#he is a normal person and he also has a problem with alcoholism which is not glamourised he is not a 'cool' alcoholic

[alexjcrowley]

Are we really going to pretend Takin Over The Asylum doesn't have a pitch that smokes 80% of Netflix original series

[saintobio]

sincerely yours. (9)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after. 

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+ 

tags/warnings. profanity, usage of alcohol, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode ten

Satoru had a major problem. 

And it was his self-control. His lack of self-control was the reason he had engaged himself in an adulterous relationship back when he was married. His lack of self-control was the reason why you had become the recipient of his unreasonable anger in the early stages of your marriage. His lack of self-control was the reason why, out of all the women in the world, he was now sleeping with a friend of yours. For God’s sake, his lack of self-control was probably the reason why you were also pushed to your limits, choosing to cut your marital ties with him and leaving only the scraps of his role as a parent to Sachiro.

Back when he was attending his weekly therapy sessions, his therapist told him that part of what he needed to learn was to control his impulses, resist temptations, and actively exercise his willpower. They were easier to achieve then than now, since he was the loneliest man at the time with no friends, no wife, no son, and no bustling company to run. His decisions remained untainted, his temptations unchallenged, his emotions uninfluenced—a solitary journey at its finest. He was all by himself. How come? It was because he was sent by his mom to Osaka to temporarily seclude him from his harrowing memories in Tokyo, compelling him to sever ties with the outside world and immerse solely in personal convalescence. Reflecting now, it felt no different than being sent to a psychiatric hospital.

He could say it worked at the time. He learned how to keep his emotions at bay. He learned how to control his thoughts, throwing away the bad and keeping only the good. He was a new man by the time he returned to Tokyo, prepared as ever to take on his role as the Chairman of the Gojou Group, ready to once again try and live a normal life. But the moment news had spread about his ex-wife's marriage to his business rival, all the self-control he had painstakingly cultivated seemed to have evaporated in an instant.

Everything also went downhill after that. 

He wasn’t going to list down all of the things that happened nor the impact it had on him since you yourself were a witness to them. But if he was going to look at the way your return has changed the trajectory of his life 3 years after you first left, he would still at a hundred percent put all the blame on his shoulders. None of this domino effect would end up like this if he had been a faithful and loving husband in the first place. The pressure from his father was not the only root of all this, the branches also extended to his corporate greed which ultimately ruined his chance at a fruitful marriage with you. 

But at least, the chaos should have settled by now. You chose to move forward and he decided to respect your decision by finding his way to another. This should free you both from the emotional torture that had you imprisoned in each other's cage for the longest time. He would still be there for you as the father of your child, but otherwise, he was happy that you had Toji Zen’in by your side to fill in the marital gaps that he had failed to complete. 

A heavy sigh escaped his lips. The warm water fell on his body in rivulets, soaking him completely so early in the morning as he decided to take a long shower. For how long? He couldn’t tell. He could stay there for hours if need be. He had to let his mind wander on its own, with a hand pressed against the wall, and another stroking his white hair back. Despite accepting the fact that Toji now owned your love and affection… well, wasn’t that son of a gun too lucky? Did he even realize that the woman he would marry was once Satoru’s entire universe? 

Ah, but who cares? Satoru scoffed inwardly, leaning his head back to let the water hit his face. He had Akemi, so why did it matter if you had Toji? He wasn’t bitter. He was just trying to reason with himself that you deserved to be with someone you really, truthfully loved. And he deserved that, too. Maybe not now, but at the perfect time, he could relive the life of a married man after learning from his mistakes the hard way. A much better one. A married man who would never in his life betray, hurt, or ruin his partner. A doting husband who would offer his whole life just to make her happy. He promised to himself that Akemi should have that kind of man from him. 

Though, he could ask himself, how far was he from achieving that? He did practice his self-control last night when joined you in the pool—his face, inches away from you. Hand gripping your hip. Eye-to-eye. Skin-to-skin. Your warm breath fanning his cheek. Just another step forward and your lips would touch. But he didn’t let that happen. He mustered all of his power to pull back from the gravity that was drawing him closer to you. Still, he couldn’t deny that you looked absolutely gorgeous last night. As the moonlight illuminated your face, he could swear that the stars also sparkled on your eyes. They must be from the tears you were desperately holding back, but either way, you were still so goddamn beautiful. He almost couldn’t keep his eyes off you last night and had to distract himself from looking at your lips, your collarbone, your chest, your curves…

“Fuck.” 

Talk about self-control. 

Satoru had none of that right now. His body reacted involuntarily to the thought of you last night. The sensual thought of you. The what-ifs.

What if he had wrapped your legs around his waist and enveloped your lips into a passionate kiss? 

He took a deep breath, still holding onto the wall as his other hand traveled to his growing member. 

What if he had carried you all the way into the living room and laid you naked on the couch? 

Closing his eyes, his hand started moving on its own, stroking his hardened cock and feeling every ridge as he pleasured himself. 

What if you had let him devour you? Let him roll his tongue on your entrance and taste your sweet, sweet flesh? 

Gojou let out a moan. A quiet yet desperate moan when he continued to jerk himself off faster and rougher. Damn it. He had to keep it low and he better not be heard committing such a sin in the bathroom. Although, he was confident that you were still sound asleep next to Sachiro in your bedroom, so he didn't think you would hear the noise he was making.

After all, it was shameless to know what was driving his feral thoughts right now. Thoughts of you letting him slide his tip along your entrance. Thoughts of him ramming his cock inside your tight cunt, being squeezed by your soft, velvet walls. Thoughts of your breasts bouncing wildly as he continued to hit your most sensitive spot. Fuck. Faster. He would have taken you on all fours, too. He would have let you ride his hardened shaft. He would have pressed you against the sofa and put your legs above his shoulders, letting you milk his cock with the tightness of your cunt. Satoru would release his warm seed into you in every position. He would shoot every drop of his cum straight to your womb, no doubt impregnating you for the second time around. He would absolutely love that. He would love seeing the residues of his wanton desire for you seeping out of your pussy. He would be at bliss watching your belly grow a few months after that, knowing that he had created yet another beautiful life inside of you. 

“Y/N…” 

Awakened by his senses, Satoru opened his eyes and saw the sticky white mess on his hand and on the wall. What the hell did he just do? More importantly, what the hell was he thinking of? 

No one should know about that. Not you, not even Akemi. He didn’t cheat on her, no. He didn’t do anything with you. That shouldn’t be counted as cheating. He didn’t even touch you. And he wasn't even officially dating Akemi.

No, no… 

Absolutely not.

Drowning into a pool of guilt, the first thing he did after that sinful shower session was to contact his supposed girlfriend not-girlfiend. And to make things even more awkward, you entered the kitchen in silence at the right time, carrying a sleepy Sachiro in your arms, unaware of the dilemma that was sending your ex-lover into a spiral.

“Morning,” he greeted almost inaudibly, clearing his throat and taking a sip of coffee afterwards. He had to think straight. 

“Morning,” was your simple and oblivious reply as you went about your daily morning routine. 

Gojou, on the other hand, was typing on his phone because Akemi wasn’t answering his FaceTime calls. He had completely forgotten to update her all day because he had been a little bit too occupied the moment he landed in America. She must be overthinking why he hadn’t reached out to her until now, and he felt extremely awful and responsible for that, but she couldn’t be fast asleep that early, right? It was 7:00 a.m. in New York, so that meant it was only 9:00 p.m. back home. 

He nervously rang her number once more, mumbling a ‘please answer’ as he watched her caller ID appear on the screen. 

“Dada,” called Sachiro, looking at him as his mother sat him on the high chair to prepare his breakfast. 

Still holding his phone, Satoru walked to his son and placed a gentle kiss on his tiny forehead. “Morning, Sachi. Did you sleep well?” 

The toddler nodded at him, drinking milk from the baby bottle that he was holding with both hands. His eyes were wide and blue—quite the same hues of blue that would remind you of a clear sky. Satoru couldn’t help but pinch his adorable son’s cheeks. 

And while you were busy picking out food from the pantry, Akemi finally answered his call after the fourth attempt and showed her beautiful, soft features on the screen. His eyes immediately lit up at the sight of her. “Hey, how are you?” 

He could tell she was still a bit distant and upset because of what happened two weeks ago, when she claimed to have heard him say your name during his sleep. He already made an excuse for it as he also didn’t know why he even did it in the first place, but Akemi was still understandably hurt. He couldn’t blame her. 

“I’m fine, how are you?” she tiredly asked, seemingly heading towards her bed. “I just got home from work, that's why I wasn’t answering.” 

He could see, in the corner of his eyes, that you were glancing at him but he didn’t return it. All of his focus was on Akemi, feeling bad that he hadn’t exactly been a good partner for her lately. Especially after the shit he just did in the shower this morning, but that was a secret that was meant to be buried. “Alright, did you have dinner already? It’s morning here so I’m having breakfast.”

She offered a small smile albeit the visible exhaustion on her eyes. “I did. How’s Sachiro doing?” 

“You wanna see him?” He walked closer to his son, showing him on the screen as his big blue eyes stared at the woman on the other end of the line. “Sachi, say hi to Auntie ‘Kemi.” 

“Hiii~” Sachiro happily greeted Akemi, while the latter cooed at the sight of his son. She spoke to him with a gentle and motherly tone, weaving warmth and love into her words. It made his heart full knowing that Akemi would wholeheartedly treat his child as her own, because if there was a slight possibility that she wouldn’t, she knew that Satoru would rather let her go. His child was still more important than any other woman. And so if his future partner couldn’t accept the fact that he had a child with his ex-wife, then they shouldn’t be in his life after all. The case was different with Akemi because she was already your friend and she had the chance to see Sachiro grow up before Gojou even knew his son existed at all. It was a bit complicated, but things turned out to be easier on the part of acceptance. 

The only problem was you. 

Because by the time the call ended, Satoru could tell that you weren’t in the best mood as you ate breakfast next to Sachiro in complete silence. Your eyebrows were curled into annoyance, and yet your eyes held sadness in them, an expression that had become difficult for him to fathom. Were you jealous of Akemi? He assumed you would say no, but your expressions showed otherwise. 

“Y/N,” he called for your attention, hoping that you would look into his eyes for a little bit. Yet, not a chance did you do. “What’s our agenda for today?” 

You seemed irritated, if anything. You refused to look at him as you gave a curt reply. “I communicated everything you needed to know via email. You should have checked it instead of letting Miwa do everything for you.”

Jeez. You were definitely angry. “Okay.” He cleared his throat once more. “I just asked in case there was a last minute change.” 

“There isn’t. I would have said so if there is.” 

“Right.”

Satoru didn’t know how to act in front of his ex-wife anymore. Now that he had seemed to ignite your pique, he chose not to say anything else further as you two finished your meals and cleaned up after yourselves. The only time he spoke again was when he offered to bathe Sachiro so that you could focus on yourself. 

You agreed. 

And he did his part. 

It was simple give-and-take. A transactional relationship, if you must. Nothing else would blossom from that except your responsibilities as parents for Sachiro. 

——

The New York trip was already as awkward as it was. And it only just started. 

To be fair, it wouldn’t have been as uncomfortable if only Gojou had not decided to make it so. He was the one that made the atmosphere unpleasant by trying to savor every inch of closeness he could get to your skin, only to pull away as if nothing happened. As if he didn’t care about how it made you feel. He even had the audacity to lecture you on how to go about being good parents and setting a good example to Sachiro. Then suddenly, the next morning, he would act like such a loyal and caring partner to Akemi. 

The thought of his loyalty made you scoff on the inside. He should be the absolute last one to be saying that. He should be the last one to profess how much of a loyal man he was trying to be to his new girl. 

Besides, even before this trip was arranged, you had already made it clear on your mind that the sole purpose of going to New York was for Sachiro's sake. Any interaction outside the need to be there for your son would be unnecessary. He wasn’t someone you still needed in your own personal life nor did he need you in his. Your past relationship no longer mattered in this situation and all that was left was for it to be forgotten. But even with your resistance to be anything more than a parent to your son, Satoru still respected you. He still showed, even in little ways, that he cared about your comfort throughout the trip. 

Five days had gone by, and everything you did in New York had been smooth sailing, all thanks to his grand number of connections across the USA. In a short amount of time, Sachiro’s surname had been legally changed, and everything else concerning his birth certificate had been corrected. The only issue left to address was your son’s nationality since Japan doesn’t permit dual citizenship and Sachiro would have to carry a Japanese citizenship and the Gojou name to be able to inherit his father’s assets and multinational conglomerate. You would leave that one up for Satoru to deal with, but everything else had been settled on your end. 

Although this trip wasn’t exactly a vacation, Gojou insisted that you two still take Sachiro out to explore the city he grew up in. And you did so by going to Central Park, telling your ex-husband stories of how you used to bring Sachiro there in a stroller when he was still a little baby and that plenty of strangers, both locals or tourists, would coo at him the minute they took a peek at his adorable face. You also took him to the Empire State Building to get the best view of the entire New York City, and Satoru being Satoru couldn’t leave without taking a family photo with you and your son, capturing the beautiful urban cityscape behind you. You could see it in his eyes that even though he was happy to be there, he was also melancholic at the same time. Almost three years of his son’s life were spent in this famous city, without him, and it was as though the bitter memories of those three years for him were haunting him back. Sadness was reflecting off of his crystal blue eyes as he took a minute staring at the view of the city, reminding you that you were the reason why he had missed out on his baby’s first memories. 

If guilt could literally eat you alive, you would have been devoured. 

“Ready to go, Sachi?” Satoru asked your son, tucking his phone away after having (seemingly) sent Akemi a text message, probably updating her of where he was and what he was doing. In fact, he had been texting and calling her every now and then, as if he was doing his best to reassure her that he wasn’t doing any funny business with you. Has Akemi always been a possessive partner? Even with your years of friendship with her, she had never acted that way in her past relationship. So, was she only like that to Satoru specifically? You wondered if she would go nuts had she heard Satoru tell you how badly he wanted to make more babies with you on your first night here. 

Sachiro nodded, clinging to your hand while reaching for his father’s. “Dada, hand pwease!” 

Satoru did offer his hand, but mirrored the surprise on your face when your son tried to link your fingers together, urging you to hold each other's hands like a couple. You didn’t want to get too offended by it, but your ex-husband was the first one to pull away. “I, uh, made a reservation for us in Carbone,” he said, unable to exchange eye-contact, “Yuuta will meet us there.” 

“Oh, he’s in New York?” you asked, pretending you didn’t notice how he acted allergic to your touch and redirected your attention to your son. “Did you hear that, Sachi? Uncle Yuuta will come and see you.” 

Your little one was oblivious to the world, too distracted by the throng of people surrounding the place that he didn’t even notice how his parents were uneasy with each other. To say that you didn’t feel bad for your son was a lie, because it actually broke your heart. Even if you and Satoru were working on co-parenting and making sure Sachiro wouldn’t feel the gravity of a broken household, you knew that when he reached the right age, all of this would still have an effect on him. One day, he would still be asking questions about his parents. Questions about why you separated, why your marriage failed, and why you had to move to New York while his father stayed behind. It hurt. Deep inside, it hurt so much to know that your only son wasn’t given the chance to have a complete family and it felt like a failure on your part as his parent. 

You were sure that was what Yuuta thought, too. As you met with him at a fancy restaurant in the city, you could see how his face lightened up seeing his nephew bonding with his parents as if it were a family vacation. He must have known what it was like to have a broken household. In fact, he had lived in a toxic one before, but he still grew up to be a mature and dignified young man who never let the horrors of his family’s actions affect his rational thinking. So if there was anyone in the world who would sympathize the most with Sachiro, it would be Yuuta.

“Sachi,” he spoke to your son fondly, wiping the sauce on the toddler’s chin. Yuuta chuckled as he watched the little boy's grimace after being given a small piece of broccoli. “You don’t like vegetables?” 

You fixed the bib on your son’s neck. “He does, but he’s very picky with it,” you tell Yuuta, glancing at Satoru who was busy speaking on the phone with Nanami about what appeared to be matters concerning the company. “Wonder where he got it from.” 

“Right.” Yuuta’s eyes turned into moon crescents as he smiled. “I remember nii-san being a little picky.” 

“You hear that Sachi?” you teased your son, who looked at you with his cute puppy eyes. You knew that if you had the ability to peak through his toddler mind, it would actually be full of fried chicken. The thought made you laugh. “Don’t be like daddy, okay? Sachi needs to have his veggies so he’ll be strong when he grows up.” 

“But…” Sachiro pointed to his father. “Dada is stwong.” 

Satoru chimed in at the conversation after having finished the call, “That’s right, Dada’s strong. Mommy could barely even handle me.” 

“Do you even know what we’re talking about?” You rolled your eyes, while Yuuta wanted to giggle, but chose to hold it back seeing the awkwardness of the situation.

Satoru shrugged and sat on his chair, eyeing the scrumptious dishes that were served to your table. He was acting like he hadn't been served more expensive meals before. “Have you tried the spicy rigatoni before? I heard it’s famous here.” 

You casually answered. “Yes. Toji used to bring me here every time he visited.” 

Look, you didn’t mean to overshare nor did you mean to make things even more awkward. You also didn’t mean to slap it in his face about how you were spending your years in New York with Toji. But Satoru, with his pride, took it resentfully. 

“Oh, really?” His words were the opposite of his voice. He was mirthless and full of unenthusiasm before changing the topic, redirecting his attention to his step-brother instead. “How’s Harvard?”

Yuuta eased the tension by making small talk, sharing details about his university life, and making sure he didn’t contribute to the growing tension. “I’m really just trying to survive this semester so I can go back home as soon as I graduate.” After taking a sip of his Cabernet Blend, he continued, “Like I promised, I’ll help you with the company.” 

You were happy, at least, to know that Satoru and Yuuta had fixed their relationship as step-brothers even after the whole incident with Nana, Eula, and their father. What used to be a relationship full of envy and competition finally became one that was full of mutual trust and support. Yuuta deserved that since he never once wished for his brother’s downfall, while Satoru also deserved to have a family member that had his back and helped him with the business without constantly fighting about inheritance. Because technically, Satoru was the sole heir of the Gojou family, and his dad only made it seem as though he would give it to Yuuta to make his own son comply with his orders. Satoru’s dad was controlling in that sense, and that was what led to all of this. 

But the present was more important. Things have changed and mistakes have been learned. It was all up to you on how you were going to manage your new life moving forward. 

Only, if only things were a little bit different on his side.

——

You had raised your son all by yourself for the last 3 years, so the presence of his father wasn’t really something you were used to for the longest time. How Sachiro acted around other people was solely a reflection of your teachings, discipline, and guidance as his mother. He didn’t really have a paternal figure up until now, and even if Toji was there to support your journey to motherhood, he never fully meddled with your mother-son relationship nor did he act like a replacement to Sachiro’s biological father. He loved him like his own, but respected the fact that the spot was reserved for Satoru. He knew that. He understood that, because he himself experienced raising a child alone without the presence of a mother. And if you asked him, he, too, would not want Megumi to replace the very love that he was supposed to have for his biological mom. Sure, Megumi could love and respect you, but Toji would still want him to save an unnegotiable spot for his mother in his heart. After all, she had birthed him. And in that same way, you had birthed Sachiro and created him with Satoru during your marriage. If there was anyone Sachiro should look up to, it had to be his father. 

And quite frankly, the father himself was doing an excellent job. 

But then again, remembering how hands-on Satoru was to you during your pregnancy, you never doubted that he would be a good parent. He may not be a perfect husband, but he loved his child with all of his heart and soul, and he would risk it all just to keep him happy. 

