#if they wanted to be believed so badly why do they need to keep lying

[chaosordoffl]

"you're falling for propaganda and propping up a terrorist group in doing so" well maybe if the other guys' pr wasn't ass :/

[toastsnaffler]

trying to watch all of us strangers and it's just making me cry really hard this is why I don't do romance movies WAH

[dyaz-stories]

JUJUTSU BOYS + POST SHIBUYA HURT/COMFORT

following Shibuya, the Jujutsu boys are in dire need of some comfort

featuring: nanami, yuuji, megumi, maki, inumaki, yuta, gojo

word count: 4.7k (600-700 words per character)

cw: canon divergence for nanami and gojo, season 2 spoilers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries, everyone needs a hug, some fluff ig, established relationships, not proofread

NANAMI

“He woke up,” Shoko informs you, closing the room to Kento’s door behind her. She doesn’t bother with small talk, gives only the necessary information since Shibuya. You don’t blame her. You understand why she would choose to keep her energy for what she thinks is essential. So when she approaches you, hands buried in her pockets, you know there is something she believes is that important to tell you.

“Is he— Has he said anything?”

“He thanked me — you know how he is. But, um— he’s lost an eye, and he’s badly burned. There’s nothing I can do about that. I’m sorry.”

She sounds genuinely dejected, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter. Without you, he wouldn’t be alive. Can I—”

She gives you a faint smile.

“Sure. You can go in.”

You don’t wait for her to have finished her sentence to open the door. Kento looks up at you, and you take him in for a second. An eye patch covers his left eye, and that whole side of his body is burnt, badly, with fresh bandages covering it. It doesn’t stop you from launching himself into his arms, and he catches you without missing a beat.

“You’re alive,” is all you can say, repeating it like a mantra.

“I am,” he answers. “I apologize for worrying you.”

So very like him, apologizing while he’s lying on a hospital bed after suffering from horrific injuries.

“Thank you for coming back to me,” you whisper into his neck, tears rolling freely from your cheeks. “I don’t— I don’t—” I don’t know how I would have kept living without you.

His eye is filled with fondness and love, when he looks at you.

“Does it hurt a lot?” you ask, gesturing at his left side.

“It does not,” he answers. “Shoko’s abilities are quite remarkable for that. I am healed. The bandages are mostly to stop the skin from becoming too dry — due to the size of the area, she couldn’t do it all herself.”

“Then… can I kiss you?”

He swallows around the lump in his throat. If he is honest, when Shoko talked to him after he woke up, one of his greatest fears was that you would be disgusted by him. He knows you find him handsome — found him handsome, at least. He knows that this was thinking far too little of you, and yet relief washes over him at your question.

“You can always kiss me.”

You’re cautious when you do, don’t want to risk hurting him, despite what he’s just told you. Your lips feel like coming home, and he loses himself in you, if only for a moment. All too soon, he feels the need to pull away for air. Even with Shoko’s miracle work, he feels weak, a sensation he finds himself hating with his entire being. He likes being strong, likes being your rock, likes supporting you in any situation. He despises the fact that that has been taken away from him.

“I think it would be for the best if I spent the night here,” he tells you. “The chair isn’t very comfortable, so if you wish to go home, I wouldn’t—”

You shake your head immediately.

“I’m not leaving you anytime soon. I’m spending the night here. I’m sure I can find a pillow and a blanket somewhere, and I will be just fine with that.”

Aren’t you just adorable when you’ve made up your mind?

“If that is okay with you, that’s fine with me,” he nods. “But, first…” He opens his arm on the right side. “Would you join me?”

There isn’t much space in the bed for the two of you, but you make it fit, leaning against the wall so he can have his head against your chest. Even though he wants nothing more than to revel in the moment, he feels his eyes closing, lulled by the beating of your heart and your fingers carding through his hair.

He loves taking care of you but he supposes that, for the time being, it won’t be too bad if he’s the one being taken care of.

YUUJI

Finding Yuuji following the Shibuya Incident requires you to venture into the belly of Tokyo, making your way through curse after curse, stepping over the bodies of sorcerers and humans alike, never taking the time to stop. At least Megumi had warned you that he was likely to keep moving, so you hadn’t given up hope yet, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t afraid for him. Not physically, no, you didn’t think there was anything left here that could actually hurt him, but, based on what Megumi had told you, his head hung low, you can only imagine how devastated he must be.

You spot him when he finishes off a curse, on a rooftop near you. It isn’t long before you land there yourself, and there he is.

“Yuuji!”

He freezes when you call out his name, and turns towards you oh so slowly. When he looks at you, you could almost cry with relief. There he is, your Yuuji. A little worse for wear, but alright. You take a step towards him, ready to run into his arms, when he takes a step back.

A tall man wearing a kimono, his hair tied into two buns, lands in front of him, between the two of you.

“Who is that?” he asks Yuuji. “Do you want me to take care of it?”

There is quiet resolution in his voice. He doesn’t sound like he wants to kill you, but you don’t think he would hesitate to do it.

“N-no,” Yuji says, his voice hoarse. “No, it’s alright, Choso. Would you mind…?”

The man nods, still not showing any emotions.

“Of course. I’ll give the two of you some space.”

He throws you a threatening glance — as if you could ever be a threat to Yuuji — before jumping off the building.

You take another step forward. This time, Yuuji doesn’t move, but he refuses to meet your eyes.

“Don’t,” he says. He sounds weak.

Another step.

“Why not?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ve killed—” A deep, shuddering breath. “—so many people.”

Step.

“That wasn’t you.”

You say it softly, gently, but you’re not sure that he can hear you, as he is now.

“It’s still my fault.”

His voice is no stronger than a whisper.

“It was Sukuna’s doing.” Step. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” Step.

You’re close to him now, close enough to see his hands balled up into fists, his lower lip trembling, how he scrunches his face so he doesn’t cry.

“Yuji,” you call, and in your mouth, his name sounds like a term of endearment. “It’s not your fault.”

He shakes his head, but doesn’t have anything more to say. He wants so, so badly to believe you, but his heart, his mind, and Sukuna’s voice in the back of his head are all whispering that you’re lying. When you reach him, your hands go up to his face, cradle it like it’s a precious porcelain. You trace the scar on his forehead, stroke the one on his lip with your thumb, and then you press your lips against it with great care.

And he falls apart.

Your arms are around him as he lets himself fall to the ground, and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck as he sobs, let him hold on to you like a drowning man to a lifeline. You stroke the back of his head gently. The motion is soothing. Soft. Loving.

“I’m a monster,” he chokes, and tears fill your eyes.

“You’re not,” you promise, voice breaking. “You’re not. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He gasps like he’s breathing for the first time in days, and you keep him there, in your arms. He’s not okay yet — won’t be for a long time. But he’s alive. He’s breathing. He’s moving forward, one small step at a time.

You will be here to support him until he can stand on his own again.

No matter how long it takes.

MEGUMI

Megumi has always been the quiet type. He keeps his feelings close to his chest, lets people in on his thoughts only in spare, carefully chosen sentences. He turns away if emotions overwhelm in, deals with the worst of it privately, would never let anything spill out if he could help him. Emotions are his problems, and he cannot bear the thought of them hurting someone other than him.

Still, you’ve always been able to read him. The softness in his eyes when he looks at Yuuji and Nobara, the smile he doesn’t quite allow to make its way to his lips when Gojo decides to spoil him, the way he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your back against his chest so he can hide his face in your neck, even if you can spot his ears turning red. The way the corner of his lips turn down, too, when his mind drifts towards Tsumiki, the twitch in his jaw when someone brings up his father, the clench of his fists when he feels hopeless.

You can read him like a book.

He is even quieter when he comes back from Shibuya, and his emotions are expressed even more minutely, blink and you’ll miss it.

You can only watch from the audience in one of the numerous meetings that follow his return. Him and a number of other sorcerers testify, and you have to hear him recounting the same details over and over. You’re here to see, helpless, how he lowers his gaze when several sorcerers recommend Yuuji’s execution, and how his eyes dull when his sentencing is pronounced.

But he never comes to you. At first, you assume he can’t — there are a number of physicals for him to clear. You reason that he must be exhausted, must want his space for now, and resolve to give it to him. It’s on the day of the last council, when he averts his eyes to avoid meeting yours, that you realize what was happening.

He’s been avoiding you.

It’s a half-hearted attempt, one that comes to an end when you knock against the open door to his room. He doesn’t look up at you when he answers.

“Come in.”

His room is almost bare, but you know he keeps pictures from the two of you in his drawers.

You sit on the bed next to him, let your knee brush against his. He doesn’t move away.

“I haven’t seen you since you came back,” you say. You know better than to broach the subject directly, wouldn’t want to spook him.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be. I just came to check in on you.”

He’s quiet for longer than he should be.

“…I have to go back out there. I have to talk to Itadori.”

You read between the lines. You know that he would give you more than that if he felt he could, understand that he is trying to make this as painless for you as he can.

You reach for his hands and squeeze it.

“Okay.”

There’s a pause.

“…you sure?”

You know that’s not the question he’s asking. You know he wants you to feel able to yell at him, protest, scream until there’s nothing left of the two of you, all so that you will feel better, even if he leaves unloved and a little more shattered than he was when he arrived.

“I’m sure.”

The sigh of relief he lets out sounds more like a sob. Next thing you know, he’s letting his head drop onto your shoulder, black hair tickling your neck.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I’m sorry. Can I— Can I just stay like this a little longer? Please?”

You keep yourself still, reach up to cup his cheek, stroke it softly.

“As long as you need.”

He moves his head so he can press a kiss to your cheek, lets his lips linger there longer than he needs to. When he turns around, you see he’s turned crimson.

The outside world might have turned into hell, but this room hasn’t yet.

In here, the two of you can hope that simpler, happier times will come again some day.

MAKI

Maki supposes that there are worse ways to wake up than with her head in your lap. By the time she comes to, Reverse Cursed Technique has done its job — mostly. If she could muster it, she would be glad that she wasn’t awake to feel it processing. It’s always felt foreign to her, and she hates feeling it on her body.

What she hates more, though, is the tingling of the burns on her face and body.

“Isn’t there anything to be done about that?” you’re asking Shoko when her eyes flutter open. You’re mindlessly running your fingers over the scarred skin, and it feels fresh and soothing.

“I’m sorry,” Shoko says, sounding exhausted but always taking the time to answer students’ concerns. “RCT can’t fix burns. Non-sorcerers have done some progress in that domain, I think. Maybe she’ll want to look into it.”

“I hope she won’t care,” you mumble.

“Why,” Maki asks, and you look down at her in shock, “is it that bad?”

She pushes herself up, looking around for her glasses, but stops when she realizes both you and Shoko are staring at her, mouth gaping.

“You’re something else,” Shoko finally comments, a tired grin forming on her lips. “Thought you’d be asleep for at least another day. Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in the next room, alright?”

She leaves with a wave of her hand, some of the weight of the past week taken off her shoulders, now that she’s done her work.

When Maki turns to look back at you, you already have her glasses in your hand. You’re careful when you pass the branches over her ears to put them on her, and she lets you do it, studying your expression. Your eyes are red from crying, and you look tired, too, but at least she cannot see any injuries on you.

