#but at the very least don't mock the thing or the person who likes the thing on the tee shirt you're wearing

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

hello hello I have a request if yoy wanna write rn ofc it might sound interesting but fairy reader x vox with some hade's and persephone vibes? you don't have to ofc but interesting concept!

Enchanted (Vox x faerie!reader)

Part two ->

Word count: 8739

Note! There’s more to this, I just thought it’d be overwhelming to have it all in one post. This is part one, let me know if yall wanna see more!

In the bustling streets of Hell, where chaos reigned supreme and every soul seemed destined for torment or redemption, Vox, the flamboyant and sharply dressed media overlord of the underworld, found himself unexpectedly intrigued by a newcomer. Amidst the swirling miasma of souls and demons, a faerie, radiant and ethereal, wandered with an air of curious wonder, my delicate wings shimmering softly against the stark backdrop of sin and suffering. At least, that’s how I liked to imagine it.

He had seen many strange creatures pass through Hell's gates, but none quite like me, apparently. Intrigued by my seeming innocence and purity in this bleak landscape, Vox approached with a grin that was both charming and predatory. "Well, well, what do we have here?" He asked, his voice cutting through the noise of the streets, drawing my attention.

“An annoyed individual who’s not afraid to bite y-” I paused for a moment, looking up at him. I furrowed my brow and frowned. “Why do you have a TV for a head?”

Vox chuckled at my bluntness, his grin widening with amusement. "Well, aren't you a peculiar little thing?" He leaned in slightly, his eyes flashing with a mix of curiosity and mockery. "It’s awfully rude to ask someone why they look a certain way, but… I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to know considering having TV for a head is rather odd. It's my signature look, darling. I am the media mogul of this realm, so having a television for a face just seemed fitting, don't you think?"

He studied me with an appraising gaze, his eyes lingering on my soft wings. "And you are?" He asked, his tone laced with mild mocking curiosity.

“You first,” I said, raising a skeptical brow. “May I have your name?”

Vox let out a scoff, his mockery shifting to a hint of irritation, but his sly smile remained. "Alright, fair enough," he said, feigning nonchalance. "I am Vox, Overlord of Hell's media scene, and the mastermind behind VoxTek. Happy now, little faerie?"

“Very,” I said with a mischievous grin. A soft glowing string appeared, wrapped around my finger and tied to his. Magic. It faded after a moment, the pretty red hue nowhere to be seen.

Images flashed before my eyes of him, his life- both living and his time in Hell. Everything from snippets of his childhood to arguments to important meetings- all core memories and key events. There was nothing more than a general idea, just a little tip so I’d have something to work with. “Thanks for the name, Vincent,” I purred.

Vox felt a pang of annoyance as a glowing string appeared, tying them together. "Excuse me?" He tried to move away, but found himself physically unable, tethered to me by the ephemeral magic. "Hold up a sec! What the- what did you do to me?" He exclaimed in genuine surprise, realizing that I, the seemingly innocent and naive faerie, had somehow bound us together with a spell.

As his gaze fixated on me, his irritation turned into a mix of curiosity and intrigue. "You know my real name? And what was that string thing? Some kind of faerie magic?"

“I asked for your name, and you gave it. Names are special- they’re what allow a faerie to cast a spell on a person. I asked for yours, and you gave it. It’s mine now, and so, to some extent, you’re also mine.” I twirled my finger, making the string appear again, tauntingly. “Eyes are windows to the soul, but your name? It’s directly tethered to your very being. Congratulations, Vincent, you just got played.”

Vox's eyes widened in surprise and disbelief as he processed the revelation. I’d had played him, using something as simple as his own name against him. It was a clever trick, one that he had to admit he wasn't prepared for.

He clenched his fist, trying and failing to break the magic string. "Well, isn't that just brilliant," he muttered through gritted teeth. "I made a simple request for your name, and now I'm your...whatever you want to call it."

“Boy toy?” I asked, raising a brow with a smug grin.

He looked at me with a mix of irritation and reluctant respect. "Alright, what's your game here, princess?"

“Nothing much…” I said, tugging him closer. “To be honest, I haven’t decided. This realm is just as interesting as I thought it’d be- a nice little change from before…”

He gave me a look, as if to say ‘what the fuck’, but not being able to put it into words- too busy trying to process everything else I’d just implied so casually.

“So, I basically own your soul now, don’t I?” I asked, tilting my head at him. “Forgive me, but I’m not well practiced in how souls work for you demons- I do know they’re important down here, though. It’d be rather embarrassing if word got out that a powerful overlord such as yourself belongs to a pretty little faerie like me.”

The thought of his reputation being tarnished by belonging to a faerie infuriated him, but he couldn't deny the truth in my words. He had willingly given his name, thereby giving me power over him. It was a bitter pill to swallow.

"Yes, alright, you basically have some kind of ownership over me now," he grumbled, his pride wounded. "And if word gets out that I'm a faerie's plaything, it will be a massive blow to my reputation. So, what do you plan to do with this power you have over me then, princess?"

“Like I said before, I don’t really know yet,” I said with a shrug. I started walking down the street, making the string invisible again so as to not draw too much attention. I didn’t need other sinners noticing and putting his reputation at risk already. I still tugged him along with it, though. “I think I’d like for you to show me around. I’d like to know Hell a little better… oh, and try to be truthful, would you? Faeries don’t take kindly to liars.”

"Oh, fantastic," Vox muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes. He followed me, the invisible string tugging him along like a reluctant puppy on a leash. "Show you around, sure. Whatever. But don't expect a tour guide performance worthy of a five-star review."

He mentally cursed to himself, hating the fact that he was now basically at a faerie's mercy. And what did I mean by truthful? He always lied. Always. But...there was a hint of uneasiness in his expression.

“You’re a businessman, aren’t you?” I asked, looking over my shoulder and eyeing him up and down. “I’m sure you can afford to add some spice and energy to it- and if anyone asks why I get special treatment, say it’s an attempt to get more faeries to visit. We’d be a valuable asset to all the denizens here, and I’m sure it’d make sense with your… track record.”

"Hmm," Vox considered my words for a moment, the gears in his head turning. I had a point. Appealing to the faeries was a smart move, and it would look good for his reputation. He could use it to his advantage.

"Alright," he said after a moment, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "I can spin that. And yes, I'm a businessman, so adding a little flare will be child's play. Shall we begin our tour then, princess?"

“Be my guest,” I said, gesturing for him to take the lead.

Vox chuckled and nodded. "Alright then, let's head down this way." He took the lead, striding confidently down the bustling streets of Hell. I took note of the glowing ports in the back of his head and smiled to myself.

"Welcome to Pentagram City, the city of sinners, the cesspool of the damned," he announced dramatically, looking around. "Home to all sorts of sinners, both famous and infamous- mostly the latter."

“I assume you fall into the latter group as well?” I asked teasingly.

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "See over there?" He pointed to a tall building in the distance. "That's my corporate headquarters, VoxTek."

“Oh, that explains why it’s so pretty,” I said, with a bright smile. I looked at the glowing shades of blue, humming softly as I followed behind him. “It’s like you.”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my compliment, a hint of surprise on his face. He was used to praise, but my casual nature intrigued him. "Like me?" he repeated, a hint of mockery in his voice. Apparently he didn’t know how to take a goddamned compliment. "Are you saying I'm 'pretty', now?"

“What? Am I not allowed to compliment a person?” I asked, confused. I tilted my head at him inquisitively, genuinely curious. “You’re a well respected and successful businessman, you’re CEO of your very own company, you literally own that building. You’re known for your charismatic and charming attitude, your confidence, and it’s part of why you’re so popular. Is it really unbelievable that I’d notice these things and point them out?”

Vox was taken aback by my straightforwardness. my compliments sounded genuine, and he wasn't used to such sincere praise. He paused for a moment, studying me, trying to figure me out.

"Well, I suppose you have a point," he admitted begrudgingly. "I am all those things you mentioned. But I'm not used to being complimented in such a...sincere way I suppose. Usually, people praise me because they want something."

“I’m not quite sure what I want,” I said, walking past him to continue the tour. “Oh, but for the record? Faeries can’t lie. I can be deceitful, sure, but I’ll never lie to you outright. Hopefully that eases some worries you may have…”

Vox watched me walk past him with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. The fact that I had to specify that I wouldn't lie to him was a bit unnerving, but my words still held a ring of truth.

He followed me, trying to keep up his confident demeanor but feeling a bit off-balance. "So, you can't lie, huh? That's...interesting."

He paused for a moment, a sly smile appearing on his face. "But you said you can be deceptive, right? Maybe we'll have to test those boundaries sometime."

“Mm,” I said, a little distracted. I paused- causing him to bump into me, though I didn’t notice nor mind much- and looked at a different building. Glass, plants everywhere, in various shades of pink purple and blue, a sign with three Vees perched at the top. It was luxurious and pretty. “What’s that?” I asked, pointing to it. The middle V was bigger and in blue. “Do you own that one too?”

Vox halted behind me and followed my gaze to the building I had pointed out. "Ah, that would be the place where my associates stay," he replied. "Valentino and Velvette. That's their building, the Vee's headquarters I guess you could call it. A bit extravagant for my tastes, but oh well.”

I snorted at that last part, not believing it at all. “Don’t you live there too, then?” I asked, looking up at him. “Can you bring me there? I wanna see it up close. It looks so nice!”

Vox couldn't help but chuckle at my eagerness to see the building. "Eager, aren't we?" he said, amused. "But yeah, technically I do live there, though I have my own floor."

He turned to start heading towards the building, with me in tow. "Come on then, princess. I suppose a closer look won't hurt."

I followed along, right at his heels, a beaming smile on my face. “Thank you!” I said lightly- I paused for a moment, rethinking- almost surprised with myself. Then I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you,” I said, softer.

Vox looked back at me, a hint of surprise in his eyes. He wasn't used to people genuinely thanking him so sincerely. It was...kind of nice. He returned my smile faintly, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

"No problem," he replied, his tone a bit softer than usual. "Just try not to break anything while we're in there."

“I wouldn’t dare,” I said seriously. “That’d be awfully poor etiquette, wouldn’t it? Tell me, how much do you know about faeries?”

Vox chuckled at my comment, appreciating my awareness of etiquette. Not many demons cared- most just blew up walls as they pleased. He walked alongside me, considering my question.

"Well, let's see," he began. "I know that faeries are creatures from a different realm, often associated with nature, magic, and trickery. They're known for their enchanting beauty and unpredictable nature. What more is there to know?"

“We value being truthful and polite,” I said, matter of fact, purposefully ignoring the ‘enchanting beauty’ part he’d mentioned. I didn’t think it was relevant, nor was it up for discussion. “And in being fair, but that’s… I feel like that one’s rather obvious.”

"Ah, the importance of honesty and politeness, how quaint," Vox said with a hint of mockery. "But fair? You mean being fair in the sense of giving something of equal value in return, is that it?"

“Yeah,” I said with a nod. “That’s why I won’t be abusing my power over you. You gave me your name, you put yourself in this situation, sure, but I was deceitful. Because of that, it’s a basic requirement that I not force you to do anything absurd or serious. Just small little favors is all I ask of you.”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my response. "Small little favors, huh?" he echoed. "That doesn't sound so bad. But forgive me if I have a hard time trusting the word of a fae."

He led me into the lobby of the building, his gaze flicking around at the luxurious surroundings. "And what kind of 'small little favors' do you have in mind?"

“Well, you make a fairly good tour guide,” I noted, looking around curiously. I paused for a moment, once we were in a quieter space, and turned to him. “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing- but I would like to know what you’ll be using your favor for.”

Vox smirked at my compliment, enjoying the boost to his ego. "A good tour guide, eh? Why thank you, princess," he replied with that usual air of arrogance.

He leaned back against the wall, considering my question. "Hm, what will I be using my favor for, you ask. That's a good question."

He looked at me for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I'll tell you what. I'll save my favor for when I need it."

“Yes but- goodness, do you even know why I owe you a favor?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. I put my hands on my hips, expectant. “I hope you know that the reason I owe you determines what kind of favor you can ask for.”

Vox chuckled at my slightly annoyed expression. "Of course I know why you owe me a favor," he replied, a smirk on his face. "You used your power over me, and I gave you my name. According to your principles, that means you owe me a favor, right?"

“No, no, no!” I muttered, exasperated. “You gave me your name, I have a certain amount of power over you. You gave me your name, and in return I keep you safe so long as you do me some favors. I don’t owe you anything else for that.” I made the red string appear again. “This,” I said, pointing to it. “Means it’s even, we’re even, that little interaction is sorted out.”

He leaned a little closer, his gaze meeting mine. "But I'm curious, what kind of favor would depend on the reason? Do tell."

I paused for a moment and sighed. “I owe you a favor because you’re bringing me here,” I said, gesturing to the building. “It’s something I asked of you but didn’t have the power to force you to do with your name alone. You chose to oblige, and then I thanked you. A thank you means I owe you for it, that’s why saying ‘thank you’ is typically taboo when it comes to faeries.” I looked back up at him, somewhat annoyed. “Now I owe you a favor equal to that. I’d say bringing me here was a medium show of kindness, so I owe you a medium sized favor. Fair is fair.”

Vox raised an eyebrow as he listened to my explanation, a bit taken aback by the intricacy of my principles. "You have a very strict set of rules, don't you?" he muttered, his tone a mix of amusement and annoyance.

He considered my reasoning for a moment, his expression one of mild irritation. "So you're telling me," he began, his annoyance very clearly creeping into his tone, "that saying 'thank you' to you is like a binding contract?"

“It’s faerie etiquette,” I muttered, heat rising to my cheeks as I looked away. “I don’t make the rules, okay?” I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them and tried to adjusted my hair to hide my pointed ears- knowing they’d be bright red.

Vox couldn't help but find my reaction amusing. The way I stammered and flushed pink was almost endearing. He smirked, a glint in his eyes.

"Aw, is the little fae embarrassed?" he teased, a hint of mocking in his voice. "All flustered because you accidentally thanked me, and now you owe me a favor? How adorable."

“Stop that,” I mumbled, now trying to hide my face instead. My ears twitched and moved back against my head. I muttered something incoherently. “Have you decided what it’ll be, or not?”

Vox couldn't help but chuckle at my flustered state, enjoying how easy it was to rattle me. He hummed in thought for a moment, watching my attempt to hide my rosy cheeks under my hands, and the way my ears twitched. It was far too amusing.

"No, I haven't decided yet," he replied, enjoying the power he held over me in this situation. "And do you know why I haven't decided?"

“Because you hate me,” I said, under my breath.

Vox chuckled at my muttered reply. "Oh, I wouldn't say I hate you, princess," he said, his tone mocking yet playful. "But you are a pain in the ass, that's for sure. I'm just enjoying watching you squirm, all flustered and embarrassed."

“Oh fuck off,” I said, nudging him lightly. I walked ahead of him, trying to explore more of the tower and get my mind off things.

I was fuming, desperately trying to get ahold of myself. These weren’t just rules I could break, I didn’t get a say in them at all. I was being made fun of for abiding by them despite the fact I didn’t have a choice in the matter- I was physically incapable of going against them! And he was upset at me for it- at least, it felt like it.

Vox chuckled as I walked ahead of him, enjoying our little banter. That’s what he thought of it as, nothing more. Not that I knew at the time. He followed along beside me, a smirk on his face.

"Feisty, aren't we?" he commented, watching me explore the tower with curiosity. "Admit it, you're enjoying this little game we're playing."

“It’s not a game! I’m following the rules- and being rather nice, by explaining it all, mind you!” I huffed and walked quickly, trying to lose him. Unfortunately for me, he was tall and had long legs.

Vox followed after me, his strides effortlessly matching my quick pace. He chuckled again, finding my frustrated demeanor adorable.

"You're so serious, princess," he teased. "It's like you can't have fun unless everything is orderly and polite."

“It’s just basic etiquette!” I said, unintentionally raising my voice. I glared at him, then continued walking- almost stomping- through the labyrinth of hallways. “Why don’t you get that? I’m being normal, you’re the asshole who can’t be honest or graceful or- or anything else, really!”

Vox found my outburst amusing, his smirk widening into a full-blown grin. He followed along, not missing a single step as I stormed down the halls.

