really had no idea who he was. Not even an inkling of suspicion that he might be the Ravelock family’s rightful heir and personal boogeyman. 

Otherwise you wouldn’t be touching him like this. 

As soon as the little brooch is unclasped from the jacket, you let it fall loose from his shoulder with a brief rattle of metal. The burnished sun insignia falls to his lap while you slip a hand under his thin tie to give it a solid tug. Your eyes read of sly intent when he looks into them with his own blown wide and hungry for more than just the pleasures of the flesh you were offering him. He could fight this too, if he truly wanted to, but he doesn’t even put up a facsimile of struggle when you use his tie to pull him closer, making it cinch around his throat. 

He’s sure you’re going to kiss him and seal your own fate right then and there, yet you stop just short of pressing your mouth into his. Only a scant few millimeters, if that, remains between his lips and yours, and Hugo has to force his lungs to expand on a clipped inhale. What were you … 

“Just a few ground rules first, handsome. Keep your hands to yourself unless I tell you otherwise and I’ll make sure you leave here with a skip in your step. But if you say or do anything that I interpret as disrespect I’ll send you off to take care of yourself. Understood?” 

“… perfectly.”

You cock a brow at that, clearly nudging him to come up with a better response, and he swallows his excitement down with a small gulp. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good. The second rule is that you let me set the pace. I don’t want to hear any complaints from you and you’d better not try to rush me either. If you can’t behave and take what I give you then …” 

Hugo’s mouth stretches into a slow, toothy grin. “You’ll send me on my way to jerk off alone like a pathetic loser. Is that right, ma’am?” 

“Mm, a bit of a brat, are we? Well, that’s just fine with me too.” Giving his tie one last, taunting pull, you slide your hand up to sedately curl it over his shoulder and slide his jacket off. He shifts with the motion, giving you enough room to tug it out from behind him so you can toss it aside on the other end of the couch. 

Pausing there, you take a moment to gently tuck some of the long forelocks back behind his ear to get it out of his face. The simple brush of your fingertips against Hugo’s skin is enough to have him trembling faintly in anticipation, so eager to have you and to claim you, to destroy you from the inside out, that he can hardly contain himself. But he forces himself to remain still and pliant as you guide your hand back down to wrap it around his tie again. 

The sudden yank you give it is hard and fast, and he jerks upright with a muted little gasp of eager excitement. He lets you drag him forward to the edge of the cushions, forced to fold himself at the waist under the guiding pressure of your hand. Bent up like that, there’s not much he can do to protect himself when you bring one high heeled foot up and press it into the center of his pants. The presence of his erection is unmistakable as you press down on it with a grinding motion, making him groan a faltering sound at the indelicate pressure you apply. 

“You’re already this hard? I guess you wanted this more than your mysterious cool guy act let on … or maybe you just really like me?”

“Definitely the latter.” He grits out, wincing when your shoe mercilessly digs into the sensitive flesh of his cock. Even through the layers of his clothes it’s a painful sensation but Hugo had never been one to shy away from a little bit of discomfort. It’s not enough to scare him off, at least, though he is admittedly quite taken aback by the dominant display and how easily you’d slipped into it. 

If this was how you handled all of your clients then that would certainly explain why everyone seemed to be so hush hush about their time spent with you. 

As if realizing that his mind was wandering off to other things, you give his tie another good pull that has it tightening around his throat and starting to cut off the airflow. Letting his eyes slip shut, Hugo sighs a quiet, faltering breath into the still room. He already felt like he was dangerously close to another wildly premature orgasm … 

Dammit, he wasn’t even going to have a chance to fully enjoy this. 

“How interesting. Are you always this much of a masochist, Hugo?” 

Only when it was his little sister doling out the punishment. 

He can't say that though, not yet, so he settles on a wheezy laugh. “With the right incentive, sure.”

You giggle a mischievous sound at that, flipping your hand to wind his tie around your knuckles and give yourself a better grip on it. “Then let’s make sure you stay incentivized, hm? Be a good boy and unbuckle my shoe for me, will you?” 

That task is far easier said than done, especially when you refuse to let up your hold on the impromptu leash around his neck, leaving him with no choice but to fumble blindly with it in his lap. Your skin is so soft even on your foot that it takes all of his self control not to flip the tables and claim you for himself like some crazed, half starved beast. And he’s well aware of how pathetic he probably looks while he struggles to unclasp the little eyelet hook around your ankle without being able to see what he’s doing, bent in half as he is on the couch. But you’re a demanding little thing and oh, how his scorching blood just sings with satisfaction. 

