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#I say this but like. It wouldn't change THAT much-
sttm99 · 2 days
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"Guys - shitty guys - they never change for the woman that puts up with them. They change for the next one." You say calmly as you sit down before your kitchen counter, your arms and your chin resting on the counter before you as you spew drunken nonsense to Bakugo.
He frowns as he takes you in, eyes trailing over your face; your flushed cheeks, barely sweaty foreheads, and dazed eyes. "You really think so?" He hums quietly.
You just nod and yawn, "Yep." You drawl out. "That's just how it is. It's also why -" You hiccup once. "I don't believe in dating a guy with qualities I think I can change."
He furrows his brows, a palm on your elbow as he urges you on.
"I'd rather just... just accept the shitty parts, you understand? Take it like that. Cause- cause trying to fix it would just hurt." You huff, leaning back up and stretching your limbs.
His eyes instantly catch the strip of skin that's momentarily exposed. He misses when he had the right to touch it - to touch you - a certain way.
Bakugo thinks of what you're saying. And he knows you're being honest. You really did just accept every part of him, granted he doesn't think he was so bad. Not the best, but good enough that you had some things to gush about during the relationship.
But maybe his flaws were too much to bear.
"It's like...," you continue as you push your glass away sloppily, aware enough to know that you shouldn't take more. "Why would I hurt myself that way? Watching you do things for other girls? The things I'd begged you to do."
"You wouldn't have to," he says, his voice gruff, hoarse, his eyes still trained on you.
You turn to face him with an unimpressed look. "Because I didn't try to change you-"
"I would have." He's speaking before you can even finish getting all your words have. "I will." He continues, staring at you with those ruby eyes.
You just frown at him. "Katsuki...-" he misses how you used to call his name. "Don't say things like that."
He huffs indignantly. "I'm serious. It's - fuck- YN, it's been six months, and I haven't so much kissed another girl. I'm just- just trying to be better for you."
You're sobering up slightly after his words.
"There's no next woman," he says quietly. "It's only you. It stops at you."
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requiemforthepoets · 2 days
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Heyyy, I saw you wrote for Oscar Piastri and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind writing a Oscar x youngest child reader. Went they go to meet her family and he hasn't heard the best things about them. Like her sister is constantly overlooking every achievement ever and it's like her mother doesn't even care about her unless she wants something and the dad isn't in the picture. And after years she just finally breaks down and Oscar comforts her.
you are the only exception 𖦹 OP81
PAIRINGS: oscar piastri x female!reader
SUMMARY: you came to a realization that with your bad relationship with your family, your only strong relationship is with oscar.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: hello! thank you so much for your request. i hope this one is up to your standards, i had also taken a creative liberty to add some details. the confrontation part (between reader and mother) might be a little bit triggering that i had intended it to be for some, so just read with a little discretion. nonetheless, i hope you’ll enjoy this one! :)
REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.
WORD COUNT: 2.3k
WARNINGS: not proofread, typos, youngest daughter syndrome, physical assault (slapping), verbal sparring, dysfunctional family, no father figure, youngest daughter rage, no use of y/n, and cursing.
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You and Oscar stood outside the front door of the house you once had called home. It had been a year since you last had last visited, and the thought of just stepping inside made your stomach twist into knots. You glanced at Oscar, his soft smile of encouragement giving you a moment of calm amidst the growing storm inside your mind. He hadn’t pressed you to meet your family, but you knew it had been on his mind ever since your relationship had become serious.
“They’re your family,” he said gently when you brought up the idea weeks ago. “If you want to introduce me, I’ll be there for you.”
But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Your family had never felt like a real family at all, not like the warmth and care that Oscar had been surrounded by all his life. You had always felt overlooked, unimportant, invisible—like you were just a ghost in the background of your family’s lives. As you hesitated, Oscar’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“It’ll be okay,” he whispered, but even Oscar couldn’t hide the flicker of doubt in his eyes. He had heard enough to know this wouldn’t be easy.
You took a deep breath before knocking. The door swung open, revealing your mother, looking at you up and down, her face was a blank canvas of indifference, before her eyes flicked to Oscar. Her expression immediately softened as she extended her arms, ignoring you completely as she greeted him.
“Oscar, darling, it’s so nice to finally meet you!” You felt the sting immediately, but you forced a smile as Oscar shook her hand politely. “Nice to meet you too, Mrs.—”
“Mom,” she corrected, cutting him off and pulling him into a hug. “Just call me mom.” You bit your lip, suppressing the urge to say something, but Oscar gave you a subtle glance that told you he noticed.
You then saw your sisters lounging in the living room, their eyes didn’t light up when they saw you. You just forced a smile and stepped inside, with Oscar following close behind. Introductions were made, your sisters and mother exchanged pleasantries with Oscar, and even though they were polite, it was as if you weren’t even in the room. Your achievements, the life you had built outside of this house, were all glossed over or ignored completely. Every time you tried to share something about what you were proud of, they either changed the subject or dismissed it with a half-hearted compliment.
Oscar’s brow furrowed slightly, his hand never leaving yours as the conversation carried on. You could tell that he was beginning to understand what you had meant all along. When your mother finally acknowledged you, it was only to ask another favor, something she needed, something she always needed but never seemed to return. There was completely no warmth in her words, no care, just expectations. It didn’t help at the fact that your father wasn’t there—he hadn’t been in the picture for a long time. You’d long since accepted that, but it still hurts, the unspoken absence lingering in the air like a heavy cloud.
As the hours dragged on, Oscar noticed everything. The way that your sisters praised each other’s accomplishments while overlooking yours, the way your mother seemed to care more about what you could do for her than who you were. It was suffocating, but you bit your tongue. You were here out of formality, after all. You wanted them to properly meet Oscar because he’s a part of your life now, and as much as you hated to admit it, they were still your family.
During the dinner, while the whole table’s chatter had subsided, Oscar decided to excuse himself to the restroom, and the room seemed to grow colder the moment he left. You just sat there, tension building in your chest, and finally, something inside of you had snapped.
“I’ve had enough,” you said, your voice steady, though your hands trembled. Your sisters glanced at you, clearly taken aback. “Why do you always do that? Why do you always fucking act like nothing I do matters? You act like I don’t exist unless you need something from me. You’ve never cared about what I’ve done or how far I’ve come, like I’m some kind of afterthought to you all. I’m done pretending that it’s okay!”
Your mother’s face hardened. “Watch your tone.”
Your sisters glanced at each other, their expressions indifferent. “Oh, here we go again,” one of them sighed, “you’re always so dramatic, good god!”
“Dramatic?” You repeated, incredulous. “You’ve never acknowledged a single thing I’ve done. Every time I decided to visit, it’s always the same fucking thing, treating me like I’m invisible unless you want something from me!”
“Maybe if you weren’t so sensitive, it wouldn’t bother you,” your mother chimed in, her voice cold. “You have always been the one to leave us. Don’t act like you’re the victim here.”
You stood up, fists clenched at your sides. “I left because this place was and still is fucking suffocating! Because I couldn’t fucking stand the way you all made me feel. Like I wasn’t good enough, like I didn’t belong here at all!”
Your sisters rolled their eyes, but your mother stood as well, her face was now twisted in irritation. “You think you’re the only one who’s had it hard? We’re your family, and if you don’t like how things are, maybe you’re the problem!”
“No,” you shot back. “You just can’t handle the fucking truth, can you? You’ve all treated me like a shit for as long as I can remember, and maybe that’s why dad left! Maybe he couldn’t stand being around this shit ass family—or being just around you!” You pointed at your mother angrily.
The words hung in the air like a slap, and it wasn’t long before your mother’s hand followed suit, striking your cheek with a force that left your skin stinging and with a glaring red hand imprint. You didn’t flinch, instead, you stood your ground, the sharp pain doing little to shake your resolve.
“You don’t get to fucking hit me just because you can’t handle what I’m saying,” you said, your voice firm but calm. “You lost any right to call yourself my family a long time ago.”
Before anyone could respond, Oscar re-entered the dining room, his eyes immediately locking onto yours. He saw the tension, the redness in your cheek, and without hesitation, he crossed the room, gently taking your hand.
“Let’s go,” he said softly, his voice steady but filled with concern. You didn’t need to argue, you didn’t want to stay a second longer. With Oscar’s hand in yours, you turned and left, the door closing on a chapter of your life that should have ended long ago.
Stepping outside into the fresh air, the weight that had been suffocating you inside began to dissipate. You felt really good after airing everything out in the open, of course you hadn’t expected your mother’s slap, but you don’t care, it was about fucking time. Oscar didn’t say anything for a while, just held your hand, offering you the comfort you didn’t realize you needed until now. Finally, when you were both at a safe distance from the house, he stopped walking and turned to you.
“Are you okay?” He asked, voice full of concern. His fingers brushed against your check, where the redness from the slap still lingered.
You nodded, but your eyes were full of unshed tears. “I’m sorry, Osc,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to witness all of that. I didn’t even want you to meet them.”
He pulled you into his arms, holding you close. “Don't apologize,” he murmured against your hair. “You don’t ever have to apologize for them. That wasn’t your fault.”
You stayed in his embrace for what felt like forever, the world around you fading away until it was just the two of you. For the first time all day, you felt like you could breathe again.
“They don’t define you,” Oscar whispered. “You’re not them. You’ve built something incredible on your own, and you don’t need their validation for that.”
A few tears slipped down your cheeks, but quickly wiped it off. They weren’t just from sadness, they were also from the overwhelming sense of relief that you didn’t have to face any of this alone anymore. Oscar had seen the worst of your past, and instead of turning away, he was still here, holding you tighter than ever.
“I love you,” he said quietly, his words wrapping around you like a blanket of safety. “And nothing they do will ever change that.”
You looked up at him, his kind eyes filled with nothing but understanding, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you belonged somewhere—right there, in his arms.
The moment you were already back at the hotel room, the weight of the day finally crashed down on your shoulders. You just stood there, motionless, while Oscar set down his things. The silence between the two of you was deafening, it felt like the walls were closing in. The dam you had been holding back for years was breaking, and no matter how much you tried to push it down, it was already too late.
You sank into the edge of the bed, face in your hands as everything you had bottled up started to spill out. At first, it was quiet—just a shaky breath, but soon enough, the sobs came in waves, unstoppable, painful, years of frustration and hurt pouring out of you all at once. All the pain of never being enough, of always being overlooked, hits you like a train.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out between sobs, not even sure if Oscar could understand you. “I’m so so sorry…I shouldn’t have made you go there. I shouldn’t have let you meet them.”
Oscar was at your side in an instant, pulling you into his arms as if shielding you from the flood of emotions that overwhelmed you. He didn’t say anything right away, just held you as you cried into his chest, his hand gently running up and down your back. The steady rhythm of his touch was the only thing keeping you tethered to the present, but the storm inside of you was relentless.
“I thought—” you gasped, the words barely making it out between your sobs. “I thought they might have changed…that maybe they’d see me for who I am now. But they didn’t. They never will. I don’t know why I thought it would be any different.”
Oscar pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes filled with concern and understanding. “Hey. Hey, stop,” he said gently, brushing a tear from your cheek. “This isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. You don’t have to apologize for them, not to me.”
You shook your head, guilt pressing down on you. “But how they treated you, it wasn’t right. They didn’t even care that you were there. They didn’t care about anything except what they wanted from me, and I made you go through all of that…I’m sorry,”
Oscar’s grip on you tightened, his voice soft but firm. “You don’t have to apologize for them,” he repeated, his tone more serious now. “They’re the ones who should be sorry, not you. You’ve done nothing wrong. I went because I wanted to be there for you, no matter how it all turned out.”
You sniffed, wiping at your tear-streaked face, though it did a little to stop the flood. “But it’s so embarrassing,” you mumbled. “Your family’s so good, supportive, and mine…mine’s a total mess. Dysfunctional, even. I didn’t want you to see that, I didn’t want you to see where I came from.”
Oscar cupped your face gently, forcing you to look at him. “It doesn’t matter where you came from, I couldn’t care less,” he said quietly, his eyes searching for yours. “What matters is who you are, and you are nothing like them. You’ve built your own life, your own path, and that’s what I love about you. I don’t care about your family’s mistakes. I care about you.”
Your chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t from the pain of your family’s rejection. It was from the overwhelming feeling of being seen, truly seen, by someone who didn’t judge you for the past you couldn’t control. Oscar’s words wrapped around you like a protective shield, and you leaned into him, your tears slowing but your emotions still raw.
“I just wanted them to care,” you whispered, the last of your defenses breaking. “I wanted them to be proud of me, I don’t ask that much from them. I just…I just wanted to feel like I mattered to them.”
Oscar’s arms tightened around you again, pulling you close until your forehead rested against his. “You matter,” he said softly, his breath warm against your skin. “You matter to me. More than you’ll ever know.”
You took a shaky breath, your hands clutching onto his shirt like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice barely audible.
He kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never have to thank me for caring about you. I love you, and I’m here, no matter what.”
The sincerity in his voice broke through the last of the walls you had built around yourself. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt like you could finally breathe. You nodded, the tension in your chest finally easing as you rested your head against his shoulder, letting the warmth of his embrace wash over you.
You weren’t sure of what the future held, or if your family would ever change, but at that moment, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered at all. You had Oscar, and that was enough.
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shuenkio · 3 days
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That basketball player | Lhs.
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Paring: Heeseung X M!reader | Genre: SMUT
Synopsis: Since when did heeseung get that big glow up? Back in the junior year he was just a guy with his bang covering his forehead but now? You can't help but to stare at him every time he is playing basketball, jingling.
Cw: masturbate in the bathroom, bigger cock Heeseung, drunk, public explicit scenes, cursing, no plot Ig, alone time, mentioned of cum, stained etc. [18+] mdni
Non proof read | Eng is not my 1st.
This is a work of fanfiction, do not throw unnecessary tantrums on this nsfw/sfw blog. ©Shuenkio
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A#N: Yo what! I feel pity to leave y'all alone with my no update so here a smut hardcore, before I vanish once again. (Yes this is me, a bit freaky than usual ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ
Being friends with a sports guy like Heeseung is not an easy job, nor is it for your mental, freaky mind. Every time you were there, watching him practice for the competition. You can't find but to stare at a little distracted place, like a weirdo. However, it's not one fault side; since Heeseung does have his own package ever since then, it'd be a jingle bell at every instance.
Not to mention, back in the junior year, Heeseung is just a guy who just hit puberty, freshly adult, bang cover all his forehead like a nerd. In the meantime, all that matters transformed into this: a hot guy with a huge beard that could squeeze a lemon, a slender yet masculine frame from head to toes, and the most glow-up part was probably his middle part.
Which you can't help but to wonder while nosebleed; imagine how'd it look like to be sight. And so on, wondering turns into reality when it's happening during the party of one of your classmates. Walking in the bathroom, as you thought nobody was there with no light on, until when the lights flickered, you were stunned, your hearts just doing a back flip once you saw the tipsy Heeseung who's jerking off on the toilet.
Omfg, is this for real? Think to yourself. Can't hide the red blush that was painted on your face, you immediately apologize and leave; however, before you could, a large hand appeared and pinged you against the door, allowing you to escape this awkward situation.
"Hmm... M/n? What a surprise to see you here during my alone time," said the half-drunk guy, looking down to see his cock peeking through his zipper, naked. In front of you, but did he care? No. You swallow down, feel like a stone stuck in your breath—this is just a dream wake-up.
Your reaction was funny enough to make Heeseung chuckle out; you seem to be nervous, shy, and lately a bit of a turn-on.
"We're alone, aren't we? Now don't hide your true colors, bud; I know you've always wanted this, isn't that right?" Heeseung claim, pointed out right through you. No way he caught you in act, but where? Yet there's no use right now to wonder about it; a big gigantic cock is staring at you right now; he was so hard his cum is leaking out, desperate for some way out of those balls.
Out of surprise, you snapped as Heeseung let out a moan, in contact with his skin too close to yours. Cover your face with your palm to evade your crazy mess face; his pre-cum began to stain on your pants!
"Fuck m/n, take a hold of it. Before I change my mind, I'm not sober," panicking Sprint free in your vein as you shudder to his words, Should you or shouldn't? This once-in-a-lifetime opportunity is so rare, you wouldn't want to go to waste.
Seeing you froze in the spot, back pressed against the door too much, Heeseung snatched one of your hands and wrapped them around his shaft. Lord, have mercy.
"Ahh, so good, m/n, euuu, that's right," biting his lip, his back arching forward, thrusting inside of your palm in rhythm. Both of his hands are pinning you in between, while he endures in pleasure. No word to say; you seem to enjoy what you're doing. His foreskin moved up and down, his tip peeking in every stroke.
Heeseung's freaky side was not what you expected; he was far more wild. Your surroundings are no longer your priority; you didn't care if anyone might hear. Continue to please the man of your dreams; no, this is a dream to be able to touch him, your friend.
A few more strokes, his hip bucking more and more needy, his balls later slipped out of his underwear, come out before slapping against the friction of his own pant. As a result, the fire in him turned on even better. Both of you can't think straight, locked in this bathroom, just the two, enjoying times together.
"Cum... I need to cum m/n!! I'm going to piss Ahh Ahh FUCK." He's knees weaken. The hands that are pinning you in find their way to belt around your waist, despairing for support, before a load of hot cum splashes out on both clothes. Heeseung is indeed sensitive; that might as well be one of his weaknesses for your dictionary.
He then falls down on the floor on his knees finally, as he leans against the wall nearby in this tight space. Draining out and overwhelmed by the masturbation. Little did you know, there's also a stain in your pants too, not only from Heeseung's cum stained. Ugh, he got you in anyway possible.
"Shit..." A couple of minutes passed, his brows furrowing while his eyes shut, before he pissed out for real.
