#I’ve self-isolated so much that I don’t know how I’ll manage. but I’ll be in a bookstore for the first time in 4 months! can u believe it??

[a-very-fond-farewell]

ok the vibe is: I’m just a silly little guy in a dreadful little world. time to go back to my roots (*eats croutons straight from the bag*)

[nights-at-crystarium]

Okay, the recent surge of new followers thanks to the twitter exodus, and now your boy Vivien Fucksalot Rell on the tumblr radar, has me wanting to make some kinda welcome post.

The face of a man who made it to the tumblr radar for the first time C:

Who’s this guy you just saw? Yeah, first and foremost, it’s a cis male, he’s just full of gay and Gender (tm) \o/

Vivi is my WoL who I ship with G’raha Tia and I like to make it everyone’s problem. He’s the main character of the fancomic Fragments that I started this summer. I love ShB so much that I’ve decided to dedicate the next few years of my life to drawing and writing about it. And I believe I’ve got what it takes to tell a story that, in equal amounts, will entertain and break you 🖤

Vivi was tailor-made to interact with G’raha. I’m an experienced oc maker and, how to put it, character chemist? Give me two characters with some fun traits, like the base ingredients for a cocktail, I’ll toss them in a blender, shake it real good, and make the magical chemistry happen. My wolgraha ship is almost 1 year old at this point, I’m still spending every day thinking about them and writing down A LOT of things, random art ideas, fics, and, of course, the comic script, so.. Yeah it’s a good cocktail.

I’m keeping most of the Vivi things close to my heart since you’re yet to learn about him in Fragments. That’s the whole point. But the non-spoilery material is already fun enough imo. You take a look at him and you see: edge, intensity, duality, gremlin, idiot.

He was made in December 2021, got decently developed as a character by April 2022, kept getting more polished since then. I wanna make another post talking about him in a month or so, on his first birthday. For now please perceive him being the fun lil guy he is C:

What about the person behind it all though? My artist username is NextLVL, my own name is Aho or Vel, nb, he/they, a 32 years old self-taught artist who has a bit too much to deal with irl, and I’m holding on to my wolgraha obsession as the only means to stay sane. These guys are my everything. Seriously. Fragments is my first big project that so far has been incredibly validating for me as an artist, and that has given me hope to work on it fulltime thanks to my Patreon. Yes, plugging it because I’ve gotta eat. I’m earning for my living with my art, recent events in the social media sphere have thrown my livelihood into an even greater risk territory. I literally don’t know if I still can earn for my living tomorrow. So, I’ve been pushing my Patreon which looks like the safest and most stable option atm.

Here’s a “nutshell” for how I feel as an artist. Look, I didn’t say it, others did.

I’m working hard to bring something beautiful to the world that’s just an unceasing dumpster fire nowadays. I’m under a METRIC TON of mental pressure, yet I still manage to isolate from it and keep arting, for you and for myself. So yeah.. Thanks for looking, hope you like what I create. If you like it so much that you wanna support me, it’d mean literally everything to me. Thank you 🖤

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Prompt: "It's not too late, let's go." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

-

“You know, I can’t help but feel a little left out.”

Gale didn’t jump, at least, and he was quite proud of himself for that. But the little jolt and shiver from being snuck up on—by a vampire no less—just couldn’t be avoided. Astarion, on the other hand, looked casual as anything, absently fiddling with his telescope.

“I’d love to know what I’m leaving you out of,” Gale said, shutting his book.

“Well, my bunk’s right across from yours, so don’t think I missed your little light show with our fearless leader. Reaching into the Weave or whatever it is you call it.” Astarion sent him a pointy grin. “So why does he get magic lessons, and the rest of us don’t?”

There’s no good way to answer this. Luckily, Gale was spared a sputtered out reply as Astarion continued.

“Why, did you ever consider that I might want to learn magic?”

Gale squinted at him as he set his book aside. That’s the thing he was finding with Astarion—it was very difficult to figure out how much he said was just to rile people up, and how much was genuine. Falerin managed quite well with him, given the looks they’d been giving each other, but Gale? Even before his self-imposed year of isolation, reading people had never been his strong suit, and the tadpole really should be helping more than it was.

“Well, you seem to have a good grasp on what you do know,” he finally said. “You know the basics, clearly, and I…well, I’ll be honest, I just assumed this sort of thing wouldn’t interest you.”

Astarion’s hand paused on the telescope, red eyes narrowed as they met Gale’s gaze. “Because you think I’m stupid.”

“What? No! I-I never…what would make you think I…?”

“Oh, it’s not personal. You probably think everyone here is stupid. Here you are, Gale of Waterdeep, big-shot wizard with your plush tower waiting for you. And you’re stuck with us peons while we search for a cure.” Astarion pushed the telescope, sending it spinning. “I know your type. I’ve lured plenty just like you back to Cazador. Perhaps not with your taste in magic items, but deep down, you’re the same.”

“Astarion.” The name came out much sterner than Gale meant it to, and that seemed to give the elf pause. “I don’t think anyone here is stupid, including you. I’ve seen you be plenty cunning, and that requires no small amount of intelligence.”

Astarion’s eyes darted over him, looking for the lie. He swallowed after a moment, then looked back at the telescope. “I really was a magistrate, you know,” he said, voice softer and missing the venom from just a moment before. “Yes, I may have had some help getting there, but that was still very impressive for an elf of my age. And I took it seriously! Too seriously, even, considering that’s how I…wound up like this.” He let out a long breath through his nose, falling silent.

Gale chewed the inside of his lip as he crossed his arms, thinking of the best way to respond. This, he knew, was deeper than just wanting to learn about magic, or even just being clever. But unless he was going to do a dive into Astarion’s mind—which, from experience, was decidedly not a pleasant way to share information—there was no way to tell how he should respond.

“Then let me show you how to reach into the Weave,” he finally said. “You’re able to do it, same as Falerin and I did. It just takes some instruction, and I am more than glad to give it.” He stepped up to stand beside him. “After all, it’s not too late, let’s go. Give it a try.”

A strange look crossed Astarion’s face, like he was caught between surprise and suspicion. His pale brows drew together, and he looked for a moment as though he was going to accept the offer. But instead, he scoffed with a haughty little toss of his head.

“Some of us got our arses handed to us by a pack of kobolds earlier today, so I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” he said. He once again locked his eyes on Gale’s; this time, though, there was no calculation or suspicion. Just…relief. “But another time, maybe.”

“Just say the word.”

Astarion gave him a little smirk just on the edge of being a real smile, then adjusted the telescope back to where it was before. “Sleep well, Gale,” he said breezily as he turned to head back to his camp. “I’ll let you know if we find any tasty items while we’re out tomorrow.”

Gale puffed out a laugh, then shook his head as he went to pick up his book. Look at that, he was getting people skills. Well, vampire skills. He’d have to tell Tara about this when he got home.

[babyfairy]

here’s a much needed life updates post! even though generally speaking not a whole lot has happened lol

life has been pretty difficult since i lost my grandpa truthfully. it’s been a lot of struggling since then. lately in particular (as in the last few months) i’ve been struggling mentally more than ever. i think im going through one of those really painful transitional/growth periods (which figures, it’s about time for my saturn return) but i also think i am neurodivergent in some way? as in im like 99.99999% sure i am neurodivergent. i can’t think of any other explanation for the way my brain works and for the way i am struggling.

it’s weird because i have a lot of guilt about exploring the idea of possibly being neurodivergent. i’ve been talking with my doctor about it and every time we’re done talking i feel like im a liar or that im manipulating her or others into believing i could be neurodivergent in order to have an excuse for just not being a good person, friend, daughter, sister etc. i’ve been talking with her about OCD specifically. there are a lot of things im learning about OCD that i relate to and that have been completely taking over my life since the death of my grandfather. but i also relate to a lot of the traits of autism, so truthfully i don’t really know what’s going on and not knowing has been isolating and sort of difficult and scary. i have this intense need to know what’s “wrong” with me or why i act/think/feel the way i do. i think that in and of itself is a symptom but i’ve always been that way. i think i have trouble relinquishing control. and lately i just feel very out of control. my work, friendships, family life, self esteem, and everything all just feel extremely unstable lmao and i know the primary reason is me. because i’m always bracing for the next terrible thing to happen and i’m always worried about ruining everything or hurting someone or i don’t even know what. i worry every moment that i am awake.

i’ve been adjusting my meds under the advice of my doctor and a psychiatrist and im trying to get back into therapy but god is it intimidating lol! i don’t know why! i think the thought of starting all over with a new therapist just scares me a lot. i know i have to do it though because i can’t manage this on my own anymore at all. and i have no idea how to make it any better or manage my stress. so physically and mentally im doing really poorly. i think maybe worse than ever. but i’m alive lol and i’m trying to get back to a point where i feel ok and not so paranoid and distressed all the time. im just trapped in this horrible cycle. it’s really frustrating. and i just want to understand why but i don’t for now and i have to be ok with that.

it isn’t all bad though lol and i do have things to look forward to. im trying my best to build and deepen new relationships so i feel less isolated. being agoraphobic in your early 20s really does a number on your social life!!! i managed to get beyoncé tickets and im planning on flying to visit some of my closest friends later this year. so i have things to look forward to and that helps keep me going on the days where i just want to give up. it’s hard 😅 but hopefully it won’t be this hard for too much longer and i’ll be able to look back on this time period and feel proud of myself for pushing past it. because right now truthfully i just feel ashamed and sad most of the time. i think shame and guilt are like my primary emotions lol. and just general tiredness. but i’m trying my best to claw my way out of it

[glittertomb]

Very personal but important question(s?) regarding chronic health issues and disability

So I’ve had fibromyalgia and Gastroparesis for about a decade now, and I try my best to self-manage these issues (in addition to the expensive meds they give me that don’t really provide relief), but it becomes severely difficult for me to work a full schedule, particularly when my job drains me physically, mentally, and emotionally. I spend my days off in complete recovery mode, absolutely bed-ridden, afraid to do anything social or physical, because I risk going into a total Fibro meltdown. Which is a nightmare, but I’ll spare you the details.

I’ve been considering applying for partial disability because I think working 3 or 4 days instead of 5 or 6 would be much better for most humans, honestly, but particular for someone like me who deals with chronic nausea, discomfort, and pain on the daily. I’ve been putting it off for ages though because I know that disability can be very difficult to get and a horrible process and I can’t work myself up to it or afford a disability lawyer to help me. I tried being a little more aggressive this past summer and collected “documentation” on my fibromyalgia in the hope of preparing to submit it, and literally all of my documentation says “fibromyalgia?” because apparently none of my doctors believe me after years of testing and thousands of dollars of office visits trying to get this diagnosis. To be honest, using fibromyalgia as my reasoning for disability needs was a dead end anyway because lots of doctors still don’t believe it exists, so I doubt the government would find that a good reason either. And I really doubt they would take the Gastroparesis seriously either, even though both of these conditions are dehabilitating at times.

So one of my friends recommended I go through the avenue of my mental health issues. At different points of my life I’ve been diagnosed with depression, anxiety, bipolar, ocd, adhd, etc, and who knows what the real answer is, but she’s a mess. I’ve been realizing over the past couple years that I’m very likely autistic, and that would actually explain a lot of these things, but the past 6 months have been crazy, and even though I’ve been working a bunch, I’m poorer than ever because of the rising cost of everything, so I cannot afford to get a formal diagnosis yet. But I know that I told my most recent psychiatrist all these horror stories about my anxiety, so I decided to get done documentation for her too, and guess what? Generalized depression and mild anxiety. Girl, huh? (Tw: blood and dermatillomania coming up) I showed her evidence of scars on my hands from picking my hands every night til I bleed everywhere, I described how I get overwhelmed and cry at work several times a week and often fight back panic attacks at work and in my private life, I told her than I struggled to fall asleep and stay asleep and only got collectively about a few hours every night, I told her that I literally could not socialize without using alcohol as a crutch but I can no longer do that because of my digestive issues so I self-isolate, I told her that I struggle to maintain eye contact and panic when people give me eye contact… so many stories like these. Mild anxiety smdh

So that comes to my first question cause I guess I decided while writing this that I have a couple:

1) How do you, as a female-presenting person, get a diagnosis for severe anxiety? How wild do my stories have to be without accidentally committing myself?! I have an ex, amab, who basically pulled a john Mulaney and was like, “I get nervous on planes sometimes” and he legit got a prescription for Xanax or one of those other big ones, and another who is on a dose of gabapentin 5x the strength of mine because he gets social anxiety sometimes, so this is especially frustrating that I can’t even get a dang proper diagnosis on anything after ten+ years of therapy, doctors, tests, everything.