It was new to you how, throughout the trip, you didn’t have to take care of Sachiro alone. You and Satoru helped each other harmoniously, attending to your toddler’s needs and making sure he was being prioritized. You were glad. Truly. You were grateful to see that he wasn’t an absent father and that his words weren’t empty when he promised you that he would be a responsible dad to him. 

Though, at the back of your mind, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he welcomed another child in this world? A child that didn’t come from you? Deep inside, it hurt you to imagine him neglecting Sachiro on the side the minute he welcomed a new baby with Akemi. The reality was, the father would always prioritize the child of the current wife, not the child of the ex-wife. He would still support him, sure. But would he still pay the same level of attention that he was giving Sachiro now? You would probably break in half if Sachiro was thrown to the agonizing realm of feeling like an outsider in his own family because no child deserved that. If Satoru had that experience first-hand, he should not subject his own son to that same feeling.

You would be selfish to say this, but you wanted to seize the opportunity while Sachiro was still his only son. Hiding him from his father was your fault—you had gone through that a million times and you weren’t shy at holding yourself accountable through that mistake. However, you were already doing your best to make amends and make up for the years Sachiro had missed around his father. He was Satoru’s first and only child, and therefore he should never fight for his father’s affection. You weren’t sure what Satoru’s long term plans with Akemi were, but if they were considering having their own children someday, you would never allow your son to be pushed back at the bottom of the family tree.

Sachiro was the true first-born son of Satoru. He should never have to fight for his position in his father's eyes.

And so on the night of your flight back to Japan, when Satoru asked if he could take Sachiro with him for the rest of the week, you had no problems in saying yes. Your only wish right now was for them to spend as much time together as possible.

“Where are you taking him?” you did ask in spite of your leniency to send your son away, waiting inside the car as the pilot and crew prepared the private jet. “Please send me the full address. I need to know where he’s gonna stay and—”

“You’ll get the details from Miwa,” he casually said, rubbing Sachiro’s back as the little boy slept on his chest. He didn’t bother meeting your eyes as he talked. “I’m just taking him to my vacation home in Osaka.”

Osaka…

That was where his mother isolated him from the rest of the world when he was having terrible episodes. Episodes that worsened after he had found out that you ‘terminated’ his child and abandoned him for good. Shoko once said that they felt like Gojou disappeared from their lives while he was there, because nobody else could reach out to him. They couldn’t visit him nor could they contact him for a year or so until he was mentally ready to come back to Tokyo. 

You didn’t want to pry on matters that were sensitive to him, so you chose not to say anything concerning his decision to take Sachiro to Osaka. He must have wanted to reflect on his past experiences, allowing him to heal from them as it brought him to the incommutable life he had now—life knowing that Sachiro actually existed after everything that he was made to believe. 

“Please take good care of him, okay?” It was only a reminder, nothing else.

Satoru kept a straight face, nodding before he planted a kiss on his son’s forehead. “I got it from here.” 

After a minute of silence, you both got out of the car and you watched him carry the peaceful Sachiro in his arms. You left the sleeping toddler a tender kiss on the cheek before parting ways. “I love you, my baby.” Stroking his hair, you kissed his tiny nose. “Mommy will see you soon.” 

Satoru knew that you were staying behind. You had informed him of your plans before you even came here to the airport with him, explaining that Toji would be in Miami and that you had made arrangements to meet with your fiancé there. Satoru didn’t say anything much about it either, simply nodding his head at your decision and telling you to ‘do whatever’ because he was no longer a husband you should report your plans to. There was no hint of jealousy in his stance, but you couldn't miss the flicker of bitterness that did appear on his eyes for a millisecond. 

You didn’t even say goodbye to each other as you watched them board the plane. And he didn’t even bother looking back at you to tell you to take care of yourself. Not that you expected anything from him, but a quick goodbye would have been nice since you did spend the last couple of days together. Or perhaps, he was upset about the fact that you were staying behind to meet Toji? 

Either way, you were on your own now. 

It took some time for you to reach Toji in Miami. He had insisted on meeting you at the airport, but because he had to meet with a foreign investor, you headed straight to the hotel he was staying at. Funny enough, you couldn’t help but compare how different it was to stay in the same accommodation as your fiancé vs with your ex-husband and son. With Toji, nothing felt uncomfortable and sharing a room as a couple was as normal as it should be, but things did feel too formal and too forced. With Satoru, it felt awkward to share the same space with him, but since your son was there, it felt like home. It felt strangely close to home, like it was only right. That staying together as a family was what your heart wanted. 

Ever since Satoru went back to Japan with Sachiro, you had been feeling a wave of separation anxiety. Your mind was always left wandering towards them; how they were doing, where they were, what they had for dinner. You wondered if Sachiro was giving his father a headache. Smiling at the thought, perhaps he was giving Satoru a hard time changing his diapers. 

“Everything okay?” Toji, noticing your trance, put an arm around you as you two sat at the VIP lounge of the Miami Grand Prix. This was Toji’s scene. If Satoru was a fan of horseback riding and polo, Toji preferred big time F1 races. He even personally knew the racers, the type of cars they were driving, and everything a huge fan had to know. You weren’t all that familiar with these things, so it was a little hard to keep up with his lifestyle. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry,” you stammered, realizing how distracted you had been all this time. “What were you saying?” 

He drank from his glass of 30 year-old Macallan, downing the liquor like it was mere water. A cloud of disappointment settled over his features. “Not interesting to you, huh?” 

“No, I…” You made an effort to place a hand on his nape, giving him an apologetic peck on the lips. “I’m really sorry for zoning out. I was just… I guess I was just a little tired from New York.”

Toji placed a hand on your knee, sighing. “It’s fine. I was just trying to introduce the guys to you,” he said, scooting closer as he pointed to the racers. “You know that guy? Lewis Hamilton. He’s quite popular with the ladies,” then he moved his finger towards the other drivers, “And we got here for Ferrari, Carlos Sainz and Charles Leclerc, also fan favorites.” 

Your eyes suddenly caught sight of Gojou’s favorite car brand. “Um, how about McLaren? Who drives for them?” 

Unsure if Toji caught on or not, he did take a minute before feeding into your curiosity. “Norris and Piastri.” 

You wished you had any idea about F1 so that you could be as enthusiastic as Toji was at this event. He was at his happiest right now and you didn’t want to ruin it by being a boring, uncultured fiancé, because frankly, all these women around would have done a better job at entertaining him. Toji was very eye-candy and you couldn’t blame these models from glancing up at him, especially with how manly and suave he was, dressed like a picture perfect example of an old money businessman. The likes of him were the prey of these desperate influencers, willing to sell their bodies in exchange for a night with him. But truth be told, that was their way of living and you could never find it in yourself to insult them. You didn’t want to shame them for attempting to climb the social ladder because that was how they view money and success, or at least a faster ticket to it. 

As long as they didn’t try to make moves on your fiancé while you were around, you wouldn’t be so bothered by a few stares here and there. 

Neither was Toji. He must have experienced being stared at during these events plenty of times before, and he probably even sent women home crying because of rejection or worse, humiliation. Now that you think of it, how did Megumi feel when his father was being hit on while watching the Grand Prix? Most importantly, why was the teenage son absent at this current event? 

“Love, why didn’t you bring Megumi with you?” you inquired out of a sudden curiosity, knowing that Megumi was always present next to his father during F1 events. 

Toji took a sip of the hard liquor once more. “He didn’t wanna go. He was giving me the silent treatment before I left for the US.” 

Confusion further blanketed your eyes. “Did something happen back home?” 

He let out a deep breath, his face signaling that he was deep in dilemma. “The Zen’in elders want to set him up for an arranged marriage,” he revealed, much to your surprise, “They wanna make sure he’s not gonna end up like me, married to someone who wasn’t ‘qualified’ to be my wife.” 

At first you were confused if he was referring to you, but you realized that he was describing his late wife. Megumi’s own mother, the only woman Toji had ever loved by a mile. He fought everyone for her, even turned his back on his own family for her, but claimed that he also ultimately led her to her demise because the elders of his family harassed her until the day she died. It was a tragic love, perhaps even more tragic than yours, so you somehow understood why Toji was conflicted about Megumi’s personal life.

But you? You were strongly against it. “I don’t support arranged marriages, you know that,” you told him with conviction, sympathizing for the poor boy, “It’s not gonna end well. You know what happened to me…”

“I know.” Toji’s eyes were filled with regret. “I know, but there’s nothing I can do about it unless Megumi himself tells me he has someone he loves.” 

“Did you ask?” 

“He’s tight-lipped about it.” 

You sighed. “Well, he’s a teenager. They get pretty shy about these things.”

Forcing a marriage was never a good thing. You couldn’t understand why the concept even existed because it didn’t benefit anyone aside from the people around the married couple. That was why they called it a marriage of convenience. They were married for everyone’s sake but themselves; family name, status, business… You have had enough of it. If only you realized it from the very beginning, you never would have subjected yourself to a loveless marriage with Satoru. Even if your love did grow eventually, things still didn’t work out for the best, and now your life was a mess. A divorced couple co-parenting their only son? There was obviously no convenience gained in that false marriage.

Megumi would just be wasting years of his life tied to a person he didn’t love and so you were hoping that Toji would fight for his son’s right. Because if he truly understood you, he would not subject his son to the same suffering you went through. 

“I wish my wife was here,” mumbled Toji, forlornly, “She’d know how to handle these things better than I do.” 

Were you not there for him? You swallowed your pride, hiding the pain in your voice. “Right…” A smile was all that you could offer. “I’m sure she would.” 

——

Something was different about Toji and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

It wasn’t his appearance, and neither was it the way he spoke to you. He was all the same except for one thing; the look in his eyes. 

He had told you this before. He said that the eyes carry the most truthful and raw emotion that you can see on someone. The presence of love would be visible in someone’s eyes just as you would see stars on a clear, night sky. The lack, however, would mean that the eyes are blank and empty like the dark void in the expanse of the universe. You didn’t have to be poetic to be able to discern the way his eyes communicated his most solemn feelings in spite of trying to show otherwise. 

He must have been tired. Being caught up in your back-and-forths with your ex-husband, having to put up with your pretentious co-parenting situation, and the never ending need to keep an open mind about your situation with the same man who had ruined you. When your heart was in pieces, wasn’t he the one who tried to fix it? Wasn’t he the one who remained by your side during your darkest times? 

Whether that may be true, whether he truly ever loved you, you could recognize the stark difference of the Toji that genuinely cared for you to the Toji that was only actively trying to be there for you. What had changed him all of a sudden? 

“Toji, you drank a little too much.” A weary sigh escaped your lips, pulling all your might to drag your fiancé to lie comfortably in your shared bed later that night. At least, on the way to the hotel room, you had his bodyguards to thank for. They were there to haul him while he was in his drunken stupor, letting you lead the way, and dumping him carefully to his bed because there was no way you would be able to carry such a muscular man all by yourself. Now that you were alone with him, you decided to care for him the same way you used to do when Gojou was coming home drunk at night. Starting with his shoes that you took off, his shirt that you unbuttoned, his pants that you unzipped. “Come on, love. I’ll get you changed.”

The verdant hues of his eyes weren’t present. They were hiding behind his lids, refusing to meet your gaze. But if anything, he did open his mouth to speak, “...You. You wanna know a secret?” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts, you reminded yourself. Of the numerous times Satoru had gotten drunk during the early stages of your marriage, it was how you found out that deep inside him, he did care for you. That in spite of his ill-tempered exterior, he was a man deprived of parental love and support. What would be the case for Toji, then? 

“Yeah?” You waited for his answer, slipping his shirt off and revealing his toned body. 

The scar on his mouth moved when he displayed a mirthless smile. He was as drunk as an alcoholic would be. “I don’t… think… I can love you the same way I loved my first wife.” 

Your heart paused. In fact, every heartbeat became heavy. You knew how he felt, but didn’t expect him to say that out loud. “I-Is that so…?”

“Absolutely,” he mumbled, chuckling inaudibly. He was at a point where he was too far gone to realize the magnitude of the words he was saying to you. “Even if you try your best, she was everything I wanted in life and the only woman I could ever offer my heart to. She’s irreplaceable, and I don’t feel guilty about it... because I know you’re still into Satoru, too.”

“That’s…” You held your breath, holding back the sudden tears that formed in your eyes. “That’s not true.” 

Toji wasn’t done yet, however. He still went on with his drunken speech like he was finally pouring out raw, yet hurtful words out of the bottle. “Who knows? You would’ve had him touch you back in New York if you didn’t have me. You would’ve had him impregnate you, have his second child with you, and guess what? He still won’t be loyal to you.”

The pain in your heart increased tenfold. Everything went still and every minute felt like a stab to your soul. Should you say something? Should you get angry at him? No, no you couldn’t. Your chest was tightening and you knew it was smart not to let such negative emotions overpower you. His words were just a little difficult to grasp because Toji never in his life had been callous with his words to you. The tears that fell from your eyes were from the betrayal that you felt after hearing the cruel words he had uttered. And yet, you tried to hold on to that thin string of hope that Toji’s words didn’t come from a place of truth. 

“That’s enough, Toji. Go to sleep.” You pulled away, swallowing the bitter taste of weakness in your voice. 

He hummed, unaware of the pain he had put you through. “The more I look at you, the more I realize how much I actually don’t want to spend my whole life with you,” he admitted, with little to no regard for your current feelings, “I can’t fill this emptiness by being with another empty soul. And if there’s one thing I’m most grateful for, it’s that I let you run away that day before I fulfilled my vows with you—”

“Enough!” You shot up from bed and wiped the flood of tears on your eyes. “Enough! I’ve heard everything you wanted me to hear, okay?! Enough!” you raised your voice in despair, almost begging for him to stop tearing your heart asunder. “I get it! I fucking get it… so enough. Please, Toji.” 

Drunken words are sober thoughts.

A drunk mind speaks a sober heart.

Alcohol is a truth serum. 

The revelation of Toji’s true feelings that night was a reminder to you that he was just like any other man. That you should have never put him in such a high regard, thinking that he would be the prince charming that would save the poor damsel in distress. Why? What would he benefit from someone like you? You only deluded yourself into thinking that a man like him would take a single mother so seriously. You were only meant to be a placeholder for his dead wife after all. 

A placeholder, certainly. Not even deserving to have the title of a wife.

——

There was a huge contrast between being with you and Sachiro in New York vs being with Akemi and Sachiro in Osaka. The difference? There was no awkward air between Akemi and him. They were free to do things as they will—no restrictions, no certain do’s and don’ts. They were happy to have each other’s company, minus the guilt nor the unease of being by each other’s side. If anything, Satoru bitterly assumed that you were having the time of your life in Miami with Toji. You were so keen to see the man back there before parting ways with your ex-husband and son like you were simply discarding them to the side. 

If so be it, then fine. Satoru had all the right to have his son all to himself while you were gone. Besides, Akemi was just one call away and she was everything he could ever ask for. She cared for Sachiro as if she was his own mother and Satoru couldn’t be more grateful that he didn’t need to work on building a bond between her and his son. 

In fact, Akemi very much knew how to win Sachiro’s heart. As they took his adorable son to Universal Studios that day, she was nothing short of a caring mother. She had acted as a guardian to his son throughout the rides, letting the toddler enjoy his time at all the wonderful attractions that the theme park had to offer. Not once did his son cry too, so that only meant that they were doing a great job at taking care of him. 

Of course, it was a different story in the afternoon. After having spent all of his energy during the day, Sachiro had become tired and hungry by dinner time. But he wasn’t such a difficult kid to tend to, so Satoru was proud that his son still wasn’t throwing a tantrum even after a whole day of not having you around. 

“We’re gonna get Sachi fried chicken,” he enticed the pouting toddler, kissing his forehead while Akemi carried him in her arms. “Is that what you want?” 

Sachiro nodded and wrapped his little arms around his auntie’s neck. “Chicken, dada.”

Akemi smiled at the child’s gesture, tempting her to also place a kiss on his cheek. “You’re so cute and well-behaved, Sachi.” 

“—Satoru?” 

At the familiar voice, all three of them turned to the woman standing behind like a deer caught in the headlines. She was tall for a woman, slender, and had long, auburn hair, rosy cheeks, and ivory skin. Next to her was a tattooed man with salmon pink hair, a piercing on his ear, and a very defensive stance. Ah… How timely. 

Sera and Sukuna. 

Satoru wasn’t sure if he should openly greet them, after all, they weren’t acquaintances. And it was only recent that he got his memories back, triggered by Sera's presence at the expo. Other than that, he had no business with the two of them. Sukuna wasn’t a business partner of his, so him and Satoru had no formal connection towards each other. As for Sera, she might be his ex-girlfriend, but they didn’t exactly have the healthiest relationship to begin with, so…

“Of all the places,” she mumbled, almost gaping at the sight of him. Her eyes then trailed off to Akemi and Sachiro, with which her expressions shifted to guilt. Did she recognize his son? Did she remember the horrible attempt she did to harm his child during his ex-wife’s pregnancy? The memory was flooding Satoru’s brain like a tsunami. Yeah, in that case, Sera should definitely be filled with guilt. She tried to kill this harmless child. 

He cleared his throat, now becoming protective over his son at the presence of his ex. “We gotta go—”

“I guess it’s true,” Sera spoke again, this time redirecting her attention to Akemi. “The rumors, I mean. It’s all just surprising to me considering how obsessive Satoru was to Y/N.” She paused, seemingly wanting to comment at her ex-boyfriend’s current relationship in a mocking way. She kept her eyes on Akemi only, while Satoru was left wondering why Sera was acting hostile towards her. What was her deal now? She wasn't in the position to be acting all entitled to Gojou anymore, but here she was, talking to Akemi like she had met her before. “Did you know? He sacrificed everything for her. No one else made him beg on his knees the same way Y/N did.”

He couldn’t even tell how Akemi felt while Sera was clearly taunting her with her words, but she still managed to smile and excuse herself, keeping Sachiro away from an environment that should only be between adults. It was ridiculous, surely. What was Sera thinking trying to subject his son around that kind of hostility? Balling his fists, Satoru turned to Sukuna and spoke to him man-to-man. “You’d better keep your woman entertained so she’ll stop meddling into other people’s business.” 

Sukuna, however, found the situation equally humorous. “Don’t worry. We both are entertained.” 

Making a spectacle of Satoru’s personal life? No wonder they ended up together. They were both pieces of shit. 

Before Satoru turned on his heels to follow Akemi, Sera still had one last thing to say to him. This time, she was more calm and less malicious—her eyes following Akemi’s trail before looking back at him, “Satoru, if you have truly grown as a man, you won’t do this to Y/N.”

——

Sachiro was fast asleep when they returned to the Gojou clan's vacation home. 

Meanwhile, since the night was young for the two adults in that house, Akemi and Satoru shared a passionate session in the living room downstairs, letting her ride him as he placed soft kisses on her collarbone. They tried to keep quiet, obviously, and all the lights were turned off, leaving only the moonlight illuminating their view. After a few more minutes into their lovemaking, they eventually met their climax and tried to catch each other’s breath, embracing her in his arms as she fell limp against him. 

“Satoru, I missed you a lot while you were gone.” 

“...Same.” 

Silence engulfed them for some time until she let out an exasperated sigh. It was clear in her facial expressions alone that she was pondering about the whole scene with Sera earlier. “That girl earlier, Sera, she—”

“Don’t mind her.” Gojou closed his eyes and leaned his head against the backrest. He knew he had to clear things up straightforwardly, leaving no room for any misunderstandings. “She just loves riling people up. It’s ironic she’s coming at Y/N’s defense now like she didn’t torment her back then. She’s not worth paying attention to.” 