“So?” she raises an eyebrow at you, and her skin stretches uncomfortably. “Do I really look that terrible?”

You shake your head and smile at her, reaching up to cup her cheek.

“You’re as stunning as always. I’d just hate it if you thought otherwise.”

She leans into your touch, closing her eyes. Her whole body aches. She cannot pinpoint any real physical pain, but there is an overall soreness  that she wants to stretch out. She would, if she could bear the thought of losing your touch, if only for a second.

“What about my hair?” she asks, trying to add a playful inflexion to her tone. “Don’t tell me you let them do whatever they wanted with it.”

You shake your head, mirroring her expression.

“It’s like you don’t even know me,” you say with a fake eyeroll. “I’ll have you know it looks super stylish.”

She nods, then turns her head to kiss the inside of your palm. She likes the way it flusters you, how you bite your lip and glance away to hide it from her.

“Do you— do you want to hear about what else has happened?”

Her smile dims, and she shakes her head.

“Can I get a minute of this first?” Her voice comes out hoarser than she would like. “Y-you can tell me afterwards. I just— I just need a minute.”

“Of course,” you reply, softly.

When you open your arms, she doesn’t hesitate a second to plunge in. She rests her cheek against your chest, and you wrap her in a tight hug that she returns without missing a beat. You’re warm and soft, as you always are.

She’ll get back to fighting, to throwing her whole body in the line of fire soon enough, that is a promise. She’ll mourn the dead, she’ll shed tears.

But first, she gets a minute of respite, in the arms of the only person that can give it to her.

INUMAKI

You rush through the emergency room, unbridled fear in your veins. The place is a morgue. There are more dead than living in here, and you’d be horrified if your mind wasn’t focused on one person and one person only — one that you cannot find. Cursed energy is no use right now, not with the place being such a mess.

“Ieiri!” you finally call when you see her passing by, pale as a corpse, not examining a body for more than handful of seconds before moving on to the next. “Where— Where is Toge?”

She looks straight through you. The dark circles under her eyes are even deeper than usual.

“Alive. That way.”

She point vaguely in a direction and then she’s gone, but it’s all you need. You find yourself running, unceremoniously opening and closing doors in your desperate search for him. When you find him, you could almost cry in relief.

“Toge,” you call, and you’re afraid your legs will give in underneath you.

He looks at you with wide eyes — eyes that you love so much, because they always say everything his lips can’t. Despite everything that’s happened tonight, they’re full of life, and that is the sight you’d been hoping for the most.

It’s only after looking inside that you realize what’s happened to his arm.

You walk over to him, sit on the chair next to his bed. He holds his hand out for you to take, and when you do, he squeezes it between his fingers, three times. His own, silent way of saying ‘I love you’. You lean forward, resting your elbows on the bed and hanging your head low.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper. “I was so scared.”

You feel his lips on the top of your head, and you cannot help but smile. It feels selfish, smiling in such circumstances, when so many people have lost their lives and their loved ones. But you’re reunited with him, and it is the only reaction that feels appropriate. You look up at him. Without his usual clothes, the seal on his mouth is on full display.

“Do you want a scarf?” you ask, gesturing at your bag. You always carry one, as well as cough syrup, just in case.

Fondness flashes in his eyes, but he shakes his head. Reluctantly, he lets go of your hand to tap on his phone. The movements are clumsy, and a knot forms in your throat, watching him do it, but you can’t think of anything to do to help him.

‘No need,’ the phone reads when he turns it back towards you. And then, after a line break ‘Sukuna attacked.’

You’d hear about that. You… had just hoped it wasn’t true.

“So, Itadori…?”

“Bonito flakes,” he answers, shaking his head. Silence falls on the room.

You usually like silence with him. It feels comfortable, like an old friend you’re happy to welcome. Tonight, though, you feel the need to blurt out “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

His lips turn downward, and he gestures at his arm dejectedly, but you shake your head, and you stand up so you can sit on the bed, by his legs. You grab his hand in both of yours.

“I would take anything as long as it means you’re back here with me. I know— I know it’s selfish, but I just— You’re everything.”

Toge presses his forehead against yours when you start crying. Gently, he frees his hand so he can wipe the tears running down your cheeks. He doesn’t get to express his emotions freely, so you do it for the two of you, that’s how it’s always been between you. That doesn’t stop him from tilting your chin so he can press his lips against yours. The kiss is soft and gentle.

“I love you,” you say for the both of you.

He wishes he could tell you that he hasn’t felt like he’d truly made it back from Shibuya until he saw you walking through the door.

When he kisses you again, he thinks you’re aware of it.

YUTA

“They agreed to entrust me with Itadori’s execution,” Yuta tells you when he finds you, anxiously waiting for him to come out of his meeting with the higher-ups. “I had to take a binding vow, but that won’t be a problem.”

He says it so casually, and you can’t help but sigh. Immediately, his eyes fill with worry.

“Is something wrong?”

You can feel his eyes scanning you, looking for an injury, and that brings a faint smile out of you. As if anything could hurt you here, in one of the last jujutsu strong place in Japan.

“I just wish you wouldn’t have to do that,” you admit with a shrug. “I wish there was another solution.” I wish you didn’t think the weight of the world is yours to take now that Gojo isn’t here to bear it.

“Oh!” He lights up, and you hate that he feels relief, because to him, it is inconsequential as long as it’s happening to him. “That’s okay. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Well, someone has to, since he won’t do it himself. You reach for his hand, fiddling with his fingers, and you can’t help but smile when you feel him freeze. You can’t believe he still reacts to your touch that way, no matter how many times you do it.

“Breathe,” you say, glancing up at him.

He flushes when he realizes he was, indeed, holding his breath.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. He doesn’t have to apologize, but he always does.

“Then I’ll go and keep an eye on Toge and Maki,” you decide. “I heard Maki’s recovering well, but I’ll see if there’s anything more they need. Maybe I’ll help Toge get back to his family.”

Yuta hesitates.

“You don’t— You don’t have to do that for me, you know?”

Ha. Guilty as charged. You’re just trying to take some of the weight off his shoulders so he won’t have to carry it all alone. You wrap your arms around his neck, smile when he turns even redder. He doesn’t move away from you though, and, after hesitating, he even closes his hands on your waist. The touch is feather-light, and you think he’d take them off if you breathed a little too hard. But it’s there, and he’s come a long way, truly.

“I know. I just want to.”

He’s crimson, but his eyes still soften at your words. With a sigh, he leans his forehead against yours.

“What have I done to get this lucky?” he marvels, and he sounds so loving you think you might just melt in your spot.

“You deserve the world,” you answer truthfully.

He lets out an embarrassed laugh that you interrupt with a kiss. His lips are soft and cautious against yours, and he is nothing but tender. You know he’s doing his best to restrain himself, both because you’re in a public space where someone could walk by and because it takes a lot more to get him out of his shell.

“Wh-what was that for?” he asks when you pull away, a pout in his voice.

“For luck,” you hum in reply. “You better come back to me.”

His fingers tighten on your waist. He doesn’t want to let go. If he could shut the whole world out and live only in your arms, he thinks he would do it in a heartbeat. But there are people out there who need saving, and you know even you can’t stop him from going to help them.

“I’ll keep your friends safe until then, okay?”

No matter what you tell him, he still doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve you. That means he should let go of you, be on his way and wish you well on yours. Instead, in an impulsive move, he wraps his arms tighter around your waist to pull you flush against his chest in a tight hug.

You laugh in surprise and hug him back, and in that moment, he is absolutely certain that there is nothing that could stop him from coming back to you.

GOJO

“Guess who’s back!” Satoru calls when he walks into your home as if nothing’s happened, as if you haven’t spent hours on the phone with various sorcerers, trying to understand what on earth was happening and if he was even still alive.

You turn to look at him with daggers in your eyes, and you want to scream, but you don’t find the words when you take in the sight of him. There’s blood on his face that he hasn’t bothered to wipe off, his clothes are torn, the blindfold he’s holding in his hand is in an even sorrier state, and despite the smile on his face, you don’t think there is a muscle to his body that isn’t in a state a tension.

“Are you okay?” you ask.

He shrugs, walks across the room to grab a towel that he vigorously rubs against his face.

“I’m always okay.”

The sentence sounds empty, and you’re about to go up to him when he drops the towel to move towards the bathroom with a groan.

“It’s not coming off,” he says before splashing his face with water.

You follow him and watch as he repeatedly rinses his face. The blood has long come off, but he doesn’t seem satisfied with it. He pours generous amounts of soap on his hands, but there is nothing more to take off there. You wait a few seconds more before joining him. You still his hand with a pressure of his wrist, clean off the remaining soap, and cut off the water. He lets you do it, just as he lets you guide him back to the bed to sit down.

“What happened?” you urge him, keeping his hands in yours. He feels so far away, even if he’s sitting inches from you, and you’re desperate to bring him back to you.

Long seconds go by before he answers you.

“I made a mistake,” he finally says, words pulled out like teeth. “That’s what happened.”

You would tell him that everyone makes mistakes, but you know what’s prompting this. He isn’t everyone. He doesn’t make mistakes. He is Satoru Gojo, the strongest sorcerer, the one in charge of preserving the balance of the world after he’s irremediably altered it simply from being born.

Your hands come up to his face, and you trace his jaw with careful fingers. He closes his eyes. Lets you ground him. He can’t think of anything else he needs more right now.

“You’ve done so much,” you whisper. “I’ve been talking to Shoko — she says that without you, human losses would be much worse.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle.

“That is always true.”

Coming from someone else, it would sound like bragging, but you know that Satoru is only stating a fact. He always saves the day, which makes this so, so much worse. You climb on the bed behind him, start massaging his shoulders. Despite himself, he can’t help but relax into your touch. He doesn’t feel like he deserves that, deserves the comfort you’re bringing to him, and yet, as always, he’s powerless against you.

“But wasn’t the point always that your students would be able to take over?” you ask, softly. “And they did. They saved you. Sounds to me like you did well, Satoru.”

Did he? Sure doesn’t feel like it.

“Hm, I guess Yuji and Megumi did real well tonight,” he admits, and he lets himself lean back into your arms fully. “Just wish… Just wish it hadn’t turned out like that.”

You press a kiss to his temple, and he sighs. He doesn’t think he will be okay again tonight. Probably not tomorrow, either — maybe not before a long time.

“Do you want me to run you a bath?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “That’d be nice.”

His eyes follow as you walk back into the bathroom.

“You’ll join me?”

A smile flashes on your face.

“Sure.”

He won’t be okay any time soon, but with you by his side, he thinks he can at least try to get there again someday.

thank you for reading! as a note, gojo's piece is written under the hypothesis that he was unsealed but unsealed before the end of the night. I hope you enjoyed these pieces, please consider reblogging and/or letting me know your thoughts in a comment, interactions are the best way of supporting me and of keeping me writing ^-^

more jujutsu kaisen x reader here (primarily gojo x reader)

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

"Is there something wrong with me, why do they hate me so much?"

Dick breathes, it's not often now that's it just him and Tim usually Damian is lurking around, or Bruce needs something.