"I—damn it." 
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dropsnectar · 3 days
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Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader
PART THREE
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This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!
So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.
You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed. 
Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.
Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.
***
When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”
Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help. 
“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours. 
“Whats wrong?”
You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.
“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.
“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”
 Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.
“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”
Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”
You frowned.
“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”
“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.
There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.
How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind. 
You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.
This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately. 
“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”
Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.
Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.
After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?
Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!
Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men. 
They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I 
“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.
Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”
Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”
Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”
Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”
You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.
“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.
You giggled and pushed his shoulder. 
“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”
Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…
“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?” 
Renas face changed into a smirk. 
“Yes, and?”
“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?” 
Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”
Oh. He was pouting now.
“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”
Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.
Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”
You looked at him, shocked. 
“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”
“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”
“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”
He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”
Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?
This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate. 
 Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.
***
As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.
You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.
A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,
“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”
Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it. 
Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.
“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply. 
Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell. 
You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.
You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth! 
Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.
Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.
You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it. 
At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance. 
“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.
This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.
“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.
He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it. 
Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.
When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual. 
Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.
It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting. 
Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.
After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.
“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”
“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.
“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.
You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?” 
Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith. 
“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”
“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.
“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”
Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.
“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.
Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.
“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men. 
Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-
“Little One”
Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone. 
“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.
You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.
“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?” 
You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy. 
You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets. 
You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.
Part Four
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harksness · 21 hours
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A/N: i was so feral over detective harkness i wrote a quick lil smut fic (thanx to the rings anon who gave me an idea for this lol <3)
also I KNOW SHES TECHNICALLY AGNES HERE SHHHH JUST GO WITH IT
Warnings: SMUT, oral, Agatha receiving, hair pulling, degradation and praise. Dom! Agatha as per usual. Sub! Reader as per usual.
WC: 2.1k
Carefully, you push the door to Agatha’s office closed behind you and twist the lock. She doesn’t even notice that you entered, hunched over her desk with papers and files sprawled out beneath her, pen clenched in her left hand as she bends over the mess. Strands of hair had slipped out of her ponytail, hanging along the sides of her face.
Once in a while you’ll surprise her at work like this. She’s been so stressed lately that she hasn’t been sleeping through the night. That's not abnormal for your wife, she is a bit of a workaholic afterall, but sometimes she just needs you to drag her back into reality. And that's been hard to do with your conflicting work schedules and her long days lately.
Slowly, so you don't startle her, you walk over to Agatha’s desk. Her eyes glance up to you but don’t seem to process you right away as the flick back down to her work, before landing back on you again. As the realization finally sinks in, a smile grows on her features.
“Hey, hot stuff.”
Your heart leaps into your throat at the way she shoots you a wide grin, legs spreading as she leans back in her office chair to look up at you.
“Hey, even hotter stuff.”
She snorts at your flirting, throwing her pen down onto her desk. It makes you feel a little too smug that it's so easy for her to forget her work when you're around.
“You don’t look in the mirror as much as you should. You’re obviously the hotter stuff.”
She argues lightheartedly as you turn and lean against the desk next to her, the plush of your ass digging into the edge of the tabletop as you smile down at her.
“Well I could say the same thing to you.”
Again, she snorts.
“I’ve barely slept the last few days, my eye bags are huge, my hair is a mess and I’ve got stains all down the front of my frumpy flannel. I’m not hot right now.”
Agatha's eyes are tired and her words make your heart ache in your chest. She's always the most beautiful thing in the world, the details don't matter. She's just always stunning.
You lean in towards her and take her face in your hands, her eyes fluttering closed as she leans into your touch.
“You’re always hot, baby.. It doesn’t matter the circumstances.”
You coo at her, a little laugh escaping her lips as you lean in and press a kiss to her forehead. You decide to speak up before she can continue arguing you, knowing her stubbornness wouldn't let this go unless you changed the subject.
“You look stressed, my love..”
Agatha groans at your words, frustrated.
“There’s just a lot going on right now.. Yknow?”
You nod your head in understanding. When you married her, you knew this is what you were signing up for. She’s obsessed with her job, gone for long periods of time and unable to take her mind off of her work. And that dedication is something you love about her regardless. You’re okay with being her anchor, tethering her and bringing her back to reality. She always floats back to you when you pull her back down to Earth, and that’s all you could ever ask for. 
You’ll happily keep doing this for the rest of your life.
Leaning down, you press your lips against her cheek in a lingering kiss, lips ghosting against her skin as you speak.
“Why don’t you let me help you take your mind off of things for a bit..”
You whisper against her soft skin, and she lets out an amused noise as you continue to kiss her, your lips moving to trace along her jawline as you guide her head to tilt to the side.
“Baby… Fuck.. We can’t-”
As she says that her hands are reaching for you, grabbing you and pulling you closer. You smile against her skin.
“Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you really want me to..”
She doesn't answer, torn between doing what she wants and the responsible thing.
You pull back, admiring her beautiful, tired features for a moment. She looks up at you with love pooling in her eyes as you trace your thumb affectionately along her cheek, under the deep purple bags creasing under her pretty bright eyes before placing a lingering kiss on her lips.
Then, you quickly glance behind you at the door you locked on the way in, ensuring it’s still secure before you drop to your knees in front of her, right below her desk and between her spread legs. The firm carpet is rough on your knees but you don't care, the woman before you is more important. She groans and lets out a louder curse at the sight of you before her.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this..”
She breathes the words out and you smile up at her, leaning forward and running your hands up her clothed thighs.
“Then let me make your fantasy come true, baby.. Please?”
You beg sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at her. She digs her teeth into her bottom lip, eyes flickering greedily over you as she contemplates what to do. 
“Fuck, you’re worth getting fired over.”
You’re grinning ear to ear as you lean forward, running your hands from her knees all the way up her thighs and to the waist of her pants. She watches you with eager eyes, greedy smile etched into her pretty pink lips as she raises her hips off the chair.
Quickly, your hands scramble to undo her pants before grabbing the hem and pulling them down and off her legs, underwear and all, leaving her bare for you as more and more of her soft, pale skin is exposed.
She laughs softly at your eagerness, raising a hand to card sweetly through your locks.
“You begged for this, sweet girl.. Now, you better do a good job if you’re willing to risk my career over it.”
She teases and you lean in, holding her gaze as you press a lingering, open mouth kiss to the inside of her knee. You’re a bit insulted by her words.
“I would never leave you unsatisfied..”
You mumble against her plush skin, taking your time as you softly, firmly press your open mouth against her thigh over and over again as you trail kisses further up her legs.
Here and there you bite softly, dragging your teeth across the sensitive flesh. You feel yourself turning into putty beneath her at every soft gasp that slips past her lips, one of her hands mindlessly toying with your hair.
You start to repeat the actions on her other thigh, wanting to lavish her with sweet kisses and worship her when she lets out a frustrated sigh. Agatha winds her fingers into your hair, slumping down even further and spreading her legs wider as she pushes your mouth against her waiting cunt. You groan, immediately parting your lips as you breathe her in eagerly.
“No teasing, sweetheart… You’re gonna be a good girl and give me exactly what I want, aren’t you?”
She coos down at you, soothingly rubbing her fingers against your scalp. Immediately you let out a needy noise against her and nod your head, desperate to please.
“Good fuckin girl.”
Her voice is low as you drag your tongue through her wet folds. She lets out a controlled, quiet noise, only loud enough for you to hear as you lick up her sweetness. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the taste of her heavy on your tongue.
You begin toying with her clit, first using your tongue to ghost over it in experimental patterns as you try to wind her up. Her chair creaks as she shifts a bit, hand tightening in your hair. 
You can’t get enough of the taste of her. Heavy and metallic and so good, you don't think it could ever be enough. You’d live between her thighs, eating and surviving off of nothing but her pussy for the rest of your life if you could. You make out to kiss the little bud, puckering your lips as you drag them over it before opening your mouth and sucking it between your lips. 
She groans at that, throwing her head back against the back of her seat as you flick your tongue along her clit in quick passes, groaning against her wet cunt as you do. You feel her arousal soaking your lips, and you want to lick up every sweet drop.
“Fuck, baby..”
Agatha curses, heavy breaths dropping from her lips as she looks down at you with lidded eyes. You look back up at her, squirming desperately from your place between her legs.
“You’re such a slut, just for me, hm? So desperate for me to fuck your mouth that you had to crawl under my desk and beg for it, hm?”
Agatha's voice is breathy and erratic as she rests one arm against her chair, canting her hips up against your waiting mouth, her hand buried in your hair and forcing you down and against her with each thrust. You groan against her cunt, breathing heavily as she grinds herself against your tongue. 
You just hold your tongue out for her, letting her guide you however she needs as she fucks herself against your mouth.
“Say it, say you’re my slut with your mouth full of my pussy..”
You groan at her words, nails biting into her calves as you gargle out the words that are muffled by her cunt. She laughs softly, dropping her hips back down onto the chair for a moment and pulling your head back. You heave for air, a stupid smile on your lips as you feel her wetness soaking your lips and chin.
“Say it again.”
Agatha demands, a sadistic grin on her features as she sharply pulls your head back by the fistfull of your hair. You can’t control the moan that bursts past your lips as the delicious sting settles across your scalp.
“I’m your slut, Agatha.. Just yours.. I belong to you..”
You manage to heave the words between breaths and she grins down at you with a satisfied smile on her lips.
“Good girl. Now, get back to work, slut..”
She demands, leaning back into her chair once again and you’re eagerly diving back between her soft thighs, warm and dewey with a thin layer of sweat. Her moans are more frequent now, soft and quiet and deep as they escape her lips. You suck her clit between your teeth gently, flicking your tongue over the nub as quickly as you can.
“Ooooh.. Yes..”
Agatha breathes out, jolting a bit as she raises her hips off of her seat, pressing your needy mouth harder against her wet cunt as she begins to rut against your tongue desperately. You moan into her, meeting each thrust, making sure each movement of your tongue on her clit is calculated and precise.
She gasps sharply, freezing and desperately smushing your face harder against her. You know she’s close, and with that you harshly suck on her clit, hands desperately pawing at her soft thighs as they squeeze around your head, her mouth hung open in a silent moan as she curls in on you, curses dropping from her lips.
Your whole world stops and she’s the only thing that exists as she seizes up, sharp gasps escaping her lips as her eyes pinch shut, body tensing all around you as she cums against your waiting mouth. You watch her with wide eyes, drinking in every little reaction.
A strand of her lovely brown hair sticks to the side of her face, her long, pale neck exposed. You just want to pepper kisses along every inch of her skin. The way her fingers are tightly gripping your hair burns your scalp, but you revel in the sting because it’s just an expression of her pleasure as she cums for you.
With one last relieved gasp her grip on your head loosens and she collapses into her chair, the wheels clanking as she throws her weight back down onto it. She starts breathily laughing, raising one hand to push her stray hairs behind her ears while she rubs soothing circles against your scalp with the other. 
“Ahh.. You’re right.. You never leave me unsatisfied. You’re so good for me, sweet girl..”
She coos, smiling lazily down at you before she leans forward, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead. You hum happily, a lovesick grin on your lips.
“I’m always happy to be good for you.."
You smile up at her, resting a cheek on her soft, warm thigh. But the sweet moment is short lived, because your features drop and panic sets in when a firm knocking sounds from her office door.
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hwnglx · 2 days
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as requested by anon ღ
jungkook's thoughts about feminism
based on tarot. i do not know these idols personally. energies are always changing. what i say is NOT straight fact. pls take it with a grain of salt!
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so.. jungkook seems conflicted. there's these two sides in him, that are clashing when it comes to feminism.
it's 1, his admiration for women. and 2, his ego.
one side of him thinks, that women essentially rule the world. like, we all basically wouldn't be here if it wasn't for women birthing us, keeping the impulse-driven men in check. i got the strength card, which is literally this strong and powerful woman taming the wild lion in a masterly manner. he believes women are much more capable of restraining themselves, remaining focused on what's important, looking after their responsibilities. women are the actual strong ones in this society, which wouldn't work the way it does without them.
i can sense him thinking there's a lot to be learned by women. i keep seeing him just watching how they function while being in awe. (imagery of the strength card representing a woman in power, the page of pents and page of swords -> young students are next to it looking at her) i'm not sure if he grew up around a lot of strong women, perhaps he had a very influential mother who taught him a lot about life. but there for sure is a genuine sense of respect and appreciation towards women in him, which seems to come from a sincere place.
on the other hand, however.. jungkook is still a korean man. i say this all the time, but many korean men are inclined to believe it's a given for them to be above women by default. many of them were raised with that belief in place, so it's like a natural thought-process most of them have. in that way, it's the standard mindset korean society continues to hold.
this traditional and conservative mindset the majority of society still has, displays a weight on jungkook's back. i can sense he can't always be as candid or outspoken in his admiration for women, because he still can't fully let go of his ego as a powerful man. i can sense there's these societal pressures, and the pressure that comes with being a korean man, which hold him back from further embracing his raw and unfiltered thoughts. they're moreso buried in his subconscious, not something he always lets out freely, might not even be entirely aware of; there's some resistance here. i do however believe, that these inner more progressive views do drive him to, e.g. feel drawn towards dominant and assertive women, or stand up for them at times.
i can also see he might be surrounded by a good amount of men who are still quite traditional in their beliefs, which can bury his own opinions further down.
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thinkinginpen · 11 hours
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Stop Me Now Part 2
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a/n: I had to write part two. I loved the first one so much pairing: dbf!logan x reader w/c: 4.1k warnings: age gap, arguing, angst, being kicked out summary: Your dad found out and it didn't end well. But you had a boyfriend now... you couldn't go back to Logan...
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It had been three months. Three months since you last saw Logan. Three months since you walked out the door, leaving behind a trail of heartache and memories.
The absence of the one you loved left an emptiness in your heart like a cold, lonely vacuum. Three months passed like a slow, endless dream, and the memories you had with Logan still lingered like sweet, bittersweet ghosts in your mind.
That feeling of love was evident in every detail. The way he protected you, showing his deep care and concern, and the way he was so passionate and engaged in arguments, even when you disagreed. It was more than just lust or casual interest, it was a deeper connection born from a genuine love.
Despite what Logan had said, the love you shared still felt real and true. Perhaps your father wouldn't have approved, and maybe it seemed wrong on the surface. But none of that changed the authenticity of the love and connection you had with Logan.
At the sound of your dad's knock, your thoughts were suddenly interrupted, and your heart leaped in your chest. "Logan's here," your dad said softly through the door.
You froze for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. The thought of seeing him again after these three months filled you with...
Anger.
You felt a wave of anger and frustration wash over you as you heard your dad's casual announcement. Why was Logan here now, after all these months of silence? Did he think he could just show up unannounced, as if nothing had happened between you?
As you took a deep breath to calm yourself, your mind was racing with conflicting emotions. Part of you wanted to see him, to hear his voice and feel his presence once again. But another part of you was still hurt and angry about the way things had ended.
"What does he want?" you asked your dad, trying to keep your tone even.
Your dad hesitated for a moment, sensing your confusion and frustration. "He is over for dinner honey," he responded. "What else? He missed his best friend's, AKA my, soup."
Logan was here for dinner? He was going to be sitting right across from you, just like old times? Of course, your dad never knew what happened between Logan and you so this didn't seem weird to him. To him nothing had changed. Logan was still supposedly "Uncle Wolvie" as far as he knew.
You felt a pang of guilt as you thought about your dad's ignorance. He had no idea how complex your relationship with Logan had been. And now, he was hosting him for a cozy dinner, completely oblivious to the truth.
"I don't know if I can do this," you muttered under your breath. Spending an evening with Logan, pretending everything was normal, was the last thing you wanted to do right now.
As you made your way into the dining room, you saw Logan sitting there, smiling at you, but you could see the thoughts running through his mind. He was thinking the same thing you were… This was going to be a long dinner.
Your dad, oblivious to the tension in the air, was happily setting the table and chatting away. "Ah, there she is," he exclaimed, as you entered the room. "Sit down honey, dinner's almost ready."
You forced a smile in response to your dad's cheerful greeting, trying to act like everything was fine. But as you took your seat across from Logan, you could feel the weight of the unspoken tension heavy in the room.
Logan's eyes met yours for a moment before he quickly looked away. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by your dad's cheerful chattering and the clinking of plates and silverware.
Your dad served the meal, and everyone dug in, but the conversation felt forced and stilted. You couldn't bring yourself to look at Logan, and he seemed equally uncomfortable, occasionally sneaking glances at you but mostly focusing on his plate.
As the meal progressed, your dad tried his best to keep the conversation light and cheerful, blissfully unaware of the awkwardness between you and Logan. The atmosphere at the table remained tense and strained, the elephant in the room impossible to ignore.
Logan looked up from his plate and tried to muster a smile. "Not much," he replied, avoiding your gaze. "Just keeping busy, you know."
Your dad nodded, taking another bite of his dinner. "You know, I was just thinking the other day," he continued, oblivious to the tension in the room. "It's been a while since you've come over for dinner."
Logan shrugged nonchalantly, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I've been busy," he said. "But it's good to be here now."
"How about you," Logan nodded to you. "What's new, kid?"
"Not much," you replied, avoiding his gaze. The way he said "kid" felt like a dagger in your heart. It stung to hear him call you that, as if things were still the same between you.
"No exciting adventures?" Logan pressed on, trying to make conversation. But you could hear the strain in his voice, the effort it took him to keep his tone light and casual.
"Actually, I have been dating this one guy lately," you lied, forcing a casual tone. "He's been keeping things pretty interesting."
As soon as the words left your mouth, you saw Logan's expression change. A flicker of surprise and hurt passed over his face, and you took a twisted sense of satisfaction in knowing that you had gotten under his skin.