"Graceful? Honest?" he repeated, his tone dripping with mock surprise. "Who gave you the right to judge me, princess? You're the one who can't even utter a simple thanks without owing someone a favor."

“I’m not the one trapped in a fiery cesspool of failure for all of eternity like you,” I spat, not even looking at him anymore. “My biggest accomplishment will be something better than ‘renowned businessman among humanity’s worst’. Look at yourself! You pride yourself on being top of your stupid little hierarchy down here, but really you’re just boasting about being the worst of the worst- another embarrassment, just slightly less embarrassing than the people around you!”

Vox's smile faded at my harsh words. Though he tried to maintain his cool, my comment clearly hit a nerve. The words stung, and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of irritation.

"Excuse me?" he said, his tone sharp. "Watch what you say. You have no idea what it takes to survive and succeed in this place. I've done what I have to do to get to where I am. And it's not a 'little hierarchy'. It's a damn kingdom.”

“Ha!” I scoffed and rolled my eyes. “As if anyone down here would know what a real kingdom looks like, or what it’d take to rule.”

“You know nothing about honesty or hard work, you got where you are based on a foundation of lies and shortcuts! Don’t you dare try to talk to me about survival when you’ve had it easy your whole life, Vincent,” I snapped. “Not everyone was born in a nice little mansion on the hill like you, Mr. Sterling. Some of us had to actually work and make sacrifices to even get by- you didn’t. You had it all right in front of you, the opportunity to live a good life, and you chose to throw it away! You chose to lie and deceive people, using religion as a front to get what you wanted, you chose to kill people when they questioned your authority, and you chose to run away when faced with the consequences of your actions! You landed yourself down here in hell with a stupid TV for a face, so don’t you even start.”

Vox's jaw clenched as I continued my verbal assault. He tried to keep his cool, but my words stung, hitting a little too close to home.

"How dare you," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "You don't know anything about me or the choices I've made. You sit there on your high horse, acting like some saint, when you're just as manipulative as the rest of us. You use your words and your twisted rules to play mind games with people. And you have the nerve to talk about honesty and work ethic. You're no better than me."

“I literally can’t fucking lie, Vincent!” I yelled, turning on my heel, getting in his face. “You hear me? I can’t fucking lie! I can use word play to spin the truth, but I can’t fucking lie! I live among other faeries- a little wordplay doesn’t get you anywhere! There’s no deceit between faeries, because we’re all too fucking wary of one another to even give it a shot. I learned magic on my own, I became heir to the Autumn Court on my own fucking merit. I built myself from the ground up and all you’ve ever done is dig your own fucking grave. I don’t* want to hear it.”

Vox stared back at me, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. He clenched his fists, struggling to find a response to my words.

"You think you're so much better than me?" he growled. "You think that just because you can't lie, that makes you some sort of saint? News flash, princess- not being able to lie doesn't mean you're incapable of deception."

“You- You’re not even listening are you?”

He took a step closer, towering over me. "Shut up. Don't think for a minute that I didn't have to struggle to get where I am."

“Fuck you,” I muttered, pushing him harshly. I turned away from him and disappeared- literally. I wasn’t in front of him, I wasn’t in the same hallway or floor as him anymore. I was gone.

Vox stumbled back slightly as I pushed him, his eyes widening in surprise. Before he could even register what happened, I was gone.

He stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where I had been standing just a moment before. Anger and confusion swirled in his mind.

"Where the hell did she go...?" he muttered, looking around the hallway.

He grumbled under his breath, frustrated at my sudden disappearance. Just when he thought he had me figured out, I found a way to surprise him.

"Of course she has to have some kind of teleporting power," he muttered to himself. "Just my luck."

He looked around the hallway one more time, hoping to spot any sign of me, but I seemed to have vanished completely.

I looked around, and damn near yelled in frustration when I realized I’d teleported to his bedroom. I was still tied to him, I couldn’t go far, so my magic had kept me in the tower, just a few floors up higher than before. And in his room.

“Fucking fantastic!” I muttered, throwing my hands up.

I would’ve destroyed something if I could. However, it was poor etiquette and as a faerie, I was literally incapable of breaking the rules. So, instead, I flopped onto his bed and angrily hugged one of his pillows, with no other way to vent my frustration.

Some time later, Vox made his way to his bedroom, exhausted and still fuming from our earlier argument. He was looking forward to collapsing onto his bed and trying to forget the whole thing.

Imagine his surprise when he opened the door and saw me sprawled out on his bed, clutching one of his pillows and seething with anger.

Vox paused in the doorway, watching me for a moment. He hadn't expected me to be here.

I had my back to the door, I hadn’t seen him come in. I wasn’t exactly mad at him anymore, I was more so mad at myself.

Vox leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed as he observed me from the doorway. He could sense my frustration and anger, but also a hint of self-directed rage.

After a moment of watching me, he cleared his throat, announcing his presence. "Are you planning on hogging my bed, princess?" he said in a light, teasing tone. He was trying to- making an effort to keep it casual.

I made a small squeak of surprise, jumping up, startled. I looked at him, then looked away. I scooted over, making space for him. “Sorry,” I mumbled.

Vox smirked as I scooted over, making space for him. He could see the guilt in my eyes, and my muttered apology only made him smirk more.

He sauntered over to the bed and sat down beside me, his weight making the mattress dip slightly. He leaned back against the headboard, his gaze flicking towards me once more.

"You know, you could have just stayed down on the lower floor," he commented, his tone lighthearted but with a hint of amusement. "Didn't have to teleport all the way up here."

“I didn’t mean to,” I said quietly. My ears twitched, then went back to how they were when he walked in- drooping slightly. “I meant to leave but- magic. I’m tied to you so it brought me here. I don’t know enough about Hell or even this tower to navigate it by myself. I’d probably die within moments if I stepped out the door without you.”

Vox watched as my ears drooped, a hint of guilt creeping into his chest. It was odd to see me so... Defeated. He liked it better when I was feisty.

"Ah, so you're stuck with me, are you?" he said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Guess that means you can't escape my charming presence, princess."

I sighed, hugging the pillow tighter. “I’m sorry,” I said, softer. My voice sounded strained, as if I was trying not to cry. “I’m sorry about earlier, I shouldn’t have yelled. You didn’t deserve that. Any of it. I’m sorry.”

Vox's smirk slowly faded as he heard my strained voice. He hadn't expected me to apologize, especially not so sincerely.

He looked at me, my face half-hidden in the pillow, and he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He'd expected me to continue arguing, not this... This vulnerable side of me.

"Hey," he said, his tone softer than before. "Look at me."

“Mmm,” I whined softly, burying my head against the pillow. I hated eye contact. Especially at times like this.

He chuckled lightly at my response, finding it oddly endearing.

"Oh, come on, princess," he said, reaching over and gently tugging on my shoulder. "Look at me. I can't see your face if you're hiding behind that pillow."

I made another noise, then looked up at him, my face being the pinnacle of worry, nervousness, guilt, and discomfort. “Vox,” I whined, the first time I’d used his Hell name rather than his old one.

Vox watched as I looked up at him, my face a mix of emotions. He couldn't help but be slightly taken aback when I used his Hell name, his real name. But he didn't show it.

He raised an eyebrow at me, his expression still soft. "Ah, finally using my real name, are you?" he teased. "I must be growing on you."

“No! Vincent is your old name, but- and-I just- mmph…” I groaned and tried to bury my head in the pillow again. “I was trying to be polite. Or nice or whatever.”

Vox chuckled softly as I tried to bury my head in the pillow once more, finding my struggle adorable.

"Ah-ah-ah," he chided, gently tugging on my shoulder again. "No hiding. Look at me. And I prefer Vox. It fits me better. Vincent is so..." he trailed off, waving his hand dismissively. "Boring."

“I don’t think it’s boring,” I said with a pout. “I think it’s cute. Vincent Sterling. Do you have a last name anymore? Or is just Vox?”

Vox blinked, a bit caught off guard by my comment. Cute. No one had ever called him cute before. Especially not when he was called Vincent.

He chuckled softly, his smirk returning. "I don't have a last name anymore. Just Vox. It's less cumbersome than 'Vox Sterling' anyway."

He paused, studying my pouting face. "You called me cute," he said, a hint of disbelief in his voice.

“It’s just the truth,” I said quietly. “How many times do I have to tell you? Faeries can’t lie. I’m physically incapable of saying anything untrue.”

Vox chuckled, his smirk widening into a small smile. He couldn't help but find my honesty endearing, even if it had been a pain in his ass earlier.

"So I'm cute, eh?" he repeated, his tone playful. "That's a first, princess. Most people down here call me a lot of things, but cute is not one of them."

“What, do they have cooler words describe an attractive person?” I asked, raising a brow. “Would you prefer hot, sexy, or handsome? I thought the words cute and pretty summed it up fairly well. I think it’s more endearing.”

Vox's smirk turned into a devious grin as I listed off the different words I could use to describe him. He couldn't deny that he liked the sound of them, especially coming from me.

"Ah, so you think I'm attractive, do you?" he said, his tone playful yet laced with a hint of arrogance. "I'll take charming, attractive, and sexy. Cute and pretty are more... Endearing, like you said. They suit you more, princess."

“N-” I was about to protest but stopped short. I bit my lip and muttered something under my breath. I couldn’t say ‘no’ because that’d be a lie.

Vox watched me bite my lip and mutter under my breath, his smirk growing wider as he realized what I was trying to do. He leaned in a bit closer to me.

"What was that, princess?" he asked, his tone still playful. "You were going to protest, weren't you? Maybe deny that you find me attractive?"

“No! I was going to say that the words cute and pretty aren’t good descriptions for me,” I said honestly, looking back at him quickly. “But apparently that’s a lie. So I can’t.”

Vox let out a laugh, amused by my frustration. I couldn't lie, and damn, it was entertaining to watch me struggle.

"Ah, so you don't think you're cute or pretty, huh?" he said, still grinning. "Seems like your own magic is disagreeing with you there, princess."

“Unfortunately,” I mumbled, fidgeting a little bit. “I think… interesting is the word I would use to describe myself. Nothing too definite, you know? Plenty of room for change.”

Vox studied me for a moment, his gaze flickering over my fidgeting form. I seemed uncomfortable with the idea of being either cute or pretty. He couldn’t help but find it adorable.

"Interesting, huh?" he repeated, his tone still playful. "Nothing definite. Just... Changeable. I suppose that works. You're definitely a unique one, princess.”

“Why do you even call me that?” I asked, searching his expression for the answer. “Do you have a set pet name for everyone you talk to? You seemed to decide on mine pretty quickly.”

Vox chuckled, his expression a mix of amusement and arrogance. He leaned back against the headboard, one knee bent, his arm resting casually on it.

"It just suits you," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "You're so uptight, so serious. But there's something... Innocent. Almost naive, about you. That makes me want to call you princess. It fits you."

“I’m not naive,” I said with a huff. Then I paused and grinned. “See? Not a lie! The magic agrees with me.”

Vox smirked at my declaration, his eyes glinting in amusement. He couldn't help but find my stubbornness and the way I seemed to constantly prove a point endearing.

"Oh, really?" he said, raising an eyebrow. "You sure you're not naïve, princess? Because you certainly seem to have a lot of faith in that magic of yours."

“I am physically incapable of telling a lie,” I said flatly.

"So you've said," Vox replied, chuckling. "Over and over again."

He shifted closer to me on the bed, leaning in slightly. A teasing smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"But just because you can't lie, princess, doesn't automatically make you right."

“Yes it does,” I said, looking back up at him again. I squinted. “You just don’t like to be wrong.”

Vox chuckled again, his smirk growing into a cheeky grin. He loved my stubborn determination, even when it was directed at him.

"Oh, I'm not the one who doesn't like to be wrong, princess," he retorted. "That would be you. I'm perfectly fine being wrong every now and again, especially when I get to see you get all flustered and angry."

“I’m not flustered!” I said quickly- too quickly. To my annoyance, heat flooded my face again. Now I was flustered. “And I’m not angry! I’m just mildly annoyed with your inability to grasp the concept of honesty simply because you can’t go five seconds without lying.”

Vox chuckled, his smirk widening as he noticed the heat rising to my face. He loved how easily I got flustered, especially when I tried to deny it.

"Mildly annoyed, huh?" He repeated, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Is that why you're looking so flustered right now, princess? That red blush on your cheeks says otherwise."

“Oh shush,” I said, looking away. I snapped my fingers and the lights in the room went out. Unfortunately for me, he had a TV for a face, which meant it glowed and vaguely lit up the room. At least, whatever was closest to him.

Vox chuckled at my attempt to hide my flustered state by dimming the lights. Unfortunately for me, it hadn't worked in the slightest.

"Nice try, princess," he taunted in the darkness. "But your little trick didn't work. You're still blushing." He shifted a bit closer to me, the soft glow from his screen illuminating his face.

My breath hitched and I sort of froze for a moment. “You’re close,” I mumbled, my eyes going wide. My pupils dilated and I leaned in closer to him, like a moth to flame. I had a small smile on my face- absolutely ensnared by the light of his screen.

Vox smirked as he noticed it all, even the way my eyes widened slightly. He couldn't deny that my reaction amused him, and fueled his playful nature.

As I leaned in closer, captivated by the light of his screen, he chuckled softly and leaned in even closer until we were almost face to face.

"That's right, princess," he murmured, his voice low and smooth. "I'm right here, glowing just for you."

“Glowing,” I repeated softly, the tension leaving my body. I moved closer to him, almost in his lap, just staring. I felt a small itch in my back and unfurled my wings without thinking- not really caring, either, despite how fragile they could be. He had me mesmerized.

Vox chuckled softly as I moved closer. The sight of me unfurling my wings, delicate and fragile, didn't escape his notice. But my entranced expression, as if enchanted by his screen, made him feel a strange sense of power. He hadn’t had any power since he’d first given me his name and now… well, he wanted to use this to his advantage.

He raised a sharp-clawed hand, gently stroking along the edge of my wing. "Careful, princess," he murmured, his tone still playful but softer than before. "Those wings are delicate, aren't they?"

“Mhmm,” I mumbled, with a slight nod. A shiver went down my spine but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I hummed lightly as I stared at him. “You’re pretty.”

Vox chuckled again, my honest words and entranced expression only boosting his confidence. He continued to gently stroke my wing, feeling another shiver run through me.

"And you're adorable, princess," he teased, his smirk widening. "All flustered and mesmerized by my screen. It's quite endearing, really."

“I wanna touch it,” I said, my gaze flicking to actually meet his eyes this time. “Please let me touch it.”

Vox raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by my request. But he had to admit, the thought of me touching his face was intriguing.

"My screen? You want to touch it, princess?" he asked, amusement and curiosity in his tone. "Why, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you're just looking for excuses to touch me."

“Mph,” I said, my expression falling for a moment. I rolled my eyes and just leaned closer instead, still not touching him. We were hardly an inch apart at this point.

Vox chuckled softly as I leaned even closer, our faces almost touching. He could feeling my soft breath against his screen as I rolled my eyes at him. He found my irritation and stubbornness to be oddly… cute.

"What's the matter, princess?" he taunted. "No witty retort this time? Just going to try and press yourself against me instead?"

“Please,” I said again, softly, breathlessly.

Vox's smirk widened as he heard my quiet plea. There was something about me being this close to him, practically begging to touch his screen, that made his ego soar.

"Please, what, princess?" he asked, his voice low and smooth. He continued to stroke my wing, enjoying my reactions. "Use your words."

“Mmn..” I made a low humming sound as he touched me, relaxing all over again in an instant. “Please let me touch your screen.”

"Touch my screen, huh?" Vox repeated, his smirk holding strong. He chuckled softly, his gaze still locked on my face, enjoying the effect his touch had on me. He knew he had me completely entranced.

"And what makes you think I'll let you touch it, princess? What's in it for me?"

“Vox,” I whined softly, as he moved away slightly. I couldn’t stay upset at him while he was touching my wings like that, though. I thought for a moment, then smiled. “A kiss?”

Vox chuckled again at my soft whine, his smirk softening at my innocent offer. A kiss, huh? Not what he was expecting, but he couldn't deny that the idea intrigued him.

"A kiss, princess?" he repeated, still stroking my wing. "You think offering to kiss me will convince me to let you touch my screen?"