2) What is the process like for getting an autism diagnosis and are there cheaper routes you can go that would still be credible? I’ve exhausted my expenses from years of jobs not paying my worth combined with money poured down the drain trying to get any sort of help with my kaleidoscope of issues, and at this point I’m too broke and demotivated and burnt out to figure out a way forward.

3. Has anyone been able to get partial or full disability who would be willing to hold my hand through the steps and keep me motivated? I know it’s a huge ask but I honestly get so anxious even thinking about the process that I completely shut down. At the very least, maybe you could explain what worked for you or how you would approach it better next time? I just moved far away from my support group so I’m feeling alone and even a word of caution or encouragement would help.

I know I’m not really as connected to this community as I used to be, but I’m hoping someone will get to the end of this and even a kind word or a smidge of sympathy/empathy would be nice. And please do reach out if you have fibro because I don’t meet many and it would be nice to have friends who can relate. Thank you for listening! 💜💜💜

[ina-nis]

None of the books I read, none of the articles I found talked about the intersections of loneliness and queerness (more specifically transness, and even more specifically genderlessness), or the intersections of loneliness and chronic illnesses (like fatigue and pain).

When they do talk something about queerness, it’s as if it was endemic to the status of being out as queer: of course you’ll feel lonely and alienated from the majority, so the very simple solution is to find other queer people.

Queer people are all different though. Even if the idea is to have an united front, the reality is that it’s very much not like that. If you don’t follow the culture and the customs, you fall behind and end up ostracized too. If you don’t fit (as ironic as that sounds), you have no space or voice. In an ideal world, everything would work out wonderfully, but what ends up happening is that when you get a bunch of marginalized people together they will bond over similar experiences and if you don’t have similar experiences, you won’t bond at all, among other things.

Disabled spaces tend to be welcoming but it’s depressing that loneliness and isolation seem to be part of the “norm” - and it’s no wonder, really. Living with a chronic condition (be it mental or physical) can be very isolating.

When you mix and match these, and any other strings of marginalization, it ends up being too big of a burden. It’s understandable that AvPD has so much room and fuel to grow. How do you connect when you queerness feel alien even amidst queer people? How do you connect when you are out of social spaces due to chronic fatigue or something else?

Oh, of course, the problem is that I’m just adding more and more sand and burying myself “before even trying something”, huh?

I got where I am as a result of trying though. Trying a lot.

If you try long enough without any success, it gets more tiring and painful quicker. It’s just not worth it.

I have very little energy, both emotional and physical. I don’t want to waste it “trying” anymore things.

Where do I find literature or treatments that can help me with that?

Like AvPD, all these conditions are incurable. Even when I manage them, I’ll never have the same amount of energy a person normally would do. Trying to treat AvPD as if I was a neurotypical ablebodied person is not going to work.

In the same way, trying to shove my own personal queerness into some boxes so I can find a space amidst others isn’t going to work either. I have no intention of making myself more palatable or easier to understand for the comfort of others. That’s their problem, not mine.

If all that makes me “treatment-resistant” and “too strict” and stubborn, so be it.

I’m better on my own.

I’m done changing parts of myself to try to please others. Look where I got. Look how well that have worked out for me.

Fuck, I am so, so done with chasing after people. I’ve talked about this before... the more I feel confident in myself, the less inferior and wrong I see myself, the more I embrace and love all my peculiarities and weird habits that make me who I am, the more I see how these unique traits and mannerisms make me special and amazing in my own particular way.

I know for a fact that if I don’t hype myself up no one will. And hyping myself up is a great way to see my self-worth and accept me where I stand. I’m trying to change what serves no purpose, and trying to enhance the things I already enjoy.

It will get even better.

[idkhowtopickausername]

2, 7 and 17 for utena?

Yaaay thank u for indulging me! 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

2. My favorite thing about it is actually like a dozen interconnected things I really love how it critiques the idea of saving someone and the savior/saved dynamic (and how poignantly it does so) and also how it deconstructs the idea of the pure innocent victim vs. the conniving evil manipulator, and how complex and real Anthy is as a character, and how it shows that other characters perceiving her as one or the other is self-serving and contributes to her pain and denies her full humanity. I also really like how in Utena’s character arc she starts out with a goal that depends on success within the current system but is also doomed to fail both as a means of helping Anthy and as a means of being who she wants to be because success within the dueling system leads to Akio who enforces a level of conformity and complicity that goes against who she is. And the way that she really has to confront that she was complicit in hurting Anthy in a way that I rarely see ‘heroic’ characters forced to self-examine. But that despite the power of these structures and the suffering they lead to, they are neither natural nor inevitable but constructed and upheld by lies and illusions and authority and preying on people’s pain and insecurity. And the fact that Utena’s idealism wasn’t intrinsically wrong or naive, just misdirected, and they needed to let the structure crumble and walk away from it to create something new, despite how terrifying that prospect was!!! Anyway in short I think it manages to confront a lot of pain and disillusionment in a very real and nuanced and brutally honest way but still offer a form of genuine hope that doesn’t feel fake or ignorant or patronizing. Sorry that was long.

And my least favorite thing is that I think despite providing really meaningful, insightful, and gut-wrenching critiques of the sexualization of underage girls, it’s not totally exempt from doing the same thing at certain isolated moments (that would be easier to overlook if it weren’t for parts of the movie and marketing + and the fact that I’ve heard it’s sort of a problem in Ikuhara’s other works as well). And I think also, while incest plays a really important thematic role in the story and is handled really well textually, I don’t feel as confident as some other fans that the choice to focus on it was purely for reasons of criticism despite how insightful and worthwhile that criticism is (mainly because the bathtub scene with Kozue and Miki in the movie was…very weird and unnecessary imo). Additionally I think the way it handles race is not great either. In short my least favorite thing about it is that the things that bother me about it are in such close proximity to the things I think it does well and that I love about it 😞

Wow that was a long-winded response to one number.

7. Character that feels like home: Hmmm maybe Utena. Anthy is my ultimate fav but there’s something very homey about Utena and the way she chatters about things.

17. Line I quote most: I wouldn’t say I really quote anything from rgu that much (although “It’s a big mistake to think you’re the only one who can turn into a car” is pretty funny to bring up) but quotes I really love and think about a lot are:

“We’ll be living happily in the castle…but what about Himemiya?”

“Himemiya you don’t know, do you? The only time I’ve ever been really happy was when I was with you.”

“You really don’t know what’s happened do you? It doesn’t matter. By all means stay in this cozy coffin of yours and continue playing prince. But I have to go now…She isn’t gone at all. She’s just vanished from your world. Goodbye.”

Plus the whole rooftop conversation and cantarella scene. Also I think, while being perspectives that are critiqued later and don’t fully reflect the message of the show, the “in the end…all girls are like the rose bride” quote and Utena saying “I’ll become a prince and save her” in the flashback in episode 34 are incredibly powerful in context.

[next-lvl]

Finally forcing myself to talk about the elephant in the room.

Wakfu, the fandom, my and Ake’s ocs, everything that didn’t happen around this February, when I did a month-long countdown, hyping up something big that then never came to be.

I worked on this enormous (20 or so characters, 6k+ pixels resolution - larger than I’d ever drawn) tribute, directly nodding towards the famous Wakfu poster by Xa, but with my and Ake’s babies.

I started around December, remade the base sketch several times, this kind of a group pic’s way outside my comfort zone so I had to put extra effort in. Around the end of January I started doing the lines, remade them two times (and probably will again), the pressure of the deadline + my own style not quite matching the old vibes anymore turned this into quite a challenge, but I was willing to brace through it, for the love of these characters and the fandom itself, place I’ve spent 10+ years in.

It was February, the countdown pics already trickled in one after another. I didn’t have the luxury of being fresh and able to draw every day, I’m in a perpetual fight with insomnia on top of other mental and physical issues, so I’d jump at the opportunity to draw every few days or so. I work in bursts. I also had this growing distraction of another passion fighting for my art energy, you know, those catboys and long elves. Balancing everything was nightmarish, but I WAS managing.

Until the very end of February, when, instead of the 10th Wakfu anniversary, there was war.

I live in Russia, regrettably and unfortunately. Won’t go into details, those who need it already have read my posts from back then, in short my livelihood got under a major, although not quite physical, threat overnight. Companies started cutting their services en masse, Paypal included - I’m a self-employed artist fully depending on it to survive - there was so much to deal with, for me alone, not backed up by anyone irl, panicking, jumping from one hastily made plan to another.. It was living hell. Running a bit ahead: it still is.

Since I’m talking about this big picture that hasn’t quite gone anywhere, I’ll try to retain my focus on it. Somehow the accumulated stress from the challenge itself, plus the emotional devastation from war and how it affected my already miserable life, devastation from failing what felt like the most important deadline, something the 10 years and the month-long hype countdown led up to, resulted in me completely crumbling and being unable to continue working on this. For months.

It’s May. Almost June. Real life shit’s still bad, in fact I’m going through another horrible episode, the war caused ripples that still reach and mess up my life in the most physical way. I talked about it recently on my personal twitter if you wanna know details.

And yet, to an outside observer it looks like I’m super productive, I’ve been doodling away on my new FFXIV blog. This’s already quite an essay, I won’t hide it under the cut since it’s THAT important to me, but I can’t well explain the workings of my tired brain, stressed and pushed past the limits. I’ve fixated on this new obsession for good because it’s my only escape since the beginning of the year. My life and my sanity are hanging on one fraying thread, and that thread’s wolgraha that I’ve been drawing to comfort myself nearly every day.

They’re my will to live and love, externalized. This’s how I’m coping.

If I isolate from everything bad in my life, then, bizarrely, it’s the happiest I’ve been in almost a decade. I feel alive, in love on behalf of my new oc, I work on his story, processing his feelings does wonderful things to me. It still does nothing to improve my real life, yet, I’m content with living in my head like this for a while if it means surviving.

What about Wakfu art, ocs and the picture itself? I’m not giving up. I WILL finish it, just don’t know when. The deadline’s failed, the stress and guilt associated with that are a lot. Sorry. Everything’s too much for me alone nowadays. My state’s disastrous, in nearly constant fight or flight mode at one hand, reaching for the comfort of my current obsession and being utterly fullfilled by it, on the other hand.

I’m still standing. I made the wolgraha obsession my everything, I’ve even found decent success and a cozy niche in the new fandom during this year, I wake up, check my platforms and there’s something sweet about my dorks, something that keeps me going. It’ll stay this way for a while. They’re my only strength currently, but I’m lucky to have them at all. Some of my fellow russian artist friends have it much worse nowadays. I’m holding on.

This isn’t the end: of my real life, of my Wakfu life, of everything. I’ll keep going. Just need time to sort this mess out. Thanks for reading and sticking with me.

[chemicaljacketslut]

heyy so i have recently become OBSESSED with college and the admissions process and etc etc (like. literally spending all my time researching and watching videos and calculating what grades i need and studying to retake the act and brainstorming application stuff) and like. okay. advice. im wracking my brain and idk maybe i’ll think of something from my childhood or something where i’ve grown, but as of now it’s like. im not in a great place; actually, i’ve backslid a lot and have a lot more growing to do. like im definitely in a stagnant, regressed period of my life if that makes sense?? but if im wanting to write an essay about me, about some kind of lesson i’ve learned or growth i’ve experienced that really encapsulates me and shows im a good college candidate… how am i supposed to write that when i feel like i haven’t grown at all? yk? and even the things i have grown on (like managing my depression) i’ve un-grown on recently lol (lots of self-isolating that has basically made nearly all of my friendships nonexistent, etc). i know i don’t HAVE to write an essay on some kind of growth i’ve had but i feel like that’s a good way to make an easy emotional connection which is the strength in a college essay as the rest of the application is logos, so that’s what im first shooting for in this brainstorming phase. so like. sigh. idk what to do and idk who to ask. i’ll figure it out yk but feels good to vent into the void and if anyone has any advice twould be much appreciated

[mirrorballtales]

It’s been a really long time since I’ve been honest. With myself. With anyone. I think I have an internal filter, my conscience being my personal PR manager, telling me that if I say too much, if I take one more step, if I drive one more mile, if I shed one more tear, if I really say what I feel they won’t love me. If I let them see how damaged I am inside, they won’t love me. And I don’t know if I can handle that. I don’t think I could. If I knew they found how badly torn I am inside, they won’t want me anymore.