He tried to maintain his composure, but you could see the tension building in his shoulders. "Oh yeah?" he said, feigning indifference. "What's his name?"
You couldn't help but relish the chance to twist the knife further. "His name is Nate," you said, unable to keep the hint of mockery out of your voice. "He's very generous and sweet."
Logan's jaw clenched as he processed your words. The mention of another man, especially one who was supposedly generous and sweet, seemed to bother him. But he tried to hide his emotions, keeping his tone neutral.
"I see," he said, his voice betraying a hint of jealousy. "Sounds like quite the catch."
You couldn't help but smile at his obvious discomfort. Seeing him struggle with his emotions was a small victory, even if it was all based on a lie.
Your dad cleared the dishes and excused himself to do the dishes in the kitchen, leaving you and Logan alone at the table. The silence between you was deafening as you both sat there, each waiting for the other to speak first.
"I should have seen it fuckin coming."
Logan's sudden remark cut through the silence, his frustration and irritation seeping through his words. He had finally broken the stalemate, and his tone was a mix of anger and resignation.
"Please tell me some of it was fuckin real."
Logan's voice was rough with emotion, desperation laced with hurt. Your heart ached at the pain in his words, but you refused to show weakness. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, searching for answers.
"You told me to leave!" You responded angrily.
"You knew I wanted you," he shot back, his voice filled with raw emotion. "You knew how I felt about you. But you still walked out that damned door, and you never looked back."
"I didn't want to," he hissed. "You think I wanted to push you away? I was trying to protect you!"
"Protect me?" You could feel your anger rising, the pain of his words cutting through you. "Don't bullshit me! You were just scared."
"Damn right I was scared," he admitted, his voice suddenly softer. "Every day we were together was a knife in my gut. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't stay away from you. And if your dad finally found out… I knew I had to end it."
Your heart ached at his confession, but your anger and hurt still raged inside you. "And you expect me to believe that you actually cared? That it wasn't just some fling to you?"
"You know it wasn't," he replied, his voice low and fierce. "How can you even say that? I loved you, damn it. I still love you."
Your dad froze as he walked back into the dining room, realizing that he had walked in on a very charged conversation. The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension, and your dad's face was a mixture of shock and concern.
"Logan…" He said slowly, "Logan that is my daughter…"
Logan went pale, the weight of your dad's words hitting him like a ton of bricks. The guilt and embarrassment on his face were obvious, and he fidgeted in his seat, unable to look your dad in the eye.
"How long has this been going on?" your dad asked, his voice betraying a mix of anger and disappointment.
Logan interrupted you, his voice loud and furious. "It's not fucking over!"
Your dad's gaze flicked back and forth between you and Logan, his expression a mix of surprise and anger. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you knew that everything was about to blow up.
"You told me to leave! I fucking left!"
"Not out of choice!" Logan's voice was rising in volume, his frustration and anger reaching a boiling point.
"You walked out without a fight!" he yelled, his emotions getting the better of him. "You gave up on us… on me!"
Your dad held up his hand, trying to calm things down. "Whoa, whoa, let's all take a deep breath-"
"Don't you tell me to take a damn breath!" Logan snapped, his eyes still fixated on you. "You have no idea what you put me through!"
Your dad stepped closer, his voice firm. "Logan, you need to calm down. This is still my house, and I won't have you yelling at my daughter, or at me. Now take a breath and talk to me like a grown-ass man."
"What are you gonna do about it?" Logan shot back, his voice hard and challenging. "Kick my ass? Go ahead and try it."
Your dad clenched his fists, clearly struggling to control his own temper. He was seething with anger, his eyes fixed on Logan. "Logan, you better shut that damn mouth-"
But Logan was beyond rationality. "Or what?" he taunted, his voice full of bravado. "You'll do what? You gonna hit me? Go ahead. I dare you."
"Don't talk to my dad like that Logan! You caused this!"
"I caused this?" Logan exclaimed, his voice filled with disbelief and hurt. "You think this is all my fault? You're not innocent in this either!"
"I never said I was," you snapped. "But I'm not the one who started this whole mess in the first place."
"You wanted it just as much as I did!" Logan countered heatedly. "Don't sit there and act like you were some innocent victim! I didn't rape you!"
Your dad flinched at Logan's words, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "Watch your language," he warned, his voice firm.
But Logan was too far gone to listen. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said mockingly. "Should I censor myself for your precious ears? You have no idea what we've been through!"
"Logan stop!"
He ignored you, his anger and hurt fueling his words. "No, I won't stop!" he shouted. "You don't get to act like I'm the bad guy here! You were just as responsible as I was, if not more! I didn't force you into anything! I remember everything! Every sound you made! Every laugh! Every smile!"
Your heart ached as he revealed the depth of his feelings, but you tried to push past the pain. "That doesn't change the fact that you ended it!" you retorted, your voice breaking.
"I had to!" he exclaimed, his voice ragged. "Don't you think I wanted you? I'm hundreds of years older than you! Your dad would have killed me if he found out!"
"I know now Logan. Get out."
Your dad's voice was firm, his tone leaving no room for argument. Logan's eyes flicked between the two of you, his anger and frustration warring with his conflicted feelings. He knew he was outnumbered and out of options. With a clenched jaw, he pushed back from the table and stood up.
For a moment, the room was eerily silent. All you could hear was the sound of your dad's heavy breathing. You could feel his disappointment and anger practically radiating off of him.
Finally, your dad spoke, his voice low and controlled. "We need to talk."
Your heart sank at his words. You knew this conversation was not going to be easy. "Okay," you whispered, your voice trembling.
Your dad led you to the couch and sat down heavily. He took a deep breath before speaking. "What the hell are the two of you thinking?" he started, his voice carefully measured.
"I can't even begin to wrap my head around this," he continued, shaking his head in disbelief. "How long has this been going on?"
You couldn't meet his gaze as you answered. "A few months," you mumbled, feeling shame burn in your gut. "But we stopped."
Your dad's eyes widened in shock, his anger and disappointment clear. "A few months?" he repeated, his voice tight. "And you didn't think to tell me? How could you keep something like this a secret?"
You fidgeted under his scrutiny, feeling like a child being scolded. "I… I don't know," you mumbled, your voice small. "I was scared. I knew you would be mad."
"Damn right I'm mad!" your dad exclaimed, his voice rising. "I have every right to be. You've been lying to me, hiding something huge, and with a man old enough to be your father!"
"It's not just that," he continued, his anger still palpable. "Logan. Of all people, Logan. He's like a brother to me, and he was my closest friend… And you two…. How could you?"
You flinched under the weight of his disappointment. You knew you had messed up, and there was no way to make it right. "We… We can't help who we fall in love with," you mumbled, the words feeling hollow.
Your dad let out a humorless bark of laughter. "Love? This isn't love," he spat, his voice filled with anger and disbelief. "This is a mess. A huge, messy, wrong-on-so-many-levels mess. And you two dragged me right into it. It's lust."
Your eyes stung with tears as his words sunk in. "It's not just that," you protested, your voice shaky. "We care about each other-"
"Care about each other?" Your dad's voice was dripping with disbelief. "You don't know the meaning of care. Not at your age. This is just lust, plain and simple. Logan knows better. He should have had the sense to pull away before it went too far."
Your heart ached at his words. You knew he was right that Logan should have known better, but you couldn't help how you felt. "I can't just stop feeling the way I do," you muttered, your voice cracking. "I love him."
"You don't even know what love is," your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You're just caught up in the excitement of sneaking around, of doing something forbidden. It's all a game to you, a thrill. How did it start?"
You winced at his words, knowing deep down that he was partially right. You didn't know what love was. Not really. "It just… happened," you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. "When he was over… and you left for work… and you told him to take care of me… We…"
"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"
"You what?" your dad pressed fiercely, his voice filled with disbelief. "When I left you alone with Logan?"
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. "We… we ended up on the couch," you admitted, the words coming out in a rush. "And one thing led to another… and we just… kept meeting up… when we could."
Your dad let out a weary sigh, rubbing his hand over his face. "So you've been sneaking around right under my nose," he said, his voice weary now. "While I trusted you. While I trusted him."
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, feeling the shame and guilt well up inside you. "I know I messed up, but I can't help how I feel. I love him. I have for a long time-"
Your dad's eyes narrowed at your words. "You have a boyfriend dammit!"
"I know!" you exclaimed, tears welling up in your eyes. "But it doesn't change how I feel about Logan. It doesn't change the fact that I love him!"
"You don't even know what love is," your dad repeated, his voice firm. "You're just a kid. You're hormonal. You're impressionable. You're not thinking straight."
"I am!" you protested, tears streaming down your face now. "I do know what love is. I know what I feel for Logan. You can't tell me that my feelings aren't real just because I'm young-"
"I can and I will," your dad shot back. "You don't know the first thing about love. You're just infatuated. It's a crush. It will pass. And when it does, you'll realize how foolish this all was. But in the meantime get out!"
Your heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. "What?" you whimpered, your voice trembling. "You're kicking me out?"
"Damn right I am!" your dad retorted, his voice hard. "You broke my trust. You went behind my back. You thought you could deceive me and sneak around without any consequences. Well, now you're going to face the music. Pack a bag."
Fresh tears streamed down your face as you realized he was serious. You stumbled to your feet and rushed to your room, grabbing a bag and throwing clothes into it, your mind racing. This couldn't be happening.
Your mind was a whirlwind of confused and conflicting emotions as you packed. Anguish, guilt, hurt, anger, and fear all vied for dominance. You could hear your dad’s voice drifting in from the living room, a mixture of anger and disappointment. As you shoved the last of your belongings into your bag, you tried to collect yourself, wiping your tears on your sleeve.
With a final glance around your room, you took a deep breath and walked back into the living room, your heart in your throat. Your dad looked up as you entered. His expression was unreadable, but his jaw was set and his eyes were like steel.
"Are you packed?" he asked gruffly, his voice betraying none of the emotion that must have been swirling within him too.
You nodded, unable to speak for fear of bursting into tears again. Your dad’s eyes flicked over your bag, then back to your face. The silence stretched between you, heavy and uncomfortable.
Finally, your dad let out a heavy sigh. "Well, get going then," he said, his voice as neutral as he could manage.
The words hit you like a punch to the gut, causing fresh tears to spill down your cheeks. "But… But where am I supposed to go?" you managed to croak out, your voice betraying your fear and confusion.
Your dad's expression softened just a fraction. "That's not my problem," he said, his voice still tense. "You made your bed, now you have to lie in it. I can't have you under my roof when you've been deceiving me like this."
It felt like being stabbed in the heart. You had hoped that, despite his anger and disappointment, he would still have some compassion for you. But his words left no room for doubt. You were being pushed out. "You don’t care what happens to me?" you whispered, your voice small and hurt.
Your dad's face tightened, the lines in his forehead deepening. "Don't put words in my mouth," he snapped. "Of course I care about what happens to you. I’m your dad. But I can't condone what you've done. You've betrayed my trust and disobeyed my rules. You need to learn that actions have consequences."
You nodded, understanding the message. Your tears continued to fall silently as the full weight of your actions crashed down on you. You had crossed a line, and now you were being sent away because of it.
"Go stay with Logan," your dad said, his voice flat. "You like him so much, maybe he can take care of you for a while. See how long your little fantasy world lasts out in the real world."
Shock and disbelief flashed through you at his words. "What?" you exclaimed, your voice rising. "You're sending me to him? After everything that's happened? You can't be serious!"
"No, I'm not joking," your dad said sternly. "You want Logan so badly? Go to him. Let him deal with you for a while. See how he likes having to be responsible for a spoiled, disobedient teenager who has no concept of the real world."
Your heart felt like it was being torn in half. You had never thought it would come to this. "I… I can't stay with him," you protested, your voice thick with tears. "I don't think he even wants me there! And I have a boyfriend!"
Your dad's eyes darkened at the mention of your boyfriend. "You should have thought about that before you started sneaking around behind my back," he snapped. "And Logan can deal with it. He's a big boy. Maybe it's time for him to put his money where his mouth is."
You felt numb as the truth of his words hit you. There was no point trying to argue. You knew your dad had made up his mind. "Fine," you mumbled, your voice hollow. "I'll go."
With that you walked out. It was late and cold. You pulled out your phone and did something you thought you never would again.
"Can you come get me?"
There was a long pause as you waited anxiously, the cold night air stinging your skin. You shivered and hugged your bag closer to your chest, feeling completely alone. Then, finally, your phone buzzed with a reply.
Lo: "Where are you?"
The short message was all that was sent, but it was enough.
You sent him your location and then waited, teeth chattering as the cold seeped into your bones. It felt like an eternity until a familiar car pulled up next to you, the interior warm and inviting.
You opened the door and quickly slid into the passenger seat, the heat of the car like a balm to your freezing body. You avoided looking at the man at the wheel, but you could feel the tension thick in the air.
There was a long, uncomfortable silence as the car pulled away from the curb. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, your chest aching with a strange mixture of guilt, shame, and a small flicker of… something else.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the car pulled into a quiet, residential street, coming to a stop in front of a small house. The engine fell silent, but neither of you made a move to get out. You glanced at him, the light of the street lamp casting a dim glow over his features.
He was staring straight ahead, his hands clenching the steering wheel. His jaw was set and his expression solemn. The line of his shoulders was tense, his body taut like a coil ready to spring. It was clear that he had a lot he wanted to say, but was holding himself back.
The silence between you was thick and charged. He finally turned his gaze from the front windshield to look at you, his eyes dark and intense. "We need to talk," he said, his voice soft but firm.
A mixture of fear and anticipation fluttered in your stomach, the weight of his words settling heavily on your shoulders. "Okay," you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible over the rapid pounding of your heart.
He pushed open the driver's side door, gesturing for you to follow. You got out of the car, the cold air hitting you like a slap in the face. You shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself as you followed him up the path to his front door.
He unlocked the door, holding it open for you. You stepped into the warm, cozy interior, feeling a mixture of relief and trepidation. The house was small, but comfortable, and you could see glimpses of his life in every corner. Photos on the walls, books on the shelves, a jacket slung over the back of a chair.
He closed the door behind you and then leaned against it, his body blocking the only exit. He didn't say anything, just watched you, his eyes roaming over your face and body as if trying to figure you out.
"Sit."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Part 1 Part 2
🏷️: @fablehaven-rulez
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ssailormoonn · 2 days
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❛ REPUTATION ❜
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YANDERE!Chrollo Lucilfer X Fem!Reader
WC; 900+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: chrollo is a yandere here, well he def ats like one, fem!reader, virgin!reader, AGE GAP, gonna say reader is around 18-20 bc she a virgin and a good girl, chrollo is still 26, possessiveness, claiming + more
⋆·˚ ༘ * REQUEST :: (filled request) Hi! Could you please write with yandere Chrollo and virgin female reader(she likes him, but didn’t want to be with him because of his reputation) - ANON
HONEY'S A/NOTE :: I WAS FEELING DIFFERENT DONT MIND THE PINK/PEACH THEME LMAO, lmk if you like it tho 👀
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You knew this was a mistake the moment you caught his eye.
Chrollo Lucilfer was the type of man who commanded attention. He's dark, unreadable, and dangerous. You'd been warned by friends, by acquaintances, by common sense to steer clear of him. None of them knew that he was the leader of the Phantom troupe, but they could tell that something was up with him.
You, on the other hand, knew very well who he was. He had made it loud and clear that should you ever leave or do anything rash, Chrollo was in a position to threaten you with all he could do. Every time being on duty with him, fear always boiled up inside your stomach.
But the fear that was evident within you, there was just something so irresistible about him, something that couldn't make you stay away no matter how much you did. Chrollo's presence causes your heart to beat in ways that it really shouldn't. You, however, because of his reputation, are to be kept from him.
But standing now in this darkened room, boxed in by his stare, one knew there was no more escaping Chrollo.
Not anymore.
"I know what you're thinking," his voice is like silk. "You're afraid of me, you think you can keep your distance because of what you've heard. But you forget one thing."
He leans in closer, each movement intentional. His dark eyes never left yours, staring with an intensity that would make you want to shrink under his gaze, at the same time you wouldn't be able to look away.
"You want me, too."
Your breath had caught in your throat. How could he know? You'd tried so hard to conceal it, to deny the pull you felt whenever you were near him. It was wrong, all wrong. But his tone made it sound as though you had no say in the matter.
"Chrollo, I... I can't." Your voice less than a whisper. "You're dangerous. I don't want to get involved in. whatever this is. whatever you do."
He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, and the touch sent your heart racing even faster. You suck in the air shakily while your lip trembled softly.
"I know that's hard to accept," he whispered, almost softly. "But I've made my decision already. You are mine. "
There was a finality in his words that dropped the bottom of your stomach into a sick feeling. This wasn't a silly love confession, this... this was more like he was claiming you. And much as you tried to deny it, the thought stirred something within you.
"Chrollo, I... I am not." You had managed to stammer out the words while a hot fire had burned in your cheeks.
How would you even explain that you have never been with anybody in your life? That part of you does want him, but the fear of his world and your inexperience holds you back? You have never done a relationship in your life, never kissed anyone, never touched anyone, never had sex.
His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze once more. Something... changed in his gaze.
"You're scared of what you don't know," he whispered. "That's okay. I can be patient. But don't you ever think otherwise. I will have you. Every piece of you."
His hand slid down, stroking your jawline, and a chill ran down your body. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his claim over you. It was terrifying and yet you enjoyed it.
"You can run from me if you want," he said, continuing now in a voice so much lower it terrified you. "But I'll find you. Always get what I want."
Your chest constricted as Chrollo left you no choice. He made it clear no matter what you did, he would find you and when he did. he would take you in every sense of the word.
"I. I don't want to be a part of your world," you finally stammered out, beyond your shaking lips. "I can't."