“Mhm,” I said, finally moving to sit in his lap. I was still looking up at him with wide eyes. “You called me cute and pretty.”

Vox chuckled again as I moved closer, touching him, without a care in the world. Just me, him, and my utterly mesmerized gaze fixed on him. He placed his hands on my hips, steadying me. My sudden boldness caught him a bit off guard, but he was entertained by my eagerness.

"So you're trying to use my compliments against me, huh, princess?" he teased. "Using flattery to get what you want from me? How devious, for a faerie like you."

“Not really,” I mumbled lightly. “If you were talking to another, you’d be skinned alive and draped across their parlor floor like a new rug.” The words slipped out before I could stop myself, too caught up in the enchanting glow of his screen.

Vox's smirk widened at my unexpected comment, the image it painted in his mind making him chuckle once again. "Now, now, princess," he said, his tone only slightly admonishing. "That's a bit gruesome, even for me. But I appreciate the sentiment."

He continued to hold me, enjoying the way I looked at him with my wide-eyed gaze, my face flushed and my wings gently draped behind me. He couldn't help but taunt me a bit.

"You seem pretty entranced by my screen, princess. What is it about its glow that you find so captivating?"

“Moth,” I said softly, fluttering my wings for emphasis. I was a moth faerie, we liked bright lights and blue light especially. Also just shiny things in general.

Vox chuckled once again, understanding now why I seemed so fixated on the glow of his screen. It was my faerie nature calling out to him. Seemed like a rather odd weakness to have- easily exploitable. It seemed like a miracle to him, that I hadn’t been killed already.

"Ah, that explains it, huh? You're a little moth drawn to the glow of my screen. How fitting, for a princess like you." He continued to hold me, his grip on my hips tightening ever so slightly as he teased me. “So naive..”

“Please let me touch it,” I said again, quietly.

Vox raised an eyebrow at my continued begging, amused by my eagerness and insistence. He chuckled once more, his smirk growing wider.

"You're quite determined, aren't you, princess?" he teased. "You really want to touch my screen, huh?"He paused, pretending to consider my request for a moment, before speaking in a playful tone. "Alright, princess. Go ahead."

I smiled and let out an excited squeak, then kissed him. As apart of the deal. Though I won’t deny, it was nice.

Vox chuckled softly as I kissed him- thinking for a moment it was only out of pure excitement- enjoying the taste of my lips on his own. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him in his lap as the kiss lasted for a few moments.

Electric would be a good way to describe it. Tiny little shocks flitted through me as he wrapped his tongue around mine.

When I finally broke away, he let out a low, pleased hum. "You keep surprising me, princess," he murmured, still holding me close to him. "And making deals that seem to benefit me more than you."

“Mmm,” I mumbled, my gaze still fixated on the glow. I smiled and pushed him down against the mattress within seconds, laying down ontop of him, nuzzling my face against his screen with a content hum.

Vox chuckled, caught off guard by my boldness once again. I was lying directly on top of his chest, as if he were my very own mattress. Me nuzzling my face against his screen sent a shiver through him, both from my delicate touch and the unexpected position we were in.

"You're full of surprises today," he teased, his arms still holding me loosely around my waist. "First, the kiss. Now, pinning me down and nuzzling up on me."

“I’m never letting go,” I purred, not moving in the slightest. I made a small buzzing sound- a moths equivalent to a purr- and fluttered my wings happily as I continued to nuzzle against him.

Vox chuckled again, the sound rumbling through his screen. my buzzing, purring sound and happy wing flutters were adorably cute, even for him. He watched the way my ears twitched, a fond smile on his face. Maybe he was as enchanted by me as I was by him. He had to admit, my unabashed affection was unexpected, but certainly not unwelcome.

"Is that so, princess?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You're never letting go, huh? Gonna keep nuzzling up on me like this forever?"

“Yep!” I said with a grin. I shifted a little, getting comfortable, then paused. “Are you cold?” I asked softly, actually looking him in the eyes this time. “Do you need to charge?”

Vox raised an eyebrow at my question. Despite my apparent obsession with his screen, I still seemed to care about his well-being. He thought… well, he thought that he’d had me completely mesmerized, wrapped around his finger- but this proved otherwise. He didn’t know that I could just tear away my focus from the light at any moment, he thought he’d had me hopelessly entranced. It was awkward for him to realize, but he quickly gathered himself.

"Cold?" he repeated with a smirk. "No, princess, I don't feel cold. But I do need to charge from time to time. Why do you ask?"

“Mm,” I said, getting up for a moment. I rummaged around his room for a moment before finding the plugs that went into the back of his head. I returned to the bed with them and lifted his head, plugging him in without a word. “There. Now we can continue.”

Vox watched me with curiosity as I went about finding the plugs and then carefully lifting his head to plug them into the sockets with ease. He shivered at the sensation of me touching him so gently, with tender care. He wasn’t used to it- he wasn’t even used to others plugging him in. He usually did it himself.

"Thank you, princess," he said with a nervous smile, as I finished plugging him in. He shifted into a more comfortable position, his head still resting against the pillows. "Now, where were we?"

“Like this,” I said, getting back into position and nuzzling my face against his again. “You owe me a favor now,” I noted with a smile.

Vox chuckled and smiled at my comment, enjoying the feeling of me nuzzling against his screen again. My happy buzzing practically reverberated through him. He found my carefree nature and playful attitude strangely satisfying. It was a weakness he usually hated but here… somehow he couldn’t bring himself to.

"Oh, do I, princess?" he teased, pretending to be offended. "And what kind of favor do I owe you, exactly?"

“Undecided,” I said softly. “It’s a small one, though.”

Vox chuckled again at my vague statement. A small favor, huh? He wondered what kind of insignificant but amusing thing I might ask for.

"A small favor," he repeated, still holding me close to him. "You're really making me curious here, princess. What kind of insignificant little task are you gonna make me do for you?"

“Mmm,” I mumbled, avoiding the question.

As I began making the soft buzzing sound and nuzzling against him again, Vox found himself relaxing. The feeling of me against him, my warm body and gentle touches, was surprisingly soothing.

As I began to drift off to sleep, nodding off, he chuckled softly, feeling my body grow heavy against him. "Looks like the princess is tired," he teased, his voice low. He ran a clawed hand through my hair, gently stroking it as I slept.

Despite himself, Vox found comfort in my presence. my weight against him, my wings slowly rising and falling with my breathing, was strangely soothing. He continued to run his clawed hand through my hair, careful not to wake me. Why did doing that feel so good? It was like a stress reliever. Almost natural.

For the rest of the night, he let me sleep on top of him, my face resting against his screen, my wings spreading out to cover us both like a blanket. He found himself listening to my soft breathing, his smirk softening into a more relaxed expression.

As the hours passed and the night slowly turned into morning, Vox continued to hold me. He wasn’t used to this level of closeness with anyone, much less a faerie, but something about me made it feel natural. Familiar? As if it was an inevitable thing, something bound to happen that he couldn’t avoid. Like coming home after a long day of work.

He watched as the first rays of sunlight began to peek through his curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. It was time to wake up, but he found himself reluctant to disturb my peaceful sleep.

(Tag list: @vvzhyxx @your-silly-vox-stan @noodlemaaaan @alexartink )

[turquoiseskye]

It’s funny how obsessed the internet is with hating gatekeeping when the internet is also full of assholes that I don’t want on my side of the gate.

[chuluoyi]

found you

- gojo satoru x reader

in a world in which he isn't the strongest and you're the high school's sweetheart, fate brought you to him once again

genre/warnings: reincarnation au, fluff/comfort

notes: a sequel to everything, but not anything

general masterlist

Everyone knows you. You hold most of the popular guys' hearts in your hand and either break them unknowingly or innocently, and despite that, they still don't have it in them to hate you.

And of course, the school's clown, Gojo Satoru, knows you too. He knows you by name and face, but never had the chance to really talk to you directly.

Why? First, he just simply didn't bother, and second, because there was already another girl plaguing him—the girl of his dreams.

And he didn't mean it figuratively... there's indeed a girl haunting him every once in a while in his dreams. A girl whose face was always obscured from his mind, whom he couldn't picture outside the realm of his slumber. Most of the time it was a happy dream, enough to bring a smile to his face every time he woke up.

But sometimes, it was the most disturbing nightmare.

There would be blood, the girl's empty eyes and still body, and him screaming out at her to not die. But then he couldn't do anything—or even see her open her eyes—as he fell into an abyss and awakened in pure terror.

Satoru was convinced someone held this massive grudge on him for pranking them that they resorted to curse him with voodoo or something. Why else would he keep having these dreams about the very same girl? It was clearly a work of something greater.

You were just not interested in romance. At least not with the guys who were after you up until now.

Or perhaps, because there was this guy in your dreams that captivated you so much that you chose to ditch those real guys for him. This imaginary person.

You were going insane. You were sure of it.

When you explained your affliction to your best friend Riko, she shot you a very bombastic side eye but tried to get you to describe the boy in your dreams regardless.

"He..." you faltered. His face was always blurry in your mind's eye. There were little things that you were sure of. "He has a really cute grin? Crinkling eyes? Like he just likes to smile?"

"Y/N, did you hear yourself?" Riko asked you incredulously. "Are you sure it isn't one of the guys in your anime shows? I'm telling you, watching them too much makes you delusional."

And so your girl talk with her ended up with her pushing you to try this hit dating app that guarantees you to go on at least one date due to its many fascinating features. You tried it on sheer whim and didn't even use your real name. You had been swiping right and left, before suddenly stopped when you saw whose profile popped up in your screen.

Gojo Satoru.

He was in your grade, and he was hard to miss. The school's biggest troublemaker who held the highest record of being sent to the disciplinary room. You never got to talk to him, and before today you were sure you wouldn't even look at him twice. So he plays these things too?

Your type definitely wasn't delinquents or attention-seekers. But why is it that the more you gaze at his profile picture—of him with this widest grin and that funny round glasses—the more you are intrigued?

In the end, you swiped right.

Just because he didn't bother to be in a serious relationship or had a girl who held onto him in his dreams, it didn't mean that he was shying away from real life girls. Satoru, as much of a headbanger as he was, was popular. Some girls were into him and he didn't exactly let his chances to fool around pass.

Girls with questionable virtues though. Suguru, whose popularity was as much as him just in the right way, would always say that his tastes were bad. Shoko would straight up mock him as a wimp, for not having the courage to go after the right girl, such as you.

And so when on one of his boring days that he played with a dating app he found a profile who swiped him right with a picture that was you but a name that wasn't, he was taken by surprise and twice as curious.

For one, he knew it was you. And hey, you were interested in him?

Satoru took up on that offer. Taking advantage of it as now he had the chance.

The two of you exchanged messages in the dating app. He'd tell you his thoughts or crack funny jokes, and you'd reply with these many laughing emojis and stickers.

Until one day, when your conversation went like this...

you: really? but girls must be lining up for you and you could've had your pick from them gojo: nah most of ‘em all boring you: what a red flag. after a while surely you'll find me boring too gojo: you? haha no. boring people don't do things you do you: ...what do you mean?

You and him had this texting thing going on for more than a month already, but you still weren't aware that he knew that it was you.

gojo: you're y/n

And he figured that it was time to go face-to-face. Because he wanted to get to know you beyond this phone screen because who knows what more you faked other than your name?

After he busted you not so gently, he demanded that you'd go on a date with him. You could only lament—you couldn't say that you hadn't seen this coming, with how poor your disguise was. Then again, did you even intend on hiding from him in the first place? Now that you thought about it, no. You were quite alright even when he knew who you were.

On the said day, just right after school ended, he went to the agreed place to take out out to a famous cafe in Shibuya. Only to find a guy from basketball team bowing his head before you.

"I really like you!" the guy declared with sincerity and steadfastly. He was tall, quite famous too. By all means, the two of you would've made a fine pair.

Satoru just frowned. Suddenly he didn't like the sight before him. This wasn't the first time he saw someone confessing their feelings for you—you were famous for that. And anyway, the two of you were just friends even though you've been texting for a long time now. He shouldn’t be upset.

"Ah," you let out a small sigh, your face lit with realization. Your voice was soft to Satoru's ears. Too soft. It resembled something someone had told him a long, long time ago.

"Don't ever leave me, okay?" "Of course."

That voice held the same softness as you did just now.

"I'm sorry," you proceeded to say, giving a look of sympathy to your admirer. "I'm very flattered, and I thank you for that. But I have no room for—"

"Y/N-chan!" Satoru didn't know where this immense impulse came from, he just went with it and it terribly spooked you. You jumped and whipped your head at him, eyes widened in total surprise.

But he merely sauntered towards you, only with his winning grin and nothing else, until he was right next to you, staring down the basketball guy with so much mirth in his blue eyes.

"Hello to you." Satoru addressed him, then put his arms on your shoulder, ignoring how you immediately stiffened. "Too bad, today she is going with me."

You couldn't believe what he just said and before you could rectify anything, the guy who just confessed to you bolted away in humiliation. You immediately untangled yourself from his arms, ready to be cross.

Or at least until you stared straight to his cerulean blue eyes.

And he too, saw his reflections in your orbs.

Suddenly everything didn't matter. You were lost into his eyes as he did yours. As the lines of dream and reality twisted and turned.

Suddenly, Satoru could put a face to the girl he'd been seeing on his nightly wonders. Her smile. Your smile.

And you could see the boy who loved you to death in him. The one who took your heart with him, and agreed to go with you for the second time.

All it took was gazing into these eyes of yours to make the connection. Everything seems right. So right.

As if the two of you are destined for this very moment. As if you’re given everything to understand why you should meet him now.

I found you.

As sudden as it came flowing to your brain—all these images that overlapped with your dreams—it ended. You came back to reality.

“You’re insufferable,” you hissed at Satoru, pushing away the fog in your mind.

“Am I?” a shit-eating grin formed at his glossy lips. “But it’s true, you’re on a date with me today.”

And so you went to your very first date. Satoru was every bit the same as the guy who messaged you on that dating app. He was outspoken, effortlessly funny, but still, a bit annoying here and there.

It was strange how comfortable you got around him, even though it was practically your first interaction.

Soon the number of dates increased. Two, three, four—and so on. Soon, everyone knows. Riko questioned you if you were sure to pick him out of all fishes you could’ve picked. In a way, you weren’t sure. It depends on this question: what are you to him anyway?

Meanwhile, on Satoru’s side, everyone either cheered for or envied him. Suguru patted him on his back, thinking he finally got the right senses. And he found himself to like you very much. He couldn’t go a day without thinking what you were doing or messing with you. You were kind, cute and pretty, and as he said it himself, he likes pretty things.

So it came as a surprise when you blurted out that burning question, sounding so unsure and overall out of your character, whereas you should already know how he put his heart on his sleeves for you to grab.

“Are you messing with me?” he gawked. But when he saw hurt crossed on your face, he was thrown into panic. “No—I mean…”

He exhaled sharply. He wasn’t used to this confessing thing at all because usually he didn’t need it.

“I really like you, okay? You do know that I like you, at the very least?”

With that, your relief was visibly palpable, like a sun that went out of its hiding. The hopeful gleam in your eyes—Gods, Satoru wanted to protect that forever.

“With that being said…” he wanted to look cool, he didn’t want to mess this up. And so he extended his hand to you, opening his palm.

“Would you go out with me?”

It was probably the first time you saw him so sincere. He was playful, flippant and overall just a menace, but when he asked you this, he looked as if he brought out his heart for you to see.

When you breathed out a “Yes”, and intertwined your fingers in his, he was over the moon, smothering you with kisses.

From that point onwards, your romance book was brimming with moments that sparkled, ranging from the sweet to the passionate. Each experience with him felt like a first, yet there was an inexplicable sense of familiarity, as if you had known him somewhere from a long time ago.

Those dreams of you and him from somewhere at another time brought the two of you together once again. With their purpose fulfilled, you no longer had to traverse the realm of dreams to be with the boy who had always provided you comfort with his presence. Likewise, he was no longer haunted by the recurring vision of you fading away before his eyes.

Because now, you and Gojo Satoru have a new life. A life where both of you can find happiness together.

[the-song-of-avernus]

It's fascinating how even though you don't always hear about \ anyone other than Astarion, every origin companion in BG3 has an endgame/epilogue state that is either outright bad for them or at the very least "not as good as they deserve".