Sometimes I just think it’s okay if I go. I’m at peace with it. It’s like this darkness won’t let up. It’s relentless in its quest to consume me. Everything I do to fight it is met with a resistance I can’t keep fighting anymore.

I’ve never felt more alone in my life. I’ve created a bubble, isolated myself, driven everyone away because I’m so afraid no one will want me to stay with them. No one will miss me. No one will ask me to stay and I can’t handle it. I can’t take it. I can’t do this alone anymore. I am so tired of being strong and holding it all inside. I’m tired of waiting for me to forget it ever happened. I’m tired of waiting to not throw up whenever I smell a cologne that resembles his. I’m tired of wanting to be seen as a women and feeling like I don’t get to have that because they ripped everything from me. They didn’t care that I’d live with their handprints all over me.

Sometimes I think I’m okay. Sometimes I think I forgot what their eyes looked like, I forgot what their hands felt like, I forgot what it felt like to not breathe, sometimes I think I forgot what their voice sounded like, or what clothes I was wearing, or how sore my muscles were the next day, sometimes I forget the position my bruises were in. Sometimes I forget their names. And sometimes I think I’m healed. Then I see someone on tv that looks like them, or someone without thought wore the cologne he did too, or someone says a phrase they used to say, or they wear their hair like one of them did, or they have his name and I hide like a child, under my covers. And I get so angry. They get to live their lives. Happily. They get to go out and not give me a second thought. Their life didn’t stop. They don’t live in a loud silence. They don’t wake up in the middle of the night thinking it’s happening. They don’t drive others away. They don’t burst into tears when they shower and see the ugly scar they left me with. They don’t have to explain to anyone why it’s there. They don’t have a picture of their 13 year old self wondering if they could have done more to save her.

Every day I fight to find a reason to stay. Every day I tell myself I need to stay so I don’t hurt others but no one has begged me to stay. No one has made sure I’m breathing. No one has turned on every light I’ve turned off. And I think it’s because there’s no reason to want me here anymore. Sometimes I think that’s the day I’ll find peace. When I go to a leep into an eternal respite.

Maybe I’m asking too much of this earth. But I’ve asked for nothing. And received hell in return. I think I’d like a hug. I think I’d like for someone to just tell me they need me to stay. Unconditionally.

But I think that’s like wishing on a shooting star that isn’t there. Like walking to the gardens of Babylon that don’t exist.

I’m really tired. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. There is no reason.

In another life, in another time maybe my soul would have been worth fighting for. I wouldn’t have to apologize for being alive. But I’m really tired and I just want to go.

I wish the world saw all the love and light inside of me. That I too want to give it away. Freely. That I want the sunrise to caress my cheeks, and I want the wind to envelop me in her fury, the rain to make me clean, the night with its starry sky sparkling thru my eyes. And to scream that I survived. To scream that I’m alive. To scream that they didn’t win. And I want the world to scream that they love me back. To hold my hand and beg me to stay.

And I’m sorry for that too.

[slusheeduck]

Fictober 2023 Prompt: "It's not too late, let's go." Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

-

“You know, I can’t help but feel a little left out.”

Gale didn’t jump, at least, and he was quite proud of himself for that. But the little jolt and shiver from being snuck up on—by a vampire no less—just couldn’t be avoided. Astarion, on the other hand, looked casual as anything, absently fiddling with his telescope.

“I’d love to know what I’m leaving you out of,” Gale said, shutting his book.

“Well, my bunk’s right across from yours, so don’t think I missed your little light show with our fearless leader. Reaching into the Weave or whatever it is you call it.” Astarion sent him a pointy grin. “So why does he get magic lessons, and the rest of us don’t?”

There’s no good way to answer this. Luckily, Gale was spared a sputtered out reply as Astarion continued.

“Why, did you ever consider that I might want to learn magic?”

Gale squinted at him as he set his book aside. That’s the thing he was finding with Astarion—it was very difficult to figure out how much he said was just to rile people up, and how much was genuine. Falerin managed quite well with him, given the looks they’d been giving each other, but Gale? Even before his self-imposed year of isolation, reading people had never been his strong suit, and the tadpole really should be helping more than it was.

“Well, you seem to have a good grasp on what you do know,” he finally said. “You know the basics, clearly, and I…well, I’ll be honest, I just assumed this sort of thing wouldn’t interest you.”

Astarion’s hand paused on the telescope, red eyes narrowed as they met Gale’s gaze. “Because you think I’m stupid.”

“What? No! I-I never…what would make you think I…?”

“Oh, it’s not personal. You probably think everyone here is stupid. Here you are, Gale of Waterdeep, big-shot wizard with your plush tower waiting for you. And you’re stuck with us peons while we search for a cure.” Astarion pushed the telescope, sending it spinning. “I know your type. I’ve lured plenty just like you back to Cazador. Perhaps not with your taste in magic items, but deep down, you’re the same.”

“Astarion.” The name came out much sterner than Gale meant it to, and that seemed to give the elf pause. “I don’t think anyone here is stupid, including you. I’ve seen you be plenty cunning, and that requires no small amount of intelligence.”

Astarion’s eyes darted over him, looking for the lie. He swallowed after a moment, then looked back at the telescope. “I really was a magistrate, you know,” he said, voice softer and missing the venom from just a moment before. “Yes, I may have had some help getting there, but that was still very impressive for an elf of my age. And I took it seriously! Too seriously, even, considering that’s how I…wound up like this.” He let out a long breath through his nose, falling silent.

Gale chewed the inside of his lip as he crossed his arms, thinking of the best way to respond. This, he knew, was deeper than just wanting to learn about magic, or even just being clever. But unless he was going to do a dive into Astarion’s mind—which, from experience, was decidedly not a pleasant way to share information—there was no way to tell how he should respond.

“Then let me show you how to reach into the Weave,” he finally said. “You’re able to do it, same as Falerin and I did. It just takes some instruction, and I am more than glad to give it.” He stepped up to stand beside him. “After all, it’s not too late, let’s go. Give it a try.”

A strange look crossed Astarion’s face, like he was caught between surprise and suspicion. His pale brows drew together, and he looked for a moment as though he was going to accept the offer. But instead, he scoffed with a haughty little toss of his head.

“Some of us got our arses handed to us by a pack of kobolds earlier today, so I’m afraid I’ll have to decline,” he said. He once again locked his eyes on Gale’s; this time, though, there was no calculation or suspicion. Just…relief. “But another time, maybe.”

“Just say the word.”

Astarion gave him a little smirk just on the edge of being a real smile, then adjusted the telescope back to where it was before. “Sleep well, Gale,” he said breezily as he turned to head back to his camp. “I’ll let you know if we find any tasty items while we’re out tomorrow.”

Gale puffed out a laugh, then shook his head as he went to pick up his book. Look at that, he was getting people skills. Well, vampire skills. He’d have to tell Tara about this when he got home.

Fictober 2023 Drabble Master Post

[shibazoid]

Chapter Five alternate dialogue

"I've spent a great deal of time navigating the city, so I've familiarized myself with the area, for the most part." He mumbled, sinking his hands into his coat pockets. "It's an essential skill back home. Getting lost can be a death sentence."

"Oh, right, in the woods. That makes sense." She looked a bit disappointed and began walking normally again. "You guys lived near the Gruwelbos, though, right? That must'a blown big time."

He assumed that she meant the experience was unpleasant. "What do you mean?" 

"The disappearances. You didn't know about that?"

"I…" Did the colony really kill so many people that it was noticeable? How was he supposed to respond without sounding suspicious? "No, not really. Again, we had very limited contact with the outside world."

"Right." She paused, chewed her straw thoughtfully, the end of which was now mangled and flat. "Was there like, a reason you guys never went outside?" 

"Too many members of our family have been lost to the outside."

"No shit? I've never actually met a person who lost somebody up there. So what, they just left and didn't come back? Or were they found dead?"

"A bit of both. I think our isolation truly began when my grandmother was found dead. After that, people would leave and we wouldn't go looking for them. None returned. My uncle and his daughter are two such individuals who haven't come back." He cleared his throat nervously, hoping it didn't sound terribly suspicious. "Granted, we suspect that my grandmother was killed by my grandfather."

"Nobody bothered to investigate?"

"He was in a position of authority and demanded she be cremated."

"I'm sorry, boss, that's rough." Her voice sounded warm and genuine. How she managed to make him feel safe by her voice alone was an enigma. "But nothing that couldn't be explained. Locals like to say the woods are cursed, as if there's not a billion ways to die and get lost up in the mountains. The only curse here is that the locals all got really poor-ass judgment."

"I've heard much about those woods in the past few days, but I still don't know what the superstition is."

"Grafstad's curse. Some legend from when the place was settled. I think it's just a load'a nonsense somebody made up to smear the Native population, but basically the colonists pissed off some tribe and then every night after that, giant creatures would come from the woods and eat people. Now when you go into those woods, you get killed by Night Giants or spirited away by ghosts." She laughed. "At least nobody's said it was aliens. Yet.:

"That's… absurd."

"Highly. My opinion, the reason people go missing is because almost everybody who goes up there is a conspiracy theorist or cryptozoologist or ghost hunter, and they don't prepare correctly, or go pokin' around the caves and get lost or eaten by bears. No curse needed, just hubris." That was a slightly refreshing perspective, at least, but it was certainly a good indication that he should keep his heritage to himself. Not that he'd intended to tell her, of course, but the possibility had been there. "For the record, I got the same opinion as the search-and-rescue guys and the cops on this one. People can be stupid and nobody wants to admit it, they gotta put the blame on some urban legend."

"You don't believe the creatures exist?"

"Hell no. I don't believe in bigfoot or the Loch Ness monster, either. Give me undeniable proof, then I'll concede." He sighed, both relieved and self-conscious. 

"That's reasonable. What is a Night Giant, if you don't mind my asking?"

"It changes depending on who you ask. Some people think they're shapeshifting Native American witches, and I've also heard they're vengeful ghosts or werewolves. The main thing is, they're like these massive twelve foot tall monsters that are hard to see in the dark and they eat people. People who've allegedly seen them think they look like bats."

"I see." His people didn't have a name for what they were, but humans gave them one. He wasn't sure how to process this information, and her subsequent silence was making him anxious. They'd walked another block before she spoke up again.

"Oh shit, I know where we are now!" Tolly announced abruptly, sounding amazed. "God, we should go to a maze when Halloween comes up, you'd breeze through it in no time at all." And then she hesitated and stuttered an amendment. "Ugh, sorry, I'm gettin' ahead'a myself. You must think I'm completely obnoxious for actin' like we're friends when we just met like, four days ago."

You can read the actual chapter here!

[high-fructose-dreamscape]

Day 9

So I made it to work. I barely slept. I’m tired. I’m bitter. But I’ve been dealing.

I’ve been listening and reading on quantum of solace. A quantum of solace is the minimum amount of compassion, affection, decency, etc from a human necessary to continue the relationship. When the quantum reaches zero then the relationship falls a part.

Collectively I can see that my quantum has reached zero. My relationships have fallen apart but now I see by no sheer fault of my own. My friends are just not friends. They aren’t there. They distanced themselves despite claiming to be there.

I can’t rely on them when it comes to matters like this.

I don’t know what to do now. I don’t know where to go or to turn. The need still festers to end it but the cold reality that nobody is here helps in a way.

I will never achieve anything soecial or go anywhere amazing. I will never be the talk of the town and on any of my friends’ mind. I will not be know but them.

But I will have to push on. As a temporary memory.

For now I will postpone my date but continue my plan. I still lack the quantum of solace to get by but I can manage knowing that today right now is not how I plan to go.

Now I must continue work. I fucked up the fryer. I let the oil solidify in the bottom again.

I have to plan my next move with this momentum or I’ll be stuck again

Seems I forgot to post this part. Hmm. Well to fill out my day it seems like I was left mostly alone so I guess my mind isn’t fully healed.

After a long shift and some drinks I do have a bone to pick with the world:

I dotn think I have much respect for many people now. After trying so hard to fight a silent battle, I don’t know who I can trust in my time of need.

I think that’s why I’m weird with trust. I don’t ask for this but I know I’m used to my waves. But when I’m bad, I have nobody for days like this. Nobody is emotionally available for my bad days and for my okay days, they seem so disconnected.