He chuckled low and it was a shiver you felt run over your skin under his touch. "It doesn't matter. You're already a part of it. The moment I laid eyes on you, it was over. For both of us."
You opened your mouth to protest, but the words died in your throat as he leaned in, his lips caressing the shell of your ear.
"Accept it, love," he whispered. "You can't get away from me. Not now, not ever." "N-" Chrollo cut you off, his lips trailing up your neck, his voice low, humming against your skin. "You don't struggle against me. I'm going to take care of you. No one else can have you now. Can't you see? You're already mine, and nothing you say will change that."
His breathing was hot against your skin, the weakness rising inside you as the fear coiled in your body. But despite that, despite all you knew of him, the fact that he wanted you with such intent sent your heart racing within your chest.
Honestly, could you resist?
He drew back just enough to look into your eyes, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He knew. Your gaze betrayed your thoughts, and he noticed, of course he fucking noticed.
"You're mine," he leans down, his warm breath dancing across your ear as your hands clench into fists against his black suit, trembling. "And I will make sure you never forget it."
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Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.
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calirph · 2 days
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𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒.
all sentences were taken from various scenarios related to arranged marriages mostly in the historical, fantasy or medieval setting. you can use them as base for starters or change place, pronouns as you see fit.
1. Arranged Marriages:
"You’ll be wed to him by sunset, whether you like it or not. The banners are already being stitched."
"Your union will bring peace to the realms. That’s all that matters now."
"I don't know him, Father. How am I to trust a man I've never met?"
"This marriage is a treaty, not a love match. Smile and seal the fate of our kingdom."
"The King has decreed it, and his word is law. You will marry the lord from the north."
2. Civil Marriages:
"It’s been agreed that we will marry, but it doesn’t mean we have to care for one another."
"Our union will be one of duty, not affection. I expect you to know your role."
"There will be no grand feast. Let us sign the papers, exchange vows, and be done with it."
"Marriage is a bond of power, not of the heart. We shall be civil, nothing more."
"Our marriage may not be one of love, but it will be a prosperous one."
3. Animosity Marriages:
"You think this marriage will bring me to heel? You’ll find I am not so easily tamed."
"Marry you? I would sooner take a blade to the throat than suffer beside you."
"I hate you as much as you hate me, but if it secures the throne, I’ll say the vows."
"This is no marriage, it's a prison, and you're the jailer."
"Forced to marry my enemy? I'd rather fight him on the battlefield than share his bed."
4. Marriages of Convenience:
"We both know what this is—a transaction. I expect no less than what we agreed upon."
"Our marriage will benefit us both. We need not speak of love, only power."
"Convenience. That’s all it is. We’ll play our roles and nothing more."
"It may not be what either of us wanted, but it is what we both need."
"A marriage of convenience is still a marriage. We shall gain what we desire and go our separate ways."
5. Secret Marriages:
"No one must know of this union. We can’t afford to let our enemies find out."
"By dawn, we’ll be wed in secret, and none will suspect what we've done."
"The gods have witnessed our vows, but no one else must."
"This marriage must remain hidden until the time is right."
"Our love must be kept in shadows. We cannot risk the kingdom’s wrath."
1. Shock:
"You’re marrying who? Surely, this must be some jest."
"No, I refuse to believe it! They wouldn't force me into this!"
"They have announced our marriage without even consulting me?"
"You mean to tell me my life has been decided with a mere letter?"
"Marriage? To him? I would rather be banished."
2. Calm Acceptance:
"I knew this day would come. There is no use fighting it now."
"So, this is to be my fate? Very well, I shall prepare for the wedding."
"It seems the council has made their choice. I suppose I’ll have to make mine."
"I always knew I wouldn’t marry for love. I’ll wear the crown, if that is what they wish."
"The marriage has been decided? Then let us move forward."
3. Dread:
"This can’t be happening. How could they bind me to someone so cruel?"
"I cannot—will not—marry them. Not after everything they've done."
"Marriage? To him? He’ll ruin me. He’ll ruin everything."
"How could they arrange this without my consent? I can’t do this."
"They cannot force me into this union. I will find a way out."
4. Surprise:
"A marriage? But I wasn’t even aware there were negotiations!"
"Married? To him? I thought they would never agree to it."
"Well, that was… unexpected. When is the ceremony?"
"The marriage has been arranged? I didn’t think anyone would ever want to wed me."
"I hadn’t anticipated a proposal, much less a marriage contract. How long have they been planning this?"
5. Reluctant Acceptance:
"If this is what must be done to keep the peace, then so be it."
"I never wanted this, but I’ll do my duty for the sake of the realm."
"Marriage was never my choice, but I will fulfill my obligations."
"It seems I have no say in the matter. I’ll prepare for the wedding."
"This is not the life I wanted, but if it is what the kingdom demands, I will marry."
6. Demaning the Marriage:
"You will marry him, or you’ll have no place in this house any longer." "I demand you fulfill your duty and marry the prince. It is for the good of the realm." "Your father’s last wish was for you to marry. You will honor it." "You’ll marry me, or I’ll see you cast out of every noble house in this kingdom." "The treaty demands this marriage, and so do I. You will not defy the crown." "I expect you to stand beside him at the altar. There is no other option." "Your marriage to her is the only thing that can save this alliance. You will do as you’re told." "Marry him, or the war will continue. This is your chance to stop the bloodshed." "You’ve been betrothed since childhood. Now, it’s time to fulfill that promise." "I demand you take her hand in marriage, or you will lose everything." "Marry me, or your family’s lands will be forfeit to the crown." "You have no choice. This marriage will happen, with or without your blessing." "The fate of your house depends on this marriage. You will not refuse." "You’ll marry him, or your title will be stripped from you." "Marry her, or the crown will consider it an act of treason." "This marriage is not a request—it’s a command." "You owe it to the family to marry her. The survival of our name depends on it." "There will be no further debate. You will marry him." "The council has decided, and you will marry. There is no escaping this." "This marriage has been arranged, and you will see it through." "You will wed her, or your family’s debts will never be forgiven." "Marry him, or you’ll be cast out of every noble circle in this land." "The marriage is necessary for the alliance. You will go through with it." "You’ll marry, or the consequences will be dire for your entire family." "This marriage isn’t just for you. It’s for the realm. You will marry."
7. Refusing the Marriage.
"I refuse to marry him. You can send me to the gallows, but I won’t say the vows." "You may have my life, but you will never have my hand in marriage." "I will not marry her. Not today, not ever." "I will die before I am bound to a man I despise." "I refuse to be a pawn in this marriage game." "This marriage is a mistake, and I will not be a part of it." "I cannot marry him. My heart belongs to another." "I will not be forced into a marriage I did not choose." "The crown may demand it, but I will not be forced into this union." "I will not marry her, no matter the consequences." "I’ll run away before I let them marry me to him." "You can’t force me into this. I refuse to marry him!" "The answer is no. I will not marry someone I do not love." "I cannot and will not marry him. No one can make me." "I will not be sold into a marriage like a piece of livestock." "My answer is final—I will not marry her." "This is not the life I wanted, and I will not marry him." "No amount of persuasion will force me into this marriage." "I will not be tied to a man who sees me as nothing more than a prize." "I refuse to be part of this political game. I won’t marry her." "You can threaten me all you like, but I will not marry him." "I will not marry for duty. I will marry for love, or not at all." "The marriage contract is torn. I will not wed him." "No force on earth will make me stand before an altar with him." "I will not be bound by chains of a marriage I did not choose."
8. Accepting or Warming up to Marriage:
"Perhaps this marriage isn’t such a terrible idea after all. It could bring more than just peace." "I’ve had time to think, and maybe… just maybe, this could work." "I never thought I’d say this, but I’m beginning to see the value in our union." "At first, I resisted, but now… the idea of marriage doesn’t seem so unbearable." "It may not have been my choice, but I’m starting to understand why it has to be this way." "The more I think on it, the more I realize that this marriage might actually be good for both of us." "I can’t deny that there’s strength in unity. Perhaps marriage is the best path forward." "I didn’t expect to say this, but I’m willing to give this marriage a chance." "I’ve come to terms with it. This marriage could bring something more than I first imagined." "I’ve fought it for so long, but maybe… it’s time to accept my fate." "You know, I think we could make this marriage work, if we’re both willing." "Strange, isn’t it? How the idea of marriage once repelled me, but now… it feels like the right course." "I used to hate the thought of it, but now I see there might be a future in this marriage." "I’m starting to believe that we can find happiness in this arrangement, even if it wasn’t love at first." "At first, I feared this union, but now… now I think we could build something real." "It wasn’t my first choice, but I’ve realized we might find more than just duty in this marriage." "I never thought I’d come around to the idea, but this marriage could bring more than just titles and lands." "I’ve had my doubts, but perhaps we can make this more than just an alliance." "If we’re both committed to this marriage, I believe we could find peace—and maybe something more." "I once thought I’d be miserable, but now I see… perhaps there’s hope for us after all." "We might not have chosen each other, but I think there’s a way forward in this marriage." "I didn’t expect to ever feel this way, but I’m beginning to look forward to our wedding." "Maybe this marriage was meant to be. There’s potential for more here than either of us anticipated." "I used to dread the idea of being married, but with you… maybe it won’t be so bad." "It seems strange to say, but I’m actually beginning to warm to the idea of being your spouse."
9. The wedding night.
"So… this is it, then? Our wedding night. Are you as nervous as I am?" "I know we’re bound by duty, but tonight… let’s forget everything else and just be ourselves." "Do you think we’ll remember this night with fondness? Or as just another part of our duty?" "I won’t pretend this isn’t strange, but… we’ve made it this far. Let’s take the rest one step at a time." "You don’t need to worry. Tonight will be whatever we choose it to be." "This is the part of marriage no one really talks about, isn’t it?" "There’s no rush. We’ve just the night and the rest of our lives ahead of us." "Are you sure you're comfortable with this? We can go slow if that’s what you prefer." "I’ve waited for this moment for so long, but now that it’s here… I don’t know where to begin." "There’s no need for fear. We’re in this together now, for better or worse." "I know you didn’t choose this marriage, but tonight… I hope we can find some common ground." "I never thought I’d say this, but I’m actually looking forward to this part of the wedding." "This night doesn’t have to be perfect. Just… ours." "I’ve been told what’s expected of us, but I’d rather we create our own expectations." "We’re alone now. No court, no family, just us. What do you want tonight to be?" "You look… beautiful. I know this isn’t easy, but I want you to know I’m here for you." "We’ve gone through the ceremony. Now comes the real challenge, doesn’t it?" "I hope you don’t expect too much from me tonight. I’ve never done this before." "No one ever told me how awkward a wedding night might be. Shall we just talk for a while?" "Tonight is about more than just obligation. I want this to mean something for both of us." "I’m not sure what happens next, but I’d like to figure it out together." "It’s just you and me now. No expectations, no pressure—just us." "Shall we make this night one to remember for something other than just duty?" "I know this is part of the marriage, but… I want you to know you have a choice in how it goes." "We can take our time. This night is ours, and no one else’s."
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poohsources · 9 hours
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🐝  *  ―  𝑬𝑷𝑰𝑪: 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑼𝑺𝑰𝑪𝑨𝑳 𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑺.
Troy Saga ❛  do what i say and you'll see them again.  ❜ ❛  what do you live for? what do you try for?  ❜ ❛  say no more, i know tat i'm ready.  ❜ ❛  the blood on your hands is something you won't lose.  ❜ ❛  is the price i pay endless pain?  ❜ ❛  something feels off here, i see fire but there's no smoke.  ❜ ❛  we should try to find a way no one ends up dead.  ❜ ❛  why should we take when we could give?  ❜ ❛  i see in your face, there's so much guilt inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  have you forgotten the lessons i taught you?  ❜
The Cyclops Saga ❛  it's almost too perfect, too god to be true.  ❜ ❛  what gives you the right to deal a pain so deep?  ❜ ❛  your life now is in my hand.  ❜ ❛  remember them, we're the ones who carry on.  ❜ ❛  what good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?  ❜ ❛  i am your darkest moment.  ❜ ❛  i don't know where i went wrong but i warned ya', and you failed the test.  ❜ ❛  that's just like you, why should i be surprised?  ❜ ❛  unlike you, every time someone dies i'm left to deal with the strain.  ❜ ❛  i'll remind you i saw you as a friend but now we're done.  ❜
The Ocean Saga ❛  at this rate, we won't make it out alive.  ❜ ❛  please don't tell me you're about to do what i think you'll do.  ❜ ❛  yes, but how much longer til your luck runs out?  ❜ ❛  you rely on wit, and people die on it.  ❜ ❛  you're like the brother i could never do without.  ❜ ❛  and suddenly you doubt that i could figure this out?  ❜ ❛  keep your friends close and your enemies closer, never really know who you can trust.  ❜ ❛  'cause the end always justifies the means.  ❜ ❛  do you know who i am?  ❜ ❛  you are the worst kind of good 'cause you're not even great.  ❜
The Circe Saga ❛  whatever you need to say can wait some more.  ❜ ❛  there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save.  ❜ ❛  wouldn't you like a taste of the power?  ❜ ❛  don't thank me friend, you very well may die.  ❜ ❛  did you do something to them?  ❜ ❛  if you make one wrong move, then you're done for.  ❜ ❛  you and i are now evenly matched.  ❜ ❛  you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.  ❜ ❛  who's to say, with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?  ❜ ❛  this is the price we pay to love.  ❜
The Underworld Saga ❛  all i hear are screams, every time i dare to close my eyes.  ❜ ❛  i no longer dream, only nigtmares of those who've died.  ❜ ❛  when does a man become a monster?  ❜ ❛  now you tell us our effort's are for nothing?  ❜ ❛  how has everything been turned against us?  ❜ ❛  do i need to change?  ❜ ❛  i'm the only one whose line i haven't crossed.  ❜ ❛  what if i'm the problem that's been hiding all along?  ❜ ❛  what if i've been far too kind to foes but a monster to ourselves?  ❜ ❛  if i became the monster and threw that guilt away would that make us stronger?  ❜
The Thunder Saga ❛  you wouldn't have spared me. i made a mistake like this, it almost cost my life.  ❜ ❛  i've got a secret i can no longer keep.  ❜ ❛  you know that we are the same.  ❜ ❛  we must do what it takes to survive.  ❜ ❛  tell me you did not know that would happen.  ❜ ❛  if you want all the power, you must carry all the blame.  ❜ ❛  how are we supposed to trust you now?  ❜ ❛  how much longer must i suffer now?  ❜ ❛  someone's gotta die today and you have got the final say.  ❜ ❛  please don't make me do this.  ❜
The Wisdom Saga ❛  you've made your worst mistake here.  ❜ ❛  this cruel world doesn't give out presents just for being good.  ❜ ❛  you're my friend, i couldn't ask for more.  ❜ ❛  did you know you talk in your sleep?  ❜ ❛  i'm what you want here, i'm what you need here.  ❜ ❛  you don't know what i've gone through.  ❜ ❛  i know your life's been hard, i'll stay inside your heart.  ❜ ❛  life would be so much worse if you had died.  ❜ ❛  you dare to defy me, to make me feel shame?  ❜ ❛  no one beats me, no one wins my game.  ❜
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venus-is-thinking · 2 days
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DRDT Chapter 2 Episode 14: Initial Thoughts
What an episode! I can't believe that we're probably starting to near the end of the Trial. But, considering we're almost there, we DEFINITELY have a lot to talk about. It's a longer episode, and there's a LOT to go over, so buckle in!
SPOILER WARNING FOR DRDT CH 2 PART 2!
T/W: Murder, hanging (with depictions)
The Reactions
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Hu is literally so pretty.
I wasn't expecting her to get a whole mechanic defending Nico, but it makes sense. Letting other students cut in during the Class Trial is a great way to draw specific attention to a character point, and it's very clear that Hu's over-defense of Nico is going to be important moving forwards.
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RIP to my "using the weight rack as the carousel" theory. The fan probably makes more sense. I just still have no idea how the 300-ish pound or whatever weight rack managed to get knocked over in the struggle.
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I'm glad they directly pointed this out. Trying to kill everyone in the Class Trial was the EXACT thing Hu was so pressed about David doing. It's a weird double standard to be so forgiving of Nico when they tried to do the same thing.
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Insane thing to say if Eden is the culprit and killed Arei because she didn't believe her. Then again, if my explanation for a lot of Eden Trial dialogue is "she's speaking out of regret for killing Arei now that she knows Arei was being legit," maybe she's just calling herself cruel as well.
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This is honestly very valid.
Do you think "here" implies Nico trusts someone in the outside world? Based on their secret, it seems like they probably didn't have many friends. Could also be referring to animals? Or Mai Akasaki?
Big psychic damage to Hu though, considering we know she thrives on other people relying on her. She wants Nico to be someone who relies on her sooo bad, but they just... don't.
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Like, girl. They literally JUST said that they don't trust anyone. That includes you.
She's clearly projecting in some way, though, which is definitely an oof. I wonder if Hu wishes she had someone who was undeniably on her side in the past...?
(To be clear: I think Hu is a very well written and interesting character. She fits the fucked up vibes of Despair Time, but coming from a more surprising angle of "that really nice and caring person can also be fucked up." She's just clearly in the wrong here, so I get to clown on her as I clown on everyone else.)
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Ace is honestly so valid for this. Like, yeah he's kind of a bully and he sucks sometimes, but. Like. He did almost get murdered and people are, like, mad at him for it? Huh???
If Ace does end up being the Chapter 2 killer because he snapped, I honestly think he's so valid for that.
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It is my personal agenda to record every instance of J being notably anti-murder. I don't know where it's going but if it does go somewhere I want my credit because it is Apparent.
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(The entire fanbase nods in agreement.)