Finally he gets the heel unfastened and he reverently lifts your leg with one hand so he can slip the shoe off with the other. Letting it fall to the floor next to him, Hugo hunches further over you to press his lips against your toes which he notices are painted a tantalizing shade of red. The perfect color for you, in his opinion, and he quickly opens his mouth to suck on the first toe before you can protest or dissuade him. 

“Oh,” You breathe out, sounding pleased if not a bit surprised. “What a good pet you are. Be careful though. I didn’t give you permission to do that, now did I?” 

Coming up off your foot with a dull pop, he tips his head to peer at you from under the slightly mussed fall of his bangs. “No ma’am, you didn’t. But I do hope you’ll forgive me for my impertinence. Your skin is so beautiful, it just makes me … want to sink my teeth into it.” 

“Well, don’t get carried away.” You murmur, the faintest falter in your voice belying your true thoughts on the matter. “I’ll take this tie and wrap it around your wrists if I have to. I’m sure you don’t want that, do you?”

He gives his head a mute shake. The needy look on his face must be enough to sufficiently placate you, because you hum a brief sound of approval as you slip your foot free of his hold to stand fully on the carpet again before lifting the other to his lap. 

“Take this one off too.”

Licking his lips, Hugo complies with a bit more surety than the first time, quickly getting this shoe unbuckled as well. It soon joins its counterpart on the floor and he gives the arch of your foot a brief squeeze that makes the toes curl in response, a silent promise of what he could do for you if given the word. 

You draw a stilted inhale though, apparently determined to keep that razor thin boundary in place as you direct your foot back down to his pants again. Finding his straining erection easily enough when it was practically ripping right through his slacks, you rather carelessly nudge at it to make him hiss a wounded sound. His cock flexes as if with a mind of its own, bobbing heavily underneath the expensive material while it pulses almost violently in warning. He really was going to cum like this and you hadn’t even touched him yet … 

Hell, you might not even touch him at all at this rate. 

“You look like you’re getting close, Hugo. I wasn’t expecting you to be this sensitive.” 

“Mmnghn … please …”

Your foot briefly stills while you seem to think about it, clearly weighing the situation and your own arousal against his. He can tell you’re getting excited too but whether or not you’d give him another inch was the real gamble. It was in his nature to push though, and in many ways that was what he was best at. 

Suggestively, he rolls his hips forward to grind himself on your foot with a slow motion thrust that drags the galvanized length of him across the arch. It’s intentional and deliberate to ensure you feel every inch of him, how big he is and how heavy. He was usually more adept at the game of seduction than this but between his own pulse pounding need and the overwhelm that comes with having you standing over him like this, it’s the best he can come up with. 

And to his surprise it seems to work, because you give him one last, pointed nudge before taking a step back from the couch. His tie slips free with the movement and he’s able to straighten up a little bit from his uncomfortable hunch, following after you with a hazy puppy dog look. 

“Keep your eyes on me, handsome.” You murmur, pinning him with a salacious grin as you reach up to coyly slip the straps of your dress over your shoulders. 

He’s so riveted to you that Hugo isn’t quite sure what he expected so it comes as a bit of a shock to his system when you fold the front of the garment down under your breasts. Even now you show neither hesitance or bashful uncertainty, and his lungs catch on a sharp gasp as you bare your naked tits at him. 

The size and the shape of them, the perfect nipples standing up in attention seeking little points.  They’re perfect. So much better than anything he could have ever imagined them to be, and his narrow hips give a stiff jerk in response to the sight of you. Exposing yourself to him, getting naked for him. Your own brother. 

Hugo only realizes he’s cumming when he feels the first rush of sticky spend shoot off into his underwear, and he grits his teeth as he lurches in place there on the couch. It’s too much. His cock never stood a chance against you, not like this, and all he can do is wheeze his way through the abrupt spasms with a deeply tortured groan. 