Obvious there have been books and 100,000 pages of fic and discourse written about Ascended Astarion. In the moments when he almost acts like his old self, even then it's merely humoring you with a whim.

Mother Superior DJ Shadowheart flat out admits to severe empathy for what Viconia went through, and has fully closed herself off from any sense of attachment or feeling other than Nocturne and Tav. Her continued need to find carve-outs and exceptions and loopholes parallels Viconia's own eventual disagreements with Shar. And as we know, Shar will eventually betray or abandon her if Shadowheart doesn't betray her first. It's the story of every devout Sharran we meet.

Gale, the God is a smug arrogant hubris-ridden asshole that's even mean to Tara in the epilogue. Nearly every single sentiment he expressed about why he wanted the Crown and to ascend is immediately inverted. Of course he's not going to interfere. He's a figure of aspiration. Once he received power himself he immediately forgot and forsook everyone and everything about why he wanted it in the first place. A romanced God Gale is SLIGHTLY more grounded but that's mostly just because you ground him. And if you ascend with him, that ends that.

Lae'zel's return to Vlaakith results in her ascension, which leads to her missing the party and being very dead. The things that Lae'zel claimed to value will never truly be as long as Vlaakith rules, and her not escaping and falling back into her people's death cult robs her of the ability to create a new Gith, a better Gith.

Karlach is dead, or almost as bad, a Mind Flayer. And while most of her initial personality remains, by six months in she's already grown emotionally distant and her personality is clearly and evidently being slowly overridden by the brains of the dying she consumes. She's forsaken the embrace of death for the guise of eternal continuation in her. And even surrounded by the ten people who should mean the most in the world to her, all she mostly thinks about is others' perceptions of her (ala the Emperor) and the fact that she's hungry. Mind Flayer Karlach even notes that she used to think becoming a Mind Flayer would be the worst thing ever, but now she likes it. Shades of the Emperor x1000 and a clear sign that the Karlach we know and love is rapidly becoming a memory.

and then there's Grand Duke Wyll. On the surface, it appears the happiest of the "bad" endings, but pay attention. Note how he discusses wheeling and dealing and making agreements with patriars. (How well has contracts and deals worked out for you in the past?) Oh, and in certain conditions including romance, Wyll will offer you the chance to become a Grand Duke as well - with the others being his father (Ravengard #3) and Florrick (Wyll/Ulder's longest lasting family friend). That's not a government of the people for the people. When the power is tied up by a husband, spouse, his father, and their most trusted advisor, that's the makings of a monarchy or oligarchy. Of the type of patriar power-claim to last for generations, something Wyll himself once mocked. Oh, and if you adopt a child, then you get into the worst part of it all: Wyll's been busy running a city, and oh hey, instead of y'all bringing YOUR FOUR MONTH OLD DAUGHTER with you, hey, she'll be cool being watched by the Ilmater temple for a night right? Sorry, Wyll, were you saying something a few months ago about distant parenting? Yikes.

[pomefioredove]

You know what would be sad? If you/Yuu breaks up with Vil (or vice versa) and then runs to Rook afterwards. I wonder if Vil is going to feel betrayed again? If you could do a little scenario for this, that’d be great!

this is such a good prompt, I love rebound scenarios omg. needed this today. and here comes rook with the steel chair!!!

summary: getting dumped by vil schoenheit type of post: long fic characters: rook additional info: romantic, established relationship, vil breaks up with reader, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, kinda angsty, hahhhh, my god

"It's not personal. I just don't think it's fair to you," Vil says.

He doesn't fidget. Maintains perfect eye contact. He doesn't even try to act sorry, which, perhaps, is what stings the most.

He's supposed to be an actor, after all.

That's what this is all about.

"You must have always known this was a possibility," he says. "My schedule is getting busier, I simply don't... want to push you away."

Each word is spoken with a honeyed softness, as if he's trying to cushion the blows. It doesn't help.

Your heart thuds in your chest, your eyes burn. This is the worst thing you've ever experienced. You would take a thousand overblots over this. Any day.

What a bitter sentiment.

"You don't mean to push me away. What is this, then?"

A look of guilt finally crosses Vil's face, cracking the mask of professionalism he'd been hiding behind. It offers little comfort.

His brow furrows, and he sighs. "A preventative measure. It would hurt more if I'd waited,"

A million questions fly through your mind, faster than you can catch them. You want to shout, to tell him exactly how he's making you feel, to ask him who he thinks he is- but all you can manage is a stare.

He frowns, extending a hand as if to caress your face, but you turn on your heels and leave before he has the chance.

You wouldn't sit there and let him make a fool of you any longer.

You had become comfortable with the Pomefiore dorm in the past few months, but today, its elegance feels suffocating. The white and gold decor seems to mock you, every vase of perfect flowers laughing at your imperfection as you pass them by.

It hurts.

Stings, burns, makes you feel like you're drowning in a sea of perfume, choking on lilac and rose. Has the air here always been so sickeningly sweet?

There's still a lingering part of you that wants to run back to him, to beg, to negotiate, but you know he's right. You hate that he's right.

This... whatever it was... wouldn't last.

And you'd always known it.

---

How does one recover from being dumped by Vil Schoenheit?

Short answer: you can't.

You can wallow all you want, drowning yourself in the unhealthy foods he forbade you from eating, skipping the classes he'd so encouraged you to excel in, and using cheap tissues on your formerly-perfect skin, but that doesn't change a thing.

Perhaps if it hadn't been so public, you might have pulled yourself together sooner. But the very second all of your pictures were gone from his profile, everyone knew.

On some nights, you'd torture yourself by reading the thirsty comments from desperate fans under his latest posts, all of them pointing out his recent singleness. You would wonder to yourself if you had sounded that pathetic when you were dating Vil.

Just another hopeless, desperate fan, hoping for a piece of him.

People on campus avoided you. Not out of fear, but pity, a lack of knowing what to say. How do you even comfort someone after this?

It was like having an open wound on full display. No matter how you tried to bandage it, it kept bleeding through.

Even Grim was keeping his distance.

What little comfort came in the form of an anonymous knight in shining armor. Roses left at your doorstep, letters of love and encouragement on your assigned seats, little baskets full of your favorite foods and trinkets on your kitchen table...

You would have questioned it if you were not so consumed by your grief. At least the mystery offered a distraction.

"Another one," Ace comments, pulling a letter off your chair before you can sit on it. "Whoever this guy is, he's slick."

He hands you the letter, which you gracefully accept.

Deuce watches cautiously. "And you're sure it's not just... some kinda of prank, right? I've known my fair share of nasty types, this could be a trick."

"Too much effort," you shake your head. "I mean, whoever this is is spending a lot of time and money cheering me up. Not to mention... I've tried looking up some of these poems, and no matches. They're originals."

You wave around the letter in hand, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Though, I'm sure whoever's doing it is just being nice,"

"Nice. Right," Ace rolls his eyes. "Cause I know like, a million teenage boys who are just dying to write poetry for their friends."

Even Deuce snickers at that. You roll your eyes.

"Point taken. I guess I just can't believe that anyone would want me after..." you pause. There's no pleasant way to put it, so you let Ace and Deuce fill in the blanks.

"Hey, Vil is a jerk. He doesn't deserve you," Deuce says. "And trust me, if I ever catch him disrespecting you again-"

Ace scoffs. "Woah, there, tiger. Calm down. Vil could kick your ass and we all know it,"

"He really was something, wasn't he?" you sigh, slumping in your seat. Ace and Deuce give each other a panicked look.

"We didn't mean-"

"No, I get it," you say, reaching down to the floor in an attempt to touch your toes. Vil had told you that little exercises help calm the nerves. You hate how you still need his advice.

"Oh, hey, look," you sit back up, another pink envelope in hand. "Another one."

---

There's something about these gifts that doesn't sit right with you.

Each one is arranged to perfection, obviously crafted by a very thoughtful individual, just personal enough to suit your tastes but distant all the same.

It's almost as if the sender is holding something back.

But, not today.

You're greeted by a trail of rose petals leading up to Ramshackle's front door, which itself is ajar. Not uncommon, considering Grim's inability to take care of the makeshift dorm, but with the scent of roses and the candlelight inside, you know it's something more.

You walk in, setting your things aside, and continue following the path of petals into the kitchen, where a rickety wooden table has been set for two.

You, however, are the only one in the room.

"Hello?" you ask, turning in circles. The space is empty, save for a small letter on one of the chairs.

Beautiful,

A little bird told me you doubt the intentions of my admiration. I must amend that immediately, and I see no better way than to say it myself.

Yours truly.

"Trickster," a familiar voice comes from the doorway behind you, and you whirl around to face your admirer.

"Rook!" you gasp, clutching the letter to your chest.

He beams in response. "Oui, c'est moi. Though I was so enjoying the mystery, I feel it's time I made my intentions clear. Sit, please,"

You don't hesitate to follow his suggestion (the surprise left your knees feeling weak, anyway), and he joins you in the adjacent seat.

"But what-"

"Please," he says, holding a finger to your lips to shush you. "Let me start. I first want to say that I have meant every single word, in song and ink, that I have given to you. My heart is true."

Your mind is overflowing with questions, none of which he seems keen on answering in full just yet.

"I have spent the past several months allowing our Beautiful Vil to woo you. I have so enjoyed watching your love blossom from afar, despite my own feelings towards you. But things have changed," Rook says.

"For as much as I love him, this was his own doing. He has made a fatal mistake, one which cannot be undone- he has wounded you, mon amour, in a most vulnerable fashion. Months ago, when we both realized our feelings for you, I willingly stepped aside," he says. "I thought Vil would be the best option for you. I thought I was not ready to commit myself. Now I see what a mistake that was, and I hope you might find it within yourself to forgive me..."

You can only stare back. "Rook..."

"I cannot resent our Roi du Poison for his choice, for it's his to make. But he hurt you dearly, and in the process, he has relinquished his claim on you. I know your wound is still fresh. But, please, Mon Trickster, mon véritable amour, be mine?"

You're silent for a moment, processing every detail of what he said, what he's offering...

He's right. The wound Vil created is still open, and despite the weeks of "recovery", had yet to improve.

If you kept waiting for it to heal, perhaps it never would.

You nod. "Okay. Okay! But-! Let's take it slow, okay?"

Rook just barely manages to stop himself from leaping across the table to take your hands into his, and he reaffirms your request with a nod.

"Of course, mon cœur. What is a hunter if not patient?"

---

Pomefiore is beautiful again.

There are still times where you swear you can see Vil staring at the two of you, a look of discontent on his face, from across the room.

He doesn't utter a word about the way Rook has his arm over your shoulder, or the many terms of endearment he uses on you, though he doesn't have to. The lingering guilt and regret has made a home for itself in Vil Schoenheit.

You're sure Rook has noticed by now, too, although this isn't the first time he's pulled something like this on the housewarden without a second thought, and it likely won't be the last.

Perhaps it's for the better.

[hyhkai]

∾ manwhore, mansplain, manipulate | sb

[ 🐬 ] — after having the displeasure of meeting the most annoying, son of a- nevermind, mansplaining cockalorum of your college, who you couldn't have figured to be the pervert type, and who you realize is also a dunce after he won't leave you alone though your annoyance was always written on your face, it's clear, it's obvious he'll only get shoo'ed away at one cost. or at least you think he will, since you've had enough of his bitchy attitude.

cw : PUBLIC, arguing, annoying clingy soobin, soobin's personality in this is quite the opposite from his real one, handjob, degrading crazy amounts.

a/n ; DO BLEACHERS EVEN HAVE SPACES BEHIND THEM, in this they do I couldn't care less, fuck, the title is the male version of gaslight gatekeep girlboss, and I totally made this plot on the spot while writing please.

you almost slammed the pen down onto the desk in a class so quiet that you could hear the clock ticking if paid attention to enough, looking behind after soobin poked at your back for the third time this class. "what. just what is it that you want from me?"

"nothing." he said, placing his head down on his own desk. those eyes may be doe, but they're like a siren to fucking run.

this is the kind of boy who makes you feel special, then ghosts you.

the cute kind of those, too.

"then don't poke me like that" you mumbled, turning your head ahead. you swear if it was possible for you to punch him if he even tried to talk to you during this class again, you would.

he's always been so... desperate, it's that he wants something from you but won't say it out loud, won't use his calculated words.

"y/n," to which he got no response, so he resorted to shaking your chair.

"what the f-" you looked back at him, a look of disappointment, anger and annoyance all over. "fuck you."

"I wish." he mumbled, looking into your eyes with no regret of what he just said.

"oh, wow." you said, and smiled without wanting to. "you're crazy."

"i know, right?" he shook his head in sarcastic thought. "I am kind of crazy."

"now please if you stay quiet, l could pay attention." and to your surprise, he stayed quiet throughout the entirety of what was left of the class. no poking, no chanting your name like a mantra. but it was not a reaction you'd usually get from soobin, he's always been the guy to fuck around with no remorse. and that is, very obvious, he is a dunce.

he's dunce enough to not even realize he is one.

class done, bag packed — you just wanted to get out and go back to your house, eat and sleep like you'd usually do, or like to do. but, alas, there was one thing hindering your peace and happiness — choi soobin. this one heck of a man who would fuck any object that is a good fleshlight alternative, a man who'd be happy from just fingering you.

and that, to you, is a problem.

how can a guy, with a face like that — a build like that, keep on poking and poking and poking at you until you've had enough and slap him across the face, just to get off on it? it's asinine.

so when you're walking out of the building, annoyed that your bag's strap keeps falling off your shoulder — and you spot him on the bleachers, there's one thing you make a mental note of.

change your route to the exit, please.

he almost jumped three stairs down when he saw you, lollipop clung onto his mouth's roof as he swirled it around.

"hey!" he lifted his hand in the air as a way of waving at you.

the loser's back at it again.

you didn't even look, didn't even glance at his figure that can only be described as perfect as he grabbed your bag. it got snatched right away because of just how loose you kept it on your shoulders.

"i said hey." he said again, looking at your exasperated, pretty face when you turned around.

"give that back, loser." you retorted, turning around, your head tilting forward with every word.

"sorry, what?" he said, putting a hand behind his ear to hear you better.

the fucker is now mocking your height? he is mocking your height? him?

"i said, give that back." you said, closing your eyes for a while so you can imagine smacking his face. "give me my bag back."

he laughed at your demands, looking in the direction of the building and right back at you.

"no"

you didn't realize before this that a single word can also hold so much meaning and depict just how much of an absolute motherfucker a man can be.

"no? no?! seriously?!" you looked up at his face that was only giving you realization after realization that he's a slutty bitch. "what do you want from me?"

he suckled on his candy for a while, looking as if in deep thought. but to no surprise with his next statement. "not much, really."

oh really now? not much? it's so obvious since the day he saw you, that in his mind he thought it won't be long until he's going to have you in his lap. is that not too much to ask for?

"just a bit of your time, is all." he continued, looking at the badges pinned on the front of your bag.

“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You're such a cunt!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating he's being. with the amount of cockiness he thinks he's so cool to be binding his personality with, you could beat him up with no regrets. "what do you want from me?! attention? tutoring? pussy?—"

"yeah."

"what?" your face contorted when he responded to the word that was merely a mockery of his wants and needs. "huh." you clicked your tongue. of course your assumptions about him only wanting to get his fill were true.

you grabbed his arm and pushed him further back, until the two of you were behind the bleachers. he didn't react to your very aggressive methods of traveling until you stopped.

"what the fuck are you doin—" he attempted at a protest as he dropped your bag to the ground, but was ultimately shut up with you pulling his head down vehemently and crashing your lips against his, and even though you're the one who initiated the kiss, his response is more enthusiastic than any guy you've ever gotten with — and it's so sloppy, it's unexpected from a boy with lips as plush as his.

maybe it's wrong to do this, maybe it's right, but it's the only way to stop this boy who's been wanting to fuck you for months now. "is this what you wanted? huh?" you asked, looking up at him, his locks of hair between your fingers as he looked at you with lips parted. you took advantage of his state, putting your thumb in his mouth, pressing against his tongue.