I know some people definitely still think/thought that Hu and/or Nico was responsible for the crime, so we've all DEFINITELY been squinting at that alibi. I fully believe it's true, but that doesn't change the fact that I wouldn't put it past Hu to make a fake alibi to protect Nico. Idk if Nico would go along with it, though.
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I got so jumpscared by the Closing Argument-style CG.
I'm so glad we did get a definitive answer on how this thing worked. I was so afraid that we were just gonna solve the Arei murder method and the exact solution of Ace's would be a "left to audience interpretation" kind of thing.
I'm not exactly sure where the blood on Ace's fingertips comes from? Maybe he cut his hand on the wire when he was trying to struggle after he woke up or something.
This makes so much more sense than anything I saw theorized though, lol. The fan falling from drop hanging totally checks out as a way that the murder mechanism could fail.
I have NO fucking clue why Nico opted for this as the murder mechanism, though. I get wanting to use Hu's wire to frame her, but why didn't you just cut Ace's throat with the wire in the first place???
where did their cape go :(
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Potentially suspicious line from Ace? I don't know what he's referring to as "go through all this." Like, maybe just reliving the murder attempt, I guess...? Could also be going through the Class Trial, though, if Ace killed as a result of Nico trying to kill him.
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*Levi's secret quote looms*
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Things that make me think Nico is either a victim or a survivor. Like, are you really gonna say this and then go try to kill someone else? ...Or Ace again, I guess??
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Fun fact: this was actually what guided me to my initial killer picks, before I discussed with anyone else or read any theories! I thought the killer was trying to frame Nico, so it had to be Eden or Ace. The tape and everything else was just what locked it in for me. It's fun to see Teruko follow more or less the same path that I did when I was trying to solve the mystery :)
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TAPE TIME :D
The use of the Bound Wrists truth bullet actually really confused me at first bc I didn't realize we were just talking about the tape. I was like, were Arei's wrists bound because Ace's were and it was intended to be another similarity???
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Maybe Eden's just being nice, but I find it really suspicious that her instinct after all this time is "didn't MonoTV take it" and not "oh I guess Ace is probably the murderer."
Teruko has now outlined two different ways that it makes sense if the killer was in the gym that night. If I were Eden, and I were innocent, I would be realizing that there's a very small suspect pool left, and I know that I'm not the killer, giving me additional information. Instead, she's questioning the validity of the tape argument, which isn't useful for narrowing down the killer-- it's useful for keeping the suspect pool wider and not leaving herself as one of three (but basically two) options.
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I kinda get why people are upset with Rose here, but it's also kind of an oof because they're only mad because Rose is really smart. Like, no one's out here like "oh my god Ace you didn't recognize the tape??" Y'know, because they think he's stupid. Rose has a really good memory, which raises the standards really high, which sets Rose up for failure.
In Rose's defense, she also never saw the tape in Nico's gym murder OR on the carousel for Arei's murder. She only saw the pieces in the trash can, which seemed to be inside out. Against Rose's defense, it would probably have been for the best if she'd gone in to look at the crime scene.
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Am I tripping, or is "fish misunderstanding" a weird way for David to phrase this? The misunderstanding with Teruko was assuming that the murder happened last night, which was in fact because of the fish-- but the thing Teruko should have noticed, which makes it Teruko's mistake specifically, was the body swinging.
I'm probably reading into things too hard, but it's so hard with David. What do you know!!!
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Damn, Teruko is SPEEDRUNNING this character arc. Considering we basically know she's locked in for all 6 chapters, I'm really surprised to see her making this much progress this fast.
I'm guessing that this means that Teruko is probably due for a major setback sometime sooner or later. But, interestingly, this makes me feel like Teruko realizing that working alone doesn't work isn't her character arc's end destination; it's the willingness to open herself up to caring about others even in the face of the consequences of losing someone you love. Teruko is closing herself off from everyone because she knows she's going to lose them. Maybe her end destination is allowing herself to love people, even if she might lose them someday.
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This was fruity as hell btw. I'm starting to think Rose may be our replacement support if Charles does die in Chapter 3.
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It's so funny that this is basically Teruko claiming in-universe protag privilege. Go off, queen.
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I also said something along the lines of "Hu are we really doing this again." Totally forgot that the BDA is still relevant, lol.
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I personally find the way Veronika phrased this to be very telling from an author's POV. Veronika doesn't say "she must not have committed the murder," she says "she must not have witnessed the murder." It would be totally reasonable for any of the students to forget that the rule is written in a way where a killer could fail to see the moment of murder, but DRDTdev wanted to draw attention to the rule's exact phrasing again, which is a deviation from the phrasing in the canon games.
To be clear here, I stand by this even if Eden isn't the killer and the BDA group really is Eden/Whit/Teruko. I still think it could be a reminder for a future chapter when it comes up. But, I don't think it makes sense to change the phrasing of a base rule unless there's a specific reason you want it to be different. Whether now or later, this feels like a reminder that it IS possible for the blackened to trigger the BDA.
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I don't necessarily "believe David," per se, but I do think it's interesting that we're drawing attention to this. I don't really think it matters, especially because I doubt the characters remember, but I'd place my bets on Eden being the last one because of that, "Teruko, wait!" thing.
It doesn't matter because, if David or anyone else saw the body, no one can confirm which two of Teruko, Whit and Eden set off the BDA, but it's an interesting note.
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It's so funny how no one, fanbase or in-universe, can tell if David is lying though. Like, he COULD have seen it, but he also easily could just be making shit up to try to throw the Trial again.
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will I EVER understand what the fuck this man is cooking
Why. I thought you wanted to end the killing game to finish what Xander started. I don't know what's happening :( /pos
My guess for now is just that he's still trying to kill Teruko, in keeping with Xander's plans?? Idk how making her more distrustful makes her more likely to die, though.
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I do find it very interesting that Eden's approach/reaction has been to be very quiet and freaked out whereas Ace's approach/reaction is to freak out VERY loudly. Ace's is fitting because what does he do other than freak out loudly, but I might have expected Eden to do... idk, something else? It makes enough sense though, considering either the group is right to suspect her, or she's still coping with losing Arei a little bit ago.
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...*squints REALLY fucking hard*
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The music and voice acting in this section is REALLY fucking good. It's sad/charming/soft enough that it feels like it could be genuine, but there's still a little something that makes you have to question whether or not it's real. You WANT to believe Eden, but it's so hard to do so fully.
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Y'all think Eden's crying is reminding Teruko of whatever Arei's crying reminded her of?
i'm out of images :(
I really like Teruko assuming that Eden is innocent first. She's too distrusting and also reasonable (it is life or death after all) to just hard clear Eden based on nothing, but she's offering a bit of a reprieve to Eden. Eden's friendship means that she isn't going to get immediately targeted in her most down moment, and that's it. It's a small way to show Eden she does care.
On another note, the fact that Eden got to hug Teruko and that Teruko said the "let go of me" NOW is honestly one of the main reasons I trust Eden more. I felt like that was obviously going to happen, but I was expecting the post-Trial. Putting it here is wild.
Theory Update/Analysis
Oh boy, it's accusing time! It makes sense that we're going to start with Ace. At this point, I can honestly see it going either way. Major props to DRDTdev either way, but ESPECIALLY if Eden really is the culprit. I was so confident in it, but they're really making me question my assumptions.
I think that both Ace and Eden have good reasons to be the blackened or not to be, and good reasons to die here or to not. I'm going to do my best to make a list of reasons for both characters and give a bit of my thoughts on them. They're roughly ranked in most to least important order imo, but I didn't think too hard about it.
EDEN
Reasons Eden Would Be The Blackened:
THE TAPE: It would be easier for her to take the tape than Ace, as attention was on Ace in the gym. The tape's disappearance from the background also happens to coincide with Ace knocking her over and her standing back up.
THE NOTE: Eden already knows all the info she would need to know to write that note. She could have put the note back together to give herself a defense, to try to disprove herself as the culprit with her handwriting, because Rose was going to do it anyways, and/or to frame Arturo if she didn't know he had an alibi. I think any of these reasons, or a combination of these reasons, are enough to make it possible, and while Ace could've overheard, it's definitely less easy for him.
NOT BELIEVING AREI: Both Arei and Charles have, in this trial, been shown to question whether or not Eden believed Arei wanted to be Eden's friend. If Eden simply did, this plot point goes nowhere.
A GOOD PERSON: Eden has been called a good person, but other than that freaky CG, nothing has really come of it. Is the plot relevance of Eden being a good person really going to resolve by saying "Eden is a good person, she'd never kill her friend!"? If a good person isn't gold, Eden still feels like a missing piece of that puzzle.
INCENTIVE TO FRAME NICO: This one's a bit more of a reach, but I don't really understand the point of framing Nico if you're Ace. Of course Ace is going to insist Nico is the murderer no matter what. If you're Eden, you have a direct audience to setting it up similarly: Ace. If you can get Ace to go all in on Nico, that's one less person who was in the Gym who suspects you. Eden and Teruko feel less likely to say "oh well it looks like Nico's murder so it MUST be Nico."
HEAVY FOCUS IN CH 2: DRDTdev seems to give the chapter death's important content shortly before their deaths. Eden has been one of the most prominent characters this chapter, which could be a bad sign.
Reasons Eden Wouldn't Be the Blackened
HER EMOTIONAL REACTIONS: I think I stand with everyone else when I say that the thing giving me pause with Eden!Culprit is how devastated she truly seems to be. I do still think it could be a combo of guilt and panic over the prospect of dying, but it's hard to justify everything.
HER FRIENDSHIP WITH AREI: Sort of a spinoff of the last one, but Arei was at least offering to Eden to be friends and to protect her. If Eden did believe that, to any extent at all, it's hard to imagine her killing Arei in cold blood.
THE FISH: The biggest question when it comes to evidence as to how Eden could be the killer. If Nico fed the fish and they were all still there last night, and Eden had an alibi until after the Relax Room closed, how would she have gotten the fish to add to the crime scene?
THE BDA: Easy to ignore imo considering we've already called it into question within the series proper, but still worth talking about. For Eden to be the culprit, either someone else saw the body first and isn't claiming to have (or it's David), or we're burning the "Eden didn't witness the crime and thus could still trigger the BDA" card here.
GENDER BALANCE: Possibly an irrelevant point, but it is true that we've had 2 women and 1 man die so far. If a man was the killer, it'd keep it even. Unlikely to be relevant as any disparity could be easily balanced out in Chapter 3 with (presumably) 3 death slots.
Points About Eden That Could Go Either Way
THE FORK CG: I firmly believe that this could be setting up for Eden being a more important character throughout the series or to die after a moment of intrigue, possibly letting us explore/imply more in her post-death bonus episode.
RELATIONSHIP WITH HU: Hu has lost David as a sane ally. Nico is telling her that they don't want her speaking for them and that they don't trust her. Would DRDTdev prefer to fully isolate Hu moving into Chapter 3 by getting rid of Eden, or to leave Hu with one friend who still believes in her.
CHARLES HAVING EDEN'S SECRET: By telling us Eden's secret ahead of time by Charles revealing it to Teruko, extra focus was given to Eden's secret. Was this just the easiest way to get everyone's secrets revealed based on character dynamics, or was it meant to imply that Eden's secret is extra important? Is that because she's the killer? Is it a #ArEden sweep???
ACE
(why are they both orange)
Reasons Ace Would Be The Blackened:
NO EVIDENCE-BASED ISSUES: This is the biggest and strongest point across the whole board imo. There is no tangible, evidence-based reason why Ace COULDN'T have done the crime. Out of all 13 currently surviving students, he's the only one who that's true for. That obviously makes him a viable suspect.
WOULD ABSOLUTELY FUCKING DO IT: Ace has been Freaking The Fuck Out this chapter. I could VERY easily see him deciding to kill here. I don't think anyone is trying to argue that Ace is too emotionally attached to the cast to try to kill all of them, because he clearly isn't.
WHERE DO WE GO FROM HERE?: I'm not really sure where Ace's character is going to go from here. I'd be interested in seeing more from him, but, like, where is his character arching to if not a killer? Ace is so disliked and intense that it's hard to imagine him really, fully pivoting and caring about others, but if he can't do that, is he destined to be a killer eventually?
HEAVY FOCUS IN CH 2: DRDTdev seems to give the chapter's death important content shortly before their deaths. Ace has been one of the most prominent characters this chapter, which could be a bad sign.
Reasons Ace Wouldn't Be the Blackened
OBVIOUSNESS & POINT OF CHARACTER: Of course Ace would be willing to kill Arei or whoever and the rest of the students. This is kind of the inverse of my "would absolutely fucking do it" point-- I don't know exactly how much surprise it would carry if Ace were to be the culprit. And, more than that, I feel like the point of Ace is that he is a victim here, but he's so unlikable that no one wants to acknowledge that or believe in him. I think it'd be an interesting comparison, if everyone really wants Ace to be the killer, but he just isn't. To everyone's dismay, Ace is still here. Now what?
SECRET LARGELY UNRESOLVED: Ace's secret hasn't really had any plot relevance yet. It seems like most people's do. I'm like lowkey expecting them to bring back the starvation motive from SDR2 in Chapter 4 and have SOMETHING happen with Ace there. Either way, while it could be reserved for his bonus episode (a la Min and Xander), I'd expect that his secret would have more main-story impact before he dies.
EXISTENCE OF SCRUM DEBATE: We're suspecting Ace first, but we still haven't done the scrum debate for this trial. Unless the scrum debate is "do we just vote for Ace without ever really pursuing Eden" and the answer is "yes," I don't see how we get out of this suspecting Ace period with a scrum debate without at least entertaining the idea of Ace's innocence.
STRONG CONNECTIONS TO OTHER CAST MEMBERS: Ace is very relevant to the Levi, Nico and Hu plotlines right now. Are they really going to just... get rid of him, when that's what both Nico and Hu would want?
ABILITY TO FIGURE OUT THE CONTRAPTION: Ace would not only have to recognize the way in which Nico was trying to kill him (which, to be fair is easier if he did wake up partway through), he would also have to conceptualize and figure out how to make the playground contraption successfully. I think Eden's clockmaking skills and... generally higher intelligence imo would be better suited to that.
COWARDICE: Ace is so fucking scared of everything. Would he want to put himself into harm's way by becoming the killer and having a do or die moment in the Trial? But, is he more scared of dying as a victim in the killing game, after seeing how close Nico came to killing him?
Points About Ace That Could Go Either Way
TAYLOR LORE DROP: Ace's friend, named Taylor per a Q&A with the dev, got vagued about in this Trial. Is that something to be pursued in a later Ace free time (following the one with Levi), or is that something that's going to be explained further in Ace's bonus episode (which could VERY easily be about friendship, considering it's Mai fucking Akasaki as the other person in the convo).
ACE'S BREAKDOWN @ LEVI: When Ace said he didn't fall for Levi caring about him at all, was that him affirming himself that it was the correct decision to try to kill, even if it'd put Levi's life at stake, who he previously kinda liked? Or was he lying to himself, and, at least previously, he wouldn't have wanted to kill Levi, no matter how harsh he seemed on the surface?
Well, that's all I got! Please let me know if you can come up with any more points for any of the 6 categories, because I'm very very curious to hear them! I'm thinking I might try to do an expansion on this in a separate post before next episode if I have time, exploring the ins and outs of each point with more textual evidence to back it up. I'd love to discuss any reader-suggested points too, if y'all have some in mind!
For now, I'm still personally leaning towards Eden as the culprit over Ace, but I wouldn't be surprised to see it be either of them. Well, other than the fact that my reaction to the killer being revealed is going to be :O no matter what.
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zarnzarn · 2 days
Text
new fic, tw rescue from a kidnapping and s/a (calypso), illiad modern spy au
They find him in the place they were told they would.
The lot of them almost don't make it past the door with how all of them fight to get inside first. The woman inside screams and drops her basket of fruits as they storm into the kitchen, staring at them with wide, piteous eyes as they all point their swords at her.
"Where is he?" Eurylochus snarls, half-bear in his rage. The guilt has been ripping him apart, whatever he and Odysseus disagreed on before he disappeared into thin air all those months ago, driving him wild. Menelaus nearly flinches himself when he roars louder, "WHERE IS HE?"
"Have you people never heard of politeness?" The woman demands starchly, even though she's still pressed back against the counter. Menelaus sees her eyes flash with power as she scowls at them, and takes a deep breath, readying his sword.
If he dies fighting her- if any of them do- the rest will understand. It's only because of Odysseus that any of them were alive at all.
"We were told that the merchant Xen'ath made a sale to you, seven months ago," Diomedes cuts in, voice cold. "An illegal one, even for a protected one like you."
She snorts, jewellery tinkling. She looks kind, and for a desperate moment Menelaus hopes.
"What will you do, put me in jail?" Calypso giggles. "Besides, a sale is a sale. He's mine, fair and square, so if you all would kindly-"
A vase crashes by her head, scattering muddy water and making her scream.
Patroclus hasn't recovered much from the coma, but he's just as angry as any of them and wouldn't be talked out of not coming along, even though he has to use a cane. He doesn't know about how they all fell apart while he was under, but has informed them all quite clearly that not only does he not care, in this situation it does not matter.
Menelaus holds out a hand to signal him to back down, knowing that they are all barely holding onto their fury enough to get answers.
"Where is he?" Ajax cuts in quietly. They point their swords again.
She scans them all calculatingly, grimacing. Then recovers, tossing her hair over her shoulder proudly, hmphing at them.
"In the basement," She says casually, and Menelaus' heart drops. Horror suffuses the faces around him, with many eyes closing in pained resignation, even though they already knew the truth. Knew what kind of sale it had been.
Penelope had recovered over fifteen hundred victims in her search for her husband, and all of them had the same story.