It’s over almost as quickly as it started though, and he heaves a frustrated sound as he falls back against the cushions. His hand comes up to cup his face, not exactly embarrassed that he’d just cum completely untouched, but annoyed that he couldn’t have held it back a little longer. And things were just starting to get good too …

“Oh, Hugo.” You coo at him, bringing his attention back up when you sound neither disappointed nor displeased with him. His fingers jerk away from his face and he peers up at you, feeling another low twist in his gut when he finds you smirking down at him. “Don’t worry, there’s nothing to be ashamed about. On the contrary, I’m actually quite flattered. I thought a guy like you was going to make me really work for it but …” 

Looking like you wanted to eat him alive, a sentiment he was sure must be reflected back at you in his own face, you drop your arms to your sides and allow the sagging dress to slide further down your body. A quick shimmy of your hips has it slithering down your legs with a soft whisper of silk brushing against skin, and suddenly you’re standing there in only your underwear. 

Feeling like he was about to shoot off again, Hugo brings his gloved hand down to gingerly cup himself through his damp pants. His cock was still terribly sensitive post orgasm but it readily springs up again, pushing at his palm as if in search of freedom, and he seethes a pained moan into the static charged air. 

Goodness, your stomach, your thighs … he was quickly reaching the point of true overload, feeling drunk and borderline delirious. 

“How much?” He blurts before he can think any better of it. 

You tip your head at him in question, making him wince when he realizes what he’d just said. 

“My apologies. I was wondering how much it would take to convince you to sleep with me. I’m not hard up for dennies or anything, and I’d be willing to give you the shirt off my back at this point but — I understand how that probably sounds. I’m sorry.” 

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound great. But there’s nothing to apologize for. I can tell what kind of shape you’re in so I can’t exactly expect you to be thinking straight, can I?” 

He sends you a slow look, further caught off guard by the serene way you stare back at him. Unexpected, given he would’ve thought that would be more than enough to get him booted out onto the street. How curious. 

“Don’t worry about it, Hugo. Luckily I like you so I’m willing to keep playing. And it looks like you are too.” Giving his lap a knowing grin, you step forward to come back up to the edge of the couch where you lean down to move his hand out of the way. Your naked breasts shift with the motion and he has to screw his eyes shut, unable to look at you while you work to get his belt undone. “You’re already so hard for me again. Most men are ready to go home after one round, especially if I’ve made them cum in their pants like this, but you seem to have plenty of stamina left. How am I supposed to send you away, hm?” 

Panting at the head rush of dopamine and endorphins, he tips his chin down to watch you unwind the belt from around his waist and set it off to the side before going back in for the hidden button on his slacks. The delicate zipper quickly follows with a quiet zrrrt, and then you’re tugging at the material to get it pulled down his thighs. 

He sees the very obvious mess bleeding through his underwear at the same time you do, bringing a hand up to impatiently shove some of the hair back from his sweaty face while you coo at him again. You really don’t seem at all bothered by it though as you curl your fingers around him through the thin, sodden fabric, giving his restless cock a slow motion tug to make him seethe. Taking a long moment to just play with him like that, ensuring he’s fully recovered from his first orgasm and hard again, you outright laugh when he starts to beg you for it. 

“Still so needy. Are you sure you aren’t always like this?” 

“Positive.” He croaks, grimacing at the sensation of his cooling spend dragging over his length. “Believe it or not I … ooohn, I usually have much more pride than this. You’ll have to forgive me. I’m sure I probably look like a clueless virgin right now, huh? Gods … I’d give anything to have you. Anything at all. Just say the word and it’s yours.” 

“You don’t have to buy me, Hugo. I already want you.”

A bitter, ironic laugh slips out of him. He’s certain you’d be singing a much different tune if you knew who he really was. What he really was. 

This isn’t the time to reveal all of his cards just yet though, so he keeps those thoughts to himself when you finally deem him ready; carefully slipping your fingers into the band around his hips so you can tug his boxer briefs down. Biting his lower lip, Hugo watches his cock spring up from his pelvis, glistening faintly with the lingering remnants of his release and flushed a dark shade of pink. He looks raw and overspent even to his own eyes, and he can’t help groaning a tortured sound when you climb up to straddle him. 

With your thighs bracketing his legs, you make careful work of lining yourself up with his cock before lowering your weight to pin it between your body���s. Your panties remain an ever present barrier separating him from you, but it does very little to stop him from feeling the pudge of your pussy lips pressing down on him or the meaty slit that runs down your center. It makes him positively shake and he tips his head back to plaintively hiss up at the ceiling. He couldn’t cum again. Not so soon. It would kill him. 

“What did I tell you, Hugo?” You croon ever so sweetly as you nudge your pelvis forward to drag your cunt over the length of him. “Keep your eyes on me. Don’t look away. I want you to watch what I’m doing to you. If you’re so intent on giving me something then give me your attention.” 