He hesitates, putting into words anything involving Jason or Damian is always convoluted, at best.

Hate is such a interesting word even on his best day there aren't many he would say that about.

Majority are villains. People who have hurt him or his brothers.

Does he think Jason or Damian hate Tim?

No.

He believes it's a mixture of jealously, pride and just overall trauma.

"There's nothing wrong with you Baby bird, your one of the best things that have ever existed in this world. Your my baby brother."

He looks at Tim fond and soft.

He wonders about Jason mostly if he just doesn't see this, or maybe doesn't care. How can you hurt a person so badly and not even blink?

"You didn't deny that they hate me?" It's bitter.

Dick wonders when this became his life carefully trying to sew up gaping bloody wounds that with the carelessness of his brothers will never scar.

He wants to shove it in their faces see what you have done. These are consequences you broke his wings and everyday you keep trampling them. You rant and rave about what has been done to you, yet turn and do the same.

Maybe that is brotherhood cutting so deep you mark bone and not glancing back.

How is it that for all the anger that sits in his chest he could never be Cain.

He remembers after Jason first came, he had looked up the story imagined standing covered in his brothers blood.

He had wanted to vomit.

"They do not hate you, they just are cruel."

It's feels almost like a lie or maybe something nastier to say anything about two boys who aren't men even if Jason likes to pretend to be.

But where is the loyalty Tim has bled for where's Dick's?

"Cruel, is that so different, or worse?"

It's funny the leaps and jumps you can make, to excuse the most despicable of actions.

"You know Cain loved Abel? It's not so black and white."

Or it is and this is how Dick will eventually justify lowering the corpse of his brother into the ground. Will he see a smirk painting Damian's face while he stares at the grave.

Will he look across the dining table to an empty chair sharing a meal with his brother's as they bond over the murder of another. Will his father care or will he be apathetic to another dead son.

Isn't it funny that Dick expects it that it will not surprise him if one day he gets the call.

"Why do I have to be Abel why am I the one who has to Die... Dick. Don't I have the right to live?"

"Who said you had to die, why can't you be Cain?"

Maybe it's selfish or something else but if he had to pick why shouldn't it be Tim.

It's only fair after all.

"Your lying, you would never look at me again if I did what they have."

No.

"I have never denied being willing to die at your hand brother, I have already forgiven you."

[seventeenytiny]

Dry humping with SKZ plz. Im new to this channel so yeah. Take ur time

Dry Humping with Skz

Smut: MDNI

Word count: 1392 Authors Note: Well anon, you sent this ask in at either the end of May or June, it is now December. You said I could take my time and I sure did, inspiration has finally struck. I hope you enjoy! Also, the way I wrote each little blurb kinda shifted with each member so I apologize for the inconsistency

Bang Chan - Dry humping frustrates Chan, I firmly believe this man craves skin-to-skin contact badly. Why would he want to waste time dry humping when he could just rip off your clothes and feel the warmth of your skin against his? I feel like the only way you're going to get away with this would be when you take control and tie his hands behind his back. He'd be helpless, wanting to touch your body so badly as you hover over him, his hips bucking into the air. You slowly lower your body against his, grinding on his hard-on in the most teasingly possible way. He'd throw his head back while the most desperate whiney moan leaves his lips. I swear he could start tearing up because he's so desperate to actually touch you.

Lee Know - He'd love to do this as a punishment for when you start getting sassy with him. When you went to undo his belt he immediately swatted your hands away, "You don't deserve my cock angel. You were so naughty sending me those pics while you knew I was in an important meeting."

You whimper, "Minho, please. I need your cock so bad..."

"You wanna know what naughty girls get?" He asks while taking a seat and loosening his tie. He sticks his leg out and points to his thigh, "Come here angel, have a seat. If you want to get off you have to do it yourself." You begin to unbutton your jeans but you're suddenly cut off, "What are you doing?" He interrupts, "This is a punishment, keep your pants on and work for it."

You swallow hard as you straddle his thigh, the denim of your pants making it harder for you to feel what you so desperately want to feel.

Changbin - It starts with you two lounging around on a lazy day in comfy clothes and sweatpants. Then it becomes a heavy makeout session every time there is a commercial break during your show. Now, it's you on top of him desperately grinding against his hard cock. Those damn grey sweatpants he has on always get you, always perfectly outlining his member. You push yourself against his crotch, your want to feel pleasure is the only thing on your mind. He's so thick you can feel his tip pushing against your clit with each movement of your hips. You lean forward, pulling him in for a hot and heavy kiss, his hands grabbing all over your body. When you pull away you can see the dark patch forming in his pants from precum, he needs you so badly.

Hyunjin - You weren't lying when you told him you wanted him to teach you some dance moves. Your intentions were honest from the get-go. It started with a couple accidental bumps of your ass against his crotch while he was trying to guide your body. Then, you started to get an idea, and those accidental bumps no longer became accidents. He grabs you suddenly, pushing his now hard cock onto your ass, "I know what you're doing Y/N. Are you sure you want to play this game?" You smile innocently while batting your eyelashes at him, "I don't know what you're talking about," you say as you push back against his crotch. That's when he grabs you, pinning you against the floor. He hovers his body over yours, his crotch slowly making contact with your clothed pussy. He leans forward and nibbles on your neck, leaving marks. Every move he made with his body was so slow and sensual. His body is hot and heavy over yours, his skin covered in a layer of sweat that makes him look heavenly. "Hyunjin, please, I want more," you moan out. He smirks at you, "More of what? I'm not sure what you're talking about?"

Han - The two of you were spooning in bed, ready for sleep to take over your bodies. The only problem was that you couldn't quite get comfortable, unintentionally wiggling your ass against Jisung's crotch as you tried to find the right position. You felt his hold on you tighten as he took a deep breath, "I need you to hold still unless you want to stay up late doing something else." He pushes his groin into your body to help prove his point, his obvious boner pressing against you. You decide you don't even want to respond with words, all you do is push back into him. "Such a naughty girl," he says, his hips now slowly yet rhythmically grinding against you. " You can't help yourself, can you? Always horny for my cock." You whimper in response, letting your boyfriend take control of your body.

Felix - You were trying to cook a nice meal for the two of you, it was a rare night where both of your schedules lined up for you two to be home for dinner. You were standing at the counter, chopping up veggies that you would add to your dish. Felix enters the kitchen and embraces you from behind as you continue to prep. You let out a relaxed sigh as you put your knife down and sink into the embrace.

Felix pecks at your cheek, "I'm sure what you're going to make is delicious love, but I'm a bit hungry for something else." He moves his mouth to lick at your neck, a move that always makes you weak in the knees. "You're so cheesy Felix,"

"But I know you love it," he says while pushing his hard-on against you.

"Ah... please don't stop..."

That's all he had to hear, now he has you pinned against the counter, his crotch rubbing against yours most deliciously. The denim of his jeans feels heavenly against the thin material of your leggings. He has your legs shaking already, his lips all over your neck as he pleasures you.

Seungmin - Seungmin had been really busy lately, he was constantly filming for different shows and interviews. As a result, you missed him, so he let you tag along to one of his shoots. You stayed out of the way, hiding in his dressing room while he worked. Every little break he has he's in there giving you attention, hugging you, and covering you with kisses before having to go back out to film. Finally, a 30-minute break came, and he practically ran to his dressing room to see you. You were lying comfortably on the couch, scrolling away on your phone. He grabs your phone and puts it aside before crawling on top of you. You were a bit shocked at how bold he was being, "I have a 30-minute break and I'm going to not waste any time with you," he says while sucking at your neck. You put your arms around him, your hands being careful to not mess up his styled hair. "Do whatever you want to do to me then, baby." He wastes no time, his lips attacking yours, his hips pushing into yours. You spread your legs slightly, allowing him to grind his hard cock against your pussy. He's fast with his movements, eager and desperate to please you and him.

I.N - Waking up with Jeongin by your side was always a treat. He looks so gorgeous, his messy hair and deep morning voice adding to his charm. "Good morning my love," he says while pulling you close to his body. "Did you sleep well?"

"Still tired... don't want to get out of bed yet..."

"We can stay here as long as you want," he says while leaning over to place a kiss on your temple. That's when you feel it, his morning wood poking your backside. You smile to yourself, you're going to take full advantage of this situation. You arch your back to push your ass into him firmly, slowly grinding against his underwear-covered cock. He lets out a soft moan, one so quiet that you could hardly hear it. "Does that feel good baby? Do you like the way ass feels against your cock?"

He wraps his arms around you, pulling your body as tight as he can against yours while pushing back against you. "Don't you dare stop."

The two of you find your rhythm rather quickly, sweat starting to coat both of your bodies as you race to finish.

[twstfanblog]

*~Period Drama~* Romance Era- Heartslabyul

A/n: It took me a bit to think of how to like...structure this but by dorm, by boy, and bullet-pointed was the best way to get this out. Hehehe. You guys enjoy these cursed Headcanons!

(Should I add the Period Saga tag list to this???)

||Heartslabyul|| Savanaclaw || Octavinelle || Scarabia || Pomefiore + Ignihyde ||Diasomnia||

It started off as a normal afternoon. You and your boyfriend just laid down for an impromptu nap, cuddled close together and safe in each other's arms. So you can imagine their surprise when they wake up to find the bed spotted with blood. Pulling the blankets back, they see the blood coming from you...

FIRST REACTION

Riddle

Freaks out. Just, he's trying to call an ambulance, he's ready to rain hell fire, he will actually chop someone's head off. He is honestly hyperventilating, just TEARS. How could this HAPPEN!?

The freak out was so intense that it freaks you out too until you catch back up mentally and realize, 'Oh wait, it's just my period.'

You'll have to calm him down before you start explaining because he's ready to commit murder and combust all at once. Just hold him and cuddle for a minute, he needs it.

So many fucking questions. For both of your sakes, let's hope you have a deep medical understanding of your period because he will accept nothing less in your answers.

Trey

Freak Out pt 2

Much less than Riddle, but man is CONCERNED. What do you MEAN you're bleeding out of your pussy and it's NORMAL???

Asks questions but keeps interrupting to be like 'What???'. Is trying his best but it's very clear he's having some type of internal crisis that's barely contained.

Once you've explained, he'll be pretty normal about it. You will catch him sending your crotch worried glances, but he will ignore you pointing it out.

Cater

He was .2 seconds away from calling the police and an ambulance and the National Guard and starting a live stream to call his followers to do a manhunt-

Does NOT believe you saying a period was normal. It is so out of the REALM of normal, this is not a funny joke. Oh Seven, you're SERIOUS.

You telling him about periods is lowkey destroying his world. Every little fact you give he's kinda just pacing the room giving you YouTuber reaction faces. Keeps repeating his questions because he hopes so badly you're joking and he's trying to trip you up.

Once he's accepted that this is just a THING YOU DO??? he's so tired. Just takes a moment to sit with his head in his hands. Let him just stew for a bit. He'll pop back up and ask if you need anything or if you want him to even be there. He will leave if you tell him to but he will then spiral when he gets back to his room.

Ace

What the FUCK!?