“Okay.” Akemi pulled away, cupping his face and stroking his cheek. She also offered him an angelic smile while doing so. “But you don’t feel that way anymore, right? For Y/N?”

Satoru took a deep breath, but steadied the movements of his chest. He felt defensive all of a sudden. “No.” 

Her smile grew more relaxed as she pressed a light peck on his lips. “Right.” And for a while, they both stayed silent. His thoughts ran straight to you, while hers was quite on a different route. “Earlier when I put Sachiro to bed, he called me his mama.” 

His eyes widened. “Oh… he did?”

She answered with a nod. “I don’t know if he’s just half asleep calling for his real mommy, but… At that moment, it made me realize how much I want to have my own,” she hinted at him, wistfully staring at his blue eyes with her shining ones, “with you.”

——

You didn’t take the flight back to Tokyo. 

What you took was an immediate flight straight to Osaka where you knew your son and your ex-husband would be. You weren’t sure if it was due to the height of your emotions, but you surely let your impulse win the best of you this time. 

You just wanted to escape. It was for the first time in your life where you were dying to set yourself free from Toji’s presence, the very same person who you once likened to a buoy in an open sea. Now he was no longer that. He was far from that. He was an anchor pulling you down at the deepest part of the ocean. Needless to say, the pain was still fresh from your heart when you took the earliest flight back home after his drunken confession to you. 

Despite the many missed calls and texts and emails he had sent you, none of them were returned. None of them were seen, or read, or had been replied to. 

All you wanted to do was get to your son. Your son. Your only comfort from all the painful things that the world has thrown at you. If not for Sachiro, you would have long ended yourself. But because he was born in this world, because he relied on his mother for love and guidance, you had to be strong and you had to seek the comfort in your heart from him. 

They could all turn their backs on you, but never will your son do. 

And so, after a few back-and-forth emails with Miwa to confirm the address of Satoru’s residence in Osaka, you ignored the jetlag that was hitting your body and traveled straight to his place without a wink of decent sleep. Sachiro. Sachiro was all you ever thought of when you asked your driver to drop you off the park nearby the Gojou clan's residence as soon as you spotted your son's mop of white hair, him running across the small bridge and pointing towards a fish in the pond. Your son was happily calling all the fishes, gushing about them to Satoru who stood next to him. 

You didn’t even care at how you looked during that moment. You just wanted to get to your son and embrace him in your arms. He had been away from you for way too long and you had already grown pale and sick from the separation anxiety that engulfed your heart and mind. 

You had to have your son. You had to hold him.

“Sachi!” you called out, a smile present on your face as you made your desperate way towards the bridge. Your son looked at you the moment he had heard your voice, and was already skipping towards you with a bright smile on his face. “My baby!” 

Satoru’s face, on the other hand, turned pallid. His eyes were full of surprise, unable to believe that you were actually right in front of him. It was like he had seen a ghost. No, worse than a ghost. Why? Did he not expect you to come when he had let Miwa send the address to you? Were you not welcome to visit your own son? 

“Mamaaa!” Sachiro hugged you tightly, allowing you to attack his cute face with kisses all over.  

“Mommy missed you so much, my baby.” You could almost cry. As young as he was, he had no idea how much comfort he was bringing into your heart. Just to be able to see him, hold him, kiss him was enough for you to feel complete again. It was at your brokenness did you realize how much Sachiro could fix you whole.

“Y/N, I thought you…” Satoru paused, confusion seemed to be settling on his features as you looked up at him. “You’re supposed to be back by Monday.” 

For a moment, you were reminded of the reason you came home earlier than intended and it stung your heart to think about. “Change of plans.” 

A small scoff left his lips. “Don’t tell me you left Toji back there.”

I did, you wanted to say. Satoru had no single idea how true his words were, but that was none of his business and you had no plans of confiding in him about what had happened. You may be angry with Toji now, but you still respected him enough not to do terrible things behind his back. 

“I had to see my son,” you lied, although it wasn’t exactly one, and got up while holding your toddler’s hand. “Are you ready to go home with mommy, Sachi?” 

Reluctance clouded your son’s face, and he became more resolute at shaking his head the moment a woman’s voice called for him from afar. A woman, a very, painfully familiar woman came into view a few meters away from you. Standing there was your best friend, Akemi Hirai, looking at you with wide, mortified eyes as soon as she saw your presence. 

And in a snap, Sachiro ran to her. Your son ran straight to her, joyfully and excitedly as if she was his real mother. 

How many more heartbreaks do you have to go through? 

How many more tears do you have to hold back? 

“I…” Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was on the verge of breaking down. All this time, your son had been in this vacation home living like a happy little family with your ex-husband and best friend. 

Now, he even refused to go home with you. 

Gojou scanned through the look on your eyes as though he was reading your emotions, but you showed none of it. Not a single emotion could be seen on your face. Not an ounce of pain shown, despite seeing how your son immediately forgot about you and headed straight to another woman. How excited he was to spend more time with his dad and his new girlfriend. How, much to your discomfort, he refused to go back to Tokyo with you. You saw the future family Sachiro was about to have without you in the picture, and damn did it hit you like a truck. 

Why, why did everyone in your life choose others before you? 

“I’m sorry. I’ll bring him to your house Monday morning,” said your ex-husband in a soft, delicate voice, almost as if he was being careful with you. “We’ll take care of him.” 

You could simply nod, avoiding eye-contact with anyone in the vicinity except for Satoru. “Okay...” you struggled with words. Your entire body was shaking. The last thing you wanted was to sound like a selfish mother, but frankly, you were about to self-destruct. “Just keep him happy… that's all I ask.” 

Behind your mask of indifference, Satoru knew what right words had to be said. You needed reassurance, and that was exactly what he gave you. “I won’t ever take him away from you, Y/N. I promise.” 

You watched them walk away, leaving you alone with a look of sympathy that you didn’t need. Sympathy that you despised having received. This should serve as a wake up call to you that no one in this world would ever love you. That even your own child would, one day, abandon you. 

As tears fell from your eyes, you felt a certain pang on your chest that hurt worse than every other pain combined. “You know you’re not so good with promises, Satoru.” 

[alistarascendance]

❝𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐠𝐨, 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧—𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧?❞

— in which, fabled legend Alistar returns from the Chasm decades after their descent, only to find themself faced with an issue: humanity, in their absence, has created a world of suffering, dilapidated by greed, and Alistar’s presence only continues to fuel their selfishness, as a living legend must kill… or be killed.

Alistar: Ascendance is a cyberpunk, dystopian romance interactive fiction that was originally intended to simply be a story, before its writer (me) decided to be impulsive and turn it into an IF.

DISCLAIMERS

this story will contain depictions of alcohol, smoking, blood, violence, profanity, mild gore, yandere behavior, toxic relationships, suggestive themes, discrimination, self-hatred, mentions of emotional and physical abuse, suicidal thoughts, an oppressive government, fictional languages and religions, real world philosophies/religions including but not limited to: cynicism, nihilism and atheism; a corrupt world, discussion of morals and human conscience, as well as other mature themes. this list will be updated as the story is written.

please keep all of this in mind while reading!

A gender-selectable MC, who you choose the name, personality, sexuality, appearance, and morals of.

A wide variety of choices to choose from that will impact your story, and the need to keep your MC sane (or just go batshit insane. That works, too).

5 male love interests + 1 secret RO, all of whom you can maintain a simply platonic relationship with if you wish, or you can just continue to flirt with them endlessly (+ a FWB relationship for some).

An enriching world and story, set in a cyberpunk dystopia (we know all of you are here for the romance though).

A powerful MC 😔😔

ROs (romance options, also referred to as LIs or love interests).

THE SURFACE DWELLER:

Seven. 21, Chaotic Good. Mechanic.

“The HIVE needs to fall. There are no exceptions—not even for you.”

The first person you meet once you arrive on the Surface, you and Seven have a unique bond. He’s got a reputation in the slums and Neon for being great at parties, but his friendliness can easily be read as something more.

Is it something more? Further observations will have to be made…

THE SURVIVOR

Saturn. 23, Lawful Evil. Bartender.

“Keep your head down, and you’ll survive.”

The quiet bartender has a curious perspective on things. He seems to have no problem with the HIVE members patrolling his bar, even serving them drinks like they’re normal customers, despite their heavy armor and edges that are too sharp to be humane.

He also doesn’t seem to be particularly interested in you in the slightest. Why’s that?

THE DIPLOMAT

“Is it better to live in quiet solitude, your voice stripped and taken—or would you rather have died, knowing your voice was the loudest amongst them all?”

Chain. 23, alignment unclear. Current occupation unknown.

He’s someone to keep an eye out for. While he hasn’t practiced his craft in years, he may still prove to be dangerous. Just as friendly as Seven, but far more difficult to truly befriend.

Obtain new information as soon as possible…

THE PUPPET

Judge me if you must. It doesn’t change the fact that I’m up here, and you’re down there.

Orion. 25, Lawful Neutral. HIVE operative.

The HIVE member patrolling Saturn’s bar. Part of something greater than he is, but he’s a part of it, regardless. Keep him around…

OTHER ENTITIES

Argos: Neutral Good. Age unknown. The deity whose spear you brandished, after his passing. He was a good man, but the fact only makes your sins rest heavier in your heart.

Teacher: True Neutral. Around ~200 years old. The chasm-dwelling shadow who taught you all you know of the Chasm and its residents.

Alistar: alignment unknown. Around ~200 years old. That’s you! You’re Alistar. At least, that’s what the world has been calling you ever since you ended the war and revitalized humanity, so that is what you will be referred to as throughout the entirety of the story. However, if you’d like to change your name (as Alistar is the default) you may!

As I am primarily an author (as in I literally have done nothing else with my life) I am new to coding (I took ONE coding club in fourth grade) and am trying to write out and perfect a chapter before converting it into typical IF form.

Once I manage to get things situated, I’ll started to code. I’m currently almost done writing chapter 4, so I’ll start working on coding once I finish it.

If anyone wants to read the chapters I’ve written until now, just shoot me an ask or message :)) I’d be happy to show you. otherwise, here are the ones I’ve posted so far:

CHAPTERS

CHAPTER ONE: COURTING DEATH CHAPTER TWO: THOSE WHO REMAIN CHAPTER THREE: TARNISHED DREAMS

asked to be tagged for new chapters!

[samkerrworshipper]

exile | alexia putellas x reader

songfic based off of the song exile by taylor swift

warnings: pure angst, hurt/no comfort, cheating (sort of), divorce

I can see you standing, honey

With his arms around your body

Laughin’, but the jokes not funny at all

Tonight isn’t much different from your normal Sunday night.

Barca had beaten Atletico convincingly early in the day, unsurprisingly.

Locker room celebrations had very quickly been moved to a popular Barcelona club, a place that a lot of your teammates were thriving in.

There was dancing, drinking, partying.

It was the Barca way, Sunday nights were a good time.

You were seated in a corner of the club, surrounded by the likes of Keira and Aitana, your more introverted group watching your friends on the dance floor.

Your eyes didn’t budge from your girlfriend, who was on the dance floor.

It wasn’t abnormal, Alexia was one of the first people to hit the floor after a good win, you were happy with that.

The part you were less happy with was who Alexia was choosing to dance with, and how she was choosing to dance with said person.

Alexia was tipsy, which was clear in her mannerisms and the constant laughter falling from her plump and beautifully red lips which were softly singing along to the song that was thrumming against the floor of the club.

She was in the middle of the floor, surrounded by other teammates, grinding up against Jenni to the beat of the music.

Their bodies were practically intertwined, Jenni’s arms tangled around Alexia’s waist whereas Alexia’s arms were reached behind her back, resting on the small of Jenni’s back.

It was almost pornographic the way they moved up and down against each other, more like an organised rhythm that was well practised in contrast to an alcohol influenced jig.

You don’t want to feel jealous, but you can’t help it when Alexia is grinding up and down on her ex girlfriend in ways that you wished she would to you.

No, the grinding, the public displays of attention, any evidence of love between the two of you, that had faded long ago.

I think I’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

You’re not my homeland anymore

So what am I defending now?

You’d love to be able to say that this isn’t a common occurrence, but it would just be a lie. Alexia is shamelessly attractive and dances like a stripper in all of the best ways.

You have appreciation for that, but a part of you always feels betrayed when Alexia so openly flaunts herself on somebody else, especially her ex, but it’s also something you’ve become accustomed to, whether you want to admit it or not, Alexia was never yours to keep, maybe for a short amount of time, but never long enough for her to take a permanent place in your life.

You don’t try and make excuses for her inattention to you anymore, not like when at the end of your honeymoon phase when Alexia started to drift.

It just hurt more, making up excuses when they were all untrue, you couldn’t defend Alexia’s actions, not to yourself, not to anybody on the team, not to the general public.

You were my town,

Now I’m in exile seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

For whatever reason it doesn’t bother you as much anymore.

You’ve watched Alexia walk out the door hundreds of times, and every single time she’s come back.

It’s some kind of weird toxic attachment where neither of you really love each other anymore but for whatever reason Alexia has chosen you to become attached to and you can’t do anything but sit by and watch as she detaches herself everyday only for her to reattach herself when she falls into your arms every night.

Once upon a time, Alexia was your everything, the reason your heart kept pumping, the solution to every single one of your problems.

I can see you starin’, honey

Like he’s just your understudy

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

The worst of it all, Alexia looks, Alexia dances, Alexia smiles that same way she used to with you. You wonder if she’d smiled at Jenni the same way when they’d been together, if she’d loved her so viciously before becoming bored with her.

Alexia dances with Jenni like they’re the only two people in the room, and you’re frightfully aware that if anybody were to even attempt to get between them Alexia would put up a fight.

Second third and hundredth chances

Battling on breakin’ branches

Those eyes add insult to injury

It’s not like the whole situation is new to you either.

There has been plenty of women before Jenni, and there will be plenty afterwards.

You’ve stopped trying to count the amount of women that Alexia has toyed around with whilst being in a relationship with you.

She doesn’t cheat, she doesn’t break that barrier, she dances, she smiles, she laughs, she gives away every part of herself that matters the very most to you.

Sex and libido be damned, you’d spend every single day of your life in pain if it meant you got to experience Alexia smiling at you once again, laughing or craking jokes in front of you.

Those moments, those chances, are long gone.

Her eyes, the beautiful greenish hazel orbs no longer bother themselves with you, it’s almost insulting how she so easily can smile at Jenni when she can never manage to even give you a little quirk of her lips here and there.

I think i’ve seen this film before

And i didn’t like the ending

I’m not your problem anymore

So who am I offending now?

You don’t even flinch when the dancing turns into an extremely intimately looking hug, the two women continuing to grind up and down on each other as they stare at each other with a kind of earnestness and conviction that would make any girls’ heart flutter.

Alexia long ago learnt that you would never dare to object to her rather unprofessional moments with her teammates, you didn’t have the heart to.

She didn’t care if she hrut you, didn’t care if it killed every single organ and burst every single blood vessel in your body if it meant she was having a good time.

You were my crown

Now i’m in exile, seein’ you out

I think I’ve seen this film before

So I’m leavin’ out the side door

Ever since your Alexia, your heart, your soul, your home, became La Reina, she hasn’t been the same.

She had her crown, she had her throne, she had the world beneath her feet.

You would never be good enough for her, how could anyone be?

It’s fine, you're used to it, you're used to the sideways glances at other women, your okay with Alexia partying with other women. What you aren’t used to, or okay with is Alexia making out with her ex girlfriend, right in front of you, in the middle of a club, with all of your teammates surrounding.

Suddenly, before you can think or breathe or do anything your standing up, before Keira can try to stop you and bolt from the club, finding the nearest door and pushing it open.

The cold rush of the Barcelona air in the empty alleyway is the only thing that forces you to take a breath, the brittle cold air forcing it’s way into your lungs and burning against your wet and tearful eyes.

So step right out, there is no amount

Of crying i can do for you

All this time

We always walked a very thin line

You don’t want to cry, not when subconsciously you are crying over a woman that hasn’t been remotely yours in a long time.

You are though, big fat tears are rolling down your face unceremoniously as you try to regain your composure.

You don’t ask much of Alexia, you don’t expect much when it comes to receiving affection from her or receiving anything much from her.

You do expect one thing, if she’s going to be in a relationship with you, then she is going to stay loyal, there is no room for infidelity in your life.

You can’t handle that, you can’t handle spending every minute of every day that you are apart from Alexia wondering what she’s getting up to behind closed doors. You trusted Alexia with one thing, and she managed to betray that one piece of trust you harboured for her.

You know that Alexia has always teetered on the line of things, often blurring the lines of infidelity, but she’s never crossed it, she’s never kissed another girl, she’s never stepped out on you.

So this, it feels like a train has hit you straight in the chest.

You didn’t even hear me out (you didn’t even hear me out)

You never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

You're not left out in the cold by yourself for long, the sound of the club side door opening, pulling you from your own mind.

Alexia is standing in front of you, hands fidgeting in front of her stomach as she looks at you, her front teeth biting down on her front lip as she tries to assess the damage.

“Bebita-I.”

You cut her off with your teary eyes and croaky voice.

“Ale I don’t want to hear it, I don’t want to know.”

The Alexia you’ve grown used to would walk away, leave you in the dust and go back to whatever fun she’s having, but she doesn’t.

“You won’t even hear me out?”

You look up at her, the tears instantly drying and your look of pure agony transitioning into something of anger.

“I won’t hear you out? Alexia you just fucking cheated on me, no warning, no signs, just kissed your ex girlfriend in front of me, I don’t want to know why, I don’t care, clearly you didn’t care when you were making out with another woman in front of me.”

Alexia bites down further on her lip, teetering on the edge of drawing blood as she observes you.

“It’s not like that.”

All this time

I never learned to read your mind (you never learned to read my mind)

I couldn’t turn things around (you never turned things around)

‘Cause you never gave a warning sign (I gave so many signs)

So many signs, so many signs

You didn’t even see the signs

You’ve known Alexia for ten years, you’ve been dating her for seven, married for four.

Those years don’t matter to her, they hardly matter to you anymore, but they mean something, you’ve devoted ten years of your life to a woman and sure, she’s not perfect, she’s everything but, it’s ten years of history though.

“It’s not like what? Alexia I can’t read your fucking mind, I can’t decipher everything you are thinking, so please, enlighten me, how the fuck is this not like that?”

Alexia, in all her years, has never seen you like this, you’ve never once raised your voice at her out of anger, she figures it’s a long time coming but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“Can we just forget about it?”

That hurts you even more, unless Alexia has a magical brain wiping machine, you know that neither of you will ever be able to forget this, your teammates won’t forget it, it’s not something forgettable.

“Of course, let’s just forget about it, god forbid La Reina ever had to put in the work to turn her shit around and get her life together and admit she fucked up, no we just have to forget about all of this. Let’s just go home, sí? We can go hop into bed together and I’ll just pretend that the woman sleeping next to me doesn’t have her ex girlfriends scent and kisses all over her.”

Your tone is cut throat, as harsh as a sharp knife.

“Nena, please.”

Alexia looks genuinely upset, and your kind of glad, she deserves to feel a fraction of what you are feeling, a slither of the turmoil and insurmountable pain that you’ve experienced in the last five minutes.

“Did I miss the signs? Was I so blind to realise that you love Jenni more than me? You sure kiss her like you love her more than me. God I don’t even remember the last time you kissed me like that. Our honeymoon? The first Ballon D’or? It’s been years Alexia, years of me sitting around waiting patiently for you to turn this all around, to realise that I love you more than anything else in the world. It’s fine, you want out, you can have out, I’ll get my lawyer to draw up divorce papers, I’ll move out, I’ll move clubs.”

Alexia’s face drops, that;s the last thing she wants, the very bottom of her list.