Forcing himself to blink through the hazy delirium, he brings his head back down to glance at the spot where your body meets his. Your underwear, already so thin and sparse to accommodate that sinfully form fitted dress, is moulded to the shape of your cunt, giving him a perfect view of how the slit spreads open around his aching girth. It looks like you’re gripping him, so soft and pliant, and unbearably hot, and he almost can’t stand it. He was either going to bust again in record time or he was going to faint dead away from trying to hold it back. 

“Damn! That’s … nnghn! You’re a darling little menace, aren’t you? Please just let me touch you. Please. I want to feel you. Need to … oohhn, need to hold you. Something. Anything. Ahnn …” 

Clearly pleased as punch, you lean forward to loosely wrap your arms around his neck while you continue to grind yourself against him. The sensation of your tits pressing into his now wrinkled shirt very nearly sends him careening over the edge, but he desperately squeezes his hands into tight fists at his sides to stop it. Most other men probably would have wrongly taken that as an open invitation for them to put their hands on you, but it was just as he’d told you earlier. Hugo Vlad was not like other men. Even when his head was spinning dizzyingly fast and he had to fight just to keep from cumming again, he still remembered his objective. He’d wanted you to come to him willingly and you were, completely of your own volition. He couldn’t screw that up now with impulse. If he was going to rob you of your peace of mind from now until your dying breath, he had to make sure the decision was entirely yours. 

Unfortunately for him you seem to be utterly content just riding him like this, using his throbbing cock for your own pleasure. It must feel good humping against him like that, because he can see the faraway look in your eyes, hear the way you softly sigh in pleasure. And he wants it to feel good for you, needs it for his hatred of the Ravenlock’s — every Ravenlock to be satiated. Oh, how this will haunt your every step for the rest of your life. He was going to make damn sure of that. 

His own helplessness in the current situation hardly matters on the broader stage of his plans, and he pathetically starts to swivel his hips up to meet you, adding more pressure to the glide of your cunt. Hugo’s breath hitches in his chest with the motion even as he realizes he’s making a grave mistake when his balls draw up uncomfortably tight to the scrotum in warning. 

Too close. He couldn’t keep it at bay much longer. 

But rather than try to save himself, he merely whimpers an overwrought sound into the air, joining the thin moans that slip from your mouth. It feels like he’s moving in quicksand when every stiff thrust of his hips brings a sharp, static charged bolt of pleasure with it, nearly debilitating him and yet he can’t seem to stop. His pelvis just keeps rolling up to meet you as if he’s running on autopilot now even when his thighs start to wildly shake from the effort. 

The tension in him finally snaps when you toss your head back, shoving your chest further into his while you groan his name up at the mirrors on the ceiling. That’s what does him in this time, and his cock violently erupts with another spray of hot spend that jets across his dramatically flexing stomach. And he lurches under you, feeling well and truly sucker punched as he sends a harried glance at the spot between your legs, numbly watching himself shoot rope after rope while you continue to drag your pussy over him. 

He couldn’t believe it. Even when he was watching it happen, feeling it happen, he just couldn’t believe it. 

“Ooh, Hugo … again?” 

Hissing through tightly clenched teeth, he desperately bucks under you for another second or two before the pulsing finally stops, leaving him feeling drained and boneless. He immediately deflates on top of the couch, bringing his hands up to once again shove at the hair around his face while he tries to catch his breath. It’s no use though. Not only was his body being pushed right to the limit, but you weren’t even done with him yet. That much is clear in the way you mockingly coo at him, feigning sympathy even as you continue to grind yourself on him despite his cock’s valiant attempt to flag and soften. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could conceivably take but … 

“I really have to give you credit, handsome. Even though you look like you’re about to cry … you still haven’t complained once yet. Most of my clients are asking for mercy by now. And you even remembered to keep your hands to yourself. You’re being a very good boy for me, I hope you know that. And I for one think good boys deserve to be rewarded.” 

His cock instantly stirs and stands up, hardening to full attention again despite how much it hurts to do so, and he could almost laugh a bitter sound at the ridiculousness of it all. Would have, if he’d had the extra oxygen for it. You were going to be the death of him if you kept this up. 