"He tried to run last week," She sighs, putting her hands on her hips and talking with such casual disappointment that it makes his blood run cold, makes him want to throw up. "Honestly, I made sure that he had everything one could need, I don't know what on earth-"
"Shut up," Polites snaps. "Just- shut up!"
"Why, you-" Calypso growls, eyes turning pink as she calls her power, and with a roar of fury, Achilles rounds the table and attacks.
Menelaus whistles to the others and they all scatter. He comes out at the veranda, opening every door and cursing when there's nothing beyond. It's a beautiful house- idyllic and pristine and packed with luxury, and it makes Menelaus want to claw off his own skin.
"HERE!" Someone shouts inside, and Menelaus skids to a stop and changes direction. They all reach the door at the same time, and he holds back the dizzying wave of horror at the lock on the outside as they all hack at the wood like crazed people to get in.
The door crashes down and Menelaus charges down the stairs into the dark room, scrambling for his torch.
"ODYSSEUS!" He shouts, moving it around. "ODY-"
They all go dead silent.
Odysseus scrabbles back, eyes glinting and wild in the light of the torch. He's still in the same outfit they have the last sighting of him in, dirtied and torn now, but the man wearing it is completely different- hair overgrown and body rail-thin, so much so that Menelaus for a heart-stopping second doesn't recognise him.
There's a chain around his leg, connected to the floor. A collar with an owl on it, made of metal that's been welded shut straight on and rope on his wrists. A dirty cloth stuffed in his mouth.
Blood on his legs.
"Odysseus!" Polites is the first to break their standstill, a huge grin of pained relief on his face as he rushes forward. It falls as Odysseus gives a small scream of terror and tries to get away from him, making the metal dig into his already scarred ankle.
Of terror. Of terror. Ten years of knowing him, and Menelaus has never seen Odysseus afraid.
Odysseus spits out the cloth. "Please," He whispers, voice wrecked, and they all flinch. The Odysseus in Menelaus' memory shines bright and golden, charming and funny and kind and angry and humble, despite having run missions for his kingdom since he was thirteen, sharper and swifter than all of them. This is not his friend. "Please, not them, not them, don't wear their faces too, please."
And-
Menelaus comes to with his face pressed against the wall, tears streaming down his face. Sick with rage and guilt and fury and horror. The others aren't faring any better when someone snaps over the microphones for them to hurry up and he turns back around- Eurylochus is sitting on the floor with his head in his hands, two others are vomiting, Polites has disappeared and the rest are just standing there frozen, crying. Patroclus is the only one who's kept his head on enough to attempt quiet reassurance, crouched near a trembling, animal version of their best spy and talking softly to him, trying to coax him away from cutting into his own skin with the rusted metal.
He tried to run away last week, Menelaus grasps onto desperately. It means he's still in there, fighting.
He can't take his eyes off the blood. There's so much of it.
"Eurylochus!" Polites snaps as he comes back down the stairs, a blowtorch in hand. "Hold him."
Odysseus screams at their approach and Menelaus does not have the courage to keep looking, places both hands over his ears like a child, unable to bear it.
(Penelope had opened the door to the group of them; twelve men Odysseus had run with for ten years who had no idea he disappeared until someone casually mentioned that Penelope had gone rogue and was on the watchlist for having tortured and murdered Circe.
Her eyes had been frigid. "Welcome," She said, as if they were strangers and not close friends. "You're quite lucky you decided to visit, you know. I had plans of killing you lot next."
Menelaus doesn't blame her.
She'd sent them all message after message, call after call- begging, pleading, bargaining; that they all ignored out of grudges and anger, until she'd stopped asking and done it herself. None of the fights Odysseus had had with them had even been that bad- it was just, somehow, every single one of them had just been that little bit extra annoyed as to not pick up when it had been her calling; and then Xen'ath had all Penelope's calls rerouted, so she couldn't reach them anyway.
"Queen of Ithaka," He'd bowed, Helen bowing lower at his side. "... Penelope. I- We are all so incredibly sorry-"
"Save it," She'd said, holding up a hand. "Just answer me this- would you rather run a mission or guard Telemachus? And what is your price?"
That had thrown them.
"Penelope," Diomedes had stepped forward hesitantly, looking heartbroken. "We would- all of us, any of us- we would do anything to save your husband. You don't need to fucking pay us to rescue him- we are his friends. We are your friends."
"Then WHERE WERE YOU?" Penelope screams, and her mask finally cracks with it, eyes filled with tears and mouth curled in rage. "Where were any of you when he- when I-" Diomedes grabs her and pulls her into a hug and she breaks down sobbing. "Where were all of you when we needed you?"
"Penelope," Menelaus says, stepping forward to place a hand on her shoulder. Glass crunches under his feet and guilt overcomes him again- all this while he'd been living in luxury, unburdened, his sister-in-law had given up everything to run missions on her own, feeding her people and taking down enemy after enemy while living in squalor herself, in a building full of unsavory men. Tears come to his own eyes. "Please, I beg you to believe me. None of us, not a single one- we did not know. We did not know your husband never made it home, Penelope, I swear on the Styx."
"Then you should have picked up my calls," She snarls, venomous, and gathers herself back up to push Diomedes and him away. "Now. Mission or Telemachus?")
When he takes his hands off, the silence is ringingly loud, the phantom screams still stuck in his ears. Menelaus looks when Odysseus whimpers suddenly and sees his sister's husband holding him down while Polites melts the collar off, Ajax silently working on the chain around his ankle.
Achilles shouts from upstairs and Diomedes calls back, and he comes into the room with grim eyes. "How is he?"
None of them can bring themselves to reply. The collar falls off with a thud.
"Odysseus, hey, we've come to rescue you," Polites tries again, smiling at him and holding his head in his hands so they can meet his eyes. "Don't worry now, we're here."
Odysseus is still. Too still.
Diomedes steps forward, eyes hard, and carefully pulls Polites' hands away. "He'll attack you. If shapeshifting is involved-"
Silence.
"What is wrong with all of you?" Patroclus says suddenly, scowling. "Did you lose your training along with your brains when I was unconscious? Soldiers, post-rescue protocol, now."
The command shocks him back to adrenaline, and they all burst into familiar movements, collecting pictures and pulling out shock blankets. Someone grabs Odysseus as the chain unravels and holds him still while they cut him free, and another talks gently to him as they inject him with a sedative. Menelaus is just glad it isn't him, because he doesn't think that even with his hardened nerves he could bear to face the fact that- to treat Odysseus like-
He looks away as Achilles grabs the other in a fireman's carry and makes his way to the door instead, pushing the debris out of the way to let them through.
Calypso isn't going to be held back for long.
"NO!" She screeches as she bursts through a wall, three times bigger than they left her. Menelaus slashes and she cowers back, baring her teeth in fear. Her face falls as she catches sight of Achilles running out the door, and tears well up in her eyes instead. "No, please, I can't be alone again! I can't be locked in here, please, I can't be alone, send anything, anyone, please!"
"Go fuck yourself," Ajax says savagely as he swings at her, and Menelaus grabs the person closest and yells for a retreat.
The van rumbles along. The windshield wipers swing.
"How long does the sedative last?" Menelaus hears himself ask.
"Should be done by now," Polites says, voice similarly bleak, turning to Odysseus. "Ody?"
Odysseus is crouched in the far corner of the van, staring at them all with sharp, hate-filled paranoia. Menelaus swallows and slows the vehicle, the rest of them turning to look.
"You're safe," Ajax says, softer than he's ever heard from him. "We got you out, Odysseus, you're going back home."
Odysseus narrows his eyes and snarls. Menelaus braces himself for something biting and sharp about how they could have done it earlier, better, faster. Except- "I'm not falling for another illusion, Calypso. Drop the fucking act."
Menelaus hits the brakes and closes his eyes as he presses his face against the steering wheel. "It's not an illusion, Ody, we promise. We're actually here."
"You don't have your chains any more, see?" Eurylochus tries. When he turns, they're all clearly holding themselves back from rushing forward in heartbreak; Odysseus had been the touchy one amongst them, winding around them like a hyperactive snake and hanging off them and hugging them tight and offering handshakes and high-fives, no matter that they were all hardened warriors. To have him clearly ready to throw a punch if they approach hurts. "Your collar is off- why would Calypso do that?"
Odysseus' face spasms and he grabs for his neck. Feels around as if it might be a trick, expression blank.
"Athena," He says abruptly, and Menelaus is extremely confused for a second before he recalls the owl etched into the metal and catches Diomedes' eyes in sudden horrified agony. Of all the terrible-
"Athena," Odysseus breathes, bending over with eyes wide in disbelief, saying it as if he can't believe he can. Hope flares in his eyes, before crumpling at the sudden landslide of grief that follows, tears Menelaus never saw from him at the worst of the Troy mission dripping down his face. "Athena. Athena. Athena! ATHENA! ATHENA!"
His voice is agonizing to hear, crazed and desperate, and someone rushes forward with a tranquilizer, before-
A loud clap, blinding light, and Athena, the goddess herself, appears in their mission vehicle.
"What the fuck," Ajax whispers next to him, grabbing Menelaus by the arm. They're both trembling. Everyone is. "What the fuck- that's actually her."
Athena snaps her neck around to study them all with blank eyes, nodding to a terrified Diomedes, before looking down at Odysseus. Studies him.
Oh shit, Menelaus thinks, remembering the rumors of Medusa, and motions for someone to intervene as he struggles with the seatbelt.
She dissolves her spear suddenly and- holds out her arms.
"What?" Odysseus says faintly, which sums that up too.
"What?" Athena returns, sounding- defensive? Confused? "You were the one who insisted on hugs and physical touch to be added to the rescue recovery manual."
Menelaus finally makes it over the barrier to the back of the van and gets to watch everyone's brains break slightly, and for Odysseus' mouth to drop open in sheer disbelief. Menelaus still knows him enough to recognise the look of him very much wanting to say that is not something you say in a situation like this before a smile suddenly pulls at his lips. A threadbare, incredulous giggle escapes him, then rickety, mirthful laughter and Menelaus breathes a sigh of relief.
"Yeah, I did," Odysseus grins slightly, and walks closer- hugging the goddess without a lick of fear, of course he does. The gods are famous for their pride and detachment and untouchability and of course this crazy man goes and hugs the most closed-off of them like an old friend.
Although, the way they talked to each other, and the implications-
"I'm not thinking of this anymore," Ajax mutters, rubbing at his face. "Odysseus, you believe this ain't an illusion yet, my dude?"
He pulls back and stares around at them like he's seeing them for the first time. His face twitches, like he can't decide whether to smile or be devastated, and quietly says, "You're here. You all came?"
The van bursts out in noise as they all trip over their sorrowful reassurances and apologies, almost shouting. Odysseus trembles. Blood drips to the floor.
Achilles steps forward and Menelaus feels the same alarm of a disaster incoming from earlier; he and Odysseus had never quite gotten over their irritation at dragging each other into the Troy mission and argued plenty during- he'd even heard word that they'd let a target escape once because they'd got into a fistfight.
But Achilles just gives Athena a wary look and a wide berth, and then pulls Odysseus into his arms. Menelaus suddenly remembers who'd been the first to run to Achilles and hold him when he'd sunk to the floor at Patroclus' diagnosis.
"We're here," He murmurs. "We came late, but we came. You're out."
"I'm out," Odysseus repeats, letting his tense posture drop as he leans into the embrace. "I'm out."
"You are," Athena confirms clinically, then- surprise on surprises, she kneels down to pull him closer as well.
Menelaus smiles, then climbs back to the front of the vehicle, satisfying himself with the flickering relief that slowly takes over Odysseus' expression. Gives his friend the privacy he can when he starts to have the breakdown delayed seven months, turns the keys to start the engine.
It's still a long journey to get Odysseus back to Penelope, then back to the Ithaka headquarters. But they have him now, and they'll get him back.
Menelaus, and the rest of them, will have to content themselves with that. That at least, the most they can do now, is bring him home.
He taps on his earpiece, and it crackles to life. "We have him," He tells her. "We're bringing him back to you by morning. Rest, please, Penny."
She sobs over the comms and the car drives on.
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echobx · 9 hours
Text
Birthday Schenanigans - JJ Maybank × fem!reader
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summary: it's y/n's birthday and she gets distracted while playing a game with her friends, just for JJ to take care of her soon after
word count: 969
warnings: smut, edging, thigh riding, fingering
author's note: I wrote this around this time last year, and decided to give it a new home outside my wip folder. It's a little bumpy bc it's one of the first things I ever wrote, but I think it's still okay.
kinktober masterlist
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Without thinking about what you are actually doing, you roll your hips back to lean forward and hand Kie the pen. JJ's leg presses against you, the friction of the jeans against your panties and the light pressure feels incredible. Your mind is clouded by the weed and the warm feeling that started building in your core. You crave a release. Any release. And this is just too perfect to not try it out. Over the next half hour or so, basically the whole duration of the stupid game, you grind on his leg. Very slowly and carefully so that no one but the two of you notices. Small motions that bring you just enough pleasure to keep going, but not enough to actually make you finish. Every once in a while, he tips his leg for a few seconds and stops again. You gasp the first time he does it, and your friends all look at you for a moment before continuing with the game. Keeping a straight face and not making the slightest sound is incredibly difficult, but you manage it anyway. 
If you weren't focusing so hard on not showing your lewd actions, you might have heard the knock on the door when your friends do. JJ’s hand moves from your back to your stomach, and he pulls you back to sit fully in his lap. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and his left hand intertwined with your own. Leaning his head against yours is making a shiver run down your spine. "You can stop fucking my leg now. Someone is here for you," he whispers into your ear, and you bite your lip, before recalling the last words he said. "Who?" you turn to look at him. There is a spark in his eyes that you haven't seen in him all night. A lustful glimmer, as if your little game messed him up more than yourself, if that is even possible. You feel the need to kiss him; his soft and demanding lips. To feel him inside you in the only socially acceptable way for the situation you are in. Anything would suffice. Even just a gentle brush of his hand against your cheek or the small circles he likes to draw on your skin. Just him for you, nothing else. You don't bother for who is at the door. It could be Santa Claus and you wouldn't give a fuck. All you can think of are the very dirty things you want to do to your boyfriend. 
"Get up, or I'm not going to let you do whatever you are thinking about," he whispers against your lips and gently pushes you off him. The sudden loss of his presence makes you more dizzy than the thoughts that still haunt your mind. You shake your head, trying to sort your thoughts before opening the door. "Pizza and beer is all the gift I can offer," John B says from behind a huge mountain of boxes. You have to laugh while guiding him inside, your mind suddenly freed from the lust that captivated it just moments prior. He puts the boxes down on the kitchen counter and hugs you, "happy birthday." "Thanks bro," you wink at him, taking a slice of pizza and going into your room to change, not wanting to sit in wet underwear all night. 
The door behind you closes, and you are pushed against the closet, hands above your head and JJ’s hips pressed against yours. He kisses you with so much passion and tenacity that you forget why you even went into your room. You know it wasn't to do this, but you can't for the life of you remember what.  "Don't ever do that again unless we're alone. I don't want anyone seeing you like that, not even them," he breathes against you, and you nod, biting your puffy lips. "Keep your arms up." A silent order that you are more than willing to follow. Not sure what exactly is to happen now, but with the impression that it will be worthwhile. He opens your jeans and pulls your panties down with them, letting you step out of both. "Fuck," his fingers grace over your swollen cunt. "You are way too wet for how little movement you got. What did you think of while doing it?" You gasp as he pushes his long fingers into you. "Tell me what you thought of," he demands again. "You. How you would punish me. How you punished me before," you have to bite your lip so you don't moan, not wanting your friends to hear what you are doing. "I could do it now. Not make you come, let you sit in anticipation for another hour before I let you wreck me," he whispers and kisses you again, not just to kiss you, but also to muffle the lustful moan that you can't hold back at that moment. "Promise to show me how that new toy works, and I'll let you finish." His quiet whispers are followed by another kiss and even more choked moans while he keeps fingering you. His thumb is playing with your clit while you try to stay contained. "Promise me,” JJ rasps in your ear. "I do. I promise. Please," you beg for your release, and he kisses you again while finally allowing you to let go of the tension that had nested in your stomach for the last few hours. JJ pulls away as soon as your legs are done shaking and picks up your slip, using it to wipe off most of what spilled out of you. "You need clean underwear," JJ smiles, proud of his work, and then he leaves you standing in your room, panting and flushed and completely exhilarated. 
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please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho
taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @jjmaybankssurfergf
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rabbidbunwy · 2 days
Note
Hi, dear!! Hope you've been well!! ^^
Would you be interested in writing a fic about Gojo finding out his s/o is trans fem (amab)?
Thanks!! Remember to stay healthy ^_^
Love you still
Contents:Gojo x Trans!(male to fem)reader--cute-fluff-sweet-confession-cuddles-kissing
i'm no english native so sorry for some mistakes
please reblog 🔁 and like❤️
P.s: i never done this kind of subject before so sorry if it's not good but thanks for the reminder to stay healthy love,you too ⸜(˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
@muzansslxt @candy69gurl @kiwicopia @satorkive @ponderingmoonlight @kurominiiiz
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For a few moments, Gojo was silent. This had come as a surprise to him. He'd been with this person for a while, and had seen nothing to suggest that they were transgender. But here you are, sitting there on the bed with a worried look on your face, having just told him this.
"And you thought I wouldn't want this? Babe, just because your gender is different than when we first started dating doesn't mean I don't love you anymore."
He reached out, wrapping an arm around you, pulling you close. A long, happy sigh escapes your chest as Gojo holds you tight, telling you how much he loves you. Despite the revelation of your gender identity, he doesn't seem to be at all bothered by it. Your mind is at ease now, reassured by the fact that he's completely fine with it.