“Bebé, no, we can work this out, I’ll go to couples therapy, we can make this better, we can turn this around.”

You shook your head, a new wave of tears dripping down your face and onto your favourite night out top as you struggle to keep your composure.

“Alexia, I won’t be married to somebody who’s cheated on me, you broke our vows, sacred vows that we made in front of god. Marriage to me is a commitment, it’s a promise, you swore to me, for better or for worse, until parted by death. One of us might not have died, but a part of our relationship did when you kissed Jenni, I’m done, all the sleepless nights, the lack of love, the borderline cheating, you’ve toed the line but this time you’ve obliterated the line, so I’m done.”

You push past her, back into the club so you can collect your things.

You don’t even make it to the table before Keira has you in her arms, shielding you from the music and people.

“Need to leave, I need to go.”

Keira nods at you, Lucy has now joined the huddle around you, the two of them working together to keep you away from the eyes of any of your teammates or general bystanders in the club.

“We’ll get you home, let’s get you out of here, hmm? You can come back home with us, you're always welcome in our spare room.”

From back out in the alley, Alexia feels sick to her stomach, and there is not much more she can do than pick her phone out of her pocket and dial the only number she can think of.

“Mamí, I’ve ruined it all.”

[missinseg]

Robby and his second place trauma

Everyone wants to be first in every aspect of their life. Every person also needs to know that they are valuable and feel that they are a priority for someone. This is the same for work, school life and human relations. People are happy to feel valued and loved by someone.Then there are those who are always put in the background. For example, they are not anyone's priority. No one appreciates them for their efforts. Robby is one of the characters that is always put in the background in Cobra Kai series. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that he is the character who experiences this in the worst way.

Let's talk about his family first, for example. Her mother was one of those alcoholics who prioritized herself at the beginning of the series.She could easily leave Robby at home and go out of the country. While Robby wanted to spend time with his mother, Shannon preferred to go out with men.

His father,Johnny, was absent from Robby's life for 16 years due to his own traumas. When Robby met again with Johnny, a strange boy had already taken his place.Johnny said he was trying to change, but in five seasons he never put Robby first. He never thought of his son first. His dojo, his girlfriend , his girlfriend’s son,his rival, his students, and his own problems were always more important than Robby. Every child is unique for his parents, but even though Robby was only child , he could not manage to be unique and take the first place in his parents' eyes.

The situation was no different in his social life. His first friends we saw were with him for their own benefit. Afterwards, he became friends and even lovers with Sam. They were good with Demetri in the beginning, but the situation changed later. For Sam, Miguel was the priority. Demetri ignored him as if he had never had a good time with him.

Daniel was his sensei, one of the first people to care him and teach him good things. They had a great time together. He taught Robby many good things about life as well as karate. He played a big role in his change. But even such a person's first priority was not Robby. Daniel kicked Robby out twice. He was a good person but he was not the person who always there for him. When Robby went to Kreese instead of Johnny and Daniel, Kreese used him for his own purposes. I think Robby already knew this and went to Cobra Kai.

The second place followed him throughout his career. He competed in two championships but finished second in both.

In the 6th season, we see that the "second place" has become a trauma for Robby after everything that has happened to him which is a normal situation. In order to overcome this, he tried to hold on to someone who loved and valued him. He did it the first time.

Now that he has been betrayed by her too, I wonder how he'll get over this trauma and find balance. I hope everyone who has never cared about him until now will help him get over this trauma and put him first in their lives for the first time.

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ★ || hwang h.j & lee f.x

★ summary: hyunjin desperately needs inspiration for a painting that's due in his visual arts class. he has to paint the subject on a large canvas using nude colors. the problem is that he can't seem to find a model, he's asked everyone he knows, and it turns out that not everyone wants to sit naked in a uncomfortable pose for hours on end. not even his hyung, chan. well, there's always that really, really attractive boy in his creative writing class, hyunjin has spoke to him a handful of times, he would consider them to be close. hyunjin also knows the boy is a mutual friend of felix's. it wouldn't hurt to ask right?

★ characters: kang y/n, hwang hyunjin, lee felix, chan and changbin are only mentioned once, johnny from nct is also mentioned

★ warnings: threesome, sex on a large canvas, smut, oral (all characters receiving), unprotected sex, (wrap it up yall), nudity, paint in places it really should not be (none of it will be inside of anyone, of course), hyunlix are both whipped for y/n, college au, mentions of alcohol and weed, author says cock too many times to be considered normal, reader is called little doll a few times

★ word count: ~5.8K words (i got carried away again..)

★ requested?: yep, thank you to @belladonna6-6-6 for the idea !!

★ binnie's thoughts: when i got this request dm'd to me i just couldn't resist... hyunlix is just so sexy and i know they'd be the perfect boyfs … enjoy this filthy threesome !!

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

Hyunjin doesn’t know who to ask at this point. He’s asked every single person he knows (which is a lot of people, he’s quite popular on campus, mind you), and every last one of them either flat out said no or they had something to do that day. As he contemplates bribing one of his friends with food, he hears his roommate enter their shared dorm. Felix lets out a heavy sigh as he kicks off his shoes, placing them neatly on the shoe rack they built together during their second year. 

Felix is a great roommate, he knows not to touch Hyunjin’s expensive art supplies, and he always asks for permission before entering Hyunjin’s room or his art studio. He also makes the most delicious brownies and cookies Hyunjin has ever had the privilege of tasting. Felix likes his personal space, but he also is fun to talk to. The two of them like to curl up together on their super comfy couch, a weighted blanket draped over their laps as they share a large bowl of sickly-salty popcorn, a stupid and trashy reality show playing on their large television. They both know not to watch ahead of the other, because it’s their thing, you can’t just break the roommate code like that. It’s just part of the rules. 

“Hyun, what’s got you so upset? I can just smell the disappointment radiating from you.” Felix calls out, bending down to open their mini-fridge, the poor thing littered with stupid stickers of Pokemon and other random things. Hyunjin sighs again, this time louder as he throws his head back against the armrest, a soft thump coming from the impact. Hyunjin lifts his head up with a pout, his hand coming up to rub the dull throb residing on the back of his head. Felix lets out a chuckle, standing fully with a can of soda in his hand. Felix makes his way to the couch, tapping Hyunjin’s long, slim legs, a gesture telling the male to lift them up. Hyunjin lifts his legs, allowing Felix to sit where they previously were. Hyunjin lays his legs down on Felix’s lap, liking the way the younger male rubs little shapes on his skin. 

Felix’s hands are always warm, even after holding a cold soda or a cold beer in his grip. Hyunjin likes to feel the blonde’s hands dancing across his bare skin, soft, supple skin stroking him in all the right places. Of course they’ve hooked up. They’re both healthy young adults who have needs, needs that can’t be ignored for too long. Oftentimes, Felix will waltz his way into Hyunjin’s room and crawl under Hyunjin’s soft blankets. Hyunjin is a light sleeper, so any movement in his bed causes him to stir, his eyes squinting to adjust to the darkness of his bedroom. Felix doesn’t have to say anything, Hyunjin already knows the poor boy had a nightmare and needs a distraction. Well, Hyunjin’s idea of a distraction is filling the male full of his throbbing cock until tears are streaming down Felix’s freckled cheeks. 

“I can’t seem to find a model for my visual arts class. I’ve asked literally everyone. Not a single person said yes! Even Chan hyung said no!” Hyunjin whines, his hands covering his eyes as his lips contort in a pout. “And you know Chan hyung loves to be naked at all times of the day, so why would he say no?”

“Maybe because he doesn’t want to sit in a single pose for so many hours?” Felix asks, taking a sip of his soda, his eyes on Hyunjin. “Besides, you didn’t ask everyone. You didn’t ask me.” 

“I can’t paint the same person if I’ve already painted them once. I painted you for my final exam last semester, remember?” Hyunjin says, uncovering his eyes to look at Felix as he speaks. He had gotten a near-perfect score on that painting, and it currently sits in the school’s very own art gallery. 

Felix hums, remembering having to sit on the grass of the school’s garden, yellow flowers of all kinds surrounding him. He had a good time, except for when a bee decided to land on a flower that was next to his shoulder. Hyunjin’s wide eyes totally gave it away that there was something creeping beside Felix and soon enough, Felix was darting out of the patch of flowers. 

“So, I don’t know who to ask at this point. I could always paint myself, but then I would have to take pictures of myself and choose the one that’s best. That would take too long, so my best choice is to just paint someone else.” Hyunjin sighs, grabbing his phone to go through his contacts for the millionth time that day, hoping that he missed someone. 

“Wait, I might know someone who can help. I think you know him, he’s in your creative writing class.” Felix says, and Hyunjin is lost. He doesn’t talk to a lot of people in his creative writing class, most of the people around him donning headphones of various brands and kinds. Now that he thinks about it, there is one person he does talk to and has had plenty of nice conversations with. 

Kang Y/N, a rather quiet individual with a soft smile that happens to match his overall vibe. He’s a nice guy, always jumping to help anyone who needs it, whether that be studying or helping get rid of a nasty hangover. He just draws people in, the type of person you can’t bring yourself to hate. Only because he would probably just apologize for upsetting you enough to hate him. 

“Oh, yeah? Who is it, I’m so desperate at this point, Lix. I will literally paint Professor Shindong, it’s that serious.” Hyunjin says, trying to fight the shiver that creeps up his body as he imagines his professor naked. 

Felix lets out a loud snort, coughing as he covers his mouth and nose, fizzy liquid seeping in between his fingers. Through his coughing fit, his body thrashes with giggles and cackles alike. Why would Hyunjin put that cursed image in his head? Might as well add that to his list of nightmares. 

Felix finally calms down, wiping his wet hand on Hyunjin’s bare leg, causing the black haired male to playfully kick him in the side. “Let's not even go there. No, I’m talking about Y/N. You know, the same guy who gave Johnny a lapdance at his party?” 

How could anyone forget that night? It was truly… something. Everyone was drunk off their asses, some people stripping out of their clothes, some others dancing on tables. Bodies grinding against one another as the music courses through their drunken veins. Hyunjin and Felix had been there to experience the entire thing, even if the two were also very intoxicated. A game of truth of dare had broken out, and everyone resorted back to their middle-school selves, giggling as they grabbed their friends to join in on the circle of other party-goers. Hyunjin was dragged into the circle with Felix, the two of them stumbling as they fell on top of each other, eliciting laughs from everyone around them. They played the game, doing any dare that was thrown at them. The game got interesting when you were asked to give the birthday boy a special lap dance in celebration. You agreed with a nonchalant shrug, influenced by alcohol and weed, quickly made your way to Johnny, who was sitting on the couch, holding a conversation with his fellow hockey player teammates.

You just swung your legs over Johnny’s lap, the bigger male’s eyes widening as he welcomed the newfound weight on his lap. You rolled your hips in circles, your arms wrapped loosely around Johnny’s neck, feeling his growing length under your ass. 

Everyone stopped to look at the two of you, some people gasping while others cheered you on. Someone even threw a ten dollar bill at you. Once you felt that Johnny’s lap dance went on long enough, you peeled yourself off of him, going back to join the circle, a sultry sway of your hips as you walked. The night ended with Felix and Hyunjin stumbling into their dorm room, the both of them passing out as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Oh, god,” Hyunjin starts his face lighting up as he remembers the night. “It was Y/N who gave Johnny a lap dance! You would never expect that from him, but to be fair, he was drunk.” 

Felix nodded as he took in Hyunjin’s words. “Why don’t you ask him to be your model? You know who he is, so he isn’t a total stranger.” 

Hyunjin thought about it for a second. Felix had a point, you really weren’t a stranger to him, you shared a class together. You both often helped each other with writing assignments that had you stumped, and whenever you would see each other outside of class you always offered a smile and a wave to Hyunjin. Every single time you flash that pretty smile at him, Hyunjin can see the lights of heaven calling to him from above. 

“I’m convinced and desperate. Do you have his number?”

It isn’t often that you sit on a wooden stool, all of your clothes discarded as you look off to your right, looking out of the window, a solemn look on your delicate features. Actually, this is the first time you have ever done anything like this. Curse you and your need to please people when they ask you for a favor. Your left leg is crossed over your lower half, covering up your soft length. The window casts a soft yellowy-orange glow all over your naked body. You were testing out a few poses while you waited for Hyunjin to return with his mixed paint.

(Of course you have done some questionable things during your time in college, the most memorable one being that time you gave Johnny, the captain of the school’s hockey team, a lap dance at his birthday party last year. You were absolutely hammered that night, and Johnny never held that against you. The two of you still laugh about it to this day.)

Hyunjin stands in amazement as he stares as you pose so prettily on his wooden stool just a few short steps in front of his XXX-Large canvas. He knows he should probably start painting before he gets caught staring at you, but he simply can’t help it. He was surprised when you agreed to be his model, and he was even more surprised when you still agreed to be his model when he failed to mention that you had to be nude. He assumes it's because you’re the type who can’t find it in yourself to say no to anyone. He was shocked when you replied to his text pretty quickly, agreeing to model for him, asking for other details. 

Hyunjin shakes his head to remind himself that he has work to do and gets his paint, quickly mixing the colors he needs. Then, a lightbulb goes off in his head. He takes a look at his mixed paint tins, examining the colors. His eyes are darting back and forth, looking at the paint and your skin. He chews on his bottom lip before he picks up a deep brown color that’s almost black. 

“Hey, Y/N?” he calls to you softly, his cheeks heating up when you turn your head to look at him, a soft ‘hm?’ coming from you, your eyes wide and curious to hear what he has to say. 

“Is it okay if I place a hand mark on your thigh? I think it’ll look good for the theme of the painting,” Hyunjin asks softly, his head tilting to the side as he waits for your approval or disapproval. 

“Hyunjin, I’m simply your model, a lifeless doll for you to move and shape to fit your vision. If you feel that a hand print is what will set you apart from the others, then go ahead.”

Hyunjin could listen to you speak forever. You have such a way with words, it’s easy for him to get lost in the words you speak. Hyunjin might not survive for long if you keep buttering him up with the words you say to him and the way you say them. 

“Of course, I think the pose you were in was perfect as it was. So, if you could pose like that again, that would be perfect.” He says, covering his hand in a deep brown paint that he mixed up just a few minutes ago. 

Hyunjin’s hand is shaky as he walks over to you, his eyes scanning the naked expanse of your soft, milky skin. He counts the blemishes of your skin, noticing that you have beauty marks of various sizes and colors littering your skin. He makes a mental note to include those very marks in his painting. Hyunjin stands in front of you, his mind swimming with thoughts of you, and how truly honored he is to see you in such a soft light, naked and looking as beautiful as ever. He lifts his shaky hand and carefully places it on your bare thigh, not missing the way your leg jolts at the contact. 

“I didn’t expect it to be cold,” you let out a chuckle, relaxing once you get past the initial chill of the paint. You feel the warmth of Hyunjin’s hand on your thigh, and your cheeks and ears warm up, finally coming to terms that you are indeed naked in front of your crush. You crushed on Hyunjin from afar, deciding to just adore him from a distance, your friends attempting to hype you up to get you to actually speak to the male. That is until he spoke to you for the first time in class, his eyebrows furrowed, his expression telling you that he didn’t quite understand the assignment. You mentally squealed as you explained the assignment in a way he could understand. From then on, the two of you would have a conversation every day in class, giving each other ideas. 

“Sorry about that, I hoped my hand would warm it up enough so that it wouldn’t be so cold,” Hyunjin explains, removing his hand from your thigh, already missing the way your soft skin feels under his touch. “How about we get started? Just pose how you were a second ago, and keep that same expression on your face.”

As Hyunjin adds the final touches to his painting, you are in the bathroom, washing the paint off your leg. You hope the painting looks exactly how he wants it to, otherwise this would have been a waste of time. Well, not exactly a waste, you and Hyunjin had an amazing conversation as he painted you, the two of you learning more about each other to pass the time. You learned that Hyunjin has a pet at home who he loves dearly, and that he loves to paint vases with flowers in them. You also learned that he is pretty close friends with your cousin, Changbin. 

Hyunjin also learned a few things about you, the most shocking thing being how you are somehow related to Changbin. You had told him many stories of your childhood with Changbin and how big of a crybaby he was back then. Hyunjin wonders how someone like Changbin, extremely muscular and dedicated to working out, could be such a crybaby as a young kid. You and Changbin are so different, you being on the quieter side, with a soft voice and a soft face to match, while Changbin is a walking tornado siren, his voice distinct and commanding. Hyunjin also learned that you major in English literature, and that you want to become a writer one day. He smiled at the way you lit up as you spoke about writing and how it makes you feel, your eyes shining under the lights of his art studio. 

He hears you step out of the bathroom, and he feels your warmth behind him, your hand placed gently on his shoulder, his skin burning under his sweater where your hand lies. 

A soft gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the painting. It’s truly breathtaking, you’ve never seen yourself look so… soft and ethereal. No picture could ever capture you the way Hyunjin did. Hyunjin captured your solemn expression perfectly, adding sparkling tears falling down your cheeks. He painted every single detail of your body, every blemish and scar. He even included the splotchy birthmark on your right hip and the small bunny tattoo on the inner part of your arm. The handprint on your thigh is what catches your attention next, Hyunjin made it look smeared, wrapping around the meat of your thigh, tying the painting together perfectly.

“Oh my gosh, Hyunjin..” You start, and Hyunjin swivels his head around to look at you, a soft red on his cheeks as he just smiles cheekily at you. “This is amazing! How do you do it?” You comment your eyes not leaving the painting for a second.

“Well, when your model is as pretty as you are, you find motivation to make sure you capture that beauty perfectly.” 

You gawk as you finally look at Hyunjin, your jaw dropped open slightly. He thinks you’re pretty? You can’t help the way your heart beats heavily in your chest that you can feel it reverberating in your ears. You watch as Hyunjin stands up, his taller frame looming over you. Hyunjin doesn’t miss the way his wine red silk robe hangs on your frame, the material falling off your shoulders. You look up at him with wide eyes, face warm and lips slightly parted. Hyunjin brings a hand up to cup your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any discomfort or rejection. When he doesn’t find any, he slowly leans in close to you, and you meet him in the middle, your parted lips connecting with his as you both close your eyes. 

Your lips mold together easily, the two of you quickly adding your tongues to the mix. Hyunjin’s tongue fights with yours, saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth as a soft whimper spills from you, your legs feeling weak from the feeling of Hyunjin’s lips on yours. Hyunjin pulls away from you for a second, chuckling as you chase his lips for more kisses. 

“Patience, little doll, we wouldn’t want your pretty portrait to get ruined, right?” He says, taking the painting to dry in another area of the room where it won’t get ruined. As he’s placing the finished painting aside, his eyes land on a blank canvas that’s the same size as the one he just placed down to dry. He grabs the blank canvas, placing it on the floor as you stare in confusion. 

“Hyunjin, what are you doing with that? You aren’t starting another piece, are you?” You question, your head tilted to the side as you watch Hyunjin retrieve two mid sized buckets of paint. One bucket has dried and crusty paint coating the rim, the color a pastel blue that reminds you of the hydrangeas that your grandmother grew. The other bucket looks like it’s maybe a soft pink color. As you get close to look at the name on the metal bucket, you see that it reads ‘dusty rose.’ You had never heard of such a color, you wondered if it was dark or light. You may not know everything under the sun about colors, but the required art classes you took during your school years have taught you plenty. 

Hyunjin uses a flat tool to pop both lids of the paint buckets open, then he looks at you with a faux-innocent smile on his pretty face. There’s something swimming in his dark brown eyes, you can see it. “I want to make a masterpiece with you, little doll.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you catch on to what he means. He can’t really be serious, can he? This is something right out of a raunchy movie about a girl having a dom-sub relationship with a rich CEO that she works for. 