I guess my friends give me the same vibes as my mom and dad. I think since nobody takes me emotionally seriously I just reset angrier every time.

I don’t like it. I don’t wanna reset. I hate this feeling of constantly starting over.

Fucking Scarlett messaged me. About her trying to win Eddie. I’m so over it. I can’t even hold a convo without her fan girling over him.

It’s gross.

I also realized that I just can’t talk to my friends. I can’t be me around any of these fuckers. From the girl I last slept with to the first friends I made, nobody is there.

It’s isolating.

When I told Eddie that I wanted to take the long nap and planned for it, he just said “it’s okay. “

Like that’s it? That’s what I am to you? You don’t get that I literally have an active plan to kill myself? Like I actively am pursuing the idea of ending my own life and that’s as serious as you take me?

I’m a fucking joke to you guys I swear. My bad days I get it are bad and I take them in stride. But like I can’t come to people with this shit.

God forbid I try to talk to kinga about shit. She has to always emotionally one up me. I’m not allowed to be sad with her. It’s the worse. I would never wish anything upon her but still fuck it.

And Brock. Fuck Brock. He’s so self absorbed that he doesn’t realize that he causes more pain than pleasure with his friends. He makes a competition out of nothing.

It’s so hard to just be me. Be allowed to feel my feelings and process. I just wanna nap, cuddle, watch tv and create memories. Occasionally fuck too.

But like everyone is so fucking annoying and stupid. I hate it.

Crackheads to potheads. Dickheads to shit heads. It’s all too much. I just want something simple. I just want somethings normal and comfortable.

I don’t want a big spectacle but I do want something real.

I just wanna feel like I am moving in a. Good direction. A bae to message me telling me I do a good job and she’s proud of me. A little minx demon to call me hers and occasionally give me compliments. Something to give me motivations.

I’m tired of these solitary goals. I’m tired of appeasing my own self. After being this way I can make anything happen, but for someone else I wanna give her the world.

Nights like this I wonder what I’m working for. I guess as someone who can do it all, a jack of all/ master of none, all I want is someone to call babe. Someone to call me hun and ask for the world.

…..

Another night I get stopped by the police.

I hate this part.

Someone matching my description. Someone like me. I’ve been stopped, frisked, and told to move on like nothing happened too many times. I know it’s profiling but I’m used to it. I never talk about it. We don’t talk about our struggles. But I’m tired of always biting my lip. But I’ll do it again. Because I don’t wanna cause a scene.

Only when I’m alone am I my freest. I spent so much of my night trying to cheer up Derek from his bullshit and later Scarlett that I swear I deserve a medal. I try so hard to be the perfect friend because honestly my word is all I have left to be remembered by. But really what does it matter?

I want to so badly search for the meaning of life at the bottom of a bottle. Maybe I will. But his damn I work hard to stay poor.

I’ll never feel good enough. And my problem is that I do want the validation to know did a good job. I work so very hard that I can’t tell if I’m always overclocked or not.

Enough bitching. I wish to be in my element. Sword fighting. Cooking. Playing tour guide. These are things I like.

I love being your movie trivia person.

I love being your history person

I love being your samurai

I love being your chef

I love being your manager

I love being your story time friend

I love being your haven

I love being your anime nerd

I love being your calm

I love being your niche vibe

I love being your first person to show a new world to

I love being there for my buddies.

I love being your plus one.

I love being your casual shoulder

I love being your cheerleader

I love being there.

I wish more people took advantage of my positives and key traits. I wish people didn’t write me off so easily. I wish I was given a fair chance. I’m not in my element. I can��t make the stars shine in the light. My speciality comes with a full moon of a certain color. I’m niche. I’m different. I take time and energy but cultivate me and I’ll bloom like a fucking Forest. I wish I found the pond that saw my potential.

Some times I feel like I wasted everything I’m worth in those around me. As for they caught glimpses of a me that could’ve been. Of a part me.

I rarely get to be the great carp do they sea.

It almost brings me to tears.

I know nobody will ever read this.

I know my feelings will go forever deaf. Nobody will text me “I miss you” or “are you okay.” I get it but it’s still hard to swallow as a pill.

I will never see my group worth. I will never feel accepted at this rate because I’m so.. me.

I can’t even say I hope I will be missed because I feel like it dishonors the me of now.

All I can do is try.

I will break down.

I will be used and forgotten.

I will cry.

I will try to die.

I will hopefully fail.

So I hope I rest and try.

I will never get used to this sad cycle. I’m sorry.

I hope to one day, as toxic or not, be accepted as a good person.

This is why I don’t want anyone to know if I ever kill myself.

I don’t want to make a spectacle because I don’t want to do it for shock.

I don’t want to make a scene.

I want it to be a mental understanding. I want anyone to know that I did this because j chose It.

I know what I plan to do thought.

It’s gonna be rough but I have the plan. Im drunk enough to say:

Im gonna plot my headphones in, time myself down and suffocate myself.

It’s gonna be a day where nobody can save me. Which is easy because people take forever ti message me and everyone is too busy or away when I’m at my lowest.

I’m gonna do it away from everyone. Gonna hide all my trackers too.

Maybe when I so it people will stop thinking I’m shit. Maybe that’s what it takes to be taken seriously. Maybe then I’ll have the last say.

Maybe.

Or maybe I’ll just be another log on the fire.

It doesn’t matter. As long as I have a plan I can always leave. So maybe I wasn’t for to be around. Maybe I wasn’t actually meant to catch vibes. Or maybe I was just a stepping stone for those around me.

It’s hard to deny the call to the void. I don’t know if I’m just temporary or not. Usually I can hear a goal or purpose but for me, like this, I just hear the wind loudly.

As you see I’m still me. Craving hugs in a more subtle way.

I just don’t get it anymore. I don’t know what to do. I’m not enjoying anything and I’m just gonna avoid everyone until some thing breaks.

I can’t let them see me crack. I gotta be strong. I gotta try.

[cinnamonest]

Diluc Ragnvindr - Yandere Profile

Yall are so kind and I am so undeserving hhhhh

If you stand idly by that flower girl in Mondstadt her idle line is something like "All I can think about is Diluc" And honestly same

This man exudes bde I'm sorry I just... It is a known FACT that Diluc is packing and I refuse to believe otherwise, lord have mercy I'm bout to SIMP

tws: yandere, mentions of violence

tws (below cut): noncon, kinda misogynistic in 1 part

------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

Acutely aware, and in the beginning, frustrated with his own self. He's very much a loner type of guy, and he likes it that way -- in his mind, people are distractions.

He doesn't talk to you too much, but you'll slowly and subtly notice his presence with increasing frequency. He hovers. Silent, but intimidating. He's always there, in the background. Somehow, everywhere you go, you can spot him somewhere if you try, and even if you don't see him, you know someone is watching you, from the skin crawling feeling of eyes on you. It will never go away, and it's easily enough to drive you to paranoia.

In reality, he'd like to talk, really, but he doesn't know how. For the first time in his life, he actually has the urge to speak with someone, not for his own desire to speak so much as speak with you- to learn about you, to hear your voice. But the poor thing has no idea what to say. He's used to just going about his day and only speaking to others when they need something from him.

When he does talk to you, he finds himself even enjoying the silliest and most trivial of things you say. Normally he hates small talk, and he's normally annoyed by anything outside of very serious matters, but even if you're raving about something he has no interest in, he's happy to listen just because it's you.

He's fairly aware, too. Not a delusional for the most part, and he's honestly a bit afraid of rejection - he knows he's not the most pleasant or charming person to be around, and certainly not the best conversationalist. He tries to make up for it in thinking that his money, status, and protective ability can be something he can use to draw you in, so he makes sure to subtly and frequently remind you of those things.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Eventually, it's inevitable. It will happen, it's just a matter of time. His reasoning is less about your fragility and safety, even if he pretends it is, and more of a selfish thing. He doesn't want to be, and he'll certainly feel guilty for it, but he's a silently jealous person. Hearing you talk to others, seeing you smile at others, it drives him up the wall. Even during the day, he can't focus, thinking of what you're doing, who you're with, what you're doing with that person, and so on. He can't get anything accomplished, and people notice something is wrong with him. Really, it won't be a very long time at all.

He's not a very good manipulator, and he can't really think of a good reason to get you to walk into the winery backrooms on your own, so as barbaric as it may feel, he'll settle for the old fashioned way, just taking you, probably when you're walking all by yourself late at night. He is very intelligent, and will most likely formulate a way of making you seen responsible for some crime upon your disappearance, to discourage you from leaving, and to make it seem less mysterious when you disappear. People will assume that the darknight hero got to you. And, well, they’re not wrong.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

Initially, he's watchful, staying at the winery so that you can't get far without him noticing. He'll cancel his plans elsewhere and make sure he's never more than sight distance away from the building. With time, he'll have to leave, and when he does, he'll probably invest in some very high quality locks to keep you in. Should that prove to not be enough, he'll have to use chains to keep you attached to the wall, instead. Needless to say, it's difficult.

If you manage an attempt, he'll be angry, sure, but he understands why. The first time, at least. Don't push it. If you manage to keep trying, his sympathy for you will slowly erode with each successive attempt, and soon he'll run out of mercy, and decide maybe just forgiving you isn't enough, and you actually need to learn a lesson to prevent this from happening again.

"Again? You really... Really don't give up, do you. This is the fourth time now... You've really pushed it, you know, I've tried to be nice. If you're not gonna get that, I'll make you understand."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Canonically speaking, he's fairly good at predicting the actions of others. He's clever like that. However, he's not the best at reading faces. As far as lies go, he will detect it maybe 80% of the time, but you can probably get away with a bit - once he catches you doing it once, though, he'll suspect you from there on out, and be much less likely to buy your lies.

When it comes to manipulation, he's one of the ones where it's like, he kinda knows, and lets it happen anyway, if it's for the sake of you being happy with him. That, and he's just flat out weak to your smiles and begging for little things. He's got his limits, though, so you'd be wise to only use this sparingly and not push it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Protective to the maximum degree. Probably the worst of genshin boys.

Absolutely zero contact with the outside. No family, no friends, he might even go to the extent of faking your death to ensure there's not even anyone who will look for you.

Unlike Childe, Zhongli, or Albedo that I've mentioned as allowing you for walks or outside visits... That's not happening with Diluc. No, he's insanely protective, to the point that you very well might not see sunlight again, except through a window.

And he gets that it can get depressing, he really does, it's just the one thing he can't do. He'll try to substitute it, get you nice large windows to let the sun in that you can sit in front of - provided he's there - and maybe after a while build a little screened-in porch for the winery that you can walk around on - again, provided he's right there. You really can't expect him to let you out there when you're alone. What if someone saw you and tried to hurt you?

You get the feeling it's less about keeping anything else out, and more about keeping you in, though.

He's actually good about letting you do things for yourself, though. He won't restrain you from cooking or kitchen utensils or anything like that, unless you do something stupid like try to hurt him or yourself, in which case it'll be a revoked privilege.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Initially, he tries to go easy on rules, as part of his attempt to make you more accepting. He'll keep you more restrained for the first little while, and later on you'll be allowed to walk, but certain sections of the building will be off limits. He's fairly simple - be obedient, stay inside, don't try to fight. He'll invent new ones based on your behaviors as time goes on, but for the most part, he doesn't want to control you too much.

He fears getting too mad and making you scared of him, so, he struggles to punish you initially. He's probably willing to let quite a bit slide, but once he senses you're taking advantage of that, he'll put an end to it. Once again, he can thank the fact that he's naturally intimidating - he'll grab your jaw and force you to look at him, and honestly, just the look on his face is enough to send chills down your spine. If you're persistent, he's not able to leave you all alone and isolate you, no, he can't handle being away from you for that long. He'll appeal to the punishment of boredom, tying you to one spot and giving you nothing to entertain yourself with will get you to crack in a fairly short amount of time.

Humiliation works well, too. You're all alone except for him, you don't need clothes. So if you want them, you'll have to behave.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

This man only has to look at people to send them running. He's very grateful for his scowl once he realizes the power it holds. You'll be none the wiser as to why everyone you meet seems to end up avoiding you, why people get nervous when you approach, why you can walk into a public place and it will clear out within minutes of you walking through the door. It's ok, though, since you have him to go to for your problems. He'll shrug and tell you he doesn't know why it happens to you, but it's no big deal, you don't have to worry about it, because you don't need them anyway, right?

He's not above having chats with people either. If they're not driven off by the glares, he'll give them another chance by spelling out very clearly that they should back off.