He’s much too far gone to even question what you’re doing though, and all Hugo can seem to manage is staring in rapt fascination as you go up on your knees and reach down to tug your panties aside. He suddenly has a full shot of your pussy, with neatly trimmed hair framing the fleshy slit and a clear glisten of arousal coating the lips. His arousal skyrockets so hard and so fast that he almost feels sick with it, lurching woundedly underneath you when you lower yourself to once again dock your cunt along his length. 

Then you’re moving again, dragging those petal soft creases and folds over him, and this time he can feel every little drag of flesh against clinging flesh. The intense body heat coming off of you, the sticky slick that smears across him and helps to smooth the glide. It feels so much better than your panties did rubbing against him, his long legs jerking with an oversensitive shudder. 

But the worst of it is how he can feel the entrance of your body passing over him, the suggestion of it, the implication too much for him to bear. Hugo feels like a slathering, mindless creature as he impulsively jerks his hands up to latch them around your waist in a white knuckled, squeezing grip. You freeze in place at the sudden contact but he just leans up towards you, begging with wide blown eyes. 

“Please, darling. Please. Just the tip. That’s all I want and I’ll be happy with it, please just take me into your body. Let me feel you. I won’t ask for anything more than that, I swear on all that I love. I just need you.” 

Silently, you look down into his face for a long moment, the gears clearly turning in your mind before you issue a clipped sigh at length. “Well, I did say I was going to reward you. I don’t typically go this far with customers but … lucky for you I like you. You’d better take me out for dinner after my shift is over though. I’m not giving you a freebie here.”  

Hugo blinks wide blown eyes at that, hardly even daring to believe his own ears. You were serious? “… yes, of course. It would be my pleasure. Anywhere you want. I’ll just need to run home and — clean up a bit first.” 

Grinning a secretive little smile, you lean in to press a briefly fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Good. Because I’ve greatly enjoyed getting to play with you, Hugo. You might not be a masochist by nature but you’ve taken to it like a duck to water if you ask me. So for now your reward will be just the tip … and who knows. Maybe later I’ll let you eat me out and have you show me how good you are with that pretty mouth of yours.” 

A tense shudder works down his spine, making him shake against you, and it’s not only because his raw cock is starting to throb again. The thought of wining and dining you, treating you to fancy restaurants or clothes that you probably weren’t accustomed to having access to, of — courting you sounds undeniably tempting. If not because he does like you too, even though he’d be loath to admit it, then certainly because that would make the big reveal all the more sweeter, wouldn’t it?

If you actually fell in love with him … 

Fingers digging into your hips, Hugo presses down and you oblige with a dreamy, distant sigh. The head of his cock pushes into you and spears through the fleshy embrace of your cunt in painful slow motion, making him grunt at the gradual squeeze around his sensitive glans. You’re so warm, soft and gooey that it almost makes him feel sick with high strung arousal, but even that seems to pale in comparison to the malicious delight he feels swelling in his chest. This was really happening. It was playing out even better than he could have ever anticipated. 

His sister, all alone in the world except for the brother she never knew she had and who she was now seeking comfort from. As man and woman. Lovers. Unbeknownst and oblivious, but siblings all the same. 

It was exquisite.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[froggapi-writes]

🩵┆Weight of the World Platonic!Tony Stark x Reader

Sad/Comfort Tony looks to you for reassurance after he hits a breaking point.

Warnings Just sad tony, depression Words 1125

☞ Masterlist

— “When you can't even explain what's going on inside your own head anymore.” Long-ish Drabble

You had never quite understood how heavy silence could feel until you found yourself sitting in the remote, quiet confines of Tony Stark's lab. It was late. The soft hum of machines and the occasional beep of monitors were the only sounds that filled the otherwise empty space. You had been here for hours, your fingers absently tracing the rim of your coffee cup, the warmth of the mug doing little to ward off the chill that had settled in your bones.

The world was a heavy place. The kind of heavy that sometimes felt like it might crush you if you didn’t keep moving, keep working, keep pushing. But even the most relentless of forces needed rest. And right now, it felt like he needed it more than anyone.

Tony had always been a whirlwind—faster than the world around him, making jokes to mask his pain, pushing boundaries to avoid facing his own demons. You’d known him long enough to see through the bravado, to see the brokenness behind his quick smile and even quicker wit. You’d seen it in the way his hands would shake ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking, or the way his eyes would linger on the ruins of his past, as if the memories could be reassembled if he just stared for long enough.