"hng—" his hand, as if by ultra instinct, crawled to your waist. maybe it's a form of affection, or maybe he's a desperate slut. "who told you you could touch me with your crusty hands?"

he sucks and licks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue swirl…fuck, how badly did you misread him? he's liking it?

he couldn't respond, this wasn't the way he'd expected to end up today at all — but hey, he isn't complaining. you rubbed your knee against his crotch, pinning him against the back of the bleachers.

please, someone don't be here.

"keep your mouth open." he was holding back his urge to bite down onto your thumb, as the stiffness of his body finally gave out and he stood straight up. you fed him your index finger, pressing your knee against his crotch again, rubbing as your brain went airplane mode. this isn't the best way to stop his bullshit, no, but you like it this way. him, on the other hand? he loves it this way, the slut is just too shy to admit it.

"awh, the manwhore is too shy to talk back now?" you pulled your fingers out, bubbles and strings of saliva on the pads of your fingers when your hands slipped into his pants after unzipping them, and you felt just how horny he can get in a span of a few minutes. he's enjoying this.

"um, so— holy shit— wh—” hes stumbling over his words. his hands are limp to protest against you, and his cock is too hard for him to protest against you.

you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you from above, with those god damn pretty eyes.

"shut up. just shut up. i bet you jerk off your stupid dick all night thinking about me, fucking whore."

his eye twitched at the statement, but he still does. "please fuck me." he requested while being muffled and jumbled.

"I am," you said as a matter of fact, tugging at his cock slowly. "I'm touching you, soobin."

"but, not completely." and this just showed how much of a demanding brat he is, not satisfied with the bare minimum friction he's getting.

"tch, tch, such a desperate man. aren't you happy a girl like me is touching your disgusting dick?" pressing your thumb on his tip to which his eye twitched, trying to grab your wrist to stop the pressure.

You could feel his breath on your neck—hot and heavy, which makes you feel things, to your demise — makes you wet, as you moved his hand out of the way for you, and after slight resistance, he pathetically lets you, followed by a whimper following shortly after when you start to slowly palm him. The moment you feel it twitched, you halt your movement, removing your hand from his crotch all together.

"h-hah.. h-huh? yeahh... yeah— fuck, please please, touch it properly, please—" he finally broke, letting out a whine he wishes you didn't hear, but judging by the smirk on your face, you definitely did. and it was hot— fuck, it was the sexiest thing he's ever done.

"ugh, I don't have all day for this." you shook your head, stretching the waistline of his bottoms forward and shoving you hands down again.

"holy fuuccck." he whispered, marvelling at the touch of your nails on the underside of his tip.

you twisted your hand as you jerked at his tip, causing his knees to bend an inch and his hips to buckle, closing his eyes shut. "shut the fuck up, soobin. don't need any student hearing you getting your cock jerked off, do we?" to which he mindlessly nodded, his head thrown back against the harsh metal that's probably heated up from the summer rays.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed under his breath, head tilting side to side every now that then, his chest heaving up and down. you squeezed his dick with your palm, causing his eyelids to squeeze. this sight has your panties in a bunch, but you can't show him that.

you press harder, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears turning red and heated. you looked down at the sight of your hands shoved down his denims. "hah, do you not know when to stop annoying a girl? when to quit with your antics, and be a good boy? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding his desire to be degraded that you're sure he has from the way he's reacting.

"is this— fuck, h-hah, is this the way you put all annoying guys in their place?" he questioned, managing to flutter his eyes open. he looked at you from the corner of his eye, trying to hide his face that was turning pink.

you laughed at the question, still looking down, index finger nudging his balls. "maybe it is. will that stop you from being an absolute annoying slut? will it?"

he couldn't respond, of course he couldn't — he's busy marvelling at the feeling of your warm, soft hands so all he could do was shake his head vehemently in a no.

what a slut!

"of course it wouldn't, pathetic whores like you only think from their dicks. you're a shameless bitch, soobin."

he couldn't protest, couldn't respond to the insults thrown at him — he's breathing is so messed up now his back is rubbing up and down the metal. "I'm gonna— I'm—" and he came in his pants, which will surely be a disaster for him to wash out afterwards.

you pulled your hand out, disguising your arousal with disgust at the sight of cum on your fingers, which you scrubbed off on the pockets of his pants, lifting your bag off the ground and throwing it on your shoulder. "keep being annoying."

i can write a whole fic explaining why I should give up on writing. okay goodbye. thank you for reading my garbage <3

[miss-daisy04]

skz - dirty thoughts

hey guys i hope you enjoy this! it's really shitty w/ all the members cause imma go to bed, and i don't wanna proof read, love you!

minors do not interact/read/go below lines.

warnings: sex, oral (m. and f. receiving), hickeys, toys, mean words, temp play, ice, wax, riding, car sex, public sex (?), love making, aphrodisiac, moaning, etc.

CHAN who pulls your hair back into a makeshift ponytail when you are giving him head. as he shoves his cock further into your mouth, the deep gagging noise reflects off of the back of your throat. the surprisingly lewd noises departing from you both turn him on even more. secretly, bangchan enjoys it when you slowly graze his dick with your teeth, the pleasure comes within the pain. gently grasping his balls while he cums down your throat, making you swallow every last drop. chan won't tell you, but he wants you (while he's cumming) to take his length out of your mouth and fist him while leaving hickeys down his v-line and around his thighs.

MINHO who will tie you up until you're being a good girl again. he'll only tease you until you can utter the words along the line of, "i'm sorry for being a brat," or "please i won't do it again.." the cold, tight, metal handcuffs are worn out, and he's used them a lot, but they still work as good as new (just a bit painful). minho owns multiple toys. a wooden and leather paddle, both used for harsh punishments, a silicone whip, for days he feels like it, and numerous vibrators. he has at least one in every shape and size. although sex with him is rough, aftercare is the complete opposite. since he knows beating people up/hitting people/etc. isn't as fun when receiving it, he makes sure to get your opinion particularly if you are quiet.

CHANGBIN who gains pleasure from watching you attempt to ride him. considering every time you plant yourself on his thick penis, it immediately hits your g-spot. the overstimulation mixed with his mocking words sends you into overdrive. yet, binnie won't let you get off of him until you have successfully ridden him. even if that means he's holding onto your waist for dear life, continuously bouncing you up and down. if you really wanna tease him, rock your hips back and forth, or squirm around, he can't last very long in those situations, he'll bust right away. changbin is also a BIG eye-contact person. if you can't hold eye contact, this man will sense it and make you. he finds it cute when you get embarrassed and look away.

HYUNJIN who would die to have car sex. the half-tinted back windows aren't stopping him. because we all know one thing about hyunjin, he gets what he wants exactly when he wants it. no condom, no lube, and he could go forever. one downside is that it is most likely his car and he'll have to clean it off later. his sex drive is naturally high so when he popped the question of car sex, it wasn't a marvel. the fast-paced music blasting through the speakers along with his even faster thrusts easily sends him over. the thought of people seeing you two doing the act is so devious, which is why he likes it. what if chan walked in on the two of you? what if he wanted to join? what if hyunjin said yes?

JISUNG who (i know ppl say this a lot but i can't stress it enough) gives the most godly head. this bitch could stay between there all day like your pussy is his shelter during a thunderstorm. he kisses, blows, sucks, fingers, and bites your coochie while simultaneously reaching his hands up to play with your already hard nipples (+ if you have nipple piercings). before you know it, he'll carefully slip his tongue into your cunt, already drenched in your juices and jisung's saliva, easily slipping in and out before resuming with his fingers. face-sitting this man would go CRAZY. i know his ass is gasping for air while saying he can take your weight, but in a good way cause he's too absorbed in your perfect pussy.

FELIX who would do shit with temp play. felix would take one of the ice cubes he got from the freezing dispenser, put it into his mouth, and let it thaw a little bit before he rests his on his tongue (he's laying with his back to the bed), and you sit on his face while the ice cube slowly melts on it due to the heat and pressure of your aching cunt. he has also experimented with heat play, and wax to be straightforward. it started as the shoulders and your back but slowly turned into the inner thighs and stomach. most commonly, felix will blindfold and tie you up, so you can't run away. not that you would, (not him), but he doesn't want to risk it.

SEUNGMIN who makes you play the game of "who will be the first bitch", in which you both eat aphrodisiac chocolate and see who can last the longest without touching/thinking/looking at each other. whoever wins gets to do whatever they want that night. in his favor, he usually chooses doggy style or any position that is new to him and he'd like to try out. on days he wins he rarely is the sub, since on the days you win, you put him in the place of a poor puppy disobeying its owner. a tight chain wrapped around his neck, not allowed to speak, only moan, bark, etc.. although he finds it humiliating, he is fond of the thought that you think of him as one.

JEONGIN who decides every once in a while to make love. jeongin's personality screams dom with high-pitched moans, but when he feels in the mood, he's nice for once. passionately, he'll take you into his arms and caress every curve that your body is made of. words of affirmation spilling out of his mouth. BUT, don't believe you get off just like that, he needs it too, so don't forget about him. on the flop side, jeongin's personality whispers whiny little sub. if you make love to him during that era of him, you're not making it out alive. his poor dick had been milked so much he was practically crying from overstimulation. give him the best aftercare i beg.

i hope you enjoyed it! if you did, please show admiration of my work by liking/reblogging/sharing/commenting! it really shows me how i am doing as a writer ♡

[aguineapigcouldntdothis]

yall goyim need to understand that antisemitism isnt just people being mean online and Ms. JK transphobia rowling having antisemitic tropes in her books. This is shit that happens online of course, just like any other form of bigotry, but it also happens to us in real life. antisemitic incidents can include, but arent limited to:

Defacing jewish symbols

Grafitti of antisemitic symbols

Insults appearances

Using antisemitic slurs

Stalking

Workplace discrimination

Housing discrimination

Education discrimination

Discrimination in mental health spaces

Discrimination in physical health spaces

General attacks on synagogues, chabad centers, and other jewish gatherings

Increased attacks on jewish gatherings during the high holidays

Bomb threats

Shooting threats (this may be a USA specific one if it is please let me know)

Sexual harassment

Sexual assault

Rape

Stabbings

Beatings

Bullying (physical, emotional, sexual)

Abuse (physical, emotional, sexual)

Being called pedophiles, rapists, baby killers, nazis, etc. (simply for being jewish not because we have shown any signs we are those things)

Insults based on various antisemitic tropes (blood libel, dual loyalty, Jews controlling the world, etc.)

doxxing

threatening family members and friends

property damage

a lot of other physical violence I didn't mention

targeting of jewish community leaders (esp rabbis)

isolation from the goyische world

chased out of our homes

forcing jews to assimilate

murder

desecrating jewish graves

mocking jews who have died

refusing to believe jewish victims of sexual assault

kidnapping

and probably more that i forgot! if you have anything to add and you're jewish pls do so

these are not rare occurences at all. I have had well over half of these happen to me personally or to a jew that i am very very close to, and I at least distantly know another jew who has experienced one of the others. This is a fucking terrifying thing to deal with and yall don't need to get it but you need to try to understand how bad it can get for us

[creepy-friday]

PLS PLS PLS I NEED MORE PROXY THINGS I KEEP REREADING THE OLD ONES AND U WRITE SO WELL

Sure thing!I noticed a lot of people are rereading the old ones so I promise I will come back with more ideas!

Female!Proxy toughts Headcanons for every creep of the mansion

Warnings: foul language, suggestive themes, violence

Masky thinks he should've been in your place.He wants your attention but at the same time hates your guts.Always wants to pick a fight with you,maybe he's in such a contradiction with himself because your personality softened his sharp edges making him confused.

Hoodie acts all buddy-buddy with you when the two of you aren't on duty.He doesn't hide the way the tension rises from other people's perspective when he talks to you.He's simply curious about who you truly are,an individual like you in such a fucked up place and in such a high position is..intriguing to say at least.

Toby follows your orders and values your presence the most out of the other proxies he's biased. Because he's been taken advantage of many times,your humanity sparked his hope,he thinks that in you he can actually find something heart warming in this hell hole.

Cody is a little annoying at times.Since you didn't shove him off he deeply thinks you're into him,that's why he keeps on inviting you to see the dangerous shit he's creating.

Kate uses every chance she has to imply that you have sexual relationships with the proxies.She's isn't jealous nor wants to take your place,she simply sees herself as slightly superior since she's been here before you.

Jeff has personal issues with every resident near him,including you.He doesn't think of himself as highly as Masky tough.All the mocking and tantrums are because he doesn't belive your good intentions.

Ben is a fucking menace and fucks with your head since he knows you can't physically hurt him.He thinks you're by far the most interesting creep to watch.

EJ respects you.He thinks that you are disgusted by him almost as he is of himself given your role as a demon hunter.His insecurity made him give up any reason to try to talk to you.Watching from afar he knows you're one of the few residents that are still human by heart.

Liu has a very high opinion about yourself.You already proved to be a good person to him when you took EJ's side in an argument with Masky.He would make conversation with you whenever you two are around.

Sully might act like Liu around you so that he can see more of you.Just like other creeps,he fantasies about having a hand to hand spare with you.He talks to you like you're a pice of meat sometimes but he acknowledges your strength.

Slenderman's presence is being known by his general sickness to the other creeps but the fever is high and tormenting when it comes to you.It's clear that he favors you and the fact that he chose you as his watchdog is enough to bring your confidence skyrocket.

Jane watches you from afar.She thinks you're a good fit to be a leader.Surprisingly,she agreed with your every decision and never had anything to add or to take.

Zero is jealous of you and your high status.She despises your guts and would team up with anyone to put you down or to shame you.She's a bitch but I bet she would fuck you tough.She's the "do I want to be her or be with her?"

Clockwork likes how a woman is top shit and she treats you as an equal.Might ask you for your opinion and expects you to listen to hers as well.She thinks you're a good leader.

Nina adores you.You genuinely had a good impact on her mental health and looks up to you.She would be shocked if you would hurt her in any way,after everything she went trough all she needs is a friend.The choice is yours.

Sally thinks that you are really cool and wishes you would take that mask off more often.Since you don't brush her off like the others she's looking forward to talk to you when you're not busy.Confidently slips tea parties invites down your door.

Bloody Painter is mostly indifferent to the power dynamics in the mansion.Sure,he will be respectful to you since that's in his personality but he's apathetic to anything that isn't "aesthetically pleasing".He judges a book by its cover and the ghoul-like design on your mask makes him believe you're no different from the creatures you encounter in the forest.Misunderstanding at its best

[asuyaka]

It is currently 3AM for me rn so apologies in advance if this looks like it was typed by a drunk person,

I've had this idea at random, but I'd like to request Teen!Gojo with Male!Reader(who Gojo has a fat crush on) who is very physically affectionate and by the power of plot armor has the a ability to break through Gojo's infinity. And so he uses this power, not to beat the living shit out of Gojo but rather to sneak behind him and either give him bear hugs from behind or tickle his sides whenever he isn't looking.

★ - Thank you for requestin' anon !! 'm in love with this concept s'muchhh!

☆ - Teen! Gojo Satoru x Plot armored! Male Reader (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

You,—contrary to popular belief— weren't a strong sorcerer.

At least not compared to the almighty Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru. The strongest sorcerers of the modern era.

Though, there is one thing about your technique that could easily make you one of the strongest. If you trained and worked with it, but that's too much work.

Your technique was sort of like Shoko's. RCT, but you had better control of it due to constant training when you were young.

So, what does a young teenager, whose bored out of his mind, do at times like these?

Stifling a giggle, you channel your cursed energy on your hands, sneaking up behind Gojo who was too busy arguing with Geto about something.

You pass through Infinity easily, grabbing Gojo by the waist, picking him up, and twirling him around. "Hi, Gojo!!"

Gojo yelps in surprise. It isn't every day—scratch that— no-one was able to get through Infinity unless he lets them. No-one except for the person holding him, who as much as he denies, has a fat, big, huge, ginormous, and massive crush on.

"[Name], it's great to see you," Geto says sharing a knowing and mocking look at Gojo, who is desperately trying to calm himself.

You keep your hands on Gojo's waist, peeking your head through the crook of the albino's neck. "Do you know when that crepe store down the street opens?

"Uhm... it opens tomorrow at 3," Gojo mutters as he pushes his glasses further up his face to hopefully hide the increasing blush on his face.

[Name] giggles happily, spinning Gojo around a few more times. "We should go when it does! It'll be like a nice little get-together!"