“Wait, you want us to– have sex on that canvas?” You question him, your voice small and quiet as you chew on your lip waiting for Hyunjin to reply to your question. 

“Only if you're comfortable, I won’t do anything that could make you uncomfortable. If you would much rather us fuck on my bed, that’s fine by me.” Hyunjin says with a smile, his eyes searching your face for any sign of uncomfortableness, but he’s only seeing a bit of uncertainty and a large amount of lust. That’s a good sign to him, you’re still in the mood to fool around with him, you just need a little bit of a push. 

“I– I mean, it could be interesting..” You say, trailing off as you have an internal battle with yourself. Did you really want to have sex with Hyunjin on top of a canvas, the two of you covered in paint as you roll around making shapes with your bodies? You would be stupid to say no to something like that.

“I need a real answer, cutie. Yes, or no.” Hyunjin says, now standing in front of you as he lifts your chin up with his fingers, making you look up at him. You gulp as you stare at him, trying to find your voice.

“Yes, Hyunjin.”

You find yourself covered in pastel blue paint, Hyunjin using his hands to rub the paint all over your naked body as he kisses you with fervor. Hyunjin stands before you, his body rid of all clothes, his lean body on display for your eyes. You think he looks like a god. The once orange light of the room, now darker as the night creeps in, dances across his body, turning his sepia colored skin a few shades darker. The sun is slowly sinking away to sleep, allowing the calmness of the night to take over.   

Hyunjin pulls away from the kiss and grabs the bucket of dusty rose paint, and prompts you to cover him in the paint as he did for you just a few minutes ago. And you obey, dipping your hands into the chilly paint, and you lightly shake off any excess that drips down your fingers. You bring your hands up to coat Hyunjin’s soft skin that reminds you of those tasty shortbread cookies you receive during the holidays. Your soft hands rub up and down his slim body, your mind racing as you wonder how you ended up here. The intense lust overrides all, taking over any doubts you may have had. 

Hyunjin locks his lips with yours again, his eyes closing as he hums into your mouth. You swallow any noise that leaves him, your fingers gripping his supple flesh as you dip your hands in the paint one last time. A sly smile crosses your face as you bring both hands around Hyunjin, lightly slapping your hands on his ass. His body jumps a little, not expecting such an action from you. He feels your hands grip his ass, a cute but evil laugh bubbling in your chest. 

“So it’s like that, huh?” Hyunjin questions, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows. He stares down at you as you nod. 

Hyunjin just shakes his head as he guides you to lay down on the canvas, his body hovering over your own body. Hyunjin trails kisses form your lips all the way to your neck, leaving a light sheen of saliva in their wake. You tangle your hands in Hyunjin’s long, black hair and you untie the hair tie that’s keeping his hair contained and out of his face. The hair falls gracefully, framing Hyunjin’s face perfectly. You feel goosebump litter your skin as his hair tickles your cheeks. 

As you keep kissing Hyunjin, his body laid on top of your skin, sticky from the paint, his body is keeping your legs spread. He’s rocking his body upwards, his soft abs rubbing against your growing length, causing you to moan softly into his parted mouth. His tongue is licking into your mouth, tasting the sweet pastries you ate before you arrived at his dorm. The taste is intoxicating to him, he just can’t stop kissing you. He loves how soft your lips are against his, and how they faintly taste like mint. You can feel the desperation in the way he kisses and touches you, the way his hands roam your body, the paint mixing together, creating a marble-like effect. 

“I could kiss you all damn day,” Hyunjin pants out when he finally pulls away to allow you both to catch your breath. Your body is buzzing with excitement, the feeling of Hyunjin’s creamy and soft skin rubbing against your hard length causes a pulsing thrill to course through your veins. Hyunjin can feel the precome leaking from your tip as it coats his body, giving him a nice glide as he continues to rub all on you. 

The sound of a door opening shakes both of you out of your dazed and lustful trances. You both turn your attention to the door wide eyed as the person pokes their head into the room. Your body immediately heats up as your eyes land on a mop of blonde hair. Blonde hair that belongs to your gaming partner, Felix. If you weren’t so clouded with high desire and lust, you would be embarrassed. But the fact that you’ve been caught under Hyunjin’s naked body makes your veins tingle. 

Felix’s soft brown eyes flick back and forth between you and Hyunjin, his eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown settling on his freckled face. You’re a little confused, why does he look like a kicked puppy? Is he upset that you and Hyunjin are engaging in such an intimate state of affairs? You want to cradle his face and kiss his frown away. 

“Oh no, Y/N. We forgot to include poor Lixie. What kind of friends are we?” Hyunjin says as he looks at Felix. Hyunjin waves Felix over, gesturing for the blonde to join in. Felix walks into the art studio, his eyes falling on your body. He takes in the way your legs are spread open, the pastel blue paint coating your skin, with small amounts of dusty rose paint mixed in. He so desperately wants to join you and Hyunjin, and he’s almost positive that you want him to join in as well.

As Felix stands there, not entirely sure what to do, you speak up. “Hyunjin, is Lixie going to be joining us?” You ask. 

“We have to make it up to him somehow, don’t you think?” Hyunjin says, and you nod in agreement. Felix’s face warms up, his cheeks and ears turning a soft red color as his heart pounds heavily in his chest. “Come on, Lixie. Get undressed and join us.”

Felix wastes absolutely no time in ridding himself of his clothes. Once he’s fully nude, he kneels down beside your head, his length hanging heavily between his legs. You examine his naked skin, noticing that his freckles don’t stop at his cheeks. You notice the light scattering of freckles on his thighs and stomach and you want to kiss every single freckle. 

Hyunjin helps you sit up, and he stands up. “Why don’t you make it up to him, Y/N. Give him plenty of kisses to show how sorry you are for leaving him out. I’ll be back in just a sec.” Hyunjin says as he goes to get some more paint for Felix. 

You turn your body and look deep into Felix’s eyes. You notice flecks of light brown in his eyes. His pupils are blown wide as he looks from your eyes to your lips and back again. You both lean in at the same time, meeting in the middle as your lips connect. Kissing Felix is very different from Hyunjin. Felix’s lips aren’t as soft as Hyunjin’s, and the chapped skin rubs against your own lips in just the right way. Fe;ix slides his tongue inside your mouth as his hands find their place on your hips, rubbing little circles on the flesh there. You hum into his mouth as you scoot closer to him, and you find yourself on top of him as he pushes your hips to grind your hard cocks together. 

Hyunjin watches you both make out for a while until he’s setting a paint bucket down, causing you to break your kiss with Felix, but not once letting up on the grinding. 

“Y/N, why don’t you cover Lixie in some paint? We wouldn’t want to leave him out of this masterpiece, would we?”

After you all are messy and covered in paint, you find yourself on your back as Hyunjin is buried deep inside you, his hips moving at the pace of a snail. Felix is hovering over your head, his cock buried inside your wet, warm mouth. Hyunjin and Felix are kissing messily above you, drops of their mixed saliva falling on your body. You’re whining, the sound slightly muffled by Felix’s cock being forced down your throat. It burns a little, but not in a bad way. You were no stranger to giving blowjobs, but you’ve never taken one that was the size of Felix. He was huge, to be frank. His cock is thick too, you wonder how someone as slim as him could live with such a monster cock. His cock stretches your throat nicely, it makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Look, Lixie. Our little doll’s eyes are rolling to the back of his head. I guess we’re doing a good job of stuffing his holes.” Hyunjin teases and you can hear Felix chuckle as he thrusts into your mouth, and you can feel his short wiry pubic hair touch your chin. You let out a choked noise when he does, spit falling from the corners of your mouth. 

“I guess so, Hyun. I have an idea, though.” Felix says, pulling out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. He sits back on his heels as he watches Hyunjin stop the slow thrusts of his hips. “Let’s see who can make our little doll cum the fastest, yeah?” Felix says, knowing Hyunjin can’t resist a little competition. 

“That’s a perfect idea, Lixie. Why don’t I go first since I’m already inside him?” Hyunjin says. Felix agrees as he grabs his phone to keep track of the time. He sits down by your head again and he starts the time. 

Once Hyunjin gets the go-ahead, he starts to slam into you at a brutal pace, causing you to arch your back off the canvas. You let out a high-pitched whine as you feel his hands grab onto your left leg, placing the limb over his shoulder so he can pound into your tight heat much deeper. You cry out, Hyunjin’s name falling from your lips as your body bounces from the force of his thrusts. 

Hyunjin grunts continuously as he loses himself in the pleasure. His dark hair is sticking to his forehead and his neck as the small art studio quickly heats up. He can feel the sweat dripping down his body, little drops falling from his nose and into his mouth. He brings his hand to wrap around your angry length, stroking it fast and matching the pace of his hips rocking into you. It doesn’t take long for you to cry out, long and loud, as you spill all over Hyunjin’s hand, the milky white liquid splashing onto your chest. Your body shakes with pleasure as you feel Hyunjin paint your inner walls white with his release. He pumps himself inside you a few more times before he pulls out, watching as the white liquid drips out of your hole. 

“Four minutes and twenty-two seconds, Hyun.” Felix says turning his phone to Hynnjin to prove that he isn’t lying. 

“Huh, not half bad. Think you can do better, Lixie?’ Hyunjin says. There’s a teasing lightness to his voice, and Felix tuts, handing the older male his phone. 

“Tch, of course I can do better. Just watch me.” Felix says as he crawls over to you. He helps you get on your hands and knees. You let him move you, your mind still reeling from the way Hyunjin just railed you like it was nothing. 

As you hold yourself up as best as you can, you feel Felix’s length slide its way into you. You feel full, a soft whimper falling from your lips. Hyunjin starts the clock, and Felix is fully inside you, his tip kissing your prostate without him even having to try. He lets you adjust for a few short seconds until he’s absolutely slamming into you. He hits your prostate dead on, and you can already feel that tight coil in your gut beginning to unravel. You let out a string of curses as Felix abuses your hole, your cock dripping in between your legs. You can’t hold it anymore at this point, and you feel yourself gushing all over the canvas below you. You cry out, tears falling down your cheeks as overstimulation takes over your body. You feel your arms giving out as they wobble. Hyunjin, acting fast, makes sure you don’t fall flat on your face as he slides under your upper body, allowing you to fall into his lap. Your ass is still up in the air, your hips held tightly in Felix’s hands. He thrusts a few more times and he finds himself spilling into you, his cum mixing with Hyunjin’s. He pulls out of you, using his thumb to push any cum that attempts to drip out of you. 

“Well, looks like you win, Lixie. Three minutes and seven seconds.” Hyunjin says. There’s a pout on his face, not really liking the idea of losing. He’ll have to get over it, because the only thing he’s worried about right now is making sure he and Felix didn’t break you. He strokes your hair as you lay on his lap, breathing heavily, your body twitching every few seconds as you come down from such an intense high. 

“We should really clean up. The paint is drying and getting crusty.” Felix says, picking at the soft purple paint that’s drying on his skin. Hyunjin nods, and a smirk creeps onto his face. 

“Round two in the shower?”

Oh good lord. Someone please help you. 

[alyona11]

Ok time for my big Hadestown hot take and that’s that West End Hadestown doesn’t give you a 100% Hadestown experience. It’s still ridiculously good and 100% worth seeing, don’t get me wrong (I used my opportunity and saw it twice and will likely see it again if I’m in London), but it kinda made me realise a couple of things about OBC production that will always be my Roman Empire and make me deeply upset Broadway is too greedy to give us an OBC proshot.

So, here are some of my thoughts and reflections based on seeing Hadestown live on West End + seeing different versions (including London National theatre proshot) in boots. I think you can pretty solidly say that in Hadestown there are 2 main stories: Orpheus/Eurydice and Hades/Persephone. And even though arguably Orphedice is the main most important story, it my opinion it also wins from Hadesphone story being strong. Which works perfectly in OBC due to Amber Gray and Patrick Page delivering a very deep nuanced performances as their characters.

I think part of the success of Hadestown when it works on its fullest is how it creates a very deep emotional journey. And I feel that regardless which pair of Orpheus and Eurydice you have (if we take Broadway/tour/West End take on the characters) it’ll still work! Like you need to try really hard to mess up orphedice the way people wouldn’t root for Orpheus or wouldn’t empathise with Eurydice because they are so relatable and cute. You instantly love them, they are so so lovable. So orphedice part is one thing in Hadestown that imo works if not always then in 99% of the cases.

Hades and Persephone’s part of the story in the contrary is VERY hard to nail on 100%, in my opinion, and this is literally driving me crazy. Maybe seeing Amber Gray and Patrick page in professional recording awoken some feelings in me, I don’t know. I will state straight away that I also do enjoy other actors’ takes on characters and I do see some very interesting character moments there and there. However, I keep returning to the thought that Amber/Patrick’s characterisation works SO WELL for the main narrative. I’ll try to explain why I think so. Consider it my love letter to the OBC.

First and foremost, I feel like Hadesphone story has a very fine dynamic that the actors have to nail, so you would feel that: 1) these two still love each other; 2) these two are buried under their problems and see no way out, only a miracle (aka Orpheus and his song) can save their marriage.

And if the first one usually works at least due to Epic 3, the second one, imo, often (at least partially) falls victim to acting/directing choices which can cause troubles with point 1 as well. I think one big thing I’ve noticed is that often Persephone’s alcoholism gets forgotten in the acting performance. Like yeah sure her choreography includes drinking from a flask but in comparison to Amber you never get a feeling that she is absolutely wasted. Which, is in my opinion something that you should feel when you’re watching the show and something I was constantly forgetting about when I was watching the show on West End. I feel in Amber’s performance you can constantly see that her Persephone’s feel good attitude is a façade of a broken person who knows that her marriage is going to hell in front of her eyes yet she is too passive and hopeless to try to make an active change (well, she does try in Chant and nothing happens), so her only way is to chase the sense of normality that the “medicine” gives her. But when she is alone, if you get to catch a moment when people are not looking at her, you can see a deep sadness under her positive front and her memory of the old days when everything was more simple. Nevertheless, the main point that the lyrics literally say is that Persephone is blinded by the river of wine. And this is crucial to her character and her relationship with Hades because the story states that even though Hades is a problem and he is an active actor in creating more problems, he is not the only failure in this relationship. Persephone needs to be woken up from her apathy almost as much as Hades does and this is something that we see during If It’s True.

From Hades’ side I feel like it’s not a good decision to make him a total villain because when he is irredeemable you don’t feel like the whole “song that will fix the world” has any chance of working long term. I think Patrick nailed a deep antagonist very well. His Hades is weird and lowkey creepy and alien. He does objectively bad things but when you look at him you can’t stop thinking that he doesn’t operate in regular human logic or morality. When I look at him in Chant, it feels to me that his words about building stuff to impress Persephone are absolutely sincere, and I can absolutely see that his Hades doesn’t understand why she is so upset about it when his intentions are so so clear. Maybe it’s my vision but even before Epic 3 when he is so far gone and buried in his projects and messed up ideas I don’t have a single doubt that Persephone is a single motivator and goal of Patrick Hades’ life and that he literally doesn’t need any other being to care about. And tragically this fixation is what makes him blind to all other things he does even if those things ruin Persephone’s life (and other people’s but tbh I don’t think he cares).

I feel like by removing Persephone’s Chant 2 verse Hadestown created more problems for Hades and Persephone part of the story making it a much harder job for the actors to prove to the audience that Hades and Persephone have a chance to make their relationship work. Like I get that maybe it was a necessary things to do (even though I think the show is much better with it) but it made it so much harder to empathise with this particular part of the story unless the actors use the choices that work in the narrative. Because for example when I was watching the show on West End part of me was wondering “what is Persephone’s deal in all of that, what does she win by staying with Hades?” With the verse, and with Broadway Previews or London 2018 in particular this part was clear: Persephone still loves Hades and believes that he has the opportunity to change and become a better man he used to be. Without the verse, however, the actors should give you the same idea during the show which is a hard task considering Hades and Persephone have only 2 big conversations together (Chant and How Long). So apart from those songs there are only subtle mostly silent moments they get together through which the actors have to convey the same thought which is hella difficult and probably hardly will be appreciated by anyone apart from the people who sit closely.

So, maybe because in the actor combo I saw (Zachary and Lauren), I got a feeling that even though they were great separately, I didn’t feel much chemistry between them as a pair. I think, Persephone seemed pissed and tired of Hades all the time until How Long and I didn’t feel that she still believes in his willingness to change. And Zach Hades despite being entertaining, kinda gives the impression of Hades who has other options, he is not into Persephone enough. The only sparkle appears between the two in Epic III which is still cute but I’m not sure if it works just as well if that’s the first time you see the show? Also considering Zach Hades gives more malicious intent in His Kiss, The Riot it seems that he is not even slightly interested in Orpheus having any opportunity to succeed with his quest. Which is not bad, don’t get me wrong! But in comparison to Patrick who is deeply self projecting into Orpheus to the point where you could see that even though he doesn’t want to let him go, part of him does because it would prove he too could succeed in his challenge of waiting for Persephone, this take seems a bit lacking. And overall because of His Kiss, their promise in Wait For Me doesn’t seem as giving much hope that the story won’t repeat itself next Sunday. Which in its turn makes Orpheus’ sacrifice feel a bit… worthless. If on Broadway, when Orpheus turns, but spring comes again you feel like it is the start of something new: hopefully a kinder and softer time. On West End the show also wants you to feel it but when you think about Hades and Persephone you feel…less certainty that this sacrifice will have a long term effect?

I guess the creators wanted to concentrate on Orpheus and Eurydice more and forget about Hades and Persephone by making them more secondary story or maybe there was a lack of director’s involvement to give the cast some hints on how to make this particular part of the story work better, but it feels to me that in its current state the show works in its 85% power which is still great but once you know there is something missing you can’t stop thinking about it and wishing the show would give you those 15% you crave.

[comicglitterr0909]

write abt william afton falling for y/n after he realizes that y/n is also a murderer

I gotchu

Warnings kinda: Its a little dark with murder and everything, I kinda go into detail bout it, cursing, TW mentions of slitting throats and blood.

Murdering people isn't really the normal person's hobby. But it's mine and I'm not necessarily ashamed of it, I mean I know it's wrong but it's fun so who cares. I snuck my way into this abandoned pizzeria after seeing a few teens sneak in as well, I figured it would be an easy target. I make my way through the open garage door, following closely behind them, unbeknownst to them. They start joking about drugs, alcohol and mistreating women, how funny. Y’know, I think I'm doing something good with this kill. They all split up and go their own ways, perfect for me.

I decided to go for the strongest one first, so the others will be easier for me. He’s some jacked teen looking around the kitchen area. Using my 12 inch perfectly crafted knife, I sneak up behind him, slitting his throat quickly and easily. I stand and admire the blood gushing out of his throat for a couple seconds, before dipping my fingers in the liquid and drawing a smile on the floor next to him. There are 3 teens left, two are together, and one is alone. I hear the lone wolf shout for the one I just killed.

I had to decide whether I wanted to scare them and freak them out or just quickly do it, who am I kidding? Obviously I'm gonna scare the shit out of them.

I move the dead dude's body, so it is leaning against the refrigerator, then I use more of his blood to write on the fridge, “Behind you”. I then see a crowbar leaning against one of the shelfs, it's like it was left there for me. How did I know this was gonna work, I didn't, but might as well hope it does. I hide behind a shelf so that once the lone wolf walks into the room I can go behind him and well, stab him. Just like I had planned, he walks in, hearing his gasp and immediate fear is like music to my ears. He walks closer to the fridge, ah damn, he has bad eyesight, whatever I'm sneaky. I walk behind him, until he can read “Behind you”. I can tell he read it because he freezes up, and slowly turns around. To which I used all my might to hit him in the face with the crowbar I found. *BANG* And he hits the floor, knocked out cold, the only problem is it did make quite some noise. 