"I love you. So much." Satoru murmurs into your neck. You look up at him, gazing into his icy blue eyes.
You lean in and kiss him gently on the lips. It's a slow and tender kiss, filled with both passion and deep affection. Satoru wraps his arms around you again, pulling you closer and holding you in a warm embrace. You don't hold back, letting all your emotions pour into this moment. The kiss becomes more intense, deeper and more passionate. You are both completely immersed in the moment, completely lost in the love and desire that is shared between you.
As you pull away, you're both left panting and gasping for breath. You can't help but smile at the intensity of the kiss, and you lean your head on Gojo's shoulder, feeling content and safe in his arms.
"I love you, Satoru. I always will." you whisper. A soft sigh escapes his lips, and he kisses the top of your head.
You sit there in comfortable silence for a few minutes, just enjoying the feeling of being wrapped in each others' arms. Finally, Gojo speaks up.
"You know I'm gonna be with you no matter what, right? Your gender doesn't change anything. If anything, it just makes me love you even more."
He smiles, and you realize that you've found the person who truly loves and accepts you for who you are, unconditionally.
You feel tears welling up in your eyes. Tears of happiness, relief, and gratitude. He holds you even tighter, gently stroking your hair as if to say that everything will be alright. The fact that this powerful sorcerer, the strongest in the world, is willing to stay by your side no matter what warms your heart
"I know, Satoru. I know."
You can feel Gojo's heart beating against your cheek, a comforting rhythm that helps you relax. You close your eyes, just letting yourself be held in his arms. The fact that he's so supportive and accepting of your gender identity fills you with a sense of security and love.
"So" Gojo says after a few moments. "Does this mean I get to go shopping with you for girls' clothes?"
You look up at him, a little surprised by his question. But then you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes and realize he's just teasing you. Still, the very thought of going shopping for girls' clothes with Gojo… it's a little mortifying.
"Um… sure." You say, blushing a little. You never thought you'd be going shopping for clothes with your boyfriend, but here you are.
Gojo laughs, amused at your embarrassment. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead.
"I'm just joshin' with you, babe. You don't have to look so mortified."
He grins, clearly enjoying this a little too much. You roll your eyes, but secretly, you find it kind of endearing how excited he is.
He takes your hands in his, intertwining your fingers.
"But seriously, if you want to go shopping, I'll go with you. I'll even carry the bags and be your personal shopping assistant."
You can't help but chuckle at the image of Gojo carrying around a bunch of shopping bags. It's both funny and oddly sweet at the same time.
He looks at you with a sly grin.
"And by the way, just so you know, I have very good taste in fashion. I'll help you pick out the cutest outfits ever."
You scoff lightly, knowing that Gojo's fashion sense is often questionable. Still, you have a feeling that shopping with him might be fun after all.
Gojo chuckles heartily at your response, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He leans down and starts peppering kisses all over your face, his lips brushing against your cheeks, your forehead, your eyelids, and finally your lips.
With each kiss, he lets out a soft, low laugh, clearly enjoying himself. You can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, and his hands gently caress your face as he continues to shower you in kisses.
After a few more moments, Gojo finally pulls away, looking down at you with a satisfied smile. His eyes rake over your face, appreciating the blush that he's brought to your cheeks.
"I love covering your face in kisses, he whispers, his voice slightly husky. "You look so cute when you get all flustered like this."
You playfully nudge him in the chest, unable to hide the rosy hues on your cheeks.
"You're so cheesy, you know that?" Gojo just grins wider, not at all sorry for being cheesy. He enjoys seeing you like this, all flustered and blushing because of his attention. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around you.
"And you love it. Admit it."
You can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. Gojo's right, of course. There's something about his cheesy, over-the-top affections that you secretly enjoy. It makes you feel special and loved. You lean against him, burying your face in his chest to hide your embarrassment.
"Yeah, yeah, I do love it. Happy now?"
Gojo hums in contentment, feeling victorious. He runs his fingers through your hair, his touch gentle and affectionate. He pulls you even closer, resting his chin on top of your head.
"Very happy."
He pauses, then adds in a low voice. "You know, the more you blush, the more I get the urge to kiss you senseless."
You can feel your face burning even more at his words. His voice is so damn sexy, and the way he says things like that with such confidence makes your stomach do somersaults. You pull back just enough to look up at him, and you see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes again. He's clearly enjoying getting you all worked up like this.
He reaches up to cup your cheek with one hand, his thumb gently tracing the blush on your skin.
"See? Look at how cute you are when you're all flustered, he murmurs, his voice dripping with adoration. "It's downright addictive."
He leans in and brushes his lips against your earlobe, his breath warm on your skin. "So addictive… I don't think I'll ever get tired of this."
© rabbidbunwy all rights reserved. do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my work without my permission. thank you for reading and supporting my work
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googleitlol · 2 days
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Two questions! Well, one’s more like a prompt/scenario, but I’m still saying it!
Do you have any plans on getting back to your “The Memory of You” fanfic in the future? Because I’m a certified Macaque wimp (right there with Wukong) and I’m dying to know everything that happened between him and Lian!😭
And second:
I just got myself Black Myth Wukong brainrot and I randomly thought of a situation where Dove would wake up from a nightmare about Wukong’s death, and she instinctively places a hand over the Destined One’s heart to hear it beating because of his resemblance and everything. And the Destined One just helps hold her hand to his chest and resting his own hand over hers until she calms down🥲💘💞
1) Omg tbh I didn't realise ppl were still reading that one! I'm focusing on PoM rn so I don't think I'll be getting to it anytime soon unfortunately. I do wanna continue it tho, and rewrite some stuff too! My google doc is so big for TMoY that if you wanted, I could totally answer some asks about it. Since I'm focusing on Dove and Wukong rn, I wouldn't mind sharing some secrets about Lian and Macaque's past (I will yap so much abt them, I love Lian she's my sweetheart).
I also took a break from writing that fic because, uhhhhh… I had only seen part of season 4 when I started writing the backstory for Lian, did some research into chinese mythology and legends I could pull from… then after posting a bunch of chapters, I watched the rest and realised I accidentally made her backstory/creation extremely similar to someone else (if you're caught up on the show, you'll know who I'm talking about). They both involve, uh… similar people?? So I got spooked and decided to wait a bit to see if that character's backstory would be like what I'd written for Lian and… it's starts out very similar 💀
But honestly, I think I'm gonna keep it the same cuz I love Lian, and I love the story I've made for her and Macaque. So if you've got any questions abt them, I'd be happy to answer until I shift my focus back onto TMoY.
2) Oh, and… my god. I love this idea of yours. That dream. Hoo boy, that dream. I love it when people understand the sort of angst I wanna put Dove under. Running to her love, knowing what's about to happen but too far to stop it. Maybe if he saw her, if he knew she was coming, maybe he'd still be there. But no matter how much her throat scratches as she screams, no sound is made. No matter how fast she runs, how far she pushes herself, nothing changes.
The Destined One frowns, he's seen her like this on so many nights. There's something that's plaguing her… he just doesn't know what. She shuts him down at any and all moments he has to inquire about her night-terrors. Still, he's found a subtle way to help in the best way he can. After one night where she reached out for him and he let her hand press against his chest, he noticed how she calmed a bit.
That becomes their nightly ritual. Whenever he notices how she starts to mumble in her sleep, shout and cry, he'll cuddle up next to her and hold her in his arms. He'll keep her head pressed against his chest so she can hear his heart– that always calms her down. As long as she has something, her hand or even an ear pressed to his heart, she'll calm down. Maybe the first few nights he started doing this, she'd cuddle up to him a bit. He'd be awkward about it at first, but eventually grow used to it. After a while, he'd find that he actually really enjoys spending those nights with Dove in his arms.
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lailawinchesterr · 2 days
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remedy (vii) — sam winchester
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> prev, masterlist
summary: somethings just aren't meant to be, and you can't force them— tags: underage!reader, 22-year-old!sam, med student!fem!reader, cursing, angst, 6k chapter (yeah, it needs a warning), daddy issues I think.
You don’t text back for two days, and he ignores you. All of a sudden, it’s ‘we need to talk’. No way, man; an idiot can see this is a breakup text if they look at it for a second too long. And you’re not stupid enough to end something that means this much to you over the phone. 
If he decides you’re boring, or you’re not it, or whatever, he can say it to your face—
Your phone is ringing.
Worst case scenario, he calls you names, best case, he says it’s not you; it’s him. Maybe switch them around?
Maybe you should change your number.
Maybe you should answer. You answer. “Sam, hey.”
“Hey, you okay? Were you asleep?” Maybe if you say yes, he’ll feel stupid breaking up with you while you are half asleep. 
“No.” You’ve never been good at lying to him. “Do you need anything?”
“Sweetheart, what’s with the silent treatment?” oh, great, now he wants to talk about it? It’s been two days, he didn’t bother then— God, what is happening to you! You’re acting like such a bitch, right now, like all the times you’ve yelled at your friends to stop being so annoying with their boyfriends, and now you’re doing the same. 
“Sorry, uh— yeah, no, I guess I was just being silly because you didn’t call when you said you would.” Your voice is so timid, you wouldn’t believe it if someone said it was you. Sam has responsibilities, such as finding his dad and taking care of Dean, and you are being petty. Fuck this whole thing, this isn't you, why are you suddenly changing around him (without him here).
“It's not silly. I just had something to take care of that night and forgot to tell you.”
“Why'd you pretend? Why not just tell me the next day?”
“I thought you forgot, I didn't wanna remind you; besides, it was one call, I didn't think you’d care.” Where in your exterior of panic did he get ‘wouldn't care’ from? Unlike Sam's tendency to just ooze nonchalance, always seeming uniquely unbothered by this entire thing, he wasn't like this when he was next to you, in fact, he used to care more about your feelings than you did.
Is this what distance is doing to the both of you? Ruining Sam's gentleness and consideration? The things you liked about him from the start? Love about him? God, it's like your parents all over again. You love your father, of course you do, he’s an incredible dad, but he was disappointing as a husband, and you fucking swore that you’d never marry someone like him, even if you’re as physically far away from marriage as possible with Sam, it doesn't mean you’re wrong for thinking of your future with him.
“Baby?”
“Right. Sorry. It isn't a problem, you're right.” You never were as strong as your mother.
“Okay, but I'll text you next time. Promise.” You nod, noticing your nose burning and your vision getting blurry for a second before you breathe. This is not worth crying over. You've always given your entire being into every relationship and lost yourself halfway through, you told Jess that this was different, that Sam was different. But Sam is just like every guy you've ever liked, he's normal, caring, and sure, a little different in the sense that he's not a dick to other people and doesn't curse at you because of how you feel– okay so he's very different, but you aren't. You’re trying so hard to hold yourself back from thinking of those three words, from being all in for once, but you can’t help it, and you’re fucking mad at Jess for being right. Sam lost you. He went to a different state and is staying there for weeks, and it's okay with him. It should be the same way it should be for you, but it isn't. It was never going to be.
Your feelings were never going to be like his, and deep down, you knew that, Jess knew that. And you let it happen.
Fuck you’re crying. Fuck he’s calling out your name. “Sam, I'll call you back, okay?” And you hang up to his protests.
He didn’t cause this, you did by being so fucking careless with the most crucial thing in your life– your heart. And men will always be men. They'll forget to call, or they'll move to another country or state for work, they'll have girl friends that they hang around, and you will never be able to deal with it. 
It's terrifying to think about because you spent your senior year of high school making damn sure something like this would never happen, you didn't breathe near a boy, and you worked your ass off both in school and out of it to have achievements you can add to your transcript. Your first two years in Stanford have been spent right here in your apartment (or the first one was in the dorm), away from anyone who could ruin your progress– then Jess introduced you to him, and so what? She's introduced you to anyone she's ever hung out with. But you knew Sam was different. You knew everything about him was different the second you were both in the car alone, and you let all your nerves go so that you could sit in the passenger's seat and talk to him.
That should've been enough to scare you the hell off. He’s older and more experienced, and you promised you wouldn’t do this– you threw it all out the window the second he asked for your number.
He’s calling, your phone's ringing, and you know it's unfair to him, God, you know it is, but how unfair is it to whatever’s left of you if you answer? 
After an extensive crying session, you pick yourself off your bed and get on the desk for some serious study time. All your best studying has been done with your eyes bloodshot red and your heart broken. It doesn't take a few hours to finish and revise your assignments, and then you make flashcards for the chapter you (daydreamed during) missed last week. It's the most productive you've been this year. You're not complaining— until you are because Jess is barging through the door, and she doesn't yell, ‘honey, I'm home’, which can only mean she spoke to Sam. She knocks on your door twice before slamming it open with a frown. 
“No, because what the actual fuck do you mean you're not answering any of our calls?” Oh, she's worried. You shrug, pointing to the phone that you shut off and abandoned on your bed a few feet away. “How many times have I told you to stop shutting your phone off if you're not going to keep your laptop open? What if your parents call and you don't answer? They can't exactly just knock on your door.”
“I texted them before I shut it off.” She lets out an exasperated breath, walking over to you.
“What about me? Why didn't you text me?”
“I forgot, Jess, I'm sorry, it's no big—” Before you can even finish your sentence, you're hit with an insane case of deja vu, except it's more like your brain stops working. You genuinely did forget. It wasn't like you'd hurt your best friend on purpose, but she doesn't look like she forgives you or, quite frankly, even cares. And you're repeating his words right back at her.
“No big deal? Seriously, what has gotten into you? First, you don't listen to me about Sam– you actually fight me about it, then you ruin it! Sam is racking his brain thinking of what he did wrong, and all he came up with is that he forgot to call once. Tell me you are not being bitch to Sam because he goddman forgot!”
You're not surprised by Jess saying it any more than you were scared when you did. You already knew it was irrational; you're overreacting and rounding up all the bad things happening since you've known him to justify it. But you're not stupid, you know Sam doesn't deserve it, you just– honestly, you didn't think he'd call Jess or care that much. 
“I'll call and apologize—”
“No, God, no, this isn't what this is about,” she sighs, her voice quieter and pensive as she sits on your bed. You turn the chair around to face her. “Babe, talk to me. What is going on with you?”
“You were right.” You can't cry again, and you're not in front of Jess about something you're ruining yourself. “It's too much, I just can't do it, Jess. You were right—”
“Come on, babe, no, you fought for him, you convinced me he's right for you, what is this about?”
“I just can't be okay with it, every time something happens, I just— I'm scared it'll all go to shit, so I can't focus on anything, but the second I closed my phone after I hung up on him, I felt like— it was closure. I'm not scared anymore. I can focus and see everything clearly when I'm not…”
“When you're not in love with him.” You don't meet her eyes, instead, they pan to the floor. Yeah. You were scared to say it, but Jess certainly isn't. She won't shy away from the truth for your benefit; maybe that’s why talking things out with her always works for you. 
“Jess, you were so right, and I'm sorry I didn't—”
“Hey, don't be stupid, no. I didn't mean it— I never wanted you to do this. Sam is good for you, and you are great for him. Me and Gen, we talk about the two of you all the damn time and how incredible Sam treats you, how thankful and accommodating you are to him. I didn't know that that's what you were thinking.”
“I fell in love with him in a month. I can't, I just can't be like this again. I can't keep doing this and–” Yeah, you can feel your tears deep in your chest, and it doesn't matter what Jess hears or sees, you just can't keep going like this, “— I keep losing myself, and I accommodate to him and I want to please him and I shut up when I'm sad because what if he doesn't want to hear it—”
“You know he–”
“I don't care! I don't care how good of a person he is, unless he pulls it out of me, I don't… God, I'm so high maintenance, and he's too comfortin– Jess, I'm done. I can't keep…” She frowns, and you notice her red cheeks as she opens her arms for you. You oblige, moving off your chair and next to her on the bed, your head on her chest while her arms wrap around you. It never hurts less, and the fact it never fucking might scares you more than you thought was possible.
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You both fall asleep like that on your bed, your head on her chest and her embrace warming you, it makes you curse yourself for waking up at three. You were in a deep sleep, too. Thankfully, she still is, so you grab your phone and head out of your room, turning off the lights behind you to– oh fucking SHIT.
“Sam!” You scream, a hand on your racing chest. You're already wincing at the thought of waking Jess up, but you don't hear anything except a change of rhythm in her snores. You’re panting as you take a step back from him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“We finished early,” He lies, his eyes on yours. He’s a good liar, you have to admit, even if you can see right through it. He takes a step closer, examines you, and places his hands on your shoulders as he does before pulling you in close. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
That's— what on earth is happening right now? “Were you crying?” He furrows his eyebrows, fingers wiping under your eyes even though your tears dried hours ago. 
“Yeah, but that— Sam, what are you doing here?” You repeat, still starstruck. You like surprises when you know they’re coming. Like not knowing where you're going for dinner or not knowing what type of party someone is planning for your birthday, but this? It's very not cool. Extremely terrifying.
“I just told you we finished the case early.”
“You— what about your dad?”
“Dad left us a clue, well, he left Dean something. We went to find him in Blackwater Ridge, and he left something for Dean there about where to find him next. It's a couple of states over, and when I saw that this isn't a two-week kind of thing, I told Dean to bring me back here.”
“Sam it's been five days—”
“I know. I know, but you— trust, right? Technically, I made it back before the end of the week, so even that promise I kept…” and it's a weak attempt to lighten the situation with his hands still lighting your body on fire. You're not angry with Sam, of course you aren't, you never expected that you'd be with him every second of every day, you even knew that in less than a month you'd have to go back home for the summer vacation— it was never Sam's fault to begin with. It's yours. Your heart, your stupid, childish feelings, because despite being emotionally intelligent like almost everyone you've ever known has told you, and a damn hard worker to get into med school a year early, your feelings are where you draw the line.