Geto snorts. "Ah, I won't be able to go and Shoko is... being Shoko. You and Satoru should go together don't you think?"

Gojo snaps his head up glaring daggers into his friend's eyes. He knew exactly what Geto was trying to plan, and [Name] being the absolute angel he is—

"Yeah, that sounds fun!! Just me 'n you, right Gojo?"

—agrees without a second thought.

[Name]'s hands move from his waist to his torso, a scheming smile on his face.

"[Name] don't. I swear to—"

Gojo interrupts himself with a loud laugh his hands on [Name]'s wrist, his glasses falling onto his nose as he shakes his head frantically. "S-stop it! Suguru! Do s-soemthing!"

Geto raises his hands up defensively. "Hear no evil, see no evil."

"[N-Name!] St- ah! Stop ittttt!!" Gojo's eyes are brimming with tears now, his chest heaving and his body convulsing. He hates being tickled, mostly because his body is so damn sensitive due to Infinity.

But [Name] just... God he doesn't know where to start.

You let go of his torso with a bright smile your hands immediately settling back on his waist. You were a big physical touch person if that wasn't already obvious.

"We're gonna have so much fun on this date, Gojo!"

Geto laughs at his friend's expense who was blushing. Like, whole body blushing.

Gojo swallows thickly, forcing himself to remember it was a friend date. They were just friends.

Only friends.

Fuck, he was in love with this idiot.

"Y-yeah. We'll have fun without Suguru!" Gojo is quick to regain his normal attitude. Well, as normal as it can be with the man he swears he's going to spend his life with nuzzling his neck, talking with Suguru about something he couldn't care any less about.

"I'm glad I'm not coming. I know you'll have a fun time, [Name]. Satoru has quite the surprise for you." Geto teases, drawing an air heart between the two.

"Suprise? What suprise?"

Gojo blushes it feels like his skin is going to melt off. "Nothing! Suguru is making stuff up!"

"Mhm. Sureeee."

[Name] presses into Gojo's cheek. "C'mon tell me!"

Gojo glares at his friend who just shrugs.

So much for being his best friend.

[pink-key]

How would Toby be with a romantic partner if he ever entered a relationship (like would he be toxic/romantic/etc??)

This will be long, buckle up, as I want to tackle multiple questions.

This is an x y/n headcanons visual thing.

Warning: Terrible writing. Might be slightly dark. Very very long

Firstly, all depends on the closeness you have with Toby.

🍨 Plaything

🍰 Congratulations, you got him interested in you. Maybe it's your overly humorous reaction to him running after you, while he was chaotically swinging his hatchets. Maybe you had a drastically different reaction to his previous victims.

🍰 Either way, he loves tormenting you; his morals are either absent or corrupt. He likes to scare you, looking into your window to your room at night, laughing and rambling nonsense once you notice him (doesn't matter which floor you live on; he can climb). He can inflict some minor or not so pain on you, especially during his episodes, from randomly swinging his weapons in anger or excitement to pushing you around. There is no particular aim in that; he just feels like it, or his mind is fogged by voices and emotions.

🍰 Contrary to popular belief, he isn't shy, he isn't easily embarrassed. He is loud, obnoxious; he will make his opinions known to you; he will comment on anything you do or any of your clothes, personal belongings, even your family. He is here to have fun, not to worry about your feelings. As long as you entertain him, he will keep you alive, driving you to madness.

🍰 He can and will find you anywhere, will make you look like an insane person to other people. He is good at hiding and is skilled at hurting physically and emotionally from a distance (throwing a rock in the head, displacing objects in the room to make one paranoid, etc.). A 2-meter-tall stalker running around with two axes after you? You're hilarious, y/n!

Coincidentally, his boss doesn't order him to kill you; maybe you don't disturb his work much, after all, he doesn't visit you all the time (his life doesn't revolve around you). Just the least when you expect him.

🍰Telling him he is disgusting or commenting his mental issues will result in an instant end, unless he would want to play a chasing game in the forest with you before that.

🍰 If you have an S/O, he will mock you for choosing such a pitiful person as a partner. Just hope he won't involve your S/O in your little games. He doesn't care about your personal life, but he sure knows how dear this relationship is to you.

🍨 "We are buddies, r-right?"

🍰 You somehow managed to survive his attacks, random outbursts, mood swings, threats and, for some reason, decided to befriend him.

Honestly, being his friend is the healthiest you can get and keep bits of your private space at the same time.

🍰 He, despite being insane, brainwashed, and amnesiac, starts to see you more than just an amusement park attraction as a cute little pet, not really an equal. Your relationship is a bit more than him having a blast using physical or mental torture on you. Your presence and personality are also fun, who knew?!

🍰 Maybe, would EVEN feel a slight parody of pity for you. Especially if you tell him your sad stories of your life. He is terrible at comforting, but if the stars align right, he can play his favorite cassettes to you with cheery songs or try to make jokes, but don't expect that to happen every time. Maybe a pat on the head would happen, usually, he would tell you to stop being sad as there are worse things to cry about.

🍰 He teases you and pranks you a lot. Doesn't matter what state you are in.

🍰 His idea of friendship is a bit twisted. You won't mind that he will destroy your belongings if he finds them annoying, right? You are friends! Friends don't hold grudges against each other! Or if he would hurt your family members or friends because they said or did something that triggered his aggression, right? Friends forgive each other! You don't mind sharing everything with him, from food to information, because friends don't keep secrets from each other!

🍰 There is a good part to this relationship. He is kinder to you. Perhaps, would bring you a cute little trinket or object stained in blood. Friends make gifts for each other! He would appreciate it if you would give him something. Be careful what you give him, as he interprets your gifts in his own way. New hoodie? Are you implying his tastes are bad? Are you mocking him?

🍰 This is also where you can shape your friendship into a seemingly normal one. Food is a safe option. Learn what he likes to convey to him that you care about him. The man needs kindness deep inside. It will confuse him; he might get angry at you, at the world without understanding why, but the long-term result is worth the risk.

🍰 If you are in danger, he might save you. Although you will bear the guilt of some hooligans being either deadly hurt or dead.

🍰 He is also more open to you. You can hold small conversations with him, discussing music, for example. However, if he is in one of his episodes or even just mood swings, he can snap, shout at you or just be mad at you for an unknown reason, while rambling something incomprehensible and leave you alone for a week or more. Violence isn't completely off the table either.

🍰 If you have an S/O (or just hangs out with friends), He can get jealous because you don't pay attention to him at that exact moment. He isn't always jealous, just sometimes. If he is in a terrible mood, might even hurt your S/O, he isn't shy at that stage to involve anyone in the mess. He can complain about your S/O. It's not advised to dispute him, as he can get angry at you. You are his friend! Why are you fighting him?

🍨 Obsessive

🍰 After a lot of talking, gifts and, if you were bold enough, light friendly physical touch, he is feeling smitten by you.

🍰 You notice weird signs of attention from him, he makes some sort of romantic gestures, but it comes off as creepy to you. For instance, he thought a fur coat is what you would like, but he didn't realise you need to work on the fur instead of giving it bloody to you.

🍰 He doesn't understand himself, his voices aren't helping him either, he is feeling hate then sickly love from one second to another. If he thinks too much about that, he twitches and tics more than usual, especially in your presence. He is more distant; he doesn't respond to you. He just sits there, shifting his eyes without focusing on anything, occasionally roughly turning to one of his auditory hallucinations.

🍰 You don't understand his ramblings or whispers, and now they are more disjointed than ever. He avoids you for a few months or even more. It worries you more than him being around you, as you're used to his presence by now. Who knows, maybe he got bored with you and just contemplates how brightly he could end your life.

🍰 He can't run from his feelings forever. As a snow during summer, he busts into your house and just dumps all his thoughts on you—just an incomprehensible jumble. You won't understand it right away until he grabs you by the shoulders and forces you into an embrace, then pushes you away, twitching, staring into your soul, waiting for your response. He doesn't say, but he already knows how you feel, even if he lies to himself. He is attentive and sensitive to human emotions, and he reads body language quite well.

🍰 You have a choice. If you deny his love, either one of things will happen. You die because he feels like it. You don't like him, if he kills you, he kills his feelings for you at the same time. Yet, there is a slim chance he can just forcefully make you like him, can lead to kidnapping, but you won't love him that way either, he would realize that, that's not right, and you are also dead in this scenario.

🍰 If you lie and accept his feelings, you won't last long, either. He notices all the slight restless movements around him, your discomfort, the way you look at him. He hates liars, so it's best to be honest and die quickly rather than slowly.

🍰 If you have a strong, twisted friendship and you learn how to talk to him, how to act when he is difficult to interact with, and you just find him with his bouquet of disorders and trauma charming in his own way, then you don't need to say much to him.

🍰 He doesn't know anything about relationships. He can come off as toxic, as his jealousy flies from low to high in a matter of moments. He is still a snappy, angry, insane serial killer, he just now sometimes apologizes if he was too rude to you. More gifts too, woo-hoo!

🍰 He is obsessive, but that also depends on a lot of circumstances. He wants to be around you as much as possible. Just your presence gives him some sort of emotional bliss when his thoughts are a bit less loud than usual. At the same time, his thoughts are chaotic and get under his skin, and he can disappear for some time. Or one of your words can trigger him; he can be violent or distant.

🍰 Dates with him are attempts to replicate what he sees in movies. He watched whatever old VHS he found in abandoned cabins or houses in the woods, so it's pretty vanilla and traditional, dare I say: eating ice cream together, watching movies, slowly dancing to some old music. He uses old pickup lines too if he feels particularly spicy.

🍰 He isn't touchy. He is touchy unless there is a sinister goal in mind or he wants to be annoying. Toby subconsciously associates touch with bullying or violence. You have to teach him to appreciate affection and kindness, and it will take you a lot of time.

🍰 Eventually, with a lot of pain he adjusts to your taction. He likes to sit next to you, shoulder pressed against yours, while resting his head on your shoulder or head, enjoying peace and silence, while you fidget with his fingers, occasionally placing brief kisses on bruises on his hand. He likes small touches. Once he learns what a surprise hug is, he abuses the life out of it. Be prepared to have mini-heart attacks when he screeches into your ear and hugs you from behind while you return from a small grocery trip back home. Other than that, his level of tactility remains the same.

🍰 His mask and goggles are also mental protection for him from the world. You notice that he takes them off when he is around you.

🍰 He is weak for compliments..even if he overthinks, in some instances, becomes angry or sad, whatever mood hits at the moment, but deep down he is squealing. He will hint at that in his own way by trying to compliment you. This is also important as at times he feels paranoid you are plotting something against him, so compliment him when you can.

🍰 Small acts, like maybe washing his bloody clothes or sewing them as they have a lot of holes, makes him intensely love you. He just stares at you, you just think he is probably hallucinating something.

🍰 Movies showed what women truly desire, so he is a gentleman, ..tries to be, so he would bring you flowers that he probably snatched from a nearby garden. Would keep the door for you, all that, his twitching, ticking, can make it unpredictable. If you're slammed by the said door on your side, trust him, he didn't mean it.

🍰 If you see him just lying down and doing nothing for days, don't try to extremely cheer him up or, goodness forbid, say "smile some more." Just be by his side, be patient. He will become cheery again soon.

🍰 He is jealous, he cares about your attention more than ever. So be careful how you act around your friends, family, or strangers if you want them to be at least alive by the morning.

🍰 His mind can be fogged by rage sometimes, so stay out of his way, he isn't in his head when he is like that.

🍰 Oh, if you have an S/O while he is in this state. No more of that S/O, maybe not you either. If anyone dares to flirt with you, no more of that person, either. You can beg Tobs to just end the lesson with a severe beating but good luck with that. He may switch his unstable bloodthirst onto you if you try too hard.

If you reach this, thank you for reading this war and peace, hope this all makes a bit of sense lmao.

[glutominnn]

Have you ever wonder why Ivory Wraith mess around/find out with PC even when you literally haven't touch the necklace or trespassing on a blood moon? Why it'd still stalk you on the street out of nowhere just to give you that little bit of trauma and stress for funnies?

Beside the fact in the Schism event that Ivory Wraith is closed with another initiate, who's subtly hinted to be PC in their previous life. This relationship, however, was not explicitly confirmed what it was. Depends on your interpretation, they could have been a friend/crush/lover/spouse of Ivory. We don't know yet.

One thing we DO know, is that even after witnessing and dying in such cirtumtances, staying who knows how long under the lake, no doubt Ivory's mentality was fucked, and though it might have forgotten many things, it was clearly still hanging on to two things: the necklace and the memories of the initiate that's closed to it when it was alive.

Now imagine this: someone who's very dear and important to you passed away, and then after some time, an imitator with the same appearance shows up and does all sort of stupid shits, steals things right infront of you. Would you be at least, a teeny tiny bit, feels like you need to fuck with them out of spite? Yea, I thought so.

Even if PC turns out to be that initiate, I can tell there's no way they could be exactly the same person, despite many similarities. Think about how mocked and utterly pissed off Ivory must have felt when the very reincarnation of their friend/crush/lover/spouse, who they used to loved so much, just swam down and took away the last possession they have left, nosy and ignorant while doing so.

It's insulting to both Ivory and the person they held in their memory.

[talesofesther]

you're all I want love to be

Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Tara is still afraid to allow people close, to allow herself to trust again. Until she finds someone who makes it easier.

A/N: The idea for this was also given to me by my dear @iamnicodemus. Hope y'all like it. Tara, I love u. <3

Masterlist

Tara never meant for it to happen.

It was actually the one thing she wanted the least. Catching feelings for someone only opens up more opportunities for her to get hurt.

And yet it happened so easily, so subtly, that she only realized it when the damage was already done.

She found you on her first day at the university. When she was admittedly very lost; backpack hanging from one shoulder, fifteen minutes late for her class, and walking in the opposite direction of it. You were the only person she'd bumped into when going past Blackmore's cafeteria, and after a bit of an internal pep talk, Tara walked up to you.

And if kindness could be a person, it would be you. Instead of just taking her to class, you gave Tara a simple tour of the university, promising to be around if she ever needed anything else.

Tara started noticing you on every corner of the campus after that. She didn't take you up on your offer though, choosing instead to keep her distance. Still, you always had a smile reserved for her at times you'd catch her staring. That didn't change when the rumors about her and Sam started, if anything, you became more approachable than before.

But it was only after an unfortunate incident, that Tara actually started hanging out with you;

October had started four days ago, and with it, the Halloween season. Parties were already being scheduled every other weekend and sometimes on weekdays as well.

Tara was walking towards her class, her head in the clouds while she thought about what costume she would wear if she were to go to one of those parties.

She was usually one to be early for class now that she had her paths memorized, preferring the calmness of the minutes before everyone started rushing to arrive on time.

So she wasn't exactly expecting what happened next.

As Tara rounded a corner, she was surprised to come face to face with two other students; one of them adorning a black hoodie and a cheap Ghostface mask. The 'boo' that left his lips was as childish as it could be, but the abruptness of the encounter got Tara stumbling on her own feet as she took several steps back, eyes wide and her body momentarily entering fight or flight mode.

"What's wrong, Carpenter?" The guy in the mask said in a mocking tone, his friend joining in on the laughter, "thought I was your sister?"

Tara's voice was tangled up in her throat, she couldn't remember if she packed her inhaler this morning, or was it her taser that she forgot?

If unkind memories weren't flashing behind her eyes, Tara would have recognized the two idiots in front of her; the boys who came here to do anything but study, taking getting on people's nerves as a hobby.

It was only when the back of their heads was hit — quite forcefully — with a book, that they stopped laughing. The cheap mask fell to the ground with the hit, gaining a crack on its edge.

"Don't you guys have anything better to do?" You came from behind them, tucking the book back in your backpack, "fuck off before I tell the director what you've been doing out in the parking lot when you think no one's watching."

With a few complaints under their breath, they eventually walked away, allowing Tara to let out the breath she'd been holding.

"Morons," you huffed, tugging on the straps of your backpack before turning around to Tara, your gaze softening immediately, "you okay?"

Her dark eyes found yours. She simply nodded, feeling her lower lip quivering when she tried to speak. She noticed the way your hand twitched to reach out to her but you stopped yourself midway, instead tucking both hands in your pockets.