With persistent offenders, though, he has to come up with other means. He's not a delusional, and he knows deep down that this is selfish, that they're not really doing anything wrong per se, but his anger is violent and ultimately overrides any guilt. He'll find a way to make them out to be criminals, spies, or some other form of bad person, and they'll meet their fate at the hands of Mondstadt's mysterious nighttime vigilante.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

His default personality is... Irritated. He scowls a lot, he gets exasperated easy - even if he tries to be a bit more pleasant for you. His irritation is so common that seeing genuine anger is a bit rarer.

When he does, though, it's one of the worst. To really, really make him mad, you'd have to be exceptionally, intentionally bratty to the point of antagonism - he's understanding and lucid enough to understand why you fight him, why you try to run, but do it over and over relentlessly, or just be a childish brat and ignore his warnings, and he'll snap. His voice bellows when he's mad, it's deep and terrifying and echoes off the walls, his eyes narrow and he stomps heavily with every step. He'll grab you by the arm hard enough to bruise, and if you refuse to follow and dig your heels in, he'll just roughly swing you onto his shoulder and carry you.

He has to exert the anger in some way, though. He's not like some yanderes that can be talked down or calmed, or are going to go easy on you if you apologize and beg. Once the anger is there, it's there until he physically takes it out in some way.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

It depends, really, because he's highly lucid, so he has very little delusions about you. Unlike many of the others, he's willing to acknowledge your mental competence, and if you're intelligent and have life experience he'll acknowledge it. He won't recognize physical capability, though, since you're nothing compared to his strength. If you are a capable, independent person, he won't delude himself into thinking otherwise. It will, however, have a negative effect, probably the opposite of what you hope for - he's going to feel a bit intimidated by it, really, because if you're capable and independent, you don't need him as much. He's more likely to find ways to force your dependency on him, if so, but deep down he knows you're an equal on a mental level, and it's frustrating.

Now, otherwise - if you're a little more on the ditzy, airheaded side - it will be below. He's realistic, again, and if you genuinely do fall into the category of being naive and a bit dumb, he'll recognize it. He feels more secure in your dependency, and he's more likely to baby you this way, and will absolutely be more protective.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He really wants you to. He's not sure if he deserves it, though. He's acutely, painfully aware of how awful the things he's done are, and to top it all off, he knows that he should wish he was a better man that had self control, yet... He doesn't. He can't lie to himself and pretend to even have a shred of regret, even if he feels guilt. If he hadn't done all those things, you wouldn't be here with him like this, and even though he knows it's selfish, so very, very selfish, knowing that the horrible things he did got him the result he wanted makes it worth it. And given the opportunity to go back, he'd do it again.

He wants you to genuinely love him, and even though he struggles with human affection and communication, he'll try his best to be sweet to you, say nice things, try to be less irritable, try to talk more.

But if dependency, isolation-induced attachment love is the best he can get, well, that's still love.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

He likes to just... Spend time in your presence. He's still ultimately not much for talking, he runs out of things to say very quickly and even if you're not talking, he's very very happy to be around you. If you're being cold towards him even, he wants to just sit there and be beside you, if you get up and sit on the other side of the room, or walk to another room (provided you have the privilege to do so), he'll follow you wherever like a little lost puppy and just silently sit right back down next to you again. He soaks in your presence like sunlight, it makes him happy.

If you show him affection, especially after an abduction or when stockholm syndrome starts to set in, it's one of the few times you'll see him smile. His smile is soft and faint, and it's less his mouth so much as his eyes that seem to light up. If you show him affection, you can eventually reach a very vulnerable, very soft side of him. He keeps up walls for everyone else, and he kind of desperately wants someone he doesn't have to do that with, so he'll crumble to your affection fairly quickly, once he's assured of your love.

Also, he's one of the ones who fully understands why you're mad. He gets it, he's lucid, and he honestly knows how awful what he's doing is. He still hopes you'll get over it, though, and if confinement and isolation except for him is what it takes to achieve that... So be it. Rather than justifying his actions, he acknowledges what he's done, but he's aware that psychologically, he's already long past the point of no return, and he can't bring himself to stop.

“I know this wasn’t... what you wanted, and, I know it’s, I know this was really, really bad, but I only did it for your sake. If you just... try to get used to it... maybe you can be happy, if you try.”

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

High, but embarrassed as all hell. He likes to maintain a very respectable and serious image, and people knowing that behind that neutral poker face is a brain running through nasty, nasty fantasies would not be very conductive to that image.

And that's what he does - working the bar gets very, very slow sometimes, and there's not much to do but sit around and let his mind wander. The more bored he gets, the more involved in these fantasies he becomes, and sometimes you might have to tap him on the shoulder to snap him out of it.

He feels guilty, really, for how he feels about you, and he knows that it's wrong and violating... But. But if you don't know, it won't hurt you, now will it? Nothing about the fact that he just thinks about bending you over the bar tables and fucking you raw is going to actually do anything bad. It's harmless.

He won't be touchy or perverse towards you by any means, and while that's nice, it causes something of a... Buildup. A lot of urges and needs have gone unmet, a lot of desperation to just feel you skin that has never been filled, and the thing about buildups is that when you reach a certain point they'll eventually burst, which is going to be what happens once you're in your new home.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He's moderate. He'd like you to want it, he's not highly sadistic and doesn't get off to your struggling/crying the way Childe or Kaeya would. But, in the end he's very set on what he wants, and if you're not open to it, he's not going to wait long. As aforementioned, he's got a lot of pent-up need that has gone unchecked, and while he normally strives for self control, at the point of kidnapping you, he's built up enough sexual frustration that he's not going to be very patient. Again, he's not going to be mean about it, he's more the type to just kiss your forehead and mutter a few reassuring things, even as you hiss at the pain of being impaled. That's another issue - he's convinced you might just be intimidated by the size, so he'll keep reassuring you that it's not going to last long, your body just needs time to adjust, even though you feel like you're being split in two.

He's content with knowing that, even if you mentally aren't wanting it, your bodily reactions show that you're clearly not repulsed or anything.

He's also another one to use that very thing against you, much like Albedo. He can feel you twitch and clamp down when you're close and he'll tell you that if you love him you'll cum, and if you don't love him, you won't. But no amount of trying to bring yourself down is enough to override the overwhelming stimulation.

He's also one to get rougher/more intense with time. At first, he's a bit afraid of hurting you, and he's not entirely familiar with how this all goes, and even can be a bit prudish and reserved. But the more he fucks you, the more and more he realizes he really likes having a sense of control and dominance over you, and just how nice it feels to come home when he's frustrated from a bad day and just fuck that energy out. Once he realizes you're not going to break or anything, you'll notice him gradually getting rougher and harder with time, until it becomes a norm.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Stomach bulging/size kink

He's not normally an outwardly prideful person. His pride is more of a silent aloof type of pride, rather than a smug showoff type. He's not one to emphasize his positive traits just to look good. But, fuck, if there isn't something very, very pleasing about being able to physically see his dick making a bulge on your stomach every time he fucks into you. He'll make sure you don't close your eyes, grab your hair and pull your head down so you're forced to watch it fill you more than you can take, over and over.

He doesn't want to hurt you, really, but of all the things to whimper about, you just had to squeal that it's too big, that it hits your cervix, that it's splitting you apart, and as much as he really wants to be a good guy, you're really making it difficult. Hearing that just breaks something primal in him and makes him want to fuck you harder.

It's one of the few things he can actually get smug about, watching you clutch your gut and whimper from bruising and soreness even long after, and as time goes on he might lose enough shame about it all to make a smug comment. He knows he should feel bad. But again, you make it hard to.

Breeding

It's a possession thing, really. There's something so utterly satisfying about just watching cum drip out of you, listening to you whimper whenever you feel it filling you up. It's kind of cute, when he tells you he'll cum inside you and you panic, you squeal and wriggle and unintentionally clench down hard enough to make that happen, you practically just milk the cum out of him when you do.

Forced feminization?/housewife kink/I dont know what to call it but hear me out dammit

He has in his brain this idea of a perfect little housewife and you're going to fit that model whether you want to or not. When he breaks into goes back to your old apartment to bring clothes for your new home he'll only pick the most frilly, feminine of all the things you owned, and if you don't have too many, he'll buy ones for you.

He just likes the idea of having a nice, sweet little wife to come back to, especially after being so stressed with whatever bullshit he's had to put up with that day. Really, any darling in captivity is kinda sorta filling that role, but he's got a very specific image in his mind of you being very... Domestic. Submissive. Frilly little clothes and aprons and cleaning things and making food, it's very cute and gives him a weird sense of dominance that will inevitably turn to arousal - something about the whole ownership and submission aspect of seeing you walk around in those clothes, doing your little chores makes him really want to grab you and bend you over the nearest surface and just - well, you get the idea.

And he's not gonna listen to your whining, either, even if you're a naturally tomboyish person. You could have been the roughest adventurer there was out there, all ragged and getting covered in scrapes and climbing mountains and fighting monsters, but that's in the past, now. Now, is time for you to give that lifestyle up, in favor of a better one, one that will make you happier... if you just let it. 

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

He's yes and no, but mostly yes in theory. It fits into his little housewife fantasy and he feels it would be a good way to keep you attached to him. It would make you less likely to leave, it would give you something to do all day, you'd be happy. He's a bit worried about his own capabilities, though. He's not super empathetic and he's not very talkative. Ultimately, it would probably end up an accident that results from the aforementioned breeding kink.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Another one kind of like Razor, he's not gonna think it out too much, but holy fuck, if he's mad, just fucking feels like a punishment in and of itself. You'll realize just how much he's holding back on the regular when you see what it's like when he hold nothing back. It's bruising, it's brutal, and it's a little frightening to witness that kind of raw strength. He'd be one to pick you up into the air completely, holding your whole body up with his arms, forcing you to cling to him so as to not fall while he bounces you up and down on him. And really, once you account for the affect of gravity, so it's slamming into you at unprecedented force, and fuck, it's likely horribly painful, even if that pleasure is still there.

If he's exceptionally mad, he's another one willing to belt you, and while he'll certainly get off to it, it's something he'll only do when he genuinely has a reason to punish you.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Thighs. He likes hooking them over his shoulders, grabbing the fleshy soft parts with his hands, running his hands up and down the sides. One day, one you're comfortable enough, he'd really like to just lay his head down on them like a pillow, they look so soft. And he loves looking at them too, loves things that show just enough of the curve of your hips to your legs and the soft skin underneath.

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 6

You continue the tale of how you, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter became known as The Marauders.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2    CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

___________________________________________________________

Ch 6 .:The Making of the Marauders:.

~Previously~

“That was when they were first starting to put the map together,” you continued, “but that wasn't even the biggest secret they had. Of course, I wouldn't find out about that for another year. . .”

“So at this point I knew that they were hiding something else, but not what it was,” you told Harry, continuing on with your story, “But one night we had planned to meet up and use the invisibility cloak to map out the underground tunnels that ran through the storage cellars, and they never showed up. So I snuck into the Gryffindor common room through the secret passage and found their dorm completely empty. But what was there was our work in progress map. . .”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1975  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This isn't going to work,” Peter said flatly, watching James and Sirius draw a large circle in chalk on the floor of the Shrieking Shack.

“Not with that attitude it's not,” James said, “if there's a way we can speed up this process I'm willing to give it a go. I don't know how long I can go on with this bloody leaf in my mouth.”

“Is this even real?” Peter sighed, “it looks like what muggles think magic is.”

“It's real all right,” Sirius said, “old, but real. I mean, Transfiguration was founded on the principles of magic circles! I'm not really sure what these runes on the side mean, but it's probably not important.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Peter retorted, “Remus, back me up here.”

He turned towards Lupin, but he had long since dozed off, arms crossed as he leaned against one of the nearly decaying walls in the corner. Peter sighed, taking a piece of paper from the ground and crumpling it into a ball before promptly throwing it in the sleeping boy's face. Lupin jolted awake, realizing what had happened and chucking the paper back at Peter in annoyance.

“Not a moment of peace,” he huffed under his breath.

“Sounds awfully boring,” James said over his shoulder.

“Blimey, what time is it?” Remus said, panicked as he noticed the light had completely gone from the sky, “It's long past sundown.”

“So?” Sirius shrugged.

“So, we told (Y/n) we'd meet them to work on the map at dusk,” Remus said, “They're probably looking for us right now!”