Thinks you somehow fell and just started bleeding. Literally so scared and freaked out that it looped into him just calling you a fucking dumbass while he tries to take your pants off to help.

He thinks you're lying. You're either lying to protect whoever hurt you or you're lying to keep him from ripping you a new asshole for hurting yourself this badly somehow. Takes a few tries for him to finally accept that you're telling him the truth.

'What the fuck, that's so fucking weird.' Lowkey grossed out, asks you WHY YOU DO IT (Like you can control it, dumbass)

Deuce

You got a grace period of about 20 seconds to explain before he just goes out to beat the shit out of some random NRC NPC who's been eyeing you up. His brain will fill in the blanks and he will act accordingly to whatever horror story he comes up with.

If you manage to explain in time, he is just CONCERNED. Asks if you're in pain, can he hug you? Wait do you want to be hugged? Should he leave? Wait are you just bleeding right now???

You could be talking and trying to explain more or try to calm him down but his eyes keep drifting to your crotch in minor horror. His brain is his own greatest enemy at that moment.

Lowkey he is scared, but very willing to be helpful.

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY?

Riddle

Once he's had a good cry and cuddle, he is like the most annoying nursemaid.

He will order you to go to bed and STAY THERE until you've stopped bleeding.

It's a hard learning curve on what you really need to make your period comfortable, but give him a loose idea of what you want and he will do his best to get it for you. Loves having a nice cup of tea with you at night to help with your cramps.

He will collect all your homework and ask Ace and Deuce to take very good notes for you because he better not see you out of bed during this.

Once he's done with classes, he comes straight to Ramshackle to do chores and sit with you. Helps you do homework in bed, hand feeds you tarts that he had Trey make.

All-in-all, once he's out of class, you've got him all to yourself as a little butler.

If you have PMS irritability, though, watch out he will debate back with you and you'll have a screaming match.

Was really concerned about the blood mainly the blood getting on him, but give him one good puppy dog look and he's in the bed with you to cuddle.

Trey

This man is catering you your whole period. You don't even need to look at the kitchen because Trey is already putting food in your mouth.

A worrier, so the second he sees you in pain he's gonna try to give you something to eat, be it sweets or a nice soup.

Is fine with you walking around but if you do get really bad cramps, he'll try to convince you to stay home.

This man is large and his hands are big. Ask him and he will massage your back for you. Kneads you like dough.

Starts carrying little pain potions for quick relief but doesn't want to give you too many of them over the course of the week.

Super good at handling you if you have PMS mood swings since he's used to keeping Riddle from killing Ace and Deuce. Could possibly backfire though because sometimes you just wanna be angry and he's ruining that by being so helpful and understanding.

He was more concerned about your comfort but once he knows you WANT to cuddle he will be right in the bed with you until you kick him out.

Cater

Help him. He's trying to be fun-loving Cay-Cay but then he'll see you in the distance and he cant even pretend to be ok.

Kinda hovers but doesn't say anything until you do.

You've thrown him out of his element, and he's not even sure how to approach you.

Starts to manage when he approaches it like when his sisters would fight each other. Only it's you just fighting with your own body.

Best cuddler. He gets the pillows, the blankets, the candles you like. Turns his phone off and just HOLDS YOU. The phone comes back when you've fallen asleep so he can watch videos.

God, PMS emotions are a whole new battlefield that he's barely surviving. If you get it please warn him. He has his methods but he's gotta KNOW he needs to prep them.

Ace

Are you still doing that bleeding thing?

Acts like your period is the most annoying thing you decided to do.

Fucking protective as fuck. Will bully the other first years if they crowd around you in worry.

Though he acts inconvenienced, he will do whatever you ask of him with minimal whining.

Pretends you're begging him to cuddle with you when he's just crawling into the bed with you. Lowkey very nice to cuddle with because he normally has very warm hands.

The cause of the PMS anger like 4/5 times...

Deuce

He will carry everything for you. Is that actually helping? Not really but he's doing what feels right.

Tell him you want anything and he will get it. He has taken food out of Ace’s hands and given it to you.

It's kinda hilarious because he'll be going about his day normally, but then you'll call him and everyone watches this man drop EVERYTHING to see what you need.

Buys whatever you asked for in bulk, even if he doesn't need to. He thinks he's being helpful by buying you 5 bags of party-sized chips and 10 2-liters of the drink you wanted when you only asked for one of each.

He has just given in to the fact his hoodies are yours now. Wonders if he'll get them back once the period is over...

AFTER THE FACT

Riddle

He's now got your period placed on a calendar. Down to the day.

He's very proud that he already has your next period marked down on his schedule, everything is set

What do you MEAN you're not on your period? What do you MEAN your period came early!? He had a perfectly balanced schedule, what do you MEAN IT'S NOT ALWAYS 28 DAYS APART!?

Very upset if your period ever dares to 'go off schedule'. Manages to properly track it after a few months. Normally tells you when you're alone that your period is coming up.

He will ask you if you're on your period if he sees it coming up and you're upset. Please don't hit him, he's honestly asking.

Trey

WOW, that was...something...and it's gonna happen again huh???

Man's kinda dreading the next period but he does spend his downtime thinking up new recipes to give you during it.

Actually really thinks about the fruit and sugar content and how it could affect you, which fruits are good for cramping. Can he make something chilled for the headaches?

Doesn't really track your period but he will be extra conscious on your mood changes and then backtrack the days in his head to see if what he thinks is happening is.

Asks if you're ok instead if he thinks you're on your period; like a fucking decent human being.

Cater

Jesus fucking Christ, 28 days? Yeah, he'll manage to think up an actual game plan to deal with this by then. He doesn't, he fumbles through your period for a good few more times before he becomes well-versed.

He has an alarm set for the next 28 days. Lowkey forgot about your period until it happens again or when his alarm goes off for it.

Starts carrying extra pairs of your underwear and keeps one of his hoodies on him during your period. For emergencies.

Once he KNOWS you're on your period he will show up with a gift basket he put together of all your favorite things.

Wants to ask so fucking bad if you're on your period when your mood is weird, but knows better and likes not getting the spit slapped out of his mouth.

Ace

Complained more than you did during the whole thing. Acts like he isn't making the most deeply engrained mental reminder of everything that happened.

Doesn't so much as track it as he's now more aware of your mood changes during the month.

He normally asks if 'You're doing that thing again...' when he sees you kinda just lounging around miserable.

Still a brat but if you're actually having a tough period he will cuddle up and be your hot water bottle until the real one heats up.

Surprisingly doesn't ask if you're on your period during arguments. He knows next to nothing about periods but knows he will get his neck snapped if he asked that while you were already mad at him.

Deuce

So seriously asks you if you have to do that again.

Doesn't want to potentially embarrass you so he helps in tracking it by putting a red dot in his calendar for his own peace of mind. Forgets what the fuck it means after seeing it come up three weeks later.

Weirdly becomes able to sense when you start your period. Like to the minute.

You'll be in Ramshackle and your period starts. Deuce just suddenly stops at track practice like 'Something just happened...'

HOW HELPFUL ARE THEY? ♡NSFW♡

Riddle

You want him to WHAT?

Getting Riddle to fuck is hard enough as it is. You want him to do it while you're BLEEDING???

It takes a lot of talking and actually telling him the orgasms help with the cramping for him to agree. But even then he's very embarrassed and you can only do it in the shower together.

He'll act scandalized for an hour afterward but he is happy he helped ease your pain a bit.

Trey

What?

Like you both have sex regularly, he didn't think you'd...want to...while...okay...

Kinda awkward with it starting out but slowly gets more used to the idea.

He's gotta be extra cautious with cleanup since the blood is everywhere, but if it means you gotta take one less pain potion he'll do his part.

Not really into period sex, but if you ask he will help you. He just starts investing in some thick towels because he likes doing it on the bed with you.

Cater

...Yeah, Okay

Lowkey so confused but if you say it'll help, he'll help.

Really likes to finger you. Fucking paints his nails red during your period so no one makes a single comment on why his fingertips look pinkish.

Will get his clones involved if you ask him to/let him. Makes it a fun game on what's most sensitive, your pussy or your nipples?

Ace

"Gross, sure."

Literally what he says while already undoing his pants.

Like he flip-flops through your period as either being very supportive or the literal reason you're about to knock his teeth out. You have not been fucking.

So him hearing that orgasms help during this??? He's saying yes every time you ask and even offering when he sees you cramping.

Does make a comment on the period blood making it super easy to slide in. Lowkey kinda looks forward to period sex now.

Deuce

Is that...Safe???

Takes a bit of talking since, as far as he's seen, everything is achy and sensitive and you are very not in the mood like that. Not really the right setting for sex...

But once he's assured, he goes at it like getting you to orgasm is his fucking job.

Be warned, he will get into it and do his best to give you back-to-back orgasms. Overstimulation be damned.

[buzz-in-your-veins]

Hello! Love your work! Is it okay if you could write Valentino x fem!reader? Like NSFW and SFW Headcanons? Thank you, keep up the great work!!

Hi! I’m happy you like my work!!

I will give it my best shot for ya!

My opinion of Valentino fluctuates constantly, so this may seem a bit everywhere.

Valentino

Head-cannons about the famous moth pimp of hell <3

CW: NSFW content, possessive, love bombing, stalkerish, abusive, lying, non consensual drug use, plugs, sorta noncon, toxic, overstimulation.

SFW

• He in no way trusts you to dress yourself. Genuinely believes if he let you, you’d either look awful or hurt yourself. He gets Velvette to make you custom clothes in your style.

• He’s the most famous Pimp and Adult Films Producer in hell. He has more money than he can use, why wouldn’t he use that to constantly spoil his firefly?

• Absolute cuddle whore. Can and will stop his entire day if he wants a cuddle. Oh you’re busy? Forget it. Val can pay more than that stupid job anyway, you should quit, he’ll take care of you limelight.

• He uses his wings as blankets, a consequence of the cuddles is you will fall asleep on him, and sure sometimes Valentino will wake you up, but he’s just as liable to wrap you up in his wings to keep you warm.

• If he doesn’t want to wake you up and can’t keep you with him, he’ll tuck up up nice and walk in his bed, write you a note, and leave you a snack on the table.

• Constantly checks on you. Doesn’t matter if he left you five seconds ago, if he texts or calls you, you’d better answer. Claims Hells to dangerous of a place for such a pretty Coraźon, he needs to know you’re okay.

• Always has to know where you are. Definitely made Vox bug your phone. You’re the amor of the first V. He needs you safe constantly. He doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost you to his competition.

• Okay, Valentino knows he’s not that great, he knows you could find someone so much nicer, you’re such a darling it would be no hassle. But, Valentino needs you. So he overcompensates for everything. If he’s constantly around, always with a pretty word and a shiny gift, you’ll never think to look elsewhere.

• Barely ever calles you by your name, always calls you a pretty nickname, “Coraźo”, “Amor”, “Cariño”, “Firefly”, “Limelight”, and “Mi Vida” are just a few of those, wants you to always know how much you mean to him.

• Valentino only cares about your self confidence in the capacity that if you have a poor self confidence it will reflect badly on him, and will make you more withdrawn, Valentino already thinks your indescribably gorgeous, why does he need to remind you? But he does it anyway.