Tonight, the world had worn him down more than usual. You hadn’t meant to intrude, but when you found him stumbling through the lab, his usually sharp mind fuzzy and distracted, you couldn’t leave him alone.

You hadn’t said much when you sat down beside him—just placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. And that was all it took. Without a word, he’d slumped against you, the weight of the world suddenly on your shoulders.

Now, hours had passed, and still, Tony hadn’t moved. His body was curled in a chair, his head resting on the backrest, eyes shut tight. He was thinking, you knew. Thinking about everything and nothing all at once. It was the quietest you’d ever seen him.

“Hey,” you whispered, your voice a soft intrusion into the silence.

Tony’s eyes flickered open, meeting yours with that familiar glint of humor, though it was muted, as if the weight of exhaustion had dimmed it. His lips lifted up into a tired, half-hearted smile.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice rough, like he hadn’t spoken in days. “You’re still here?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, not wanting to make him feel bad about your presence, though a small part of you wished you could be elsewhere. “Just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Tony didn’t answer right away. Instead, he turned his head, gaze drifting back to the array of screens in front of him, each one filled with data and blueprints for the next iteration of whatever crazy project he was working on.

“I’m fine,” he said, voice distant. “It’s just...this never-ending cycle. The more I try to fix, the more I break.”

You nodded, not expecting him to elaborate further. You never did. Tony had a tendency to retreat into his work when things got too heavy, to bury himself in technology as if their electric glow was the only thing that could keep the darkness at bay. But you knew better. You knew that all the suits in the world couldn’t protect him from the ghosts of his past.

“The Avengers aren’t a cure-all,” you said softly, attempting to breach the topic gently without triggering his walls to raise. “We can’t save everyone.”

Tony’s shoulders tensed at the words. His gaze hardened, but he didn’t turn to face you. You could see the shift in him, the familiar disconnection he forced when he didn’t want to admit how much he cared.

“I’m not trying to save everyone,” he muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. “Just...the ones I can. The ones who matter.”

You watched him, your heart aching for him. He was always like this—always trying to be the hero, the one who could do it all. But you had seen the cracks in his armor, the times when the weight of responsibility threatened to bury him alive. Tonight was no different.

“I know,” you said gently. “But even you can’t do it all, Tony. You’re only human.”

His eyes flickered to you then, the sharp edges of his expression softening ever so slightly.

“I know,” he repeated, the words so light it was almost a whisper. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it’s never enough. Like nothing I do will ever be able to fix it.”

You shifted closer, your hand still resting on his shoulder, offering what little comfort you could. You didn’t have all the answers, but you didn’t need them. All he needed was someone to sit with him, someone who wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t try to fix him. Someone who understood that sometimes, the best thing you could do was just be there.

“You don’t have to fix everything,” you said quietly. “You just have to be you.”

Tony let out a long, slow breath, his eyes closing again as he leaned back further into the chair, letting himself sink into the rare moment of vulnerability.

“That’s the thing, though,” he muttered, voice barely audible. “I don’t know who that is anymore. I used to...but I’m not sure anymore.”

You could hear the weight of those words. Tony Stark, the man who had reinvented himself so many times, who had built an empire from his own genius and ambition, had lost sight of who he was underneath all the armor. The truth of it flushed over you like a cold wave.

“Hey,” you asserted again, firmer this time. “You’re still you. You’re just... tired. And that’s okay. We all need to rest and reboot.”

For a long moment, there was nothing but the eternal, soft buzz of machinery, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. Then, finally, Tony spoke again, his voice a whisper, almost vulnerable.

“You’ve always been there for me, haven’t you?”

You nodded, unsure if he even needed an answer. The bond between the two of you had always been natural, a quiet understanding that neither of you felt the need to put into words. But now, in the stillness of the lab, you realized just how much that meant.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Always.”

There was a long pause, that for once, you didn’t feel the need to fill. Tony didn’t either. He just sat there, leaning into the comfort you offered, a rare moment of peace in a life that was anything but.

The weight of the world might still be heavy on his shoulders, but for tonight, at least, Tony didn’t have to bear it alone.

And that was enough.

[afloweroutofstone]

I feel like they're purposefully assigning me dull topics to work on in order to put my patience to the test during this final semester of my Masters in Public Policy. Topics I am currently doing research projects on during these last five weeks of grad school, in order from least to most boring:

Variation in food stamp eligibility rules between states

Electric vehicle battery recycling system design

Eldercare workforce development in Pennsylvania