Since it was pretty loud I quickly moved to the other room, looking for the others. I make my way into a room that has a stage and a bunch of seats, that's when I see them, to the side of the room, pressing a large button titled “showtime”. I quickly duck behind a booth so they don’t see me while some freaky animatronics play “Pumped up Kicks by Foster the People”. To be honest that is the perfect song to kill a bunch of losers too, its like the animatronics knew I was there, cute.

I sneak behind the booths, while one kid sits down and the other is standing up close to the animatronics. I use my knife this time and press it against the kid sitting downs throat, shushing him until the other friend turns around. The horror on their faces really never gets old. The friend got to watch as blood poured from his friend's throat. Unfortunately for me, the friend turned to anger, and ran at me, trying to attack me, I fought back, surprised that he was attacking me, he didn't seem like the type to do so. I was about to win until I swear I saw one of the animatronics start moving after the song ended, it distracted me and he grabbed the knife from my hand pressing it against my neck.

Just as I thought I was gonna get a taste of my own medicine, some 6 '5 guy grabs the teen who was about to kill me, then he throws him halfway across the room like it was nothing. And god damn when I tell you I've never been more attracted to a man in my life. 

“Before you try and kill me like the others, I do this shit for fun too.” He says, helping me stand up. I look at him suspiciously, trying to figure out if he’s bullshiting me, looking him dead in the eyes. I guess he knew what I was thinking, so he walked over to the guy who he just threw, using the knife he plunges it deep into the kids eye socket all while grinning. I smile at him. “So, what's your name handsome?” He turns around, his shirt soaked in blood. He walks up to me, taking my hands in his. “William. William Afton, and yours?” “Y/N Y/LN” “Such a beautiful name dear.” I smile softly, looking into his eyes and for once feeling, love. He reaches up and wipes a bit of blood off my chin, cheesy but romantic for a killer. “We should go on a date sometime.” I suggest still smiling, he nods. “I would love to.” And thus started a deadly love. 

[milogreer]

so uhh this is gonna be scatterbrained. but i'm gonna ramble about milo and (what little info we have on) colm. sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense i just had to exorcise this demon 🫡

i believe "camping with your alpha boyfriend (2021)" is the earliest mention of colm in an audio. obviously we don't actually know milo's side of things because it's told from david's POV, but we still get the mental image of little thirteen year old milo sitting shotgun in his dad's pickup as they drive to their camping spot. gabe's goofing around in the truck bed to make david and asher laugh, and colm joins in the fun by swerving the truck to mess with gabe. very basic dad thing to do, my dad's done the exact same thing to me and my siblings. it feels familiar and silly, and david frames it as a good memory, so it feels like a good memory. which is important to the point of this post

in "celebrating the new house (2022)," we get a little more colm lore:

My dad was forever blowing any cash he made on fucking bets and gambling and shit, chasing some fucking high. My mom was the only reason we didn’t end up out on the fucking street. He didn’t pull his head out of his ass and get some help until after I’d already moved out. So I never got to have that feeling of being in a house that was actually ours, ya know?

already this is a stark contrast to what we've previously heard of colm (i don't think there's any real mention of him between sept 2021 and dec 2022?) and it kinda makes me look at that old memory in a different light, especially with regards to david saying marie was "nagging [colm's] ear off about being irresponsible and a bad example." like. ykwim? like i'm just thinking about that interaction and wondering how far along those problems were at the time, if they were present at all. was this a normal, fun family outing? or would milo have rather been in the truck bed with david, asher, and gabe?

(and the fact that it wasn't until after milo moved out that colm tried getting any help?? i could make a whole other post speculating about milo struggling with wanting to move out of that environment ASAP vs not wanting to leave marie on her own to deal with colm)

so then i'm re-listening to "your werewolf boyfriend is worried about you" and having a visceral reaction to (re-)learning that colm was also an alcoholic:

But what he chose to do with that frustration and that feeling of powerlessness was not his job’s fault, those were his choices. He’s the one who decided to lose himself in booze and gambling and never being home. Never being there for the people he said he loved but apparently couldn’t stand to be around.

the last sentence especially is just an absolute heartbreaker because milo's, what, thirty now? and he's been dealing with this since he was a kid. clearly he's not on great terms with colm. the only times he ever talks about him is when he's shit talking the department. that is a crazy weight for someone to carry their whole life. i don't have experience with the gambling side but i do have an alcoholic family member who i used to be really close to as a kid but grew up to intensely resent as a result of his actions, so it hits a little close to home to see that reflected in milo

but i digress. umm. i bring up the camping story to highlight the most recent mention of colm from milo and how there were good times and sometimes maybe it hurts to remember them when the person involved devastated you as you grew up because they weren't what you thought they were. and how these things follow you through life and impact how you approach certain things. milo has to live with the fact that the same system that royally fucked colm is potentially going to do the same thing to the love of his life; i never drink more than one shot or half a beer, if i drink at all, and i don't like being around drunk people. even though we don't hear about colm very often, his influence is still there whenever milo has to deal with the department in any way

anyway i guess TLDR; imagine living the majority of your thirty years of life feeling like your dad couldn't stand to be around you because he was too busy drinking himself stupid and gambling away every penny he had as a way to deal with the strain that his job put on him. imagine having to witness your mom struggle constantly to keep you cared for. imagine the few good childhood memories you have with your dad being overshadowed by thinking he didn't love you or your mom enough to change. imagine watching the department run your soulmate into the dirt physically and mentally the same way it did your father and wanting to be supportive of them but also being so worried for them. it's a really interesting situation for him to be in and i enjoy it but it hurts me. the end

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use, lots of mentions of death, sexual themes

a/n ⇢ this one is long - 2.5k words, but i think its my favorite so far!!!!! also please lmk what you guys think in my inbox!

“YOU’RE GLOWING,” Harry teased as Peter shut their apartment door last weekend.

Peter Parker found himself slightly swooned by his evening guest. Days would pass, and Peter would find himself daydreaming like a schoolgirl about when he would see her again. The only problem was he forgot to get her number.

Shit. 

He would sit on his couch and open his laptop, watching as the search engine glared back at him. Think, what would be the best place to start? 

The Trenton! 

That has to be her last name. Duh! And what do you know, a Y/N Trenton does exist! Thousands of results show up. You name it, it's there. Even old news articles.

Should he message her on Facebook? No, she’s older but not 40.

Instagram. Great. On his computer, he sees that she has 10k followers and 162 posts. 

Wow. She’s stunning. He shouldn’t, but he scrolls a bit, finding some old photos. Dozens from her USC days where she had blunt bangs and florescent pink lip color. 

Scrolling down, he clicked on one of her at a college party. He scrolled through the page to see the five other pictures on the post until he eventually stopped. The photos were covered in a golden filter, with Y/N practically devouring this one dude's face. 

Maybe not devouring, but she looks pretty happy kissing his face. He was blonde, with light eyes, nothing like Peter. It stung a bit, but it was from 6 years ago. It couldn’t mean anything now. 

But what in the world was he going to say to her? Peter was so lost, he never had to slide into a girl's DM’s. Eww, it was so odd to think about that. 

“Hey,” he typed out before deleting it, maybe three times with varying amounts of y’s and e’s. 

Then there was “Hi,” or “Hiiiiiii,” or “Sup girl.” No, please do not think like Harry. 

“Hi, Y/N. Remember me? Would you like to meet up for lunch this Thursday?”

“That seemed relatively normal. Right?” He murmured under his breath but, he scratched his head as the pondering developed into pure confusion.

“And, send,” Harry announced after hovering over the couch and Peter’s shoulder to send the DM. 

“Harry!” Peter shouted. “Why the hell would you send that?”

Harry grabbed the laptop after hopping over the couch and Peter snarled as he sat by him. 

“I’m just doing you a favor?”

“Really? First, you tell me to put myself out there, which I do. Next, you butt into my personal life, sending messages that I have no idea were a good idea or not! I mean, why can’t you just leave me alone? What if she doesn’t want to see me again!”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Harry smiled, watching the screen from his lap.

“How the hell would you know?”

“Just see for yourself,” he announced as he turned the laptop around. There sat a reply, 2 seconds ago from Y/N.

“I’d love to.” It read, and Peter smiled to himself for his sweet date this week.  

“You’re welcome.”

“HOW’S SCHOOL?” Y/N asked, walking down the New York City street.

“Hard,” Peter informed, walking alongside her. “Finals are coming up before the break, so I’m studying as much as I can before the weekend is over.”

She nodded, turning her body sideways as she slid between moving bodies. 

“Wow, this is so cool!” She smiled, running up to the nearby paper stands. “The new Spiderman comics. My brother loves them, but I have never seen them in person.”

Peter giggles at her fascination with the book, watching as she flips through the colorful pages. “I never read them, but I always see them on the corner.” 

Peter raised his brows as he gazed at the array of colorful printed books, “Wow, there are hundreds of them.”

“I know, but he always gets them as soon as they come out, or they sell out quickly.” She informed as she closed the book. “I’m talking like he’s a 10-year-old kid. He's a little older than you.” 

He laughed, pulled out his wallet, and gave the cashier some change. Her mouth gaped as he executed the gesture, Peter then putting a small hand in front of her. "I insist. What do you think about Spiderman?”

Y/N looked between Peter and the book, her brows furrowing as she looked at Peter, “I think the work he does is cool. I don’t know much about him, but people love him.” 

"Mostly."

"Yeah, but I feel like those who dislike him are just mad at the fact that they don't have super cool web lasers that shoot from their arms," she laughed, making arm gestures to imitate the hero with her hands, and Peter then laughed. "He's making an impact on the city."  

Y/N gestured towards the printed comic in hand, looking at Peter’s expression, “Like at The Trenton, a local artist is doing a sculpture of multiple 3D spiderwebs layered with these comics and Spiderman newspapers.”

“I’d love to see it.” 

“You can. The only thing is, it won't be ready for another 3 weeks. I can take you to the opening,” she informed. “I will say, I think a lot about who he is. Is he a rogue cop? Some sort of scrawny underdog?” 

She spoke as she began putting the book in her bag as Peter paid the cashier. “Whoever he is, I think he’s a hero.” 

He felt a bit flattered at her sentiment, smiling as he listened to her interest in him as what she called “a hero.” Those words left the mouths of few but when they did, Peter filled with gratitude.

The phone in his pocket began to buzz, and Peter lifted it into his palm, “Damn it.” 

"What time is it?"

"A little past one." 

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to make this cake for a friend, and my Aunt says she can’t come over to help me later.” He informed. 

“I could help.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, placing his phone back in his pocket as he hesitated, “Sure.” 

THEY FOUND THEIR WAY BACK TO PETER’S APARTMENT, Y/N giggling as she placed her bag down. “And you thought that was okay?”

Peter rubbed his nose, curling his lips as breathy chuckles fearfully left his lips, “I was 14 and thought the frosted tips were a ‘look.’” 

“It was definitely... a look.” She said, widening her eyes, moving them across the apartment  “Last time we were here, we uh…”

“Yeah,” he laughed, his eyes squinting as they met hers and laughed in a delightful unison. “I could use a drink. Beer?”

“You have nothing else in this house to drink?” She laughed, “College boys, I swear.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, walking over and opening the door to his fridge.

“I’ll take one.”

“And I’ll get this recipe open. Feel free to look around.��� 

Y/N moved around the apartment, looking at shelves and trinkets of stored memories between Peter and his roommate. Some shared, and others individualized. She moved to one of their bookshelves, grazing her fingers along the spines of varying albums and books on their shelf. She stopped at the one bright pink book, resting in the corner and drowning in the bland sea of book covers. 

The hot pink album was coated with foam stickers and glitter, some getting on the shelf and Y/N’s hands as she opened the book. 

Flipping to the first page, there sat a picture of Peter receiving a kiss from a girl with platinum blond bangs and pale skin, her fingers painted a baby pink nail color. 

“Who’s this?” 

Peter swallowed, as he placed two beers on the counter. “Gwen.”

“Why do you have this album with her in it?” 

Her tone wasn’t mad, more curious for his answer, “She made it for me when we were together.”

“And you still have it?”

“She passed,” he informed, raising his brows as his hands slid into his front pockets. “Around 6 years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He repeated, looking at the book in her hands. 

“I overstepped.” She stated, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. 

He shrugged as his lips began to curl further inward on his mouth, “I said you could look around.”

It remained silent as Peter settled more ingredients on his center kitchen aisle, Y/N creeping closer in delicate footsteps, careful in their newfound silence. She sat on the barstool in his kitchen, folding her hands carefully into a neat knot in front of her.

Peter reaches for and guzzles his open beer. He locks his eyes on the ingredients, his long lashes fluttering as the cold liquid slides down his throat. Peter places the empty bottle on his counter, speaking softly as the beer bubbles build in his chest. “Why don’t we make a cake?”

“Okay,” she nods, revealing her smile as she moves to Peter’s side. “What kind?”

“It’s weird, I know, but salted caramel.” He stated, and she jutted her neck backward. “Exactly.”

“Where should I start?”

Peter swiftly travels to the speaker on his bookshelf, blasting rock music and nodding as the beats echo inside his apartment. Y/N’s head finds the beat as the song rushes beats over her stance. 

They whisk themselves around the kitchen, taking turns putting ingredients in the wet and dry bowls as the rhythm picks up under them. Peter reaches for three more drinks, the bottles clinking as they pile up in his trash can, and he wipes his lips free of the smeared alcohol. 

“I didn’t take you for a dancer?" She chuckled as he shook his head on her face, his brown locks tickling her features. 

“Me neither,” he yelled, lifting his head as his words fought with the blasting music. 

With each bottle, his moves got sloppier, and Y/N laughed each time a new move developed in his repertoire. Smiling, his eyes crinkled as he jounced his chest to the down beats of the song. Y/N laughs at his lack of rhythm, and Peter pulls her by her arm to his chest. He whisked Y/N to the kitchen island, swirling her in the air, and settling her down next to the now-panned cake batter. 

He leaned in close, kissing her lips, the wheaty beer taste sizzling on her lips. The kiss was sloppy but sensual as his tongue dipped into her mouth. He pulled her in deeper as his hand slung down to her lower waist, Y/N then pulled away as the oven beeped behind them. 

“The oven,” Y/N whispered as she pulled away. “You should put the cake in.” 

“Right, the cake.”

“WATER?” Peter asked, throwing his body next to Y/N on the couch.

She gave him a knowing look, playfully shoving him as he sat, “You first.”

“Pfft,” he waved, sinking his body on the furniture. “I’m fine.”

His words slurred as his drunken eyes wandered to Y/N’s figure. ”Peter, are sure?” 

He huffed, pointing a finger to his bookcase, “That girl, Gwen. The one you saw earlier in the scrapbook…”

“Her favorite was salted caramel...everything. Salted caramel coffee, salted caramel chocolate, salted caramel ice cream, and especially salted caramel cake. She had it for her birthday every year.” 

“And when is her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.” 

Her lips formed a thin line as she scratched the open part of her chest. She immediately nodded as she pushed her legs from her chest, Peter moving his eyes down her body.  “I don’t want your pity.” 

She raised her brows as she chuckled, the air seeping through her teeth, “I wasn’t going to give you any. Why would you think that?”

“Everyone does.” He wavered. “They all want to tell me where I need to be, when to go out, when to...date. When to talk about her, when not to talk about her.” 

“I mean this, truly, in the nicest way.” She began, placing a hand on his leg. “You said it's been 6 years? Why do you still care about what others think?”

“Because I don’t have much family left,” he informed, slurring his words as he flailed his loose arms in the air. “I need to make them happy.”

“You don’t need to, you want to.” She corrected. “And if they truly loved you, as long as you are happy, they wouldn’t care. At all.” 

“You’re right.” he trailed, “But, I’m not happy. You’re the first date I’ve had in 6 years.”

“You were in high school!” Y/N exclaimed, hitting the back of her hand gently on his shoulder. 

He shrugged,  “I still could have put myself out there in college.”

“Not everyone finds the love of their life in high school and college. Believe me.”

“What does that mean?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked towards her feet, “Nothing.”

Peter put a hand on her knee, leaning closer to her figure, “Tell me.”

“I was engaged to a man I met in college,” she began, glancing vaguely at the left hand in her lap. “About three months ago, he died in a car crash.”

Was it the guy from her pictures?

Peter’s expression softened as he reached for her hand, pulling it to his. “M’Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” she began, her voice softening as she avoided eye contact “I found out, the day I met you, he was having an affair with his secretary. And now, she’s asking for some of his things because she claims, 'he loved her too.'” 

 “Y/N”

“Like you said, I don’t want your pity. I’m okay.” 

“I’m too drunk to give pity,” he slurred, drooping his head to her knees, inhaling as he leaned on her body, forcing her to drop her knees, and his head fell in her lap. She ran a gentle hand along his head, rubbing it slowly along his head.

He lazed in the physical contact, before grabbing her hand from his head. He pulled it to his chest, moving it to the cadence of his soft speech, “Vanilla.” 

“What?” she questioned. 

“You smell like her. Gwen,” he began, raising her hand to his nose and inhaling her scent, “Gwen used to wear some perfume. I forgot the name. I think it was like Vanilla Palm Tree or some sugary scent. I only remember she always smelt like Vanilla mixed with…beach.”

She chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his grasp, “Vanilla mixed with beach? Peter, you are drunk.”

“No no,” he assured as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s… It’s Vanilla Palm Tree.”

“I should leave.”

“It’s why I stayed and brought you home from the bar…”

Y/N felt as the smoke smell rushed through her airways, “You don’t smell that?”

“Smell…smell what..” he muttered as his limbs went limp.

“Peter!” 

Grey lines of smoke trailed the ceiling of his apartment, and Y/N shot up to Peter’s kitchen, “Lightweight...”

[yuyuswrld]

O Captain, My Captain || 1

series intro here, or read chapter 2

characters: reiner x reader (this chapter), various aot boys x reader.

notes: this is an 18+ series, please don’t interact if you’re a minor! reader is referred to with she/they pronouns.

content warnings: explicit smut, fingering, reiner eating pussy like a god!!, alcohol consumption, degradation, mild slut shaming (?), mentions of marijuana at the end

“Has he always been a bitch?” You question Marco, inhaling bites of your ramen. He shrugs, “We’ve both been on the team since freshman year and I’ve never had a problem with him. Maybe you’re the problem?” He meets with dead silence as you stare up at him from your bowl.

“Funny, Bott. I’m just not looking forward to spending so much time with him, if he behaves like that, anyway.” Exasperation visible, you slump in your chair to think. “It’s not like he’s on the sidelines. He’s the damn captain, which means I have to talk to him a lot.”

Marco shrugs. “You’re being dramatic. He’s a pain sometimes, but he’s not that bad. Just try to be nice to him, please. Eren won’t get any nicer if you’re mean. Plus,” He stops to take a bite of his food, “we don’t have the time for fighting. We’re expected to go to nationals this year, and that’s not happening if you two scare each other off.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, Bott. I’ll see you at practice later.” Uncrossing your arms and brushing off your legs as you get up from your seat. Okay, sure, Eren has yet to be anything except slightly dismissive and maybe just a little shit. He hasn’t actually done anything to you. You toss your bag over your shoulder before thanking Marco for the meal and dismissing yourself.