• Valentino is possesive. If someone else so much as breathes near you without Vals permission, you’ll find their bloody head outside your door in the morning. Always touching you when you go out.

• Has 100% slapped you when you’ve angered him before, “Oh you didn’t mean too? Too bad.” You tried to run away once. Valentino brought you back bloody and screaming. “I’m sorry Amor, you make me loco Mi Vida, never again.”

• He lovebombs you, after every fight, every disagreement, even when there nos arguments, always tells you your amazing, he loves you, “you’d never leave him.”, buys you everything and anything you could ever like.

• He gives you whiplash with his attitude towards you. Most of the time he treats you like his “preciosa princesa” showering you in as much love and affection as he can, but will also treat you like garbage. “Useless slut! ¡Solo quieres estatus, puta sucia! Leave!” He never means it. “It was — Amor, they were being so foolish today, never you firefly, I’m so sorry, let me make it up Vida.”

• Valentino owns your soul. You gave it to him freely when he drugged you, you still don’t know that Valentino owns your soul, and there’s no way for you to get it back. He doesn’t even want it to make you behave, it’s the power trip of knowing he owns you in every way.

NSFW

• If Valentino isn’t fucking you, he has you plugged full of his cum. And if it leaks? Even better. Doesn’t matter where you are, he’ll bend you over and start licking it up.

• Valentino is possessive of you. If he takes you to an event and notices anyone looking at you, he will definitely bend you over in the limo and fill your pussy with his cum again.

• Loves seeing you covered in his marks. Does not hold back, not even a long turtleneck can cover them. And if he sees you walking around wearing his marks proudly? Best prepare not to walk.

• Valentino can fuck you. If the two of you are really going at it, you won’t be able to walk of days. He will bend you in two and blow out your back.

• Loves giving you sexy presents, fucking you in the lingerie he bought you? Seeing you wearing his jewellery as he pounds you? Noticing you’ve got the plug he bought you in when he’s buried in your throat? “Fuck Vida, shittt.”

• The little noises Val makes? He makes them when he’s screwing you too. Little squeaks as he’s thrusting into your mouth, he’s wings vibrating when he’s really into it, just soft little noises as you draw pleasure from each other.

• Valentino’s never had to ask someone for permission before, and when he’s worked up he doesn’t ask you, just gets straight on with it. He will stop if you safe-word.

• Valentino’s not really big on consent, especially with his workers. With you though? For some reason it’s different, Valentino wants you to want him, not just open you legs because you were told.

• Valentino can be really rough with you, but he also loves taking his time with you, working you up and up and up slow and soft, watching as you reach your peak and fall apart so prettily, before starting all over again.

• Valentino is so verbal with you, constantly telling you how you feel, how much he adores what your doing to him, what he’s going to do tou, “My heart, Mi Vida, just like that, gonna fuck you long and slow.” “Firefly, gotta be quite so they don’t here, while I pump your pussy full of cum, gotta be quick.” “Cariño be as loud as you want, let them hear how you belong to me.”

• Valentino adores degrading you, telling you how much of a puta sucia you are, how your such a filthy slut, “you’d let anyone screw you too get off dirty slut” but he also loves praising you. Telling you your his Corazón bonito, his darling firefly, how youre “such a good girl for me, only mine, so pretty Mi Vida”, seeing your eyes glaze as you drink it all in, Val can’t get enough.

• Valentino love’s overstimulating you, fucking you until your legs are shaking, you can’t speak anymore, your moans are cut with whimpers, and you’re cumming dry? Please, he’d do it every day if you’d allow it, it only shows how well he’s doing.

• Valentino definitely has a playlist he likes to put on when he’s fucking you, setting the mood, letting you pick the song you’re going to be railed too.

• Valentino doesn’t believe in safe word really. But you were adamant you had one, otherwise you would never move past heavy petting. So Valentino agreed, he uses Charlie, you use Red. Valentino has always respected that.

• Valentino has videos of the two of you together, and some of just you, there his personal videos, no one else is allowed to ever see them. He had Vox make a secure private server even he couldn’t access for them.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

I hope it meets your expectations Anon<33

~Vyrus

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> kang yeosang x reader warning(s) -> mentions of prostitution, mentions of sex toys, mentions of non-conscensual sex, spiked drinks, abuse/neglect, etc. words -> 3.2K

abstract -> "...let me see the angel without her wings. At least... one last time."

yeosang's pov

I was dressed in a beige uniform. I was in the orange-coded kennels. I didn’t see anyone in front of me or beside me. I was completely alone…

Was she gonna come get me… pay them off, maybe? I wondered about that girl… Did she go home to her hybrids safely? I hope she’s okay…

“Be careful… there's a possibility he won’t say anything either. Kun is only letting you be on your own because he trusts in you” I heard and I saw the curtain open from my kennel and I saw an employee and the girl from yesterday. 

She wasn’t in a pretty little dress all dolled up anymore. She had a mask covering her face and an oversized sweater. “Thank you, Renjun,” she said as he left me alone with her. 

“Hello, my name is y/n.” she introduced and I nodded acknowledging her and waiting as to why she was here. “I wanted to ask what happened when I was with you?” she asked me and I debated it. She’d be another blackmail victim…

I shook my head. I couldn’t let another innocent person go down… especially one with hybrids she takes care of. 

“Please… I know rumors are going around against your owner. Those bandages on your neck also tell me that you’re hurt. She was abusive, right?” she asked and I didn’t know what to say. 

“I just want to know what happened? If you talk to the employees she won't ever cause you any more trouble” she said and I wanted so badly to believe her. 

“This is the Seoul Hybrid Rehabilitation Center, they have enough funds that no one here can be paid off. I also have friends investigating the Seoul Police Department” she said and I was shocked. 

“Not to mention lawyers if it gets even more messy. I just need the truth” she asked and I sighed. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. You seem like a genuine person” I confessed and I noticed how the corner of her eyes lifted as if she was smiling under that mask. 

“Which is why I need your help. I promise, if you want to be free I can make that happen”

She left after making that promise. I was still on edge if I should help her. 

The daughter of a CEO… of course, she’d have a connection but how was I a hundred percent sure she wouldn’t be faking it? 

“Come on, Yeosang we need to do a check-up”

y/n’s perspective

I left hoping he’d think about my deal. The nice thing about having the reputation that I do is that people offer their help to me without thinking twice. 

Taeyong was personally investigating, Jaehyun offered to be my lawyer if it got messy, and Kun was letting me see Yeosang. 

“Everyone is talking about it! Twitter is suspecting her abuser allegations!” Wonyoung said while showing me her phone to see social media completely eat her up. 

“She still hasn't made a statement but I wouldn't be surprised if she ended up lying to save herself,” NingNing said. “Yah! You’re so lucky to have him” Winter said as she ate Wooyoung’s cooking. I chuckled… I'm glad they get along with my hybrids even if San does keep his distance. Wooyoung loves having the attention and praise of others which was cute to see his big smile and tail wag. 

“There's a possibility that you might be in her statement,” Wonyoung said and I sighed. “If that's the case, she’ll get an email from Jaehyun that I'm gonna sue her,” I said and they nodded. 

“y/n-nnie!! Your phone is ringing!!” I heard Wooyoung say as he handed me my phone. “Kun?” I said while answering. “Can you come by? Yeosang is demanding to speak with you, he’s causing Doyoung some trouble” he said with a tired voice. 

“Sure,” I said and the girls looked at me expectantly. “Yeosang has something to say to me?” I said and they nodded. “Come on, I'll have the driver take you!” Wonyoung said as the girls packed up. 

“When will you come back?” I heard Wooyoung ask as I now saw San by his side having his chin on his shoulder. “I don’t know but it shouldn't be long. I'll call if I come back late” I said and they nodded. 

“Wooyoung!! Your cooking is amazing as always! y/n is lucky!!” Winter said and he thanked her with a grin. “You’ll get her back soon boys, don’t look so grumpy~,” Wonyoung said as San looked away dismissively. 

“I’ll be back soon!”

“Hello,” I said as I approached the kennel. I knew the day I spoke to him he was scared… and hesitant. He also had bandages wrapped around his neck from what I assumed to be from his collar. 

“Is she going to get me?” he asked me with his voice trying to stay strong… but even then I heard his shaky tone. “Not legally… she did come apparently trying to get you. It's like I said though… they can't be paid off” I said and he nodded. 

“And you?” he asked and I was confused at what he was implying. “Can you be paid off?” he asked and I smiled. “No, I can run this whole city if I wanted to. I can buy everything she owns too, so no I can’t be paid off” I answered and I swear I saw his tail wag slightly. 

“Adopt me,” he said and I was shocked. Did I hear wrong? “If you adopt me I'll tell you everything, '' he said and I scoffed. “It doesn’t work that way… I don’t if you're doing this for her but I can make sure you're safe” I promised and he sighed. 

“Can I ask why you'd adopt hybrids?” he asked me and I smiled softly. “Well, I don’t know, I never wanted one. But I met a hybrid that immediately fell for me. He then found a companion, despite not being good with others and now they’re with me” I explained and I didn’t notice how he was giving me a sad look. Almost like a look of sad jealousy. He smiled softly like he was happy… but also bitter. 

“I’m sorry,” he said and I was confused. “Why?” I asked and he sighed. 

“I’m not telling you anything, not until you adopt me” 

“Who does he think he is?! Does he think he can just replace us?!” I heard San yell at Wooyoung. I told them about his request. I noticed San’s annoyance spike and Wooyoung seemed insecure but neither expressed it. 

Hearing San yell his frustration made me chuckle. It made me realize just how much he’s grown and accepted me. “She wouldn’t take his proposition. She loves us” Wooyoung said and I heard San take a deep breath. “It's not about that. I know she’d never… but it's about another hybrid challenging us Wooyoung. Trying to take her from us” he said with possession. “It sounds like he wants it for protection. Not because he wants a second life” Wooyoung said and I agreed. He wanted to be free from her abuse. 

“I guess… who does he think he is tho. I hate how she’s still looking for evidence because of what that girl did. Spiked her drink to gain blackmail…” he muttered and I finally decided to step out.

“Don’t worry about that” I said and he sighed as he looked at me with a softer expression and a smile. “What's the hybrid’s name?” Wooyoung asked me and I would have answered– “Who cares?” San muttered grumpier than usual. 

“y/nnie his attitude is insufferable!!” Wooyoung said as he tackled me in a hug which I reciprocated. “Do you have to go back today?” San asked and I sighed. “Unfortunately, yes. I have a lawsuit that needs to get out rather quickly for athletes before she uploads a video twisting my situation” I said and they nodded. 

“At least eat breakfast,” Wooyoung said and I nodded. 

He fixed up a plate for me whilst they talked about a new comeback they saw on the TV. San has grown to really enjoy watching TV with Wooyoung which is sweet. Wooyoung with his perverted habit of sneaking into my room reads my books or at least the newest draft which I named circus. 

It was nice to know they had hobbies other than hanging out with me. It was reassuring when I left the apartment. I just hated how he wished to join me outside but he couldn't because of his hatred of crowded areas or even around other hybrids. Wooyoung also said how he didn’t want to cause unnecessary attention and opted out joining me despite sometimes going with me when it comes to common everyday things like grocery shopping. 