"I'm sorry about them," you told her with the usual gentleness you never lacked, "they should know better than to do that."

Tara shook her head softly, managing a smile when her heartbeat started to settle, "thank you for… stepping in."

You just shrugged, your smile coming as a copy of hers, and it got Tara wondering if it could hold the same sentiment too.

"Anytime," you told her then, and Tara hardly left your side after it.

It was easy to fall into the routine of having you near and pretending she was just a normal girl with a crush on her friend. Being with you was so easy that it made Tara forget about all the bad, forget about all the reasons why allowing people close became dangerous.

And today? Today should be a good day, it's a day Tara has been looking forward to, a day that took away her sleep for all the good reasons. And it's not like she never stopped to get coffee with you on the way to campus, but today felt different because you had asked her to, as a date.

And Tara had been counting the seconds for it; until Ghostface came back and nearly killed her and Sam at that grocery store, until Mindy said 'never trust the love interest', until her worst nightmares came back again and suddenly nothing was easy anymore.

"Alright guys, as much as I love discussing possible suspects with you," Chad pushed himself off the bench he'd been sitting on, "we've still got classes to go to, come on Ethan." The two boys gathered their things and walked away, Quinn soon following behind.

Tara slumped back in her seat, her hands coming up to cover her eyes. With her sight momentarily gone, it felt like everything else was louder, heavier; she could perfectly hear the rustling of leaves from the trees around, the cacophony of voices from all the other students hanging out outside, and feel the weight of Sam's gaze on her.

"I think someone's looking for you, lovergirl," Mindy said out of nowhere, kicking Tara's sneaker with her own. When Tara glanced up at her friend with a frown, all Mindy did was tilt her head towards the university, where you had just walked out from and were now making your way to them.

"Don't think I haven't noticed," Mindy teased with a sing-song voice and a grin plastered on her lips.

"Noticed what?" Sam sat up straighter, her gaze shifting from Tara to Mindy.

"Tara's girlfr-"

"Nothing," Tara interrupted quickly, getting up so she could land a gentle punch to Mindy's shoulder, "nothing to notice," she said again, pointedly.

"Alright, let's go, Sam," Mindy extended a hand for the older girl, "we'll meet back at the dorm later."

Sam still had a confused frown on her features but she took the hand offered to her anyway, while Mindy leaned closer to Tara so she could whisper; "always knew you had good taste," before both of them walked again.

Tara's cheeks went aflame as she let out a groan, predicting the onslaught of questions she'd get later today. She slowly turned around to meet you in the middle, her soul naturally filling with incessant butterflies.

Had she really been that unsubtle when regarding you?

"Hey," you greeted her a little breathlessly, letting go of your backpack and leaving it on the floor as you took a small extra step closer to Tara, your eyes frantically looking her over, "I was so worried when I saw what happened last night, are you-"

"I'm okay," it was instinct, but Tara didn't know if the words were true. There was something about you that always made her feel more than she wanted to, she suddenly felt like the last pieces of herself she'd been trying to hold together so hard over the last months started crumbling. Tara took hold of your hands, squeezing tightly. She didn't know who she was trying to comfort, you or herself.

You held her back, glancing down as your fingers intertwined with hers. Tara observed the way your lashes kissed the corner of your cheeks; you were all golden softness and spring warmth, presence rivaling the one of a welcoming sun on a cold day. Tara wanted to memorize that, keep it in her heart as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you.

It should be easy to forget and pretend, but it suddenly wasn't, because Mindy's words kept ringing inside Tara's head even if she didn't want them to be true. She felt tears steadily collecting on the bottom lid of her eyes.

"But," she closed her eyes at the unsteadiness of her own voice. More than anything, she wanted this, wanted you. But she was stuck. It felt like quicksand, pulling her further down the more she struggled to get out. "about today…"

It's like you knew her better than she knew herself sometimes, maybe for you, it still felt easy. "It's alright, Tara." Your thumb brushed over the scar on top of her hand, "we don't have to go, I understand."

Tara pursed her lips, blinking away her vulnerability. She let go of your hands only to loop her arm around yours and bring your bodies closer together, "walk me to class, though?"

—

"Come on, spill it, what's up between you two?" Mindy leaned back on the kitchen counter beside Tara, "I was joking earlier today, but now I actually think there's something there."

The carrot Tara was cutting ended up with a slice too big, she had to turn it around and cut it one more time in the middle, "I've told you, there's nothing going on," Tara told her friend with a sigh, making sure to cut smaller slices so she could keep her hands busy as long as possible; "she's my friend."

Mindy scoffed, she picked up a spoon from the sink and tasted whatever Chad was cooking up on the stove. A grimace came to her face at the lack of seasoning, "I've heard that before."

"It's not like that," Tara dropped the knife then, unsure what she was frustrated about or what she wanted to convince Mindy of, "how can I get… involved with someone after what happened?" Her voice grew quieter by the end.

Mindy softened at that, she turned to face Tara fully — everyone knew the younger Carpenter was still struggling with what she'd been through, even if she didn't want to admit it. "I know it's not easy, T. But you can't close yourself off for everyone, some people are still worth it," Mindy glanced towards the living room, a soft smile on her lips when Anika's silhouette came into view, "people aren't meant to be islands."

—

There are times when the pain is so big, that it almost doesn't feel like pain anymore. If it comes from a wound, that's usually the time when you'll pass out. If it comes from inside, you start to feel numb.

Sitting at the back of an ambulance as she watches cops walking out with another one of her friends in a dark body bag, Tara thinks she's close to that feeling. Mindy is sitting beside her, she's not moving. Tara doesn't know what to say in moments like these, they feel almost awkward. A morbid kind of awkward.

So when she gets up, cell phone in hand with your number already ringing, she blames it on that; on the pain squeezing her chest almost to the point of unbearable, on the helplessness she feels twirling in her gut.

Tara paced back and forth on the sidewalk, trying to draw out the noise of the sirens as she counted up the seconds until you picked up.

… Two, three, four.

Tara could hear her own heart rate quicken, she closed her eyes, thinking about how her inhaler was still all the way up in the apartment; where there's blood, and-

Please, pick up. Please, pick up.

"Hello?"

A long sigh of relief left Tara's lips as soon as she heard your voice through the phone. As if she hadn't cried enough, she could see tears clouding her sight.

"Tara? What happened, is everything okay?"

"No, it's not," Tara forced out, her voice tight with a sudden rawness. She turned her back to Mindy so the girl wouldn't see her crying, "there was another attack… Anika didn't make it."

"Oh god, I can't-" Tara could hear you choking on your own voice, "are you okay? Please tell me you're okay."

"Yeah, I'm-" Tears made a steady path down to Tara's chin, some getting caught under the phone pressed tightly to her cheek, "I'm alright."

"Tell me where you are, I can be there in like ten- five minutes."

"No!" Tara said with urgency, "don't come here, please, I don't want you anywhere near this," she gulped back a lump in her throat, "it's too dangerous."

"But what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Tara closed her eyes, wishing the words really were true, "I just-" she hesitated, a confession lingering on her tongue, "I just wanted to hear your voice, is all." She bit onto her lower lip until it drew blood.

"We- we can talk for as long as you need," it was like Tara could hear your smile, "I'm happy to hear your voice too."

—

Ambulance lights and police sirens were clouding your senses as you run up to the commotion. It was quite a sight; your oversized shirt, shorts, and sneakers with mismatched high socks. But you couldn't remember to care because your heart had been at your throat ever since Mindy called.

There were several reporters blocking your view but you squeezed your way through them until you reached the police tape. You've always hated this; the white and red colors of the vehicles that only showed up in tragedies, the panic and grief that lay heavy in the air, the clicks of the cameras from people who saw it as an opportunity — you hated it all, but right now the only one on your mind is Tara.

You ducked to go under the police tape, immediately attracting the attention of one of the cops, "Miss, you can't be here, please go back behind-"

"No, you don't understand," you gripped at the fabric of his jacket when he tried to keep you back, trying to push through, "I know them."

And the cop kept speaking, probably about things you weren't allowed to do and places you shouldn't be. You didn't hear any of it, because you found her. Her blue shirt had more red than blue in it, dried blood was all over the fabric, making you feel a mix between relief and nauseousness; her hair was messy, tangled, and damp in some places; her skin still coated with bits of dirt and blood too; her arm was held up by a makeshift bandage. But she was there, talking to a blonde woman on a stretcher; she was alive.

"Tara," you called quietly as your sight blurred over, and then a little louder, "Tara!"

She looked up, any words she'd been saying dying on her lips when she saw you. For a beat, it seemed as if she was assessing if you were real or not, before she was all but running towards you.

Not caring for consequences, you pushed the cop off of you and met her halfway — lucky for you he apparently noticed you really knew them.

"What are you doing here?" Tara's eyes were glinting under the red and blue lights, there were clear tracks on her cheeks where tears had run down.

"I was-" you tried, stumbling over your words as you took her in, all blood stains and bruises. You raised a hand to push back her fringe, the strands of hair were damp to the touch; from sweat or blood, you didn't want to know. "Mindy called, and scared the shit out of me. I came as fast as I could."

With her lower lip stuck between her teeth, Tara leaned into your touch. Her eyes closed tightly when your thumb traced the outline of her eyebrow.

"Are you okay? I mean of course you're not okay, what am I even-"

You were cut off when Tara threw herself at you. She pulled you close with her free hand, nails almost digging into your skin with the force of it as she buried her head on your shoulder.

Quiet sobs shook her body and you held her back the best you could whilst being mindful of her injuries. One of your hands cradled her head, fingers tangled in her dark hair as you breathed in everything that was her. "Shit, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you."

Tara only pushed herself into you more as you spoke. There was a beat, a moment of hesitance from someone who'd had the bitter taste of betrayal more than anyone should. Trust was a gamble, but when you had a place in her heart no one else could ever have, Tara knew you'd never break it. "I'm okay now," she spoke against you; and she believed it.

You only squeezed her tighter, pulling back just enough to land a kiss on her temple. And you allowed your lips to linger, to feel her skin against you and her heartbeat pressed to your own.

Tara melted in your hold, allowing you to support most of her weight. With her cheek pressed to your collarbone, she spoke; "you still owe me a date."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Tara’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 4

[chap three] | [chap five] | [all chapters here]

summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Oooh lads, here we are again! I was going to save this chapter for tomorrow, but I'm having a bad day, so I decided to treat all of us with an update today! Not too much happens in this chapter, however, it still charmed me very much, and I'm the one who fucking wrote it lol. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!

taglist: @costellation-hunter @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie @damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @kthomps914 @lotrefcp @marrowfrog00 @mewchiili @munsonssweets @no-bueno-writer @rach5ive @sav12321 @steeldaisies

wc: 4.0k

Chapter Four

“What the hell?” Amelia hisses while practically slamming down her lunch tray. You looked up at her with feigned ignorance, your eyes cool as you took both her and Janet in. You’d once again attempted sitting at your new lunch table, the same dorky couple sharing it with you, amongst a few of their friends. Although the group briefly eyed you, they’d been ignoring you for the past few minutes. That is, until your friends showed up.

“What?” You asked before turning your attention back to your food.

“You know what.” Amelia insisted, staying on her feet with an irate look. You were shocked she even dared to come out here in no man’s land to talk to you for a second time. Janet, submissive as ever, stayed back, looking between you both with worried eyes, “Did you hit your head or something? Why are you suddenly so interested in Munson?”

Annoyance jaded your features. You settle your glaring eyes on Amelia, your voice just as accusatory as hers, “Why does it matter?”

She scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing in the word, “Because he’s a loser. What’s everyone gonna think if they keep seeing you two together? You already made a scene this morning, they’re already talking.”

You shrugged, far too nonchalantly for Amelia’s taste, as you spoke around a bite of food, which was actually your way of hiding the glee you felt knowing that people were already talking about you and Eddie, “Does it matter? Does any of this shit matter?”

“Of course it does.” Janet finally chimed in, her voice calm compared to Amelia, “You could get yourself in trouble hanging out with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes before shooting her a condescending look, “When have I ever gotten in trouble for literally anything?”

“It’s bound to happen eventually.” Amelia countered, and you finally dropped your fork to look at them both, your frustration growing.

“If it bothers you so much,” You start, your tone cold and direct, as non-emotional and harsh as you could manage, “start hanging out with someone else. Start hanging around Duncan, for all I care. We have loads of other friends who I’m sure won’t do something as stupid as talking to a boy.”

Amelia rolled her eyes at the way you mocked them, familiar with the tone of voice you were using. She’s heard you use it at least half a dozen times before when you two had gotten into stupid arguments in the past.

“Look, whenever you’re done PMSing or whatever, you’ll see where we’re coming from.” With a finite look on her face, Amelia picked up her lunch tray again and headed off back to her familiar, comfortable lunch table. Janet gave you an apologetic look before scurrying off a moment later.

You should be upset. And, yes, a part of you was irritated by the conversation, and yet, a large smile spread across your face - you didn’t anticipate that you’d piss Amelia off so quickly and acutely. You two have fought a number of times before considering how easily your personalities could clash, but this felt like you actually accomplished something. Your plan was already working wonders, despite your continued doubts.

As you went back to your quiet lunch, you couldn’t help but watch your group of friends from afar, mostly in irritation, although you felt a mild pang of loss in your chest. They all looked so happy, so at ease with one another, and a part of you suddenly missed that feeling. But you knew you were just being nostalgic, because you wouldn’t feel any of those things if you sat with them - you wouldn’t feel happy or at ease, rather you’d feel annoyed and tense.

Yet you couldn’t help but that bit of sadness you felt at the sight of them.

Even Duncan, that asshole, looked cheery as he shared a laugh with the guys, clapping one of them on the shoulder. You couldn’t help but glower at the sight of him. Diverting your attention, your eyes began to scan the lunch room, wondering where exactly Eddie and his band of rejects sat. You’d never noticed before considering that it didn’t matter in the past, but it was probably a good idea to start keeping track of these types of things. 

You eventually found the gaggle of geeks, watching as they excitedly conversed. The mean-spirited part of you made a judgmental face, assuming they were talking about D&D or the arcade or something else equally as nerdy. After a few moments of taking in the group as a whole, you found yourself studying Eddie’s face, taking in his ever-changing expression; he didn’t seem to notice you watching him, which gave you a better chance at observing him.

Eddie was always theatrical, you realized, always throwing his arms around as he spoke or raising his voice for particular emphasis. You found it strange just how big his communication style was, especially considering how tightly wound you always were. Where he had his exaggerated movements and his dramatic tones, you had your tight motions and controlled voice. Just thinking about how different he was dared to give you a headache, and you caught yourself wondering what the hell you’d be in for once you two moved your fake relationship along.

Eventually, Eddie seemed to sense eyes on him, because his gaze found yours curiously. You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was able to see the movement from halfway across the cafeteria; when he made a face in return, you figured he noticed. He, too, raised both brows as if in question, nudging his head ever so slightly - it appeared that he was asking you to join him, but you couldn't be sure if that’s what he meant. Nonetheless, you shook your head at him, deciding that you were enjoying your quiet lunch and that you weren’t quite ready to put up with his group of loser friends for even five minutes. Regardless of whether or not you wanted to, you knew you’d get to that point eventually. Eddie gave a shrug of his shoulders, as if silently saying “suit yourself;” and although he turned his gaze back to his friends, you two continued stealing glances for the remainder of your lunch break.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Come Wednesday morning, Amelia wasn’t waiting for you at your locker. No one was except for Janet, who looked tense before she spotted you walking towards her. She tried to put on a brave face once you two met eyes.

You figured this meant Amelia wasn’t planning on talking to you anytime soon. Good. As for the rest of the group, it didn’t matter to you either way. Although, it was still surprising to see Janet here by herself - she must’ve been sent by Amelia.

As you approached, Janet gave you a sheepish wave. You couldn't help the familial smile you gave her - she was a much easier person to get along with than most others in your circle.

“How long before Amelia talks to me this time?” You jested with a mean quality to your voice.

Janet didn’t appear to be amused by it, though, as she responded, “She’ll hold out forever if she feels like it.”

You huffed out a laugh while opening your locker, “Good point. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”

You two were silent for a few long moments as Janet nibbled at her thumb nail and you moved belongings between your bag and your locker.