As the time for practice draws closer, you collect your thoughts as you stand outside the cold metal doors of the university’s second largest gym. Sure, you went to a school notorious for its D-1 volleyball, but the gym’s size was excessive. The high rise bleachers felt as if they would swallow you alive and the walls would collapse in. They had before. You remember the bile pool in your throat as the sports cameras flashes ate at your failure and spat you back out. Like a gazelle running from its predator, your body craves to run away from the glorified arena ahead of you.

“The fuck are you standing in the doorway for? Are you going in, or what?” Is it wrong to want to choose violence? Couldn’t he just say excuse me or ask if something’s wrong like a normal person?

Ugh, you should choose peace and not mess up a good opportunity. Just think about the money and all the nice things you can buy.

“I’m obviously just trying to get in your way.” You push the door open and walk into the gymnasium, not bothering with holding it open for Eren. In fact– hopefully it hits him! 

You hear the door fly open again behind you and a bag hits the ground with a loud thud. Eyes landing on the congregation of men in jerseys surrounding a smaller man, you beeline over to them. As you near, the smaller man, who you assume to be Coach Levi, locks his gaze with you. Is he… angry? Concerned? It’s impossible to determine what he’s thinking as he continues to stare.

“You’re not pregnant, are you?”

Your jaw drops. You’ve met more people in your life than you can count and never did a single person start a conversation in such a way.

“Not as far as I’m aware of…?”

“Okay, if you do what Hanna did, I will rip that baby out of your-”

A blond kid speaks up, “Um, Coach, you probably shouldn’t be threatening them on the first day. I just don’t think it’s a good idea to do that when we really need someone to organize our itinerary and keep practice stats. We’re nothing if we don’t have those numbers.”

“Fine, Arlelt. You and Braun stay here, explain how game statistics work and start having her do one-on-ones after. Performance evaluations for all of you.” You watch as Coach Levi’s eyes hover over Eren, who looks less than pleased. You’re not sure what’s going on there, but also can’t bring yourself to care. “Rest of you can go practice.”

As you glance over at the two boys who stayed, it throws you off that you’ve seen both of them before. The little blond one, you’re pretty sure his name is Armin. You’ve seen him walking around with Eren before, but he always looked so out of place in how gentle he is. You’re pretty sure you watched him bump into a trash can and apologize.

The other, however, you don’t think you’ve ever seen a man with such a commanding presence. He’s well-built. You’re pretty sure even a Greek god couldn’t hold up in comparison. You scoff internally, ‘it’s always the fucking volleyball players.’ But there’s something that lingers on your tongue, a conversation revolving around him. Then it hits you, Petra’s gossipped about him before!

“There are some really cute guys on our volleyball team. Did you know that?”

“Not this again, Petra. We’re supposed to be doing our biology homework.”

“Bitch, please. Let me speak. Anyway, there’s this guy on the team, his name is Reiner and oh my god- that is one fine ass man. He’s built like a tank engine. Not only that,” she says, a little giggle follows. “I’ve only heard this from two girls. He says he doesn’t like to hook up a lot, but his head game is insane. Like cum in a minute insane.” 

You stare, “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible, Petra.”

“I don’t know! Hook up with him yourself and you can give me all the juicy details afterwards.” You can only sigh in response, disturbed by your best friend’s inability to study.

But, here he was in the flesh, all 6’2 farmers tan of him. You couldn’t possibly do something so scandalous on your first day, could you? You shake the thought out of your mind as Armin talks.

“Volleyball stats are relatively easy to get the hang of. You just need to watch pretty closely. Even if you do miss something, we record them and you’ll go back through with Eren to make sure everything is recorded properly. Then, you’ll want to convert the numbers of each hit, serve, and pass into percentages compared to how many times it occurred per set.”

Reiner laughs, just a small one, but lord it’s like music to your ears. “Armin, you’re dumping too much info on them at once. It’d probably just be best to just show them the ropes visually and they can go from there. C’mon, let’s have coach set up the camera and record the three-on-three’s that they’re doing now.  We’ll watch the game, I’ll have you watch me record it, and then we’ll go back over it while watching the tape later.”

You nod, feeling just a hint of warmth across your face. Is this even possible, to have a school-girl crush in university? Those days were supposed to be behind you, but you can’t help but have the smallest bit of a smile as you follow him and Armin to speak with Coach Levi.

As you watch Reiner and Armin record the stats, your mind spins with utter confusion. You’re beyond lost, unsure how they’re even keeping up with the sheer amount of movement the players are doing. Dig? Write it down. Set? Write it down. You want to groan, or maybe even just go get dinner as you feel your stomach rumble.

As practice wraps up, your stomach rumbles in pain once again as it craves its next coddling. Reiner glances over from where you two stand, finishing up showing Coach Levi the statistics and getting a dismissive, “make sure it’s right,” instead of an appreciative response. He smiles at you, looking down.

“Gettin’ hungry?” He asks.

“Beyond hungry,” you say, shoulders dropping in defeat. “I’m being tortured. I haven’t eaten since noon. It’s 7 now! It’s criminal that you guys would starve me for so long.” You tease Reiner. He only responds by glancing at the gym door where most of the boys say their goodbyes before tapping out for the night.

“Y’know, I’ve heard I make a mean rice bowl.” 

It didn’t take much convincing for you to follow him back to his dorm room as practice winds down. Upon sitting across from each other at his make-shift dinner table, you learn Reiner is one of the middle blockers, coming at no surprise to you when taking in consideration to his stature. Although, you also learn he was from the countryside and this scholarship was his way out.

“Y’know, I always kinda dreamt of moving to the big city and being able to do what I love. But it’s crazy, man, I still can’t believe I’m here sometimes playing for the top university on the island.” 

Hearing the passion in his voice, you question if it’s right for you to intrude as a manager. Is it okay for you to be in charge of the livelihood of the men who’ve come so far and done so much for their passion? The men who could very well play on Paradis’ Olympic Team in the future? The concern is quickly shoved into your mental locker to be returned to as Reiner asks about watching a movie over some post-dinner snacks and beer. A much needed chance to relax after endless studying, you agree chipperly and move over to his plush couch.

As you two get halfway through Inglourious Basterds, you feel his arm wrap around you and his head turn in your direction. The alcohol running through your system has you heating up just from the skin contact. You blush as Petra’s words return to the forefront of your mind. You turn your head to face him, eyes interlocking with each other. His eyes signal a look of need, not want. You’re not sure if anyone’s ever looked at you like that before. Like a hunter who’ll starve without the meat of the deer he’s trailing.

“You’re so fucking hot” He mutters, you’re surprised a man of his stature can be so quiet. “I don’t think I’ll last with you as our manager.” Reiner closes the gap between the two of you. There’s a slight metallic tinge on his lips, but it’s addicting in the worst of ways and only deepens the experience. You two continue, allowing yourselves to sink into the couch, your body hitting the arm rest. His kiss moves from your lips to your neck, hands beginning to roam until they find purchase underneath your shirt. First, he plays with your bra before making his way under. Reiner moves his lips from your neck gently, almost like he’s scared of making a mistake. He helps you pull your shirt over your head and follows by removing your bra, his delicate touch unhooking the backing.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” you coo to him, lust-filled gazes connecting. “Please, I like it a bit rough, I swear.” He groans into the valley of your breasts.

“Don’t say that shit, I might break you.”

You can only laugh at his words, unfazed by the prospect, if not even more turned on by it. 

“Holy shit, please do,”

“In that case,” He says, voice lower as if weighing his options internally. “Don’t blame me if you limp to practice tomorrow.” Reiner helps you remove your pants before his fingers begin to dance over your body again. The touches are soft as they ghost the outline of your skin, your heart beating as you wait for him to soothe the ache between your legs. You attempt to rub them together for a semblance of friction but his arms find their way to keep them split. His gaze shifts up to you, eyes narrow as if disapproving of your behavior. Reiner’s face then begins to move lower, tongue licking a stripe up the inside of your thigh as his fingers begin to dance over your clit. He moves his face over to meet his fingers, tongue flattening against your clit, which draws a moan of approval from you. It seems evident that it spurs him on further as he begins to speed up his tongue, then switching to sucking your bud and having his fingers delve lower to your hole. Reiner holds eye contact with you as he begins to press one of his monstrous fingers inside of you. 

You can only make a noise of approval as he pushes it further in, approving of how well even one of them feels inside. It heightens your pleasure as he thrusts it forward, keeping his tongue dancing and sucking against your clit in a flurry of movements that have you questioning if Reiner is really a man and not a god in disguise. As he pushes a second large finger in, you cry out much louder than you should be in the dorms. You bite down on your lip to withhold any further noises, but Reiner puts a complete pause on what he’s doing.

“Keep moaning, baby. Let them hear how well you’re getting finger-fucked right now. This is what Armin wanted to be doing to you right now, did you know that?” He lets out a deep laugh, lips and face glistening in the dim lighting of his tv. “Bet you’d like that, though, huh?” His fingers move again and you gasp. “Yeah, you’d fucking love it if I bent you over and fingered you from behind to show off the entire team what a good little pocket pussy you are.”

That’s what tipped you over the edge. In fact, it’s probably disrespectful to feminism that you allow yourself to be finger-fucked while getting off to the disgusting words spewing out of the blond’s mouth. But social constructs be damned if this man didn’t stick his dick in you soon. You clench around his fingers as they continue to move, despite your cum gushing over his fingers.

“You’re fuckin’ nasty. But you’re still not ready for me.”

His face returns to its original spot, blowing hot air on it first as you wriggle at the stimulation. Reiner only adds another finger in response, allowing the three large digits to stretch you out before moving them once again. It feels as if you’re melting around his fingers as your back arches to the stretch. Despite slight discomfort, it’s overwhelmingly pleasurable to feel the expertise in his ways.

It’s not long after he adds another finger that you feel the coil in your stomach once again. As his tongue laps at your clit with a technique unknown to you, you’re about to unravel against his touch once again.

“‘M gonna cum,” you pant out desperately.

“Do it, cum on my fuckin’ tongue.” He replies approvingly, allowing you to take the time you need to ride out the rush to your body. For a second, you feel as if you’re floating in the way your back arches off the couch and your head spins in pure ecstasy. You glance over at Reiner, eyes fixated, as he removes his pants and reveals the thing you’ve been so curious to see. It matches his stature in almost every way, which makes you cringe at the thought of him fitting it in.

“You said you like it rough?” It’s a trap, that much you’re sure of. You glance back down to examine how large he is before you reconfirm, but before you know it, the condom has slipped on and he’s making his way back to you. He asserts his way on top, arms on either side of your head as he leans in to give you a quick kiss. It catches you a bit off guard, the earlier metallic taste has changed into the taste of your own cum and there’s a slight wince as you taste it. You can’t tell if this man is slightly depraved or hot as hell.

“I asked you a question. It’s not nice to ignore me.” 

A loud smack to your clit resounds as you let out a sharp, pleasure-filled gasp. 

“Yes, please,” you whine. It’s slightly pathetic, how you’re behaving for this man, but god be damned if anything were to impede your moment. 

He only grunts in response, lining himself up with your entrance. As he sinks in, you bite your lip to fight the stretch. You attempt to lie back and relax in his touch to allow him in, but he’s just so large. Reiner bottoms out, tip just ghosting against your cervix. He only grants you a few moments to adjust to his size before he’s pounding into you, your cries of pleasure nothing but music to his ears. The tip kissing your cervix is making your brain fuzz beyond anything you’ve felt before, and your walls hug him in intoxicating ways. Reiner grips both of your legs, bringing them onto his shoulders to push in further which earns you a grunt of approval from the larger man. 

He fucks you like he hates you. Every so often, his head falls back, and he lets out grunts of pleasure. His body moves like an artist painting their long-lost lover from only a distant memory, hips ferocious in their assault of your cunt. Reiner flips you over onto your hands and knees after an indiscernible amount of time, your sweat-covered body cringing at the chilly breeze it causes. His pace is still unrelenting from the back, cock feeling as if it’s touching every inch it can inside of you.

“Holy shit,” He cries out. “I’m gonna cum. I wish I could cum inside this pretty little pussy of yours.”

Without another word, except for your moan of approval, Reiner finishes and delicately slides out of you, removing the condom and disposing of it. He arrives back a couple minutes later, towel in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

“So, round two?”

“I’m pretty sure you started my period just now.”

[seireitonin]

Some Jane hcs?

🖤Yes :3 luv her 🖤 (will be going off Jane R, the canon one not Jane A. I love the lesbian representation Jane R is! :) Also some of these are gonna be canon)

Jane was a woman with a normal life

The two suburban parents, normal school life, normal love life

Just normal and happy

Her and Mary met in high school

Mary was a cheerleader and Jane being her best friend at the time watched and supported her

Jane didn’t realize she was a lesbian till she saw Mary with a boyfriend in high school and got extremely jealous and didn’t understand why

And Jane never liked a boy before but she knew she felt something for Mary

When Mary and her boyfriend broke up Jane and her cuddled as Jane comforted her and they shared their first kiss

They stayed together ever since then

Even though it was the 90s/ 2000s when they started dating most people accepted them

Jane’s parents included

They got married as soon as they were able to

Jane’s normal life continued with Mary until her parents were killed by an at the time 19 year old Jeff

Jane was absolutely devastated and wracked with grief

She stayed in bed not moving for months

Some days she just cried and screamed and nothing else

She also got paranoid

What if he tried to hurt Mary next?

How could Jane let that happen?

She couldn’t

So she did research on Jeff like crazy

It was really unhealthy

Also took self defense classes and made Mary take some too

But with all Jane read about this guy, she knew that still wouldn’t be enough

She wanted to avenge her parents, the police were useless in helping

She wanted to protect Mary, Jane can’t bare to loose the love of her life

So what’s the answer to those problems?

Take a risky government observed and produced experimental drug called Liquid Hate of course!

She went into the facility blank faced, telling them they could experiment on her

Inject her with as much as they needed

Make her stronger and she would do anything for them

She was willing to throw away her old life completely for revenge

Jane didn’t care. In her mind any chance she had at a “normal life” died with her parents

She would be too afraid, too full of grief and pain and paranoia to live a normal life and move on

So she would become a weapon to protect the one person that matters to her. Mary.

It’s all she could do

And that’s exactly what happened

Her transformation was slow and painful

Pre transition she had dark hazel eyes and really dark brown hair

Now she has all black eyes and lips, pale skin and black hair

When she was injected with it it’s like all her anger came out full force for 2 minutes and she lost all control of herself

She destroyed everything in the room, lashed out at the scientists, injuring a lot of them

They had to sedate her and strap her down

When she came to, she apologized and is more or less acts like her normal self

She looked in the mirror

Her old life was truly gone

They told Jane all about her new powers which include

Enhanced strength and speed, vocal mimicking, shape shifting, healing, regeneration and regeneration of limbs, drug and alcohol tolerance and almost infinite stamina (this is canon btw)

Jane was now an assassin for the CIA and FBIs Justice Department (also canon)

And she didn’t even tell Mary

Jane went home and Mary screamed until Jane calmed her down

“Mary, it’s me! I-“

“What the fuck did you do?!”

“What I had to do to keep you safe.”

“And that is?!”

Jane explained everything

“What…how…you…”

“I know it’s jarring okay? But it’s still…me. I understand if you can’t love me because I look like this. I understand if you want to go. But just know I truly did do this for you and for myself. I have to protect you and avenge my parents.”

“You are so impulsive and stupid! But you’re still as beautiful as ever. You know I’m never going anywhere.”

They shared a kiss in the kitchen

Jane was so lucky to have Mary

Jane takes out any criminal asked of her and ones not asked of her too

Rapists, serial killers, p3d0s, abusers

Anyone that society doesn’t need

But her ultimate goal is to kill the man that killed her parents

Jeff the killer

She won’t stop until that happens

Jane doesn’t kill or hurt innocent people

She wouldn’t dream of it

Why be like the man she hates?

Jane’s actually really nice despite everything

She can be very sarcastic and snarky too though but can you blame her?

She’s still violent towards criminals though

Like extremely violent

They remind her of Jeff and she calls it “practice” for when she finally gets her hands on him

His death will be slow and painful

Jane has a sister and other surviving family members that she hasn’t seen in a while (how could she even begin to explain her life now)

Jane is 38 years old

Born September 1st 1985

Jane is Wasian (white and Asian, Japanese specifically) but looks more Japanese

She kinda looks like a type of vengeful Japanese spirit called the Onryō and has come to like it

people think she is one sometimes

Especially when she makes weird ass noises to freak out her victims/ mess with them

Jane really relates to Onryō due to the stuff that happened in her life

Her mother would often tell her stories about the Onryō especially around Halloween

Jane finds it ironic that she kinda looks like one with her pale skin, tall stature and long black hair

Especially when she wears white since Onryō are often depicted in white burial kimonos

She especially feels like one when she comes out of the darkness, quietly and slowly as if she’s floating her black eyes looking at her victim through the dark

She specifically relates to some parts of the story of Lady Owia. A man ruining Jane’s life, “killing” her old self and the life she knew, making her a vengeful person and leaving her “disfigured” and looking like an Onryō

Sometimes she still gets upset and will scream and cry at night in the middle of nowhere, making her look and sound like a spirit in pain

Despite the fact she’s still alive she sometimes feels like she died with her parents

Maybe she is just an Onryō in a humans body

She can speak fluent Japanese thanks to her mom

Jane understands Kagekao fully

Both of them being gay Japanese people who have pale skin and are good fighters is really coincidental

Kagekao thought Jane was a spirit or something supernatural due to the grief and vengeance coming off her

But to his disappointment she’s just a cool looking human

Jane really doesn’t like him

He’s a serial killer who kills people for shits and giggles like Jeff and she can’t stand that

Jane knows he’s a demon because he told her and Kagekao thought Jane wouldn’t understand him

They both also have voice mimicking powers and they use it against each other all the time

Jane is jealous of his parkour skills though, she wants to get better at it

When Jane is in a violent mood or in a fight black veins will appear all over her body, but it’s most noticeable oh her face and especially on her temples and forehead leading into her eyes as the veins pump and bulge with blood. Very unsettling to look at.

Jane is usually 5’10 but if she wants to look more intimidating in a fight she will make herself taller like 6’3-6’5

Jane is romantic/ trad goth and listens to the music since she was born in the 80s and grew up in the 90s it’s nostalgic for her

Jane wears black everyday because she thinks all other colors look bad on her

She wears white to sleep though

Jane’s eyes are pitch black so you have no idea where she’s looking or what she’s looking at

It’s kinda scary when she looks at you especially if it’s dark

But she’s pretty so it’s okay

Loves Japanese comfort foods and will cook them a lot like really good ramen, mochi ice cream, udon, kastu curry, tempura and hot pot

It reminds her of her mom

Jane’s kinda happy that she has long shiny black hair like her mom now

If you were ever gonna run into a Creepypasta and live, Jane’s definitely your best bet

Likes to shapeshift to look normal to take Mary on dates

Wears black dresses when she’s not fighting but when she is, jeans and a sweater all black of course

Sounds like Amy Lee from Evanescence when she sings

A smooth soothing voice when she talks

Lived with Mary in their home till she got roped in with all the other pastas (but that’s a completely different hc list completely)

Since Jane works for the government she’s rich. Like really rich

So she’s always clean and put together

Can walk in heels like a pro

Jane’s a queen and I love her

This isn’t proofread I made this at 3 am sorry lol

[moo-rin]

「 ✦ Inumaki Mori | 狗巻森 ✦ 」 CHARACTER PROFILE

╰┈➤ Mori is a person whose behavior does not match her appearance at all. Her strengths are: responsibility, determination and loyalty, character traits that she carries throughout her life. In contrast to this, she may not be the most pleasant person to interact with. Forced to have problems with communication, she can be rude in communication in general, because she does not like long explanations. First she acts, then, if necessary, explains. With age, her patience with people has increased, but in addition, another minus has stuck. If she finds herself in a stressful situation bordering on dangerous, you should be prepared that she will not wait for the first blow from the opponent, but will strike first. Mori can be self-confident, but she believes that this is what makes her stronger. Has sadistic tendencies when it comes to curses.