They lived comfortably. 

The opposite of the hybrid is now in front of me. 

Yeosang… a doberman hybrid, victim of abuse. And one who has refused to speak to me unless it's about me adopting him. One who also caused a lot of issues to the staff that he’s been considered to go up to red code territory. 

“Change your mind?” he asked and I shook my head. “Yeosang, you have to understand I have two hybrids already. One of them… well he’s previously a red code hybrid. He’s still considered the lowest to be on yellow. He isn’t good with other hybrids” I said and he scoffed. 

“Then why adopt such a troublesome hybrid?” he asked and I smiled. “Cause he deserved a chance–” “Are you saying I don't?” He cut me off and I shook my head. “You do. Yeosang you have a better chance of getting adopted, you’re a very pretty hybrid and well-behaved. You do have some behavior training that needs to be fixed but someone will adopt you” I explained and he sighed. 

“Just so what? I get abused again? Used for my reputation, used for sex, used! That's all I'm good for?!” he asked and I shook my head at his sudden outburst. He was angry but I saw his eyes turn glassy before he turned away and faced the corner of his kennel. 

“Yeosang… I’m sorry” was all I could say to the hybrid whose shoulders were now shaking and his ears faced flat on his ears. “You can’t tell me what to do! He’s mine, understand?!” I heard as I saw Renjun trying to stop a girl my age from stomping her heels over. 

“You! How dare you?! Abuse?! Me, abuse him? Never, and you little bitch tried your way with him. Disgusting really!” she said with her princess attitude. I noticed Yeosang hide further into a corner almost like he was hoping to disappear. 

“Yeosang~,” she said in a fake ‘soothing’ voice. “I’ll get you out of here, and we'll be together my precious boy,” she said and he now looked back almost like he wanted to believe her. 

Kun told me how he showed signs of a deprived hybrid. Meaning if she said the right things he’ll go back to her without any other words. 

“You won’t win the lawsuit. I’ll take you to court and I'll make sure the judge knows how you aren’t responsible enough to take care of your hybrid let alone two” she threatened and I glared. 

“You’re trespassing on private property, so you can either relieve yourself with your last warning or the police will be involved” I heard as I saw Kun. She scoffed and smiled her sweetly fake grin. 

“I’ll be back for you, Yeosang” 

yeosang’s pov

When she left, they asked y/n to leave as well. 

She adopted a troublesome hybrid… an abused hybrid. That was her excuse for not adopting me. Maybe she was lying? Everyone lies to get what they want… It's what my owner does. 

It was stupid to try… the punishment I get when I go back to the stupid suite will be the worst yet. 

“Yeosang, unresponsive” I heard as I didn’t move from my corner anymore. Everything was pointless. I’ll also be the reason for her losing her hybrids. Troubled hybrid who got a better second chance… Why did I have to be selfish?

I looked back to see two employees and the doctor with protective gloves to handle me.

“I’ll talk…  but only to her,” I said, one more time. 

Please let me see the angel without her wings. At least... one last time.

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Then, behave for now,” he said as I complied with them as they did their check-up and for once. I didn’t cause him trouble…

They left me in the doctor’s room when the door finally opened after some time. 

“Hello,” she said with a worried expression. “You don’t have to worry about me,” I said and she sighed, not shaking her worry.

“She’s been doing it for years. Blackmail, she would sometimes have people pay for ‘services’-”

it disgusted me that I had to explain but I had to fix what I did to her

“-or she’d spike them and have them go to an apartment she rents. It's filled with sex toys and even accommodates several kinks. She explained to me that she wanted you in her spider web of networking. So she spiked you and asked me to comply. The thing is… every person is disgusting. Drunk or sober they always go through with it… but not you? Why?” I asked curious and she sighed. 

“I don’t know. People say that when you’re drunk you do or say things your conscious thinks of. I have a happy life, Yeosang” she said and I chuckled. 

“Unfortunately, it doesn't end there. She’s abusive, physically and mentally. The medical records show it… and I think the other doctor has been analyzing me” I confessed and she smiled. 

“Thank you,” she said and I nodded. “I’m jealous of your hybrids. Even if I do go back to her, I'm glad I got to meet an angel like you” I said and she sighed. 

“Yeosang, even if it's not with me. I promise you’ll live a happier life without her” she said and as much as I wished to believe her. 

But… I at least knew even angels lied. 

y/n’s perspective

'It's all over Twitter!' Wonyoung texted through kakaotalk. The lawsuit was now public… there was hate between both sides. Mine and hers…

Mainly hers, with Yeosang’s statement but I felt guilty that he was now living in a cage when he asked me several times to take him in. 

“It's over!” Wooyoung said as the final statements were all over the news. “Do you regret telling him no?” San asked me and I shook my head. “I’m too much of an empathetic person, that's why I'm sad about it… but I could never choose Yeosang over you guys” I confessed and I noticed Wooyoung’s ears stand up. He had a horrified expression. 

“Yeosang? His name was Yeosang?!” he asked and I nodded. “You’re reacting like you knew him personally,” San said, confused at the fox’s sudden temper. 

“He was my friend! I was in the same adoption center as him. He’s a doberman hybrid that I met…” he said with a sad expression. I was gonna comfort him when I got a text…

Doyoung SOS !! Yeosang’s owner is demanding custody of him. Paparazzi are everywhere, please help !! 

I sighed and grabbed a coat. “What happened?” San asked and I sighed. “Yeosang’s owner is bringing her statement to the rehabilitation center” I explained and Wooyoung put his shoes on and coat hurriedly. “I’m coming with you!” he demanded and San scoffed while following us. 

I didn’t want to argue with them, not when what she could do could ruin my reputation but also get Yeosang back. 

After running like madmen in the streets of Seoul we got here to the front of the hybrid center where I bullied my way through the paparazzi and reporters. “Jeno!” I said and he recognized my voice as he hurdley let me in despite the protests of the media trying to get in. 

“I would never abuse a hybrid!” I heard as I noticed she was even filming. “I won’t leave, it's my right, he's my hybrid!!” she said and I scoffed at her demanding attitude. 

“You!” she said as she spotted me and started recording me. “How does it feel that you ruined my life and Yeosang's!” she demanded and I scoffed.

“Medical records prove to be different” I muttered and she scoffed. “Forged everything you did! You bought your way through this with daddy’s money!” she yelled and I would’ve fought her on it if I didn’t see the scared doberman now come out with Kun.

"Oh my poor baby!” she said and he shook his head while trying to hide behind Kun. “He’s scared of you,” I said and she scoffed. “Are these your alleged hybrids? The ones who should be euthanized for the illegal hybrid rings?” she asked and I glared. 

“That's none of your business, not when you're no better than the people who operate that cruel organization,” I said and she glared.

“It's my word versus yours–” “You’re a horrible person. I hate you when all I wanted was a fraction of what she gives her hybrids–" "Cut the tapes!” she yelled while Yeosang yelled at her. “-I never want to be in that situation again!” he yelled with tears rolling down his cheeks. 

“How much money do I have to pay you?” she now said while looking around the room. She now looked at me. “How much, name a price?” she asked almost desperate now and I smiled. 

“I don’t want your filthy money, I’d rather see your face in a courtroom,” I said and she scoffed and ran out of the building.

“Yeosang!” I heard Wooyoung now tackled the doberman.

“Wooyoung?” he asked, clearly shocked at the sudden hug from the fox hybrid. “Go back to the kennels, y/n you can talk to him there,” Kun said as Renjun led us to his kennel. 

“Thank you,” Yeosang said to me. “For what?” I asked and he sighed. “For not putting a price on me” he muttered and I smiled a sad smile. Wooyoung was crouched and leaning against the glass wall separating him from his friend. 

San had made his way to grip my arm in security. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, '' Wooyoung said softly and he nodded. “I’m happy that you got out of here. I remember the day you got sent to the adoption center only to be taken by your previous owners and taken here I presume?” he asked and Wooyoung confirmed. 

“Maybe I will be given a second chance. But thank you y/n, if it wasn't for you I’d still be in hell” he said and I sighed. “Maybe in another life, we could be adopted together,” Wooyoung said, making Yeosang smile softly. “Maybe in this life you can?” San said and I looked at him to already meet my eyes. 

“I don’t like him. But… I didn’t like Wooyoung when I first met him either” he said, making me laugh and Wooyoung let out a “Hey!” in response. 

“You mean it?” I asked and he nodded. I’m guessing he must’ve seen himself in the doberman hybrid. “You’ll adopt me?” he asked and I smiled “Only if you’d let me?” I asked and he chuckled.

“I could never say no to an angel”

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

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[calaisreno]

Classified

It’s Schrödinger’s wedding. 

1952 Words / Prompt: Jealousy

We’re sitting among the boxes of invitations, the venue’s brochures, and several dozen napkins folded into Sydney Opera Houses. John looks exhausted, and now that Mary’s gone home, I’ve suggested a break. 

I pour John a glass of scotch and hand it to him, struggling for the right words to open this discussion. If I’m not careful, it could end badly.

Sinking into my chair, I simply say, “Don’t.” 

John swallows a mouthful of whisky. “Don’t what?”

He looks confused. Of course. I’m terrible at this. Sentiment, feelings, honesty.

“Don’t… marry her.”

John sighs. “Sherlock.”

“Please, John. Just don’t.”

Confusion has given way to stubbornness, and of all people, John Watson is the most stubborn person I’ve ever known. It’s hopeless, ridiculous that I even brought this up. But it has to be said.

That night at the Landmark, when John was trying to strangle me, I promised myself that I would stop lying to him. Stop shading the truth. Just be honest. Who deserves the truth more than John, who grieved for two years, thinking his best friend was dead?

Best friend. More than I ever expected to have from this stubborn, loyal, surprising man who has always followed me, even after I broke his heart. He deserves the truth. 

And I deserve nothing. But I can’t let the man I love be hurt again, even if it means… well, I hope this won’t be our last conversation.

“What is this about?” John’s face wears that dogged expression. 

“I love you,” I begin. “And I’ve hurt you too much to pretend this is fine.”

John’s eyes widen, then narrow. “You love me. What am I supposed to do with that?”

“You called me your best friend. I don’t care what you make of it—“

“You don’t do feelings. Married to your work, grit on the lens—“

“You’re not the only one who’s grieved, John. Yes, I do have feelings. And I would be prepared to set them aside, to accept that I do not deserve your love, but I owe you the truth.”

“You love me.”

It’s bad enough that John seems to be stuck on you love me. That isn’t even the point right now. (Note to self: next time, lead with your wife-to-be is probably an assassin.) 

“Yes. Which is why I’m about to tell you the last thing you want to hear right now.”

“I’m about to get married, Sherlock! Why are you doing this now— you’ve never given me the tiniest clue that you even considered me a friend. I don’t have friends. Remember that? What is this— are you jealous? Is that what this is about?” 

I’m terrible at this. I’ve vowed to be honest, not to keep John in the dark all the time, and all John is taking from this is that I’m jealous. 