“Honey, were you crying?” He should probably stash the monikers away for the time being if you're going to be able to do this.
“No— I mean, yes but it's fine I had Jess here.” You don't mean to sound bitter but it seems as if he took it that way because he frowns and nods slowly in a manner that pains you. He doesnt deserve this. He doesnt, hes been so fucking good to you, he cares about you, he—
He’ll never love you the way you love him. If you break it off now it's better for the both of you, he won't have to deal with a crazy girlfriend and you won't feel your heart shatter every time he forgets to call or goes out with Lily. This is good.
This is for the better. You know it's for the better.
“Sam.” You say with a breath, suddenly self conscious of your hair, is it messed up? And the makeup you slept with (though you're not too worried with it being Jess's and all her stuff is waterproof). “I— uh, we should probably go to sleep. I'm still tired and you just came back, right?”
“Yeah, but if you want to talk about something, anything—” Why is he making this so hard?
“No, no, we should just… wait, did Dean bring you here, with your bags? You don't have your car?” He confirms your words and you groan, walking past him to the kitchenette, opening the fridge door to hopefully find the iced tea you hid from Jess. Thank god for blueberry iced teas.
“I can go back to my apartment, it's no problem,” And you freeze your movements as you curse yourself under your breath. That isn't what you meant, you're just very overstimulated and there's too many thoughts going on in your head, you wish you could calm them down, and now sam is staying over, and he’ll probably expect you to crash with him in Jess’s room. 
“Sam, ‘m sorry, it’s just I’m so tired—”
“No, I get it. It’s fine, a cab—”
“What? No, I mean I’m sorry for being bitchy, I just wanna head to bed, that’s all. And I’m not hauling you into a cab, we’ll take Jess’s room… unless you wanna be alone?”
You look up from your drink to gouge his expression and he shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “‘Course not.”
Great. “Okay, you wanna drink something?” 
At his refusal with a short ‘thank you’, you tell him you’ll be in the room in a moment which he takes as the dismissal it is, shutting the door behind him so you’re completely alone in the living room. Kitchen. What the fuck ever this is. 
God, this is— you brush your hands through your hair shutting your eyes aggressively. You’re okay. It’s okay. The earth is still spinning and you haven’t failed any of your classes— and Sam is here and he’s being a loving boyfriend saying he misses you, what is wrong with you?
You decide that enough thinking’s enough as you drown the rest of your drink and enter the room with soft footsteps. Sam’s sprawled out on your best friend's bed and you check yourself out in the mirror quickly to see that, surprisingly, you look somewhat decent. You shut the lights off before you get in the bed, lying on your back just as Sam is. 
Is it rude to sleep on your side? Definitely is. You can’t find it in yourself to care as you do it, moving the covers so they aren’t all on your side, and sing yourself to sleep because what the hell else are you supposed to do after today?
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Waking up to the smell of fresh coffee and maybe even food? Yes. Always. Please. 
You don’t waste a second getting off the bed, not like you’re getting any more sleep with the sun filling the room with a warm, golden glow. You shut the blinds off for good measure before freshening up in the bathroom quickly, not wanting to miss whatever was happening in the kitchen outside.
The second you open the door you’re engulfed in the scent, though this time you notice how sweet it is. You smile as you look over and see— oh. Right. You forgot. That’s why you’re in Jess’s room.
Jess is sitting on the counter while Sam cooks, what you assume are pancakes, on the stove. At the sound of the door, they both face you, Jess quickly running off the counter and into your arms. You reciprocate in no time, squeezing her tighter. “You okay?” She whispers in your ear, as good of a friend as ever.
“‘M okay. Please stay today.” When you pull away, she nods at you, like it’s a given then drags you to where she was sitting, right next to Sam. His smile pulls at your heartstrings and he leans down for a kiss that— there’s no way you’re not kissing him back. Your left-hand lands on his bicep as you steady yourself. When he pulls away, he doesn’t go completely, his face inches from yours, and he steals another quick one. 
He’s back to cooking as he mumbles, “Missed you.” 
What’s happening right now?
What on earth is happening right now?
You’ll think about it when you’re more awake. Or at least when you have food in you. 
“Jess, what do you have planned for today?” you ask, your hand still on him as you rub it absentmindedly.
“I have classes— so do you, Sam!” Isn’t Jess a year younger than Sam? you never noticed how much she knows about the graduating class despite not being a part of it. She reads your mind like she's always done, “Gen’s with him, ‘sides most of my friends are from his class.”
Right. Gen. you should probably apologize to her for stealing her girlfriend for an entire night. Only god knows how she’s coping right now. When you glance at Jess you notice her surveying you and Sam, so you quickly take a step back to remove your hand.
“What about you, Sam? Any plans?” She listens, leaning over the island that separates the small kitchen from the living room, “other than class obviously, which you will be attending— by the way, Lily is so fucking pissed at you, dude.”
Sam throws his head back with a groan, “i know. She wont stop texting.”
That’s reassuring. He continues, “But I don't think I’m up for anything today. I’ll go the classes and talk to lily about finishing the project next week. You think she’ll understand?” His eyes catch yours and you feel obligated to answer with a quick nod. 
He’s back to flipping pancakes that look surprisingly delicious considering you’ve never once seen him cook before. Though, in your defense, you’ve usually eaten out for every dinner and breakfast you spent together. Which now that you think of it, isnt cost-effective. Someone should chek on your bank account. Not you, obviously, but someone should.
“It smells really good.” you compliment, gesturing to jess to bring you a brush, which she complies, leaving to find one. “Where’d you learn to make food like that?”
“Oh, it’s nothin’, i used to read lots of books growing up, guess i picked up some cooking ones.”
“Really? That’s nice. Dean mustve been real lucky having you try out recipes.” you joke, dipping a fork into the batter to try it. ‘S horrible, just like you expected. It isnt cake batter, it wont taste good, and you knew that— doesnt mean you wont try it.
“Yeah he didnt really, i mean i never actually cooked or anything, just read them and when i got the apartment with Gen i started cooking more, turns out its something i like.” oh its cute to think that coming to stanford, getting his own place with gen, had opened up this kind of opportunity for him, and it has you wondering what else he did when he was younger. Youd hardly spoke of either of your childhoods— mostly because as much as you love your parents, you dont like thinking too much of how they were when you were younger, and apparently that lead to not asking about sam’s. Hes never talked about his mum, now that you notice it.
Is she out of the picture? Are you even allowed to ask? Did you want to ask considering whats been on your mind since yesterday? God, you dont even know if youre going through with it. Hes here and hes cooking breakfast, kissing you, holding you— why would you want to let that go?
“Here, whore.” jess emerges from her room, throwing the hairbrush.
“Thanks, slut.” she smirks, plopping onto the couch and you catch the look of surprise on sam’s face. “What? Whats wrong? We’re joking its just a thing we do.”
“No, i now, just didn't know you do that. Never heard it before.”
“Yeah, i don't even know how it started but it's cute.” he agrees leaning down for another kiss which you, stupidly, let him do. Your hand comes up to brush against his cheek before you remember the object you’re holding and disconnect, sitting on the counter, brushing your roots so you can tie your hair back with no fly-away strands. “You okay?”
You nod, not quite meeting his eyes as you focus on making sure your hair is perfect without so much as a phone camera. “Really?” He prodes, “you don’t look it. You’ve been weird since yesterday, did I do something?” Oh, did you ever, Winchester . 
“No, Sam, ‘m fine.” He sighs but lets it go. It doesn’t take more than ten minutes for a stack of pancakes to finish cooking and Sam serves it on the counter next to maple syrup and some chocolate sauce he says he found in the fridge (you made it a few days ago but didn’t like it). 
Thankfully, everyone enjoys the food, and Jess seems like she has a lot to say about him skipping out on you, then coming back all of a sudden, for losing communication with her— she doesn’t bring up yesterday at all which helps you relax since you’re not even sure what you’re going to do anymore.
It’s ten by the time you’re all done and the dishes are in the sink, you (like a fucking idiot again) kiss sam’s cheek, thanking him excessively. “I’m glad you liked it, it was my first time, I think.”
“You think?” He takes a step closer, both hands coming to rest on your waist as he nods. Why does he just love talking when you’re close to each other? Don’t people have conversations a few feet away anymore? Not possible?
“Yeah, I’m not sure if the first time counts, ‘nothin like what you had today, I’ll tell you that.”
“Well, I’m proud of you, it was amazing.” You wish you could say you missed the faint blush on his cheeks, but you didn’t, and it did nothing but make you want to kiss him more.  “When do your classes start?”
“Two hours.” You frown, looking behind him at the clock you have hanged up. 
“Seriously?”
“Dead.” You groan, looking around to find his bags on the floor on your front door, “I already packed.”
“I didn’t know you unpacked.”
“I didn’t exactly, just got some stuff out for this morning, but I’m ready to go, I’ll see you later today?” 
You tilt your head after he kisses it, and you watch him walk away. “Today? What’s today?”
He shrugs, carding the duffel, “nothing specific, just thought I’d see you. If you want.”
If you want. Do you want? “Sure, we’ll see.” He nods, uncertain, before he yells out for Jess who rushes out of her room to hug him, muttering about ‘not being sure if she’ll ever see him again considering he likes to disappear’. 
Couldn’t have said it better, Jess. You don’t have any classes today but some studying would do you good so you lock yourself in your room for an hour before Jess barges in and you’re more confused to find she’s not at Sam’s than you are to see her in lace lingerie. Because. What. The. Fuck.
“Jess!”
“Do I look pretty?” She teases, twirling around like a Disney princess, before going for something more R-rated, playing with the waistband of her panties. “Was gonna wear it last night for Gen, so I wanna surprise her but I’m scared black isn't my color.”
“Slut! Absolute slut. You’re showing me your girlfriend’s outfit? Sluttiest whore there ever was.” She giggles, walking over to your desk, “black is definitely your color, babe, you know that, don’t worry about it, Gen’ll love it.”
She still seems hesitant, but because Jess would rather kill herself before ever giving you reason to comfort her, she changes the subject, closing your books, “okay, tell me about Sam.”
“What about him? He’s in class— or has class in an hour, just like you do.”
“You’re breaking up with him?” You shrug, leaning back in your seat, “what do you mean,” she repeats your gesture mockingly, slapping your shoulder, “man up and choose a side.”
“Not a man. And besides, he doesn’t know so—”
“Stop being like this,” she scolds, crossing her arms in front of her chest, though it does nothing for her modesty, not that you care, “I know you and you can’t even fucking focus on anatomy. Come on, you need to do something. Talk with Sam or stop trying at all, there’s no other option and you know it.”
“Yeah well the two options suck.” You groan, slamming your head down on the desk. “I—”
“You love him, yeah.”
“Do you… think he does too?” You mumble against the desk before hearing her sigh. And it fucking breaks your heart to hear it indirectly. She hasn’t said anything even yesterday. She didn’t deny it, but she didn’t confirm that your fears are valid— she is now. She’s telling you again, as if you haven’t repeated it like a prayer in your mind, that you’ve just gone too fast. 
“Sam cares about you, you know that, baby. I mean, he just cooked breakfast after staying the night. You guys shared the bed— he wants you, loves having you around.”
“But doesn’t love me.” You look up at her, already being sure tears will stain your face any moment now. 
“It’s not even about time, it’s just— you’re scared and you’re letting it affect everything else in your life.”
“Isn’t that normal—”
“It isn’t. You know it isn’t. Me and Gen spend almost everyday together, but I know my place in her life, as her friend, girlfriend, lover, that’s all I am. At least for now, till we’re done with college and then me and her will figure it out. You’re different, you’re thinking of the future all the time and you’re overthinking what he says when he’s not here, and Sam's been doing things that don’t sit right with you— I know he has, don’t tell me he hasn’t. The first night you spent at his apartment when we told you about Lily I knew something was off. You don’t deserve to live in fear and anxiety because of a man being in your life. And it isn’t Sam’s fault, maybe— it’s not yours either, but it’s just not the right time.”
What’s worse, hearing what you want to hear or hearing what’s honest?
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“Hey, Sam. I know you’re in class right now so just, call me when you’re done, we need to talk.” You wince at the last phrase, regretting it already. You’re about to put the phone down when it starts to vibrate with a call from him. Huh.
“Hey, baby, I’m done with class, I was just speaking with the professor. I haven't listened to your voicemail yet, what's wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shut your eyes at the lie, your breathing heavy, “just need to see you. Or actually,” you can’t bring him in blind, “it is something. Just, when can I see you?”
“Oh. I have a few classes then the project with Lily, so maybe eight?”
“Is there— when’s your next class?”
“Few hours.”
“Can we meet up now?”
“Is it important? because I don’t wanna cut it short and I don’t want to be late for class.”
“It’s important but it won’t take long.” He sighs, probably at your vague answers before deciding to meet up with you in your apartment. Like the gentlemen he is. That you’re leaving. 
You call Jess the entire twenty minutes it takes him to knock on your door and she helps your through it all, the same way she has the second this started.
He greets you with a smile, though it doesn’t reach his eyes, and somehow that eases your worry. At least he knows something is coming. You close the door behind it and gulp before you let go of the knob and lean against it, not sitting down. He’ll probably want to leave anyways. 
“What’s wrong? Is this about why you’ve been acting this way since yesterday?”
Maybe. Why does your mouth stop fucking working the second you actually have to say something? How on earth is that fucking fair. “It’s not fair.” Oh, great. There goes your speech.
“What’s not—”
“It’s not fair to us, what’s happening right now so I think we should just, you know, like not be together.”
Like, not be together? Way to show off how much of a seventeen year old you actually are.
“What?” He— Sam looks genuinely confused and that’s not something you anticipated. 
“Breaking up. I’m breaking off what we’re doing because it’s just not working.” And that seems to register for him, finally and lets out a defeated breath, rubbing a hand over his face. “What?”
“I knew it was coming, I just have no fucking idea why. Why you’ve been so— I just need an explanation.” 
“It’s everything, okay? It’s my fault, I started this knowing I wasn’t ready for a relationship and you’re great, Sam, but it’s not what I need right now.” You’re not sure what you’re saying half way through, this is not the script you rehearsed and he’s furrowing his eyebrows at you, shaking his head as if to say ‘bullshit’. “It’s a lot of things that we just can’t change about you and about me, we’re just not supposed to be together.”
“Don’t give me that crap, what can’t we change? And why can’t we change it?” He’s frustrated, not exactly angry and you wish you could gauge more of his feelings than just that but the truth is you’re radiating fear and anxiety that you can’t focus on anyone else’s emotions. “And why are you so tense?”
“Because I’m—”
“Breaking it off doesn’t mean you have to be shaking.” His voice is slightly raised so he cuts himself off, taking a breath before taking a step towards you, “You shouldn’t be shaking, okay? It’s fine, I respect your decision, but talking about this is also important.”
“But it’s over, right?” He tilts his head in confusion. “I mean, because, you’re not trying to convince me or anything, you’re just asking.”
“I’m not, what does that even mean? Do you not want me to fight for us?”
“Fighting for us would entitle fighting me, so I don’t think so. I’m sure this is the right thing to do, Sam. I’m very sure—.”
“Why?”
“Because of a—”
“Real fucking answers.” You flinch at his tone, supporting your weight on the other leg.. 
“A lot of what you think is okay and normal just isn’t with me. Like hanging out with Lily or leaving out of nowhere with Dean—”
“We talked about both of these things before I decided on them! Do you just keep a list of all the things I’m doing that you slightly disapprove of?”
“No, but it’s still early and this just shows we’re not for each other.”
“What about the things that show that we are? Studying at the apartment, the dinners, what was all of that? If you’re gonna make a list at least make it fair.”
“This isn’t a list!” You huff, angry at this point and you move away from the door so you’re not standing face to face, “it’s what I think is right. And I can’t live like this if I’m going to have to be okay with all of these things.”
“Live like this? You’re making thsi sound like—”
“—that’s just the way I see it, Sam.” You’re not sure what you would do if you hear him mock your overthinking. Mock marriage and your future.
“Well it’s wrong. I think we’re good for each other when you aren’t getting in your head about everything. You don’t have to think about things so intensely, and I’m not brushing your feelings aside, I get that they’re there, but if you keep giving them more than they deserve they’ll eat at you.” 
“So will being with you.”
You’re a lot of things, but weak isn’t one of them. You’re starting to think that just isn’t true. And it’s starting to sink in as you watch Sam scoff out a breath, his hands covering his eyes as if he’s willing the entire conversation away.
And you’re starting to think it’s not true when he makes a move to leave the door.
And you’re sure it’s not true when you let him leave without a word.
part eight (epilogue); honey, you're familiar.  
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title: all my habits came back around (calgary by tate mcrae)
as we near the end of this thing I made that you guys decided to care about, I want to say thank you. I wrote the first chapter as a one-shot, and here we are over thirty thousand words later. I'm so grateful to this fic for how much it has allowed me to interact with the fandom and the amazing people in it.
on another note, this is not the end— don't worry— though this is exactly how I wanted the fic to go because when I wrote this, I had a very specific character in mind: one who is self-sabotaging and constantly struggling with an internal battle, she's complicated. While, of course, she will figure that out, it won't be now, and it won't be with Sam.
this doesn't spoil anything for the last and final chapter, but I did want to give some of my thoughts + I'm a sucker for reusing the first words of the first chapter in the end if you guys noticed + swear this series is a happy ending just wait!!
tag list:
@angzls @chxrrybomb22 @pinkpantheris @ang3ldool @iloveragdollcats 
@oohjana18294 @user-2538484747490203746579403 @wattpaduser200 @s0urw00lf @ashlynyyyyy
@strabarrybat @anu-piyakya97 @tranquilitybasegrunge
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