╰┈➤ Mori is a strong sorcerer and uses it to the fullest in battle. In addition to a fairly strong cursed speech, she has a reverse cursed technique in her arsenal. After finishing Jujutsu Tech, Mori gained teleportation, but unlike Satoru, she cannot teleport very far, the maximum she could do was 5 km.

In battle, she uses Bo, which she fills with her cursed energy (and her fists). Mori has a summoned shikigami at her disposal, she uses it only on difficult missions, the creature is a communicator, since it can reproduce her speech (Shikigami can establish a mental connection by partially penetrating the body, which Mori does not like). To maintain her ligaments in good condition, she constantly carries cough drops with her (Mori buys the most expensive ones because she can).

╰┈➤ Mori was officially classmates with Nanami and Haibara, but interacted more with Satoru and Suguru due to her high grade, which led to a friendship. She was also the same age as the two, but did not show up at Jujutsu Tech for the first year because she did not want to become a sorcerer.

While the boys were on the Star Plasma Vessel mission, Mori had her own mission in Europe, after which she returned with a serious injury (she did not yet know how to use the Reverse Cursed Technique). Upon her return, everything only got worse: Suguru's depression, Haibara's death, Nanami's departure, and Satoru and Shoko's detachment.

Mori had been in love with Suguru for a very long time, but it turned into hatred after his betrayal. Conversely, her long-standing dislike for Satoru grew into something more tender when they both found solace in each other from the traumas they had experienced.

In her later years, Mori was also a teacher, although more of an auxiliary one due to her inability to communicate normally. She stopped performing her duties after Hakari left, but returned at Satoru's request when Itadori, Megumi and Nobara entered Jujutsu Tech. Before that, she always performed the duties of a special grade sorcerer.

╰┈➤ Mori does not like sweets, unless it is marmalade. Basically, she prefers sour drinks and spicy food. She does not like alcohol, but she can drink in company.

╰┈➤ She loves hot springs and prefers to go on vacation to some villages. She would really like to get a dog, but she does not have the time and opportunity to take care of one.

╰┈➤ Very sociable, but unfortunately only in correspondence. Her safe words are: names of flowers (she wishes they were horrors, but that's too impractical).

╰┈➤ Doesn't realize it, but she's kind of motherly to Itadori. Satoru likes to joke that he's their son.

୨ৎ p.s. I have an AU with Mori, in which she's the reincarnation of Sukuna and Uraume's friend. She was the owner of a hot spring that had some bad rumors about her. She could see curses but wasn't a sorcerer (she was also born in the "cursed hour" which made people afraid of her as a harbinger of bad luck).

Her comfortable life began when the King of Curses visited her hot springs one day. Sukuna fell in love with the place, and Uraume liked hanging out with Mori. The two often gossiped with each other.

I am writing through a translator, so if there are any mistakes, please forgive me...

[caffess]

something i didn't know | modern au | part one

Pairing: Dark!Perv!TA! Viktor x Fem!Reader (NSFWish)

Series Synopsis: Jayce’s roommate has a reputation as the coldest person in Piltover’s University, but there's a side of him that people just don't know.

Chapter Summary: Jayce seems to struggle for the first time in becoming friends with someone: his roommate Viktor. Getting drunk and dragging you with him may or may not have been a good idea.

Warnings: perv!viktor, dub-con touching (she isn't opposed to it & is also tipsy), cussing(?, alcohol consumption, dom & sub undertones, lazy ah ending

Word Count: 2.1K

Jayce’s frustrated footsteps echoed across your living room while you munched on a blueberry muffin. You had gone over this maybe a thousand times but he still seemed to not be over the situation.

“I swear to god, I don't get why he doesn't like me” You leaned back on the sofa as you watched him pace angrily. “I mean who wouldn't accept this gift?” The fresh batch of muffins he had baked earlier sat on your coffee table looking as miserable as Jayce right now.

Ever since your friend had joined the University’s dorms he had been facing the biggest of problems: his roommate Viktor. Despite all of Jayce’s attempts to befriend the guy, everything he planned seemed to backfire. Today’s failed attempt had been the muffins.

“Why didn't he accept them?” You asked while watching Jayce unceremoniously sit on the floor.

“He said we wouldn't eat all of them and that they would go to waste.” He sighed. “Normally people love talking to me, it's so weird to have him reject me like that.”

“Well, maybe you should focus on something else. Don't get so worked up about it, you have many other friends here”

In all honesty, everyone in Piltover University’s literature department knew about Viktor. He was the assigned teacher’s assistant for Heimerdinger’s class and he stuck out like a sore thumb: while everyone had different personalities and ways to approach someone, Viktor was just cold as fuck. 

His stance made him look rough in front of everyone and his voice was as sharp as his cheekbones, cutting through the air mercilessly.

No one dared to cross the Czech guy and no one tried to approach him if it wasn't strictly for class purposes.

The level of interaction you held with Viktor was little to none; you were in Heimerdinger’s class but never talked and rarely asked for any advice. Your interactions with him were very rare but you frequently saw him a couple of times at your favorite coffee shop, the school’s library, and near the fountain in front of the dorm rooms, but that seemed to change since you now saw him a lot more often now that he became Jayce’s roommate.

Ever since you had met Jayce, it had become a common occurrence for you guys to crash into each other's homes to cook something (mostly pastries); it was a fun tradition and provided you guys with something to do while you engaged in entertaining conversations.

Now that you were in college, the tradition didn't die, and twice each week you would meet up in each other's dorms to keep up with the fun, which were the times you happened to see Viktor.

 What you didn't know, however, was that Viktor would very rarely come out of his room, leaving Jayce little to no chances of socializing with his roommate. 

The only times he would leave his room were when you came over to cook with Jayce; he would sit down to read his book in the living room while you guys chattered away, and then he would coldly turn Jayce down when he asked if he wanted to join you guys. It was like the golden-eyed menace did it on purpose to show the Talis boy that he would be always so close and so far from him. 

Now, you were back in your dorm so Jayce could whine and complain some more about his unapproachable roommate. The complete and utter rejection had made his mood come plummeting down, and as a consequence, you sat in your living room watching him eat the muffins himself while waiting for Caitlin to come back from her date.

“If I can't make everyone my friend, how can I be like Bill Gates or Steve Jobs? How can I get everyone to like me?” He huffed a sigh of annoyance as he laid down on your carpet. 

“Just hang on for a while, I'm sure he's just shy… It might take a while for him to open up.”

“Yeah... Sure” Jayce muttered sassily. He stared at the ceiling for a couple of seconds before he sat up. “You know what? I have the one and only solution to this problem” You frowned in confusion and asked him what he was thinking, to which he just grinned widely and reached into Caitlin’s forbidden cabinet. “We are going to get absolutely shitfaced!”

“No, no. Hell-fucking-no.” You shook your head as you watched him pour Vodka inside Cait’s ‘#1 Criminologist’ mug. “You- You can't do that, it's a Wednesday night, we have class tomorrow!”

“Um, yeah, I know” He chuckled while taking a big sip from his mug and pouring you a cup. “It's just a little bit, you won't get drunk or anything, just giggly.”

You hesitantly accepted the cup he had given you and sipped slowly on the liquid, pouring some of the contents on a plant nearby. Soon enough, it seemed as if Jayce had forgotten all his problems. He had danced around and posted Instagram stories that he would soon regret before he single-handedly decided to play a drinking game while watching mean girls, ignoring how you had nearly fallen asleep on the floor. The only thing that pulled you out of your trance was the sound of the door opening as it revealed Caitlin’s grinning form, though her smile didn't last long, dropping as soon as she saw yours and Jayce’s bodies sprawled on the floor next to an empty bottle, him quizzically watching Regina George scribbling in her burn book.

“Really, Jayce? It's a Wednesday night” both her hands rested on her waist as she watched the Talis boy try to get up without stumbling. You, on the other hand, were a lot more sober, and managed to give him a hand while pausing the movie. Caitlin turned to you, sighing “Tomorrow I would love to get an explanation, but I'm really tired and want to go to bed.”

You nodded and offered her a hug before she made a beeline to her room, closing the door behind her. You helped Jayce sit on the sofa before cleaning the mess of muffins and mugs on the floor. Thankfully it wasn't bad and it was fast to clean; you really were thankful you were just tipsy as opposed to Jayce, who was totally and utterly fucked up.

“You know, if we were all animals, my name would be orange” Jayce’s words had stopped making any sense a while ago, so you chose to ignore him as you helped him up in order to take him to his dorm. The whole journey through the dark hallway consisted of treating him like a champ every time he managed to put one foot in front of the other without tripping on his own legs. 

It felt as if years had passed when you made it to his door, and only then did you notice how late it was. You cringed at the thought of ringing the doorbell since you really didn't wish to wake Viktor up; only god knew how he would react to this kind of situation, and you were terribly embarrassed to have him see you in this condition, but you had no other choice.

You rang once and then twice, but there had been no answer, so when Jayce, in his drunken state, chose to knock loudly, you panicked and pulled his hand away from it, which proved to be the wrong move when he then resorted to screaming Viktor’s name.

“Jayce, no! Shut up!” You whined, putting your hands over his mouth to make him quiet down when the door opened all of a sudden to reveal an angry-looking Viktor, leaning on his cane with a cup of coffee in his hand. Just as you were about to say something, Jayce stumbled inside the apartment and pushed you off of him, making you trip on Viktor’s figure.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt two hands grab onto your arms and prevent you from falling, but as soon as they reached you, a warm caffeinated liquid spilled all over your body. You hissed as you felt the hot beverage burn your skin lightly but paid it no mind as you saw Viktor stumble onto the wall for support since his cane had fallen on the ground.

“Oh I'm sorry” You muttered, reaching for his cane and his mug, that thankfully had not broken thanks to the carpeted floor.

“No need to apologize.” He muttered, his gaze traveling from you to Jayce’s figure lying limp on the floor and rolling his eyes as he closed the door behind you with a sigh. “It is disappointing to say that this isn't the first time this happens.”

You nodded agreeing with him as you dozed off, fisting at your shirt to lessen the pain of the burn. Viktor’s eyes roamed all over your figure noticing your slightly drunken state before moving towards Jayce and pulling him up with one arm.

You followed him as you grabbed the rest of his roommate’s body and helped put him down on the sofa, where he giggled slightly before dozing off.

“I'm really sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen.” You said. “We were only supposed to wait for my roommate, not... Whatever this is” You put your hand on your forehead as you sighed tiredly, feeling a headache prodding at your head.

Viktor shook his head as he stared coldly at his roommate, silently cursing his irresponsible nature. The Talis guy had been utterly annoying ever since he moved in; a total pain in the ass. Viktor could dare say the only positive aspect of having to room with him was that he got to see you more often.

“Come here.” He said as he signaled you to follow him. You frowned as you got up, following him into his room. The lights were dimly turned on and his desk was full of papers he seemed to have been grading. He headed straight to his dresser, fiddling around the drawer until he pulled out a white T-Shirt. He turned around and looked straight into your eyes as he signaled to his bed. “Sit”

You hurried to do as he said, your eyes roaming all over the room while he disappeared into his bathroom: the place was neat, the only messy spot being his desk, as opposed to your own room. His coat was perched neatly on his chair, reminding you of how mysterious he looked while he was out and about off-campus. It was very good-looking, and you wondered how the expensive material would look on you. Before you could conjure up any crazy thoughts, the sound of his footsteps brought you back to reality as you saw him approaching you with a wet towel.

He sat next to you on the bed and only then did you realize the stickiness of the coffee that had stuck to your skin. You were still a little dazed so you didn't protest when you felt Viktor’s fingers slip under your shirt and pull it off. When you made eye contact with him you wondered how you had never swam on those honey-eyed pools, and came to realize that his cold attire became less scary from up close.

However, the second you felt Viktor’s towel touch your chest you became aware of your state of undress. You tried to squirm away from him, hoping to cover yourself up, but he put a hand on your thigh, preventing you from doing so. Your mind focused on Viktor’s eyes as you felt the cold towel roaming all over your upper body, giving special attention to your chest. 

“Viktor-” You whined as you felt his hand dip with the towel inside the valley between your breasts. Only then you noticed how close you actually were to Viktor; his breath mixed with yours and your eyes clashed with his. The moment both your noses touched you felt his hand graze all the way from your shoulder to end up snapping the waistband of your shorts against your skin, making him smirk at your reaction before pulling away.

You were no longer dazed when he put the towel down and reached for his T-Shirt, shamelessly eyeing your breasts. You reached your hand out for him to hand it to you, but he tutted pulling it out of your reach. “Let me help you, můj miláček”. You frowned but obliged, allowing him to do as he pleased. After putting both your arms through the holes in the shirt, he caressed your hair before standing up and offering you his hand.

He then proceeded to walk you to your apartment.

[justali-anne]

Drunk Skelebros Take

I just had a hilarious idea (at least in my opinion)!

Imagine that when Sans and Papyrus get drunk, they become the OPPOSITE kind of drunks to their usual selves.

Sans, for example, would turn into a wild party animal when drunk. In addition, I like to imagine that he has a very low alcohol tolerance (more on that later), so give him a couple of shots of whiskey and he's already in a hyperactive state. Expect drunk!Sans to be singing and dancing at the drop of a hat, flipping tables, disappearing and reappearing out of freaking NOWHERE, and having intense mood swings where he either laughs at everything or finds the most ABSURD reasons to cry ("fish don't have legs, bro, how can they run if they don't have any legs? *sob sob*"). However, even with all these absurd outbursts, there is one thing Sans will NEVER do when he's drunk: talk about his problems. In this state, Sans will be more focused on the present moment than any of the grievances in his life, and even if you try to pin him down and get him talking, he'd be too delirious to give you a comprehensible chat anyway. Bottom line is, someone will definitely need to babysit this guy when he's drunk, because left to his own devices... Well, he might just destroy the whole bar.

Papyrus, on the other hand, will actually slow down and become slightly more introspective when he's drunk. He'll just suddenly start asking the strangest, most "profound" questions and try to be all smart and philosophical, but they're really just a bunch of utter nonsense. ("ART? WHAT IS... ART? IS ART WHAT YOU CALL PENCIL MARKS? OR IS ART SOMETHING GREATER LIKE... THE UNIVERSE?") It doesn't stop there, either. Papyrus will take random strangers to the side and ask them strange questions, sometimes it's about the utter philosophical nonsense above, or it could be a bit... too personal for them. ("DO YOU EVER THINK THAT IF YOU HAD TAKEN A DIFFERENT PATH IN LIFE, YOU WOULD'VE ACHIEVED YOUR HOPES AND DREAMS BY NOW?") However, there are times where Papyrus could get really upset or even angry while drunk. He'd start bemoaning the littlest annoyances and all the problems in his life, which is the exact opposite of what Papyrus is normally like, so this kind of behaviour will be jarring to everyone around him. On the surface, Papyrus might seem fully functional while drunk, but out of the two brothers, surprisingly it's PAPYRUS who conks out first. Yeah, Sans may have a low alcohol tolerance, but Papyrus isn't much better.

My headcanon is that skeletons, in general, would have pretty sensitive and powerful magic. My reasoning for this is that while most monsters have organs and stuff to help them with their bodily functions (they just function differently due to magic), skeletons (and ghosts) will need a LOT more magic to achieve those same functions. Talking, eating, moving etc. So logically, I think alcohol would actually disrupt that magic, and if they have too much alcohol, a skeleton could actually fall apart and lose their basic functions. It's not fatal, just give it time and the skeleton can recover, but it's still pretty dangerous and terrifying when it does happen. The skeleton would just be in a state of paralysis and that's not good for anyone. And the weaker a skeleton is, the more likely this alcoholic paralysis is gonna happen.

Therefore, Sans and Papyrus have to be extremely careful about what they drink and how much they consume. A shot or two is enough to get them hammered, after all. Sans is more vulnerable, of course, for obvious reasons, but that doesn't mean Papyrus can take much more. He's tough, but he's still vulnerable. Both of them would start shaking and rattling if they drank too much. And hangovers are a NIGHTMARE. Sans would probably be bedridden, and Papyrus would pretend that he's fine and he's functioning properly, but if his rattling is any indication... yeah, he'd suffer.

Also these alcoholic principles don't work the same way on ghosts, since they're non-corporeal. I think the effects of alcohol on them would be different depending on the type of ghost, whether they have a body (like Mettaton) or not (like Napstablook). Or even if they're somewhere in-between (Mad Dummy/Mew Mew). I'll leave that for another time.

So, enjoy drunk skeletons!

[least-carpet]

No, no, but now I want to read your ideas about how wwx is set to an implosion in 1-3 years. How do you get him there? In canon, he needed jyl's death, the wen siblings death, the world against him

Another neglected anon! Sorry for the late response and happy new year!

I actually think what we saw in terms of Wei Wuxian's devolution after Jiang Yanli's death qualifies as an explosion rather than an implosion, i.e. the force was directed outwards from the centre and killed whoever was in the blast radius. I don't think he'll do that.

I do think we see him implode earlier than that though, in the post-war period, where he drinks excessively (to the point that Wen Qing comments on it), he's unreliable, his moods are volatile, he self-isolates, etc.

To be fair, a certain amount of this is related to not having a golden core and practising demonic cultivation. However, I also tend to read it as a reaction to his war trauma, since self-medicating is a pretty normal response to surviving horrifying events?

Let me be clear that I don't think he always used alcohol like this—I think his partying as a teenager became a problem in adulthood. I think that was always a risk for him for a variety of reasons (we know that he survived becoming a homeless orphan and doesn't remember big chunks of his childhood, which tends to indicate trauma) but I don't think we see it happen until after the war, during which he saw and did some buckwild shit. I also don't know that he ever developed a physical dependence on alcohol, just that his post-war alcohol use looks pretty dysfunctional given its context and all the other choices he was making.

So. Given what we know about:

his behaviour in the post-war period;

his behaviour immediately post-resurrection, specifically that we see him desperately trying to avoid people, places, and situations that make him remember traumatic events from his first life;

his partner, specifically that Lan Wangji doesn't have a real barometer for what "normal" drinking looks like, and also has a tendency to enable Wei Wuxian;

where his partner lives, the extremely calm and controlled Cloud Recesses, where everything is on a strict schedule, therefore predictable and regular, and many activities Wei Wuxian likes are just not allowed—

We have a scenario where a person who thrives in exciting situations and likes working under pressure is living in place that is quiet, regular, and predictable. He is not supposed to drink there, but has a spouse who's willing to smuggle in as much alcohol as he wants. He has thus far throughout the story distracted himself from processing a long series of very traumatic events, and has only been willing to be in relationship with people who can't or won't hold him accountable. All of those feelings are waiting to explode out of the closet he's stuffed them in and fall on his head. And now he's often in a place where there's nothing fun to do...

Like, I think that it might take a minute, since the euphoria of new love will at least provide, you know, some positive feelings, which are their own distraction. (Plus all the sex! And night-hunting!) And Lan Wangji has many qualities that make him a real support to Wei Wuxian, and that might get him through that inevitable post-honeymoon period of quiet where all his feelings pop out and come for him. But I don't think that's going to be a fun experience for anyone?

TL;DR I think eventually he will have to stop running away and actually think about what he's lost, and we know what he does with Bad Feelings he doesn't want (excessive drinking, avoidance, withdrawal from loved ones). Grief and shame are gonna get you every time!