I try again. “You’re about to marry a woman you don’t know. A woman who is lying to you.”

Now John’s wearing his isn’t this ironic face. “Oh, well, I suppose I should be used to people who love me lying to me! You’ve given me plenty of practice, you know.”

“I realise my apology for that is inadequate. I understand that you will never return my feelings, and I will live with that. I’m not jealous. Marry whomever you want, John— just not her. She’s not who she claims to be. I’m telling you this because I believe you’re in danger.”

“All right, then.” Still angry, but also curious. “Tell me. Who is she?”

“I don’t know yet. I do know that she’s not Mary Morstan, who was stillborn in 1972 and buried in Chiswick Cemetery. The night I met her, I deduced that she’s hiding something, so I went to Mycroft. While I was gone, he was supposed to keep an eye on you because we believed Moriarty’s organisation might still take action against you. When I realised that she was not who she said she was, I gave him an earful for letting an unknown close to you.”

“And what did he say?”

“Nothing. He wouldn’t tell me anything about her. Classified. Which tells me most of what I needed to know. He knows exactly who she is, which suggests that she’s an agent of some sort, probably freelance. She may have done work for the British government, which would be how he knew her.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re an agent of the government, I believe. Don’t even try telling me you weren’t working for your brother these past two years. Maybe she doesn’t have clearance to tell me what kind of work she did.”

“But she hasn’t even mentioned it, has she? She told you she’s a nurse. And she’s using a name that’s not her own. You’re marrying her, John— the fact that she’s assumed a false identity—“

“—means that she’s in some sort of witness protection. That she doesn’t have clearance to tell anyone.“ Annoyed, but not in denial. Uncomfortable now that he’s thinking about it. 

“Mycroft would have said if that were the case. And he would have threatened me to keep my hands off. The fact that he’s said nothing means that she’s part of an active investigation. And most likely not currently working for the British government. If she were, he would have said.”

John is silent. 

“Ignorance is not bliss, John. You made that point quite forcefully the night I returned.”

“She’s active?” He looks dazed. 

“Mycroft wouldn’t say. But it’s not the kind of work anyone actually leaves behind.” 

“And you’re telling me this now? You couldn’t have said sooner? Christ, we’ve started planning the wedding!” Angry again.

“I wasn’t sure. I’m more certain now, though.”

John has reached his limit. “I… I’ve got to go. I can’t deal with this now. Just… I’m going.” He grabs his coat, stuffs his arms in the sleeves, and marches out the door.

… (Continues below cut)

I return from buying milk (I really must be losing my mind if I’m going to the shops, but tea requires milk and sugar and Mrs Hudson is still showing her displeasure at my inexplicable return by not running errands for me) and find Mycroft sitting in my chair. He knows, of course, which chair is mine and which is John’s, and is making a statement whose meaning I can guess. Power dynamics: my chair. 

Considering who’s paid the rent for the last two years, it actually is Mycroft’s chair. I make tea, hand a mug to Mycroft, and sit in John’s chair. 

“Well, brother.” He gives me an appraising look. 

I’m used to the evaluation; it happens every time I see my brother, that once-over to determine if (a) I’ve relapsed, (b) I’ve done something else Mycroft will regret, or c) I’m about to lie about something not covered under (a) or (b). The best way to side-track this is to get on his nerves.

“This is about John, isn’t it?” I blow on my tea. “Otherwise you would have called.”

“He came to see me yesterday, directly from seeing you. Asking what I knew about Mary Morstan. Now, where did he get the idea that she’d been lying to him, if not from you?”

“You didn’t swear me to silence.”

Mycroft sips his tea, but says nothing. He’s very good at keeping his own counsel. 

“I asked him not to marry her,” I say. “I don’t have any real proof, other than what I told him, but reasoned that it would be better not to leave it until the last moment. I’m wondering, though, why you were willing to let it happen. You let her close to John, when it’s obvious she was planted in his surgery because of me.”

Mycroft smirks. “You don’t think it was Dr Watson’s charms that drew her to him?”

“Mary Morstan isn’t like the others. Who is she working for?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you can guess.”

“I’m not giving you an unfounded hypothesis, Sherlock. The matter is still classified.” He shifts in his seat, watching me, then relents a bit. “You’re not wrong about her. But we cannot afford to tip her off yet. The marriage will be invalid, of course.”

(Note to self: Kill Mycroft.)

“This should never have happened. John is not a chess piece, a thing to be sacrificed for your game. Now, go away. I don’t want to talk to you until you can give me some answers.”

Without a word, Mycroft stands, tucks his umbrella under his arm, glares at me, and leaves. 

…

It’s night, and I’m walking. No particular destination, just around the park until I’m too tired to walk further. 

When I finally open the door of 221B, John is sitting on the stairs. 

He looks up at me, but doesn’t speak. And for once, I can’t read his look. Either he’s said something to Mary, or he hasn’t. She’s lied to him, or she’s told him the truth. He’s forgiven her or he’s broken it off. 

It’s Schrödinger’s wedding. 

I hang my coat by the door. He still hasn’t spoken, but budges over to make room for me.

“You said you love me.”

“Yes.”

“You promised not to lie.”

“I’m not lying. I do love you.”

“I mean, about Mary.”

“I spoke with Mycroft. She’s part of an active investigation, as I guessed. He wouldn’t give me details.”

“Jesus. And you love me.” 

I feel his eyes on me, but say nothing. Either he accepts it, or he doesn’t.

“You told me you were married to your work. That’s a pretty clear signal you weren’t interested. Why did you say that?”

“Because I was a coward. And soon you were dating women, which was also a clear signal, and there wasn’t any point in bringing it up again.”

“When you say love, what do you mean?”

“I want you to be happy. If that’s with someone other than me, fine. But someone who’s lying to you cannot make you happy.”

He leans closer, his shoulder against mine. “And what would make you happy? If you could have anything you want?”

“A locked room triple homicide, no murder weapon.”

He gives a low chuckle. “Idiot. I mean, what do you want from me?”

“Whatever you’ll give me. I’m prepared to be your friend for life, if that’s what you want.”

“Nothing more? Just friends? Not romantic?”

No lies, not now. “Yes, I want more. I want you to live here, to sleep in my bed, yes— with all that entails. To never leave me. But I will take what I can—”

“Yes. All of it.”

It’s my turn to be silent. 

He rubs his eyes. Sleepless night. “I told her I couldn’t marry her. You’d best let Mycroft know if he’s trying to suss her out. She’s already packing her bags.”

“Did she tell you what she is?”

“I didn’t ask. I just told her I was in love with you.”

I feel as if I’ve been punched in the gut. No, I feel like what I imagine when I think of kissing John. Breathless, heart-pounding. 

“Are you in love with me?”

“I thought you knew.” He smiles, takes my hand in his own. “Yes, I am.”

My voice shakes. “And what did she say?”

“She already knew.” His smile broadening, John leans in. 

The kiss is better than any I could imagine. 

He doesn’t let go when it ends. “So, if I’d decided to marry her anyway…” He grins. “What was your plan for that?”

The truth. I promised. “I was going to kidnap you.”

He gives me a smouldering look. “You could still do that.”

(Note to self: I’m going to have to get used to John Watson’s love language.)

...

Read/comment on AO3

[artisticmenace]

the wtnv writing team should hire one autistic person who is fixated on wtnv to fact check all the details. i dont know how theyve lost their ducks so badly. especially the weird things happening with kevin and his history, which is actually the reason that my theory that kevin being his own father for generations kind of works. it would explain why he said he grew up in desert bluffs too. either that or maybe hes just lying lmao.

i think im an optimist though because a very large part of me wants to believe that the writers have a plan and that every inconsistency has a reason and that might not even be true. it could be that theyve been doing this since 2012 and cant keep that many ducks in a row anymore, which would be a fair excuse.

which leads back to my first point that they need an autistic person for fact checking reasons.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 13

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Word : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Wednesday, November 4; 6:45 AM - Cafeteria

We’re all having breakfast together around the table in the cafeteria... well, almost. Leah is still missing. According to Alba, Engen got her out of bed this morning. I then had to explain how I got tricked by Bronze. They all had a good laugh at my expense, and they understood why Leah was absent. I don't regret my idea at all. I loved the evening we spent together. It could have ended badly, but it didn’t. The conversation we had allowed me to get rid of the knot in my stomach that I had all day. Leah finally shows up, slumping into the chair next to me. She must have gotten quite a scolding judging by her expression. Bronze had warned me she’d be in big trouble…

"Hey chica! You okay?" Alba asks him.

"You’re an idiot for asking that," Lotte sighs, rolling her eyes.

"Your mother’s the idiot," she mutters. "Stupid school. I have to deal with Bronze all day because of this crap!"

"Seriously?" I ask.

"Yeah," she sighs. "Thanks for trying to take the fall for me, though. Wiegman thought I forced you to do it, but Bronze defended me, saying it was your idea and you paid the price for lying," she laughs. "Did you really get punished?"

"In a way," I shrug. "Bronze knows how to find creative punishments… I had to do some rock climbing."

"Rock climbing? What a lame punishment!" she laughs.

"Oh, believe me, it was enough. I'm terrified of heights! She didn’t let me come down until I reached the top."

"Ouch, cruel," she mocks. "I hope I get the same kind of punishment."

I stick my tongue out at her in reply. She should just be glad she gets her breakfast. Bronze denied me more than one at the beginning. Leah barely has time to eat before it’s time. We all scatter to our obligations. Mine is to get to class on time. Bronze gave me a reminder this morning after yesterday’s events. She knows the reasons, but two tardies in one day are unacceptable according to her. Especially coming from her student. I'll try not to disappoint her too much today, especially since she seems to have a busy schedule. I'll try to keep quiet. I've managed before, so it shouldn't be too hard to do again.

Wednesday, November 4; 3:05 PM - School

I come out of my last class, relieved that my day is over. I hate classes. It's so boring to sit on a chair all day. One thing I was right about is that Bronze was indeed busy today. I didn't see her all day. Nor Leah, for that matter. Poor girl. I'm sure she’s giving her a hard time. Few people must understand what she’s going through. I do, and I feel for her. At the same time, I thank her. It's the first time I feel free at school. It’s a breath of fresh air. I walk through the halls with Alexia. We’ve decided to spend some time in the library on the ground floor to do our homework. I think I'll take the opportunity to catch up on my long backlog. It must be the Bronze effect. She makes me too serious. I could do without it, but I really need an update.

"Batlle!"

Alexia and I stop and turn to face my caller. I frown when I see Engen. We just walked past her office where the door was closed. She must have seen me on her way there.

"Yes?"

"Good timing. Bronze wants to see you. You have to meet her on the field."

I groan in frustration. I thought I was done with her for the day…

"Now?"

"What do you think?" she retorts sarcastically.

I sigh in annoyance. This is really bad timing. I would have preferred to work on my classes rather than go see her. I nod to Engen, who is waiting for my response.

"Yeah, okay. I'm going."

"Go now. She's waiting for you."

As soon as she says it, she turns back to her office. I smile foolishly as I watch her walk away. This image would definitely please Mapi. She’s totally her type of girl. My contemplation is interrupted by a little shove on my shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, but it was tempting," Alexia giggles. "What was that about? I'm starting to believe the rumors about you."