“Oh, they are,” you announced your presence, an unimpressed look on your face as they jumped, whipping around to look at you.

“(Y-Y/n)!” Sirius stuttered, “how did you—”

You held up the map, raising a brow at the four guilty looking boys.

“Right. . .”

“You snuck into our rooms?!” James said incredulously as he saw the map, which he was sure he had left on his bedside table, in your hands.

“You've snuck into my shower before, Potter,” you glared lightly at him.

“Point taken.”

“Okay, look, I'm sorry we didn't show tonight, and I know we've been acting weird,” Sirius sighed, “the truth is—”

“Lupin's a werewolf.” 

The color drained from Remus' face, slightly mortified that you already knew.

“Come on, guys,” you said, “the claw marks and you lot disappearing whenever there's a full moon kind of gave it away. You aren't exactly subtle about it.”

You could sense the intense nervousness in the room, especially from Remus. Ok, so maybe coming right out with it wasn't the best course of action.

“Look,” you said, “if you're worried about anyone else finding out, they won't. I mean, the only reason I even knew you were here is because I'm literally helping you make a magical map that details all the secret passages and shows where everyone is. I won't tell anyone, I swear.”

They still seemed a little unsure, and you bit the inside of your lip slightly.

“If it'll make us even, I'll let you know a secret of my own,” you said, “it can even be future blackmail me if you really don't trust me.”

“No, it's not that, (Y/n),” Remus said as he stepped forward, his throat feeling dry, “it's just, well, I've never really told anyone except the people in this room. Having someone else know. . . it's just a lot to process, but if had to be anyone I'm glad it's you.” He paused for a moment, feeling oddly self-conscious as he regarded you. “When I turn into a werewolf I can't recognize any human as someone I know. I have no control over myself in that state. In the worst case scenario, I could injure or even kill someone I didn't mean to. We originally started taking note of the secret passages and rooms to find a place where I could turn safely and not hurt anyone, and we settled on here. I don't remember much when I come out of it, but. . . I do feel this painful sense of separation each time. Werewolves are pack creatures by nature, so being isolated in that state is. . . agony, if I must be honest. They all figured, I can't recognize humans, but perhaps I could recognize other animals, so. . .”

“They're trying to become animagi,” you finished, “so you won't have to be alone. That's. . . that's actually really sweet,” you said, a breathy laugh escaping you.

Remus thanked Merlin the Shrieking Shack was as dimly lit as it was so his beet red face was at least somewhat less noticeable.

“I agree,” Remus said, turning to his friends and sharing a rare, genuine moment with them. “And, you don't have to tell us your secret,” he said, turning back to you, “it's okay.”

“Hey, I wanted to know,” Sirius said, Peter swiftly elbowing him in the ribs.

“I was actually planning on telling you anyways,” you said, “If you guys are trying to become animagi, I can help you.”

You took a few steps back, bracing yourself against the wall.

“Promise me you won't freak out.”

After receiving a few quick nods, you kicked off the wall. Your body seemed to morph in mid-air, shrinking and re-configuring so fast that by the time you landed on the floor you had been entirely replaced by a large, (e/c)-eyed wolf with fur reminiscent of your hair.

Peter yelped, instinctively putting Sirius in front of him who was gawking at the sight. Remus was in complete shock and you could have sworn you saw James' glasses slip down his face.

In your animal form your heightened senses could sense their fear, and you tried your best to assuage it. You padded around in a circle, sitting down and blinking up at them to try and show them you were in control of your actions. After you figured they'd seen enough, you crawled back into your robes, which had pooled on the floor when you'd transfigured, and willed your body to turn back.

James, Sirius, and Peter looked somewhere in the intersection of shocked and terrified, but Remus looked nothing less than impressed.

“That's amazing, (Y/n),” he said breathlessly, “your transformation was seamless, how long have you had this ability?”

“My aunt had me go through the process when I was nine,” you said, a bitter edge to your voice as you fastened your clothes back around you, “it's not fun, but obviously useful. And thank you, but trust me, it didn't come at all naturally to me. I spent a good part of my winter break stuck with a wolf's hind legs, which is just as inconvenient as it sounds.”

“But this proves that it's possible!” James said, a new rush of energy invigorating him, “we can actually pull this off.”

“If I can manage to keep this sodding leaf from choking me every ten minutes,” Peter grumbled.

“Here, this should help with that,” you said, drawing your wand and pointing it at Peter's mouth. With a simple sticking charm, he suddenly felt the odd sensation of the leaf in his mouth disappearing, only to find it had melded with the flesh on the underside of his tongue.

“It's a long process, but yes, it's possible,” you said to James. Your eyes drifted to the floor where the magic circle and pages of runes were still scattered about, “if you were thinking of taking shortcuts, you might have wanted to read the warning about this spell requiring a blood sacrifice.”

The quartet paled and you laughed at their dumbstruck expressions.

“Kidding,” you grinned, “but seriously, there's no shortcuts. Now look alive, boys. We have a lot of work to do.”

_________________________________________________________

From then on, you helped the four wizards along on their quest to become fully fledged shifters.

“In order to become an animagus, a wizard must keep a Mandrake leaf in their mouth for an entire month, even when eating and sleeping,” Peter read aloud from the book they'd snatched from the restricted section, “Next, under a full moon, the wizard must place the leaf in a vial full of dew that has neither been stepped on nor exposed to the sun. The resulting potion must be stored in a dark place, and the following incantation: Amato Animo Animato Animagus, must be recited every morning until an electrical storm arrives, at which point the potion can be taken.”

“Blimey, all that to turn into a bloody cat?” Sirius said, exasperated.

“Well we have the first part almost done,” James said, feeling the faintest outline of the leaf still under his tongue, “Next full moon we'll have to go dew-hunting, I suppose. Looks like you'll have to stick it out for a few more cycles, Moony,” he said to Remus.

“That's alright,” he said, “I've made it this far.”

“He won't be alone for those,” you said, “I'll spend the full moons with him until you guys are ready.”

“What?” James said, looking at you like you'd just told him you were off to join Voldemort, “not a chance, that's way too dangerous.”

“Aw, don't act like you're all concerned about me all of a sudden, Potter,” you smirked. When his expression didn't change it took you aback slightly. He was actually worried about you. “Look, I'm probably the best suited for it anyways,” you said, coughing a bit to coast through the awkward tension, “Remus and I are both wolves, or at least partly. If one of you end up turning into a sheep or something you might be dead meat, not to freak you out or anything.”

“That's reassuring,” Sirius said under his breath.

____________________________________________________________

“You really don't have to do this,” Lupin insisted as you sat on the floor together in the Shrieking Shack later that month.

“I want to,” you assured him, “take it as a thanks for helping me pass Arithmancy. Besides, it's a perfectly fine excuse for me to practice interacting with other animals in my animagus form.”

The boy beside you was quiet for a moment, shoulders tense and jaw set tight. It wasn't that he wasn't happy you were here, he was more grateful than you could know, but he was terrified that he was going to end up hurting you. On top of that was the fact that he didn't want you to see him as he transformed. It wasn't pretty, and it was visibly painful. He didn't want you to think any lower of him, though he knew that fear was irrational.

The calming jazz record that spun on the other side of the room was the only noise between you two for quite some time, but you understood that he needed time to gather his thoughts. This was something so deeply personal you were surprised and a bit honored he allowed you to be here at all. You noticed the photograph that he held in his hands; it was of Hogwarts, taken from the very edge of the forest. The sun was peeking over the horizon, spilling out between the complexly constructed towers that made up the castle's exterior, and casting a warm, golden hue over the landscape.

“It's beautiful,” you said, “the picture.”

“It is,” Remus smiled to himself and nodded, “James gave it to me, as a reminder. He said that matter what happens during the full moon, the sun will always rise on us again.”

“Huh,” you mused softly, “perhaps he isn't such an insufferable jerk after all.”

“Oh, no, he is,” Lupin chuckled, “but he is also a very good friend, and endlessly thoughtful even if he denies it.”

You let that sink in for a moment. You supposed he was.

“Well,” you said, laughing a bit as you shifted in your seat, “this isn't as deep and meaningful as the photo, but I brought something for you.” You reached into your bag, retrieving something that made Remus' eyes widen.

“Where did you get that?” he said, elated as you held out his favorite chocolate bar which had been out of stock at Hogsmeade for weeks now.

“You guys have a secret tunnel that goes right to the Honeydukes cellar and you've never taken advantage of their storage?” you grinned.

Lupin hesitated as he held the bar in his hands.

“So you stole it?”

“I left five dracma in the tip jar,” you rolled your eyes, “I'm not a death eater.”

His smiled returned at that, and he ripped open the familiar foil gratefully.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“It's the least I could do,” you said.

“It's really not,” he said, turning to face you fully. You were left a bit breathless as the unexpected intensity of his eyes. “None of this is the least you could do, because the least you could do is nothing,” he continued, rambling, “we were so horrible to someone you consider a dear friend, and you were willing to look past that. You're risking your life by even being with me right now, (Y/n).”

“You don't—”

“I do know that,” Remus said sharply, “I've never been in contact with anyone as a werewolf. The one time I was, I. . .” he trailed off, and it hurt you to see his pained expression, “I just don't know how I'll react.”

“You're saying that as if something bad's already happened,” you said gently, “it'll be okay.”

“How can you be so sure?” he asked quietly, equally full of frustration and admiration.

“I'm willing to put my trust in you, Remus. I think it's time you put some trust in yourself.”

Lupin's heart pounded a little harder in his chest. Had you ever called him by his first name before? You looked at him so reassuringly, so confidently. He couldn't understand it, but your words reached him to his core.

“(Y/n). . .” he trailed off, blinking rapidly. A shaky breath escaped him, and your stomach dropped.

“Remus?”

Suddenly you saw something shift in him. His breathing became heavy and his pupils dilated, completely filling his irises in a matter of seconds. He braced himself against the wall as he stumbled to his feet, his skin slowly taking on a gray hue.

“It's happening,” he said, voice deeper and strained, his neck convulsing, “you have to transform, now!”

You didn't waste any time, taking the shape of your wolf form and padding away a cautionary distance. Your stomach churned as you watched Remus yell out, his expression full of pain as his body grew in size, his cries slowly becoming reminiscent of howls. His face contorted in agony as his head morphed into a more animalistic shape, ears growing from his scalp and fur appearing as if his werewolf was fully formed inside him, physically escaping through his skin. You've seen werewolves before, but seeing someone you know actually turn into one, it was completely different. Nothing could have prepared you for this. Seeing anyone in this much pain made your chest tighten harshly.

At last it seemed the transformation was complete. Remus Lupin was gone, and in front of you stood a creature of at least eight feet, perched on his hind legs and towering over you especially in your animal form. You could hear how ragged his breathing had become, his body convulsing with the motion; growing and retracting like a beating heart. You heard a whimper escape his throat, and you could tell he was still recovering from the pain.

You steeled yourself, making the decision to alert him to your presence subtly. You tilted your head upwards, releasing a similar sounding whimper to his. Immediately the werewolf across from you was on high alert, his head snapping towards you and his lips pulling back into a snarl as his ears lowered. You took an instinctive step back, lowering your head slowly. He seemed puzzled by your behavior, which made sense seeing as Lupin told you he never interacted with any other animals during the full moon. His head tilted inquisitively and he took a heavy step forward. You forced yourself to not back away, testing the waters. His eyes narrowed again as he saw you standing your ground, but you quickly sat down, your head tilting to expose your neck slightly. You made doubly sure not to show any signs of aggression; you knew you had no chance against a werewolf at full strength.

However, he seemed to take your queues well. His tail seemed to relax a bit, his eyes returning to their full, round shape as he looked at you with curiosity. You sniffed up at him and he hesitated, but eventually circled around you and did the same. You could almost see the turmoil in him, as a werewolf you doubted anyone he came across treated him with anything less than terror in their eyes, but you were completely relaxed.

He whimpered again, and you were shocked at the sign of submission. You rose to your feet, and he didn't back away. You let out a friendly yip, which he returned, and you felt the weight lift off your chest. You leaped to the side, and he followed you, running alongside you as you bounded across the room, practically leaping off the walls. You jumped at each other playfully, rolling across the floor in a mess of fur. You smiled inwardly as this continued throughout the night, no longer seeing fear or pain or aggression in his eyes when you looked into them. Even if he wouldn't remember most of this, you hoped he would at least feel better in the morning than all the times he had to go through it alone.