“What’s going on with you this week?” She finally asked, out of curiosity, rather than with judgment. Nonetheless, you shot her a look, to which she quickly waved her hands as if to calm down whatever bitchiness was about to stir up in you, “No no, I’m not trying to be mean. It’s just… you’ve been weird since school started.”

So, Janet noticed. You wondered if anyone else had. Maybe they’d all been ignoring it, but now that Eddie was in the mix they couldn’t keep that up anymore.

You shrugged as the pair of you began the trek through the halls to your respective classes, your answer noncommittal, “‘Weird,’ huh?”

Janet watched you as if she was waiting for you to elaborate, before sighing and asking, “Is there something going on? Like, something you need to talk about?”

You laughed without thinking, a mean and dismissive sound even to your own ears, “Yeah right.”

Hurt flashed across Janet’s face, her tone clearly different than it was a moment before, “Geez, sorry I asked.”

“Just stop worrying about it, alright?” You insisted with harshness, your eyes cold as you looked over at her.

With a resigned expression, Janet dropped her head and sighed, muttering as she walked away, “Yeah, whatever…”

It briefly struck you that maybe you didn’t have to be so bitchy all the time. But, then again, you didn’t really know how to be anything else.

Your day went on as usual from that point. You discussed a boring book in first period, you wasted time in second period, and once third period rolled around, a vague excitement struck you as you remembered that that was the one class you shared with Eddie. You should not have been excited at that thought, not in the slightest, and yet it added something interesting to your otherwise stupid and monotonous day.

When you entered the classroom, Eddie was already there, sitting at his usual desk in the back corner, looking bored despite class not even starting yet, drumming his pencil absently on his desk. As you approached and he spotted you out of the corner of his eye, he sat up a little in his seat, a nearly cute smile crossing his lips. Once you reached his side, the kid next to Eddie glanced up at you curiously, to which you made a face; meanwhile, Eddie just appeared surprised that you were the one to initiate conversation.

“Didn’t see you this morning.” You started simply, crossing your arms in front of you.

“I was late.” He shrugged lazily before giving you a conspiratory look, “What, were you waiting for me?”

You narrowed your eyes a little at his teasing, responding in a flat tone, “Oh, I was absolutely heartbroken.”

“Figured.” Eddie grinned widely, to which you responded with a subtle smile.

You turned away and went to your desk in the second row, surrounded by other students who were part of your usual circle of acquaintances. While waiting for class to start, you looked around the room, your gaze unintentionally drifting back towards Eddie. You studied him for a few moments before a decisive look graced your features and you abruptly stood back up. The movement caused a couple of people to glance your way, but otherwise no one cared.

You walked to the back of the room, turning your attention on the boy sitting next to Eddie, who awkwardly looked between you and his desk as if he were nervous under your gaze, as if he feared looking you in the eye.

“Move.” You say harshly. He looks at you in surprise and confusion, to which you raise a curved brow as if challenging him to defy you, “Move.”

You didn’t have to repeat yourself again. With a surprised scoff, he collected his things and migrated to the next available seat, which was sure to throw off the entire seating arrangement of the class for the day. As you plopped down at the desk next to Eddie’s, he laughed halfheartedly, his expression just as surprised as the other boy’s.

“Jesus, you are mean.” He states, although his eyes seem to show at least a hint of appreciation. You shrug, pulling your notebook and pencil from your bag.

“Well, I wanted to sit here.”

“Ever heard of the word ‘please?’” Eddie teased, shaking his head at you. You gave him a look out of the corner of your eye, refraining from talking back.

As the bell rang and the stragglers migrated in, people began to notice your change of seat. Some people looked at you strangely, others with disapproval, and the rest just didn't seem to notice or care at all. Hell, even your teacher had to pause and search for you during attendance, realizing you weren’t at your usual desk. Her vague hum of disapproval was enough to get a few students to shoot glances your way. As if in response, Eddie stretched his leg across the aisle to rest his foot on the metal basket beneath your seat.

Math class came and went, and as you walked out of the room, Eddie followed right alongside. As you led the way to your next class, Eddie playfully bumped your shoulder with his, which was starting to become a common thing between you two already, a quick way for him to break the rules you laid out for him.

You glanced up at him with a raised brow, “Yes?”

Eddie shrugged, looking falsely nonchalantly, causing you to narrow your eyes in confusion and perhaps mild annoyance. The playfulness wasn’t something you were accustomed to, nor did you think you ever would.

“You gonna sit with us at lunch?” He asked, to which you pulled a face, causing him to laugh without amusement, “I take it that’s a ‘no.’”

“I didn’t exactly factor your friends into this plan.”

Eddie looked nearly amused, but also perhaps a touch critical, “What did you factor in?”

You made a face, but he continued to simply look down at you with a slight grin. You sighed in response, chewing the inside of your cheek with thought.

“I guess we need to come up with some more rules.”

“Do I get to make some this time?” Eddie joked.

You rolled your eyes smally, “I’ll allow it.”

“Then I guess it’s a date.” You paused momentarily to look up at him with narrowed eyes.

“You still have to actually ask me out, that doesn’t count,” The pair of you reach your biology classroom, so you pause outside the door. “I’m expecting those flowers and balloons, you know.”

“I’m sure you are.” Eddie mocked, that damned grin still across his lips.

Students brushed past you to enter the classroom, and you briefly wondered if Duncan - who you shared this class with - was already here, if he had noticed the two of you. But you didn’t dare to look into the classroom, because just your luck he’d figure you were looking for him. But as that thought crossed your mind, you took a small step closer into Eddie’s personal space, putting on your best look of interest as you stared up at him. Eddie first appeared flustered and confused, but he quickly brushed it off as he seemed to slowly realize what you were doing.

“You’re not half bad at this, you know,” Eddie teased, his eyes shining as he said in a slightly lower voice, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost believe you liked me.”

Despite yourself, your cheeks warmed a little, but you hoped that it wasn’t obvious. Or maybe you did want it to be obvious. There was just something about Eddie’s tone that threw you off your rhythm, and you mentally kicked yourself for it.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” The flirty expression on your face juxtaposed your flat tone, and Eddie’s face looked almost wicked in response.

“No, that’s supposed to be your job.”

You had to pull your eyes away from Eddie’s - you had absolutely no interest in him, but this performative flirting was starting to mess with you a little. That’s something you’d have to work on as well, because you didn’t need this plan to confuse you one bit.

You didn’t realize how long the two of you had been standing in the hallway, as the ring of the fourth period bell nearly startled you. You found Eddie’s eyes again, giving him as cute a smile as you could muster.

“Go before you land yourself in detention.” You instructed; Eddie grinned widely while shaking his head.

“I practically run detention.” He, again, brushed his fingers along the small of your back as he moved past you, holding your eyes as you watched him go, “I’ll catch you later.”

You gave a small wave before dipping into the classroom, eyes roaming over everyone as you walked to your seat. You caught Duncan looking at you knowingly.

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By Friday afternoon, Amelia was over your spat earlier in the week, insisting that you sit with them at lunch, to which you begrudgingly agreed after she kept pestering you. Well, maybe she wasn’t entirely over it - her snide little comments throughout the week made that abundantly clear. But, just as most teenagers do, she chose to pretend it didn’t happen and go on with life as usual. She ignored the little glances Eddie would shoot you in the hall, the little knowing looks you two shared, and you didn’t mention your new seat next to him in math class.

After classes ended for the day, you were amongst a group of students lingering in the parking lot, everyone discussing that night’s football game and other upcoming plans for the weekend. You actually managed to hold a half-decent conversation with a couple of the cheerleaders and a boy you once upon a time had a crush on back in freshman year; that never went beyond making out drunkenly a couple times at parties. Nearby, Duncan entertained a group with some story that probably wasn’t as interesting as everyone acted; he hadn’t acknowledged you this entire time, and had made it a point of ignoring you since Wednesday.

The group seemed to be in agreement that they’d all go out after the football game, and of course it was presumed that meant everyone, including you. You avoided saying anything on the subject so you wouldn’t be held accountable for it later.

At some point in your conversation, your former crush made a puzzled face at something past your shoulder. You mirrored his expression curiously, looking behind you to see what caught his attention.

Eddie was approaching the group. You had to give him credit, it was ballsy to come up to a dozen popular kids as the guy who was almost universally hated in this school. In that moment, you appreciated Eddie’s confidence and lack of fear.

You decided you’d rather spare yourself the headache of everyone ganging up on Eddie, so stealing a glance at the group, you slid off the hood of the car you sat on, walking away from them without another word. As you met him halfway, Eddie gave you a devilish grin, his eyes drifting from you to the crowd of kids just beyond your shoulder. You raised your brow challengingly at him, but managed a small half-smile at his presence.

You briefly wondered what they were all thinking, what they were all saying. You hoped it was nothing good at all.

“They sure look happy to see me.” Eddie commented, casually sliding his hands in his pockets with a lazy grin once you two came together.

Just like you’ve been working on, you stood closer to Eddie than you would have liked, giving a performance even as your back was turned to all of your friends and acquaintances. You needed to be convincing at all times, so you tried to think about all the little details that would suggest you were interested in Eddie, even if no one could see your face - leaning in as you spoke, twiddling your fingers, etc.

“So, are you asking me out now?” You tilted your head to one side as you asked in a matter-of-fact tone.

A small huff escaped Eddie’s nose, “You’re a real romantic, you know that, princess?”

“Aren’t I just?” You taunted, eyes narrowing.

Keeping his face cool, Eddie leaned forward so you were nearly eye level with one another, a smirk still resting on his lips as he responded in a prodding tone, “I’m going to ask you out now. If that’s alright with you, of course.”

You made a face at his mocking tone, but nodded nonetheless, staring at him impatiently. Eddie put on an extra charming smile for the audience inevitably watching your interaction as he stood back to his full height.

“Then in that case,” He paused to eye you up and down with an expression you’d never seen on his face before - if you didn’t know any better, you would’ve bought it, and you nearly flushed at that thought. Eddie projected his voice, not so loud that it was obvious, but just enough that some of your friends were certain to hear him, “So, what do you say? Let me take you out tonight, anywhere you want.”

“Tonight?” You asked with actual surprise while Eddie smiled at you with a charming look on his face.

“Unless you have something better going on.” Eddie taunted while stealing a glance at the group behind you, his expression growing almost too cocky considering that you both knew that you couldn’t say “no.”

You were certain the group was watching your conversation unabashedly, if Eddie’s attentive eyes were anything to go on. You traced your tongue along your lower lip as you drew out the moment just as Eddie had done to you before. When it seemed that you were taking too long, his gaze flicked back down to you.

“I really hope you don’t have something better going on.” He added as if he were getting nervous, as if this was real and the feeling of rejection was creeping up on him. You raised your brows tauntingly, your expression a little mean, and Eddie realized you did this on purpose. He just had to refrain from letting his impatience show on his face.

You finally show him mercy, adding a flirty smile despite the fact that your friends still couldn’t see your face, “Anywhere I want, huh?”

You could practically feel the impatient exhale that escaped Eddie, his eyes showing the slightest bit of annoyance at you. But he kept that charming grin in place.

“Anywhere.”

“Then it’s a date.” Your tone is a little brighter as you try to convey excitement.

You turn back in the direction of the group so that you could walk to your car, Eddie coming up alongside you. Your stride is confident despite all eyes on you, and you can see some of them whispering to one another. As you breeze past with Eddie beside you, you see Duncan shaking his head in disbelief, while another friend makes a harsh comment about Eddie.

“Pick me up at 7,” You start to instruct, letting your cool eyes look over the crowd of popular kids, “figure out if any good movies are showing, I’m craving popcorn.”

Once you two reach your car, you lean your rear back against the driver door while looking up at Eddie who now had his back to the group. You almost enjoyed the reversal, as you were able to catch every small glance sent your way by Amelia, Janet, and everyone else; now you could see just how harshly everyone had been staring at you before.

You whispered, forcing Eddie to stand a little closer, “We’re not actually going out tonight, I have something going on.”

“Damn,” Eddie teased with a false grin, “you got my hopes up.”

“But we do need to make plans soon,” You continue, ignoring his sarcasm, “We have to figure out how this is going to work.”

“And it’d be nice if your fake boyfriend actually knew anything about you.” Eddie added, to which you made a face despite knowing he had a point. A curious look crossed his face, as if what you said about having plans just a moment ago was finally setting in, “So… what do you have going on tonight?”

“Not telling.” You answer simply as you give him a wicked grin. Your eyes trail back to the group of your former friends for a split second, and in an impulsive act of defiance, you lean up to kiss Eddie on the cheek, his barely-there stubble tickling your lips. You pulled back with a flirty look, desperately fighting the impulse to make a face at the physical contact that you just initiated, “We’ll talk next week, Munson.”

[lacevalentines]

(madoka magica / rebellion spoilers below. TW: suicide and controlling behavior)

I don't know the direction in which walpurgisnacht rising will take homura's character but I can say with confidence that from at least where rebellion left off that I truly believe that homura made the decision that she felt was the most correct one even if it meant she had to become a monster in the eyes of every person that loved her. she felt that if things were left in the way the law of the cycle was currently running things that it was inevitable that kyubey would eventually capture madoka in her goddess form, study her, and use her to as a source for mass amounts of energy at the suffering of herself, the others within the law of the cycle, and magical girls at large again. this is something he explains very clearly when talking to homura before her transformation into homulilly.

I get so exhausted when I see people try characterize homura as an actually evil person with completely selfish desires and no regard for others. all of her actions, while not explicitly explained outright, when looked at closely always indicate that she does things out of her care for the other girls but feels like she bears the burden of having to do it alone because she believes she's the only one who doesn't let her emotions get in the way of protecting madoka and the others from kyubey and sometimes each other.

I will always use the scenes of her interactions with mami and sayaka in rebellion as huge examples of this. she has no reason not to kill them if she's a completely selfish and unemphatic person that only cares about madoka and no one else when given many opportunities to do so. I also don't personally think she keeps them around JUST because of madoka's happiness either. she very easily could have suppressed their roles in madoka's life with the world rewrite and clearly choose not to. I believe her mocking sayaka and acting in a clearly "evil" manner is deliberate acting on her part to frame herself as a villain. she might believe this would her actions more palatable and will create distance between herself and everyone else to protect them as well as allow her to assert more control in this situation. it is further emphasized how she truly feels with imagery displayed in homura's new world around herself (shoes abandoned on the side of a building to potentially indicate suicidal ideation, a half moon alluding to homura feeling unfulfilled and unhappy with this decision, her dancing around happily before stopping and slowly falling off the cliff side with a similar implication as the shoes).

homura's relationship with the others is incredibly complicated but she cares for them deeply too as they are also people she considers friends, she just had a particularly strong attachment to madoka. we don't get to see as many instances of her interacting with them as we do them interacting with each other as we are unfortunately only really privy to homura's life after she began looping for the most part but we can see it in the way she has expresses concern and distress for them in moments where she believes they are in real, tangible danger of being hurt (she's winces and tries to turn away when aiming for mami's leg and screams out when she believes mami is about to be truly harmed after their gun fight, which neither ever had the real intention of hitting one another with any of those bullets in the first place). her entire witch's labyrinth is one where everyone is happy and gets the lives they desire. why would her labyrinth, which is meant to reflect in-part her inner feelings and desires, appear that way if she didn't truly want that for everyone?

rebellion is so compelling to me for all of this and so much more!! (I could write a whole other post on the way it presents it's freedom with danger vs control with safety question at the end of the film) she is a girl who has repeatedly suffered incredibly traumatizing events and longs for a world where the person she loves and the friends she considers dear are safe. homura is not really the devil, but she wants to appear to be because being the devil would be easier than being a human being in these circumstances.

[pomefioredove]

OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)

part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.

bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic

This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.

From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...

...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.

"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"

Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"

Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.

"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."

"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."

Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.

"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"

Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"

"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."

Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.

Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...

He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"

And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.

Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.

"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.

Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.

"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.

The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"

"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"

"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."

He sounds utterly nervous.

Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"

Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"

"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"

Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"

You look away. "Well-"

Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.

Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"

The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"

A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"

Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...

"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."

Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-

"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"

You shrug, looking to Neige for help.

Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."

"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.

Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"

"But I can visit!" you insist.

Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.

"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"

Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.

"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."

He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.

"...We might hold a vote of our own."