Exhausted from all the playing around, you padded softly back to your robes, crawling inside yours and and gesturing over to him with your head. He followed you, coming down to all fours before laying beside you. You weren't sure when sleep came over you, but it was like the world's most comfortable blanket had been thrown over your shoulders, and your eyes drifted closed of their own volition. . .

“Merlin's beard, just what were you two doing last night?!”

You and Remus both jolted awake at the sound of James Potter's aggravatingly loud voice but quickly came to your senses. Remus' arms were wrapped around you, your back facing him. You were just barely covered by your robes with nothing underneath as a result of your transformation. As you scrambled to get decent your face heated even more as you saw Remus was currently without a shirt, his pants ripped considerably. You scrambled away from each other, trying to make yourselves decent.

Peter was howling with laughter, James looking smug as ever. Sirius was oddly quiet, but you were too wrapped up in the embarrassment to notice his behavior.

“What was that about being 'endlessly thoughtful'?” you grumbled to Remus.

“Right, I completely take back what I said,” he scoffed, “ 'insufferable jerk' is much more accurate.”

“Close your eyes, you perverted git!” you yelled at James, who was blatantly staring at you, “toss me my clothes at least, would you?”

James bit back a smirk as he grabbed your bag that was sitting in the corner of the room— clothes you had brought with the intention of changing into after returning to your human form when Lupin fell asleep. He tossed it over to you and you began to change under your robes. As his back was turned to you his mind began to wander. You'd always been attractive, sure, but since you'd always been his rival he hadn't really given you a second thought, especially when he'd been trying to get Lily's attention for ages. But just now, thinking about how downright adorable you looked when you'd yelled at him, something in him shifted. He shook it off quickly, turning to Lupin with a grin he'd managed to put on concernedly fast.

“You cheeky bastard,” he said to Remus, who was furiously changing into a new shirt, “you just wanted her alone, didn't you? Do you really need us to become animagi after all?”

“You're the worst, Potter,” the werewolf glared at him.

“Don't listen to him, Remus,” you grumbled, straightening out your tie as you slipped it on over your shirt, “he's an even bigger idiot than he looks.”

“Are you implying I look stupid?”

“Implying may not be a strong enough word.”

__________________________________________________________

It had taken months of brewing the potion and getting all the necessary preparations in order, but they were finally ready. Remus sat with you in the grass, wand at the ready to undo any untoward transfiguration that happened on accident. Peter, Sirius, and James stood across from you, standing at the edge of a stone ledge about five feet off the ground. You'd said that a leap of faith is what would best trigger their first transformation. They looked nervous, but they were prepared as they'd ever be. Over the last year you had grown considerably closer to the four boys you had miraculously come to know as friends.

“Remember, focus on your emotions,” you said, “you need to pick a strong one, let it fill your body and flow through you. If you block the magic off from any part of your body, it's not going to be pretty.”

“Right, but how do I—”

“James, I swear, I'm really rooting for you to be a mute animal.”

“But how do you choose-”

“Just do it already!”

“Oh, sod it,” James squeezed his eyes shut, not giving himself time to second guess before jumping off the ledge. For a moment he was certain he was about to land face first in the dirt, but then it happened— a moment where time seemed to freeze and his body felt completely weightless. He felt this sensation where his arms and legs vibrated with an intense, foreign energy. Images flashed through his mind in that brief moment in the air; Sirius manically laughing as they ran away from Filch, Remus snapping off a piece of chocolate to offer him after he'd lost Gryffindor a Quidditch match, and, unexpectedly, you. A feeling of warmth spread through his chest, and he grasped onto it, letting it flow through his body like you said. In an instant he felt torso shift, his shoulders narrow, his neck elongate; and when he landed on the ground he still landed face-first as he predicted, but in a completely different form.

He could see you and Lupin in front of him, mouths agape. He was about to say something when he found his vocal chords only allowed him a gruff whine. Shocked, he lifted his head, which felt much heavier than he'd last recalled, and as he looked down at himself he was taken aback to be met with a pair of hooves right beneath him. He staggered to his feet on wobbly legs, of which he now had four. As he tilted his head he could see the shadow of a pair of antlers twisting into brilliant shadows on the grass.

“Potter, you did it!” you exclaimed, “you actually did it!”

“Well how about that,” Remus chuckled, “a stag.”

“It fits him, I think,” you grinned, looking over at Sirius and Peter who looked determined and terrified respectively. “Well go on, it's your turn now!”

Sirius braced himself for the jump, but somehow he found no fear in his system. After seeing James shift in the air right before his eyes, he knew he could do it. He looked over at Peter who was nearly shaking.

“Come on, Peter,” he said, “we'll go together.”

“I-I don't know about this, Sirius,” Peter said, “I'm not ready, I don't think I can do this.”

“It's just a little jump,” Sirius said encouragingly, “you can do this.”

After a few nerve wracking deep breaths Peter gave him the smallest nod one could manage.

“We'll go on three,” Sirius said, “Ready? One—”

“AaHH!”

Sirius shoved Peter off the ledge, knowing he wouldn't jump on his own, before taking the plunge himself. Peter's screams became higher and higher pitched as he shrank at an alarming speed, almost an undetectable size by the time he hit the grass. A small brown rat scurried across the field towards you and Lupin.

The stag in front of you made a sound, dragging his hooves across the grass in what you could imagine as James' unadulterated laughter at his friend.

Sirius began to morph almost as soon as he left the ground, something you were surprised by. He landed on his hind legs, landing gracefully as his front two followed, and a shaggy black dog looked back at you with mischief in its eyes.

You couldn't help but go over and pet him. You laughed as he nudged you with his nose, a resistance that was quickly halted as soon as you started scratching him behind the ears.

“I have to say, I didn't think you would actually manage that on your first try,” you said, secretly prouder than they could have known, “but if anyone could have done it, it's you three stubborn goons.”

James huffed as he saw you continue to pet Sirius, using his antlers to prod the dog out of the way. Sirius barked, lunging at him playfully. It was quite a scene to see the two interact.

“Honestly, this is a pretty solid group,” you said, “you've got James who blends perfectly with the surrounding wildlife so he wouldn't be suspicions, Sirius who could probably do a fair bit of damage as a dog if he needed, and Peter who can fit through small spaces and snoop around the castle virtually undetected.”

“Quite an odd pack,” Remus chuckled.

“Definitely,” you agreed, “but a pack nonetheless.”

And that very week, Remus Lupin was able to spend his first night as a werewolf with his four friends by his side.

__________________________________________________________

“So, how did we choose which animals we turn into?” James had asked you the next day at breakfast, “I specifically tried for a dragon.”

“You don't get to choose,” you rolled your eyes, “You're a stag, that's the end of it. It's pretty much up to chance.”

“I'm sorry, you're telling me I could have turned into a fish and died right there on the ground?!”

“If only,” you sighed dreamily, earning you a playful shove from James. “Alright, it's not completely random, but you're definitely in the unknown the first time you turn,” you went on to explain, “and once you turn for the first time, that's it. That's your animal. A wizard takes on the animagus form of whatever animal most closely resembles their personality. So, a horny bastard for James, a loyal little puppy for Sirius—”

“A bitch for you,” Sirius quipped.

“Never heard that one before,” you scoffed, purposefully messing up his hair.

“Hey, watch it!” he shoved you off him, twisting each of his curls back into form.

“Well, look who's a high maintenance pup,” you chuckled.

Around the same time that year, you finally completed the map. It came together beautifully, each different way of folding the paper revealing a different level of the castle for easy navigation. You'd included the surrounding forests as well as the parts of Hogsmeade that applied for the secret passageways, all of which were marked with symbols and the unique names you'd all come up with. Every student and staff member at Hogwarts had a tiny scroll with their name that appeared in their location. Remus had added the nice detail of including footprints at the last second, so you could see which way they were facing and walking as well. It was fireproof, rip proof, and prone to insulting anyone else who tried to read it. It was the pinnacle of your magical (and slightly illegal) achievement.

“We should write our names on it,” James said, looking down proudly at the finished map, “it belongs to us, after all. We don't want anyone else taking the credit.”

“Yeah, fantastic way to get caught,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “what if Filch comes across it? That's like leaving your signature at a murder scene.”

“You should use code names, then,” you suggested, “I know you guys call Remus 'Moony' as a joke, but I kind of like it.”

The scarred boy blushed lightly at the compliment, a brow raised to his other three friends.

“Alright then, I guess you should all say hi to Rudolph over here,” Sirius said, jutting his thumb in James' direction. The bespectacled boy narrowed his eyes before shooting back.

“Right! And this is my good friend, Snuffles.”

Sirius lunged at him and James swatted him away in laughter.

“Come on, you two,” Remus said, “or we won't put anything down for you at all.”

“I've got an idea for Peter,” you piped in, “When my mom used to garden she said she didn't mind having rats there because their tails resembled worms, which were an old a sign of healthy soil, I know it's odd, but I think Wormtail sounds pretty cool.”

Peter seemed to perk up at your acknowledgment and nodded. It suited him somehow.

“Should we pick animal features too, then?” James mused, “I guess Antlers doesn't really sound that cool. What's another word? Horns? Give me some analogies, guys. What else do they look like?”

“Yours honestly kind of look like a couple of bent forks,” you snickered.

“Prongs?” Sirius snorted, the laughter that followed nearly splitting his sides.

“Oh, go on, what have you got then?” James scoffed.

“I was thinking Padfoot,” Sirius said, “like a dog's paw prints.”

“You know, for someone who was just making fun of code names a second ago you sure have given a lot of thought to yours,” you teased.

“Shove it,” he smirked, “What about you? Can't very well have a second Moony.”

You stared at him in momentary disbelief.

“Me?”

“Well, yeah,” Sirius chuckled.

“We couldn't have done any of this without you,” Remus reminded you with a smile.

“I think you've more than earned an honorary title as one of us,” James said.

“That is, if you want to,” Peter said timidly.

You looked at the four of them, genuinely touched.

“I. . . I don't know what to say,” you smiled.

“You could say 'yes',” James piped up.

“Alright, you loons,” you laughed, “if you leave Severus alone for good, then yes.”

“Hey, I think we've been pretty good about that lately,” James pouted.

“Yes you have,” you admitted, “It's the only reason I bothered to give you the time of day, but this time it's a promise.”

James rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was undeniable. He'd never admit it out loud, but being friends with you was more fun than messing with Snape ever was.

“Alright, fine. (Y/n) (L/n), I solemnly swear that I will leave tormenting our dear old friend Snivelus behind us forever,” he said dramatically, putting a hand up at his pledge.

“Oh, bother,” you laughed, “the only thing you'll 'solemnly swear' to is that you're up to no good.”

“I'll take that as a compliment.”

“Then that's settled,” Remus smiled, “you'll need a code name too.”

“Let's see,” Sirius hummed in thought, “What other defining features do wolves have besides. . . well, their. . . fangs?”

“They're canines, you numbnut,” you huffed.

“Close enough, I'm writing Fangs.”

“Oi, I didn't agree to that!”

“Too bad, I'm already writing it~”

“Okay, well if that's the stupid name I'm getting saddled with them I'm going to write it myself,” you said stubbornly. You actually didn't mind the name at all.

“Well that's it, then,” James said, “Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs, and Fangs. We could join the bloody circus.”

“All we need is a group name,” you said, half joking.

“We've already got one,” James said proudly.

“Oh? Let's hear it, then.”

“The Marauders.”

“. . .”

You kept your face straight for exactly three seconds before you burst out laughing. The four boys flushed with embarrassment.

“The Marauders?” you chortled, “what are you, pirates?”

“It's what McGonnagall called us the first time we got ourselves into proper trouble,” James defended himself, his cheeks reddening, “You rowdy mob of marauders, she'd said.”

“Huh,” you chuckled, coming down from your laughing fit, “Well, then I suppose that would make this The Marauders Map. I'll admit, it actually kinda has a ring to it.”

And despite your group's joking quips and bickering, they couldn't agree more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait,” Harry said, eyes wide at your story, “So, my dad was an animagus too?”

“Sure was,” you smiled warmly.

“This whole time I thought 'Prongs' was just because his patronus was a stag.”

“Your animagus form is usually the same animal as your patronus,” you explained, “In some very rare cases they can be different, but they work in the same emotionally driven vein of magical ability, so it would make sense that they'd be linked. Your father was extraordinary at both, because as much as he would deny it, he felt everything very deeply.”

Your eyes drifted to the wall opposite you in the living room, and a small but sad smile graced your features.

“Love is often the most powerful emotion a witch or wizard can draw from,” you said softly, “but you already know that.”

Harry followed your gaze over his shoulder. There, posted on the wall among a collage of photographs from the Order was a picture of his mother and father. It was one he'd seen a hundred times, and one he had his own copy of: them in each others' arms in a London park, autumn leaves swirling around them as they danced without any music. Even from this distance he could see the emotion in their eyes as they looked at one another— like they were the only two people in the world.

“Yeah,” Harry said, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, “I do.”

Read chapter 7 here!

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi @nxstalgicnxbxdy @calaryssia @aleksanderwh0r3 @juggysgirlfriend @beautifulsweetschaos @kattirin @mialupin1

[dustofbrokenheart]

The Lost Boys: Call 911

GIF by lostinsantacarla

Paul x Reader

Word Count: 2,550

Summary: Reader is out on patrol as part of the Santa Carla PD when they respond to a call out at the wharf. 

Amid the riotous flare of fireworks and fire crackers, it was difficult to make out the quickly approaching cop car but Marko prided himself on being observative.

Paul, Paulie, P-Man, his forever partner on the other hand…

Grabbing Paul by the front of his tank, he pulled the other vampire down to hiss in his ear. “We got company. We bail on my signal, got it?”

The honey blonde nodded distractedly, mesmerized by the bright bursts of colors overhead. The reds and blues and whites and pinks mixed with the curtain of smoke, creating a kaleidoscope against the inky night sky. 

He only heard part of what Marko was gripping about—something about a signal—but it wasn’t his fault he was having so much fun.

Another of their fireworks went off from behind Max’s Video, making him laugh even harder when some empty pallets became collateral. They splintered into pieces, the crunching sound of the wood masked by the other explosions.

Nothing said summer time fun like launching some Big Boys at the video store. It was a rockin’ light show and piss-off-Max scheme all wrapped in one. The crochety, old douche in question would no doubt have some choice words for them later but Paul wasn’t thinking about that; the only thing on his mind was blowing shit up.

In fact, he was so into it that he wasn’t prepared for the sharp punch to his ribs. He flew into the wall as Marko ran past, scampering to get airborne. “Go, go, go!”

The back door to the store opened with such force that it banged into the wall with a loud crack. Paul could sympathize. Two officers came through and before he could even think to pick himself up and run, they were on him.

The rounder of the two sat on his back, putting all his pounds into pinning Paul down. Normally, he would’ve thrown him off and maybe, probably, killed him, no sweat.

But.

There were too many people around that could catch him in the act. There’s no way Max would step in and not even Paul was stupid enough to slaughter that many people in plain sight.

Marko, he whined through the bond. A little help, bud? I’m kinda stuck.

All he got back was a manic cackle.

Paul squawked in outrage, knowing that the other would not be lending an assist. That traitor was all too content to sit back and laugh at him.

Whatever.

Screw him then.

It’s not like Paul had never been hauled in before anyhow.

“You know,” he grunted to the cop on his back, “It’s a good thing you’re not fat or anything, otherwise this would be more difficult.”

The knee dug into his back even harder and his head was pulled back by his hair. It didn’t hurt that much but still! He worked for hours to make his hair look good!

“Police brutality! I have rights, you know!” he yelled. The cop was starting to get on his nerves.

His face was shoved back into the ground and he ate gravel, sputtering to get the pebbles and grime out of his mouth with mixed success. The taste lingered and the only way to get rid of it would be to wash it down with something—

Hmm. He hadn’t planned on feeding that night but some pig blood would take care of it nicely.

He attempted to at least think of an isolated spot to rip out his throat without getting caught. Maybe in the cop car. Maybe he could drag him to the bushes outside of the station.

Oh! If the guy stopped for doughnuts, he could steal the car—doughnuts sounded good though. A nice chocolate glaze with sprinkles or something filled with strawberry jelly! The corner store on the boulevard had the best selection this time of night. He needed more hairspray, too, as long as he was at it, a magazine or three—he shook his head.

Come on, self, get it together!

“I’m going to find the one that ran. Officer Y/LN, you take this idiot back to the car and sit tight until I get back.”

Roughly, he was hauled to his feet and he had been so focused on the tub of lard that had him on the ground that he forgot two cops had burst through the door.

He planted his feet and refused to be moved as he glanced at the second one. It was like pushing at a stone wall, the other at his back unable to shove him into motion.

Immediately, Paul realized his mistake.

Why was he so occupied with that other asshole when he could’ve been looking at you, been pressed up against you the entire time?

The saying was that everyone loved a person in uniform and Paul was no exception. You made the normally dull standard navy uniform look good, the short sleeves showing off your arms and the pants managed to cup your ass in the tastiest way.

He’d cup your ass even better, if you gave him the chance.

Even the serious, disapproving scowl on your face was hot. What he wouldn’t do to get you to make that face with you on top of him, manhandling him any which way you wanted.

Screw his little feeding plan. He was willing to spare your partner in exchange for getting to know you better.

A big happy smile stretching across his face, he finally moved, dragging your partner rather than being forced forward.

“Hey, sexy,” he said with his signature wink, the one that always got him what he wanted with people. “Name’s Paul.”

To his disappointment, you didn’t respond and merely took control of his handcuffed hands as they were passed over.

As you lead him back through the video store, he pulled his arms to the left, acting like he was trying to resist. Just like he expected, you corrected him with a strong, tight grip that sent a rush down his spine.

“Ouch, babe, not so rough,” he purred. “I’m very sensitive.”

He glanced back quick to see your reaction and his bottom lip pushed out in a pout. You still wore a straight face that gave nothing away. No clenched jaw, no embarrassed tightening of your eyes. Definitely no hint of an amused smile.  

Gods, babe. You were really testing him.

Guess he’d have to try harder.

*** 

You were new to the Santa Carla Police Department. Very new. New as in it was your first incident on your first night on patrol.

It was just your luck that you’d ended up with airhead who’d set off a whole fireworks display right outside of a crowded store, which could have serious injury, and was now trying to flirt his way out of it.

Hell—was he pouting?

For a city of its size, Santa Carla PD had a surprising number of job openings. You were new to the area, having moved because it seemed like a nice, sunny California beach town and you were in need of a change.

You didn’t have any prior experience but you’d passed all the screenings and tests and expected the job offer they made. It had benefits, the pay was good, and, importantly, it was legal which seemed to be in short supply around these parts.

That last part was a surprise, especially with the high number of missing people’s cases; you’d think that more places would be desperate to fill jobs, too.

Steering the suspect towards the check out counter, you flagged down the owner who had been the called in to the station.

He turned towards you with a smile on his face and greeted you politely. “Hello, officer.”

“We caught one suspect, sir. The other fled the scene and my partner went after him. I’ll get started on the report—are you planning to press charges?”

The smile was suddenly no where to be seen and he casted a glare at the handcuffed blonde.

“But of course. I’ve told this degenerate and the others in this gang to stay out of here a hundred times before. They’ve gone too far this time.”

The suspect merely shrugged his shoulders and winked at you which set the owner off further.

“That! That right there is what I’m talking about. No respect, no conduct. How is a father supposed to parent if he gets no respect? Maybe they’re missing a motherly influence,” he trailed off.

A motherly influence? Okaaay, then.

Clearing your throat, you tried to bring the conversation back to topic. “Yeah…Well let me put him in the car and then we can get started on the report. Have a good night, sir.”

That should’ve been the end of it but of course the blonde had to open his big mouth. “Bye daddy!”

Max’s hand came down heavy on the counter and you jostled the boy away before he managed to start a full-blown confrontation.

“You surely have a big mouth for someone who’s being arrested. Don’t make things worse for yourself.”

His head perked up and you had to really plant your weight to keep him from turning around and sending you flying into a display in the process. Definitely stronger than he looked.

You noted that piece of information just in case he tried anything else.

“Aww. Are you worried about me?” he cooed. “Don’t be. I trust you to protect me, officer.”

“Any one ever tell you that you’re ridiculous?”

“All the time,” he nodded happily.

The profile of the suspect was coming together in your mind. Clearly, he was simple.

Happy and excitable, and yes, even pretty, but simple.

There’s no way he had been the mastermind behind the firework plot; that honor was likely saved for the one who escaped. He probably hadn’t agreed to do it with malicious intent either. Unfortunately, his inability to think things through had landed him in trouble and he was your problem now.

When you got to the entryway he even tried to the door open. “After you, officer.”

With a resigned sigh, you prodded him forward. Again. Really, this guy was worse than a puppy. A puppy could eventually be trained to listen but seeing as how he was late teens/early twenties, it was doubtful he ever would.

“You said your name was Paul?”

The p in his ‘yep’ popped.

“Last name?”

“Just Paul. I wouldn’t mind getting your name though.”

There’s no way you were telling him that. He would be that much more insufferable if he knew. And try as he might to hide his full name, that would come out when you booked him at the station.

“Well, Paul. You’re being charged with public endangerment and vandalism. Under California law, those are both misdemeanor crimes so most likely—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved away your words with a flick of his head. Annoyed, you yanked on the cuffs, causing him to moan. “I do appreciate a good pair of handcuffs.”

“You—!” You had to stop yourself from calling him a little shit out loud. No one would’ve stopped you, but you felt weird about it, almost like it would come off as being unprofessional.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to bring your voice back down. “Saying crazy things is only going to make things worse for you.”

“Promise to punish me if I don’t?” Another wink was flashed at you.

It was at that point you noticed he had long lashes for a male. They fluttered like butterfly wings whenever he blinked. Except you had a job to do and really shouldn’t care about how pretty he was.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that it took you by surprise when he leaned in close. Acting on tactical instinct, you threw him against the police vehicle, his torso pressed against the hood with legs spread wide.

The position was designed to be as uncomfortable as it looked so that there was little to no chance of him bucking you off. Good.

“Need I remind you,” you said gruffly, “That you are under arrest. Don’t test me.” 

“You should most definitely frisk me,” he panted.

You sincerely hoped it was pain, and not from pleasure, but from your brief encounter with Paul, it honestly could be the latter. Your own heart was pounding in your chest as well but that was due to the adrenaline pumping through your system.

Or so you maintained.

Still, he had a point. Frisking was standard procedure to make sure the suspect was carrying anything potentially dangerous, or illegal. Hell. You were going to have to give into this particular demand, weren’t you?

Wanting to get it over with, you tried to be as fast as possible while still be thorough.

His muscles were surprisingly cold as you felt up his arms and then his back. It was summertime and when most people had problems overheating, it didn’t seem to be an issue for him.

You dreaded going anywhere near his ass but it had to be done. He even insisted on ‘helping’ by pushing his cheeks further into your hands by curving his lower back as you patted down his pants pockets.

“Check the front too. I could have anything down my pants, ya know.”

That didn’t sound suggestive at all. His flirtations were so over the top is was near comical at that point. You couldn’t let him know that though. You were the authority figure in this situation.

“Alright smart guy, the frisking is over with. And surprise, surprise there was exactly nothing in your pants.”

“You wound me, babe.” If he had use of his arms, his hand would’ve definitely been placed over his heart.  

Standing him upright, you opened the door to seat him in the back. That had been the plan any way.

One second you held his metal clad wrists firmly in your grip and in the next, he twisted himself away effortlessly.

He spread his hands apart and although they each had a shiny steel band around them, the chain that had connected them broke off with a metallic clink.

Just like that he was completely mobile and he wasted no time.

In another imperceptible move, he covered your back with his front, his breath tickling you.

You couldn’t hold back a shiver.

“It’s been a pleasure, officer, but I really should get going. I’m just too cute for jail.” He rolled his head and his nose traced the shell of your ear with a deep inhale. “This was fun though. Let’s do it again, hmm?”

He shoved you into the back seat and luckily your reflexes were fast enough to catch yourself before you face planted into the leather seat. Thrashing like mad, you spun around as fast as you could but it was no use: Paul was already gone.

Stumbling out, you looked back and forth hoping to catch a glimpse of what direction he went but it was useless. Not only was that little shit stronger than he seemed, he was also faster.

Noted.

With a sinking realization, you knew you were going to have to explain this to your partner.

Oh, you were not looking forward to this…

Worst first night on a job ever.

_______________

Hope you enjoyed Paul! I feel like this is goofy and over the top but I guess that’s basically Paul’s vibes in a nutshell. Marko has definitely gotten Paul arrested before and Max has definitely called the cops on them before too haha. Thanks for reading <3