"What rumors?" I frown.

"About your sexual orientation."

"Oh, those rumors…"

Alexia looks at me curiously. Maybe she expected me to deny it. I should have, given the smile stretching her lips. I run my hand through my hair. I’m not ready to have this conversation.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"So what? Are you into girls?"

I hesitate for a moment. I would have liked to give her an answer, but it’s hard to get it out. It’s not a trust issue this time, but rather about accepting myself. You never know how people around you will react. The few people who know about my orientation took it well, but there’s always that little doubt that lingers. Once the words leave your mouth, you can’t take them back.

"Can we have this conversation later? Bronze might not be happy if I don’t go to her right away. And it would be better to have this kind of talk in a more appropriate place."

" Ona, I won't judge you if that’s the case. I m gay you know"

I roll my eyes, regretting my overly intense look. It wasn’t even to ogle. Engen is beautiful, but she’s not my type. Now that I've planted the doubt in Alexia’s mind, she won’t let go without an answer.

"I don’t understand why these rumors started. It’s not like I’m interested in anyone here."

"Stop beating around the bush," she giggles. "You wouldn't have hesitated to reply if it wasn’t true."

"Okay, fine," I relent. "I might have dated a girl and I might be a lesbian"

« I knew it...," she whispers. "Why didn’t you ever tell me!?"

"I just did," I giggle, more at her reaction than my answer. "I don’t own up to it, and I don’t like the looks people give lesbians."

"That’s no excuse," she pouts. "It's not like I wouldn’t accept you! You should have known that."

I smile amusedly, seeing her cross her arms and pout. I feel like I’ve really upset her. Was I afraid of her opinion? Not really. I know she’s gay herself. It’s just that I’m not comfortable with the subject. I’ve never been, so I don’t bring it up.

"I never doubted,  Ale. The only friend who knows is my best friend... who is also my ex."

"Nobody else knows?" she’s surprised.

"No, so if you could keep it to yourself, that would be cool."

"Of course," she smiles. « So why did you reject my sister » she jokes

"It’s mostly that I don’t want a relationship. I live on the other side of the country, and I don’t plan on staying here once school is over."

"Batlle!"

I jump when I hear my name echo in the hallway again. I turn to Engen, who doesn’t look pleased to see me still here.

"Do I have to drag you by the ear?"

"No," I stammer.

"Then hurry up before I change my mind!"

"I'll meet you at the cafeteria if Bronze doesn’t let me go earlier."

I slip this sentence to Alexia before hurrying towards the exit under Engen’s disapproving eyes. I slow down once outside, taking a deep breath. I can’t believe I just shared one of my biggest secret with Alexia. I hope she keeps it to herself. If others are to find out, I want it to be from me. I quickly reach the field next to the school buildings. A smile comes to my face when I see Bronze overseeing other students besides me. I recognize Leah and another girl I don’t know well. It’s strange to see others in my place. I walk towards my supervisor, who is reading a book. I envy them! When it’s me, she doesn’t take her eyes off me for a second and encourages me if needed. I take a deep breath halfway to gather courage. I think I know why she wants to see me... I hoped she wouldn’t find out until tomorrow. I hope I’m wrong.

"Hey Bronze," I say as I approach her. "You wanted to see me?"

"There you are," she says, looking up from her book.

"Sorry, Alexia held me up a bit," I admit. "What’s up?"

"What’s up?" she repeats sternly. "You know very well what’s up."

"Oh, right…?"

I try to play dumb, but it doesn’t seem to work. She narrows her eyes in return.

"I know you talked back to your teacher and fell asleep in class,  Ona. Does that refresh your memory?"

"Oh, that..." I say, nervously running my hand through my hair.

Damn, she already knows... I thought I had more time since she’s busy with other students today. Looks like I’m in for another scolding...

"Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?"

"Well, I thought… Just… not right away since you’re busy," I say, pointing to the two running students. "I promise it wasn’t intentional. He started speaking rudely to me. I just defended myself," I argue.

" Ona," she growls. "That’s not the point. You don’t disrespect your teacher. That was one of my main rules I told you from the start! Talking back and falling asleep in class is a big sign of disrespect."

"Two even."

"Stop treating this like a joke!" she yells.

"Sorry!" I jump.

I didn’t expect her to raise her voice. I lower my eyes to avoid hers. Damn, she’s really angry... I only glance at her when I hear her sigh. She runs her hand over her face, looking exasperated. I’ve disappointed her, I can feel it.

"Do I need to change and join them?" I ask softly, pointing to Leah and the girl.

"First, you’re going to explain what happened."

"What?" I blurt out in surprise.

"You heard me. I know the only times you talk back are to tease me or because you’re upset. So I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt by hearing your side of the story."

I’m taken aback. I didn’t expect this when I came here. I thought I’d be punished, not given a chance to explain myself. She crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. I gather myself as best I can to her surprising request.

"I-I... He yelled at me for talking to Alexia," I start. "It was the first time in class, and it was about something she didn’t understand. I defended myself by explaining, but he just got angrier. He called me a liar and said I only think about myself and never respect anything... H-he added that my father didn’t raise me properly... That’s what made me lose control," I admit. "I responded with some harsh words..."

I stare at the ground, not daring to look at her directly. I don’t feel proud, but I can’t control myself when someone insults my father. I feel nervous. If she knows what happened, she must have read the report my teacher filled out about the incident.

"That wasn’t a reason to lose your temper like that. Your words were indeed harsh, as you said."

It's confirmed, she read the report. She wouldn’t have so much detail otherwise. I avoid looking in her direction, not knowing what else to say. She’s right. From an outside perspective, my behavior was inappropriate and exaggerated. From my point of view, it wasn’t.

- It’s about your father, isn’t it?

I lift my head, surprised by her question. My mouth opens, but no words come out. How does she always hit the nail on the head? I bite my lip. I feel like an open book to her.

- The only time I mentioned him, I got a sponge thrown in my face, she reminds me. This time, you were told your father raised you poorly, and you insulted your teacher. You were lucky it was the end of the class; otherwise, you’d have ended up in the principal’s office, and I wouldn’t have been there to defend you.

- I know…

- I want to understand why you acted that way, but for that, you need to talk to me.

I close my eyes and shake my head. I know what she’s trying to do, but there’s no way I’m talking about him.

- Sorry, but I can’t.

- Ona... she sighs.

- It’s too much for me. I-I won’t talk about him, so just punish me and let’s get it over with...

I feel shaky. I look anywhere but at her eyes. One thing I know for sure is that I can’t talk about him.

- Fine, she sighs. I can’t force you, after all.

- Sorry, I murmur. It’s really a taboo subject for me... I’ve never talked about it with anyone.

- I understand, which is why you lose your temper whenever he’s mentioned.

- Uh-huh... Well, I’ll go get my gear, I say, glancing at the others.

- No.

- No?

- I’ll spare you this time. In return, promise me you won’t lose your temper on this subject again. It’s your choice not to confide, but don’t forget I’m here to help. The teachers don’t need to bear the brunt. They’re just doing their job, sharing their knowledge, and that’s it.

- I can’t promise that, but I’ll try.

She sighs, realizing she won’t get more from me.

- Well, I guess I’ll have to settle for that for now. Do you have any plans after this?

- Catching up on my classes.

- Do you have everything with you?

- I think so.

- Good, you’ll stay with me then.

- What? No, but I was supposed to mee-

- It’s non-negotiable, she interrupts. Keep complaining, and I’ll really punish you for your behavior.

I shut up, not wanting to provoke her. I just avoided one punishment; I don’t want to get another one so stupidly. She calls back Leah and the girl. She releases the girl and asks Leah and me to follow her. We head to her office where Engen hasn’t moved. She’s typing on her computer, not paying attention to us at all.

- Sit there and get your stuff out, Bronze orders, pulling a chair out in front of her desk.

I comply without thinking, given her authoritative tone. I put my bag on the second chair to make it easier to use my things. I glance at her as she starts explaining filing to Leah. I suppress a smile at her dejected look. I don’t even want to know what she made her do today. She looks exhausted.

- Get to work instead of daydreaming.

I turn around as soon as I hear her order. I hate that she knows what I’m doing without even looking at me. I take out my notes as she finishes with Leah. I pretend to be busy when she sits down in front of me. She quickly pushes her stuff—like her pen holder or keyboard—aside to make room for me. I spread out the papers Alexia lent me to catch up. This time I really get to work. It’s easier for me to focus when I know she’s keeping an eye on me, even without constantly watching. The room is silent except for Leah’s groans and the sound of pages or the keyboard. Time flies without me counting the minutes. I’ve never worked so efficiently. I’m so engrossed that I don’t hear Engen approaching from behind.

- So, Bronze, what’s the commander making you do this time?

I sit up from my slouched position, meeting her hands on the back of my chair. She removes them to massage my sore shoulders. I freeze for a moment before relaxing and leaning my head to the side as she bends over my paper, looking at it curiously. She furrows her brows, probably not understanding the content.

- I didn’t punish her, Bronze responds. She’s catching up on her classes.

- You didn’t punish her? Engen exclaims. You’re getting too soft, she chuckles.

- Oh yeah? Ask Leah for her opinion, she retorts.

- Leave me alone and keep me out of this.

We laugh at her grumbling. She must be fed up. Her posture suggests she’s about to collapse any moment.

- It’s not that I’m soft. I was just understanding this time.

- You’re lucky then. If it had been during her period, she wouldn’t have been as courteous.

I was afraid I misheard. I realize I didn’t when Bronze throws a pen that just misses my head. Engen barely dodges it. I chuckle at the thought of Bronze getting grumpy because of her period.

- It’s just a matter of luck, apparently, because she wasn’t courteous with me at all, Leah chimes in.

- Sorry for you, but Wiegman specifically said not to hold back, Engen laughs. She was really mad at you. You dared to touch her precious building, oh my! she mocks.

Tonight’s atmosphere is different from other days. They seem… More open, more relaxed. Yeah, that’s the word. There’s no pressure, no rules. It’s like I’m dealing with different people. Engen puts my bag on the floor to sit next to me. I didn’t imagine she could be so cool and funny. She’s usually so serious. I glance at the door. The hallway light is off. It’s motion-activated, meaning no one has passed by in a while. The only students who might be in the building are those going to the library, but that’s rare after classes. I guess they’re letting loose because there’s no one else around. It makes me curious about their real behavior outside of the camp. They must be cool.

- She’d better go have a drink to get over it instead of taking it out on me! Leah spits.

- If only, Bronze replies. She’s been on edge lately, she says to Engen. We have her breathing down our necks more.

- Yeah, she’s become annoying. By the way, are you feeling better after your week? she asks me.

- Yeah, I’m better. I’m dreading going home now...

- Where are you from again?

- Barcelona.

- Really? You’re from Spain ? Leah interjects.

- Yeah. I mentioned it on the first day.

- I must not have been there then, because I didn’t know.

- I probably said it before dinner since we only met at that time.

- Certainly! I would have known otherwise. I’ve always wanted to go there, she confesses. Is it a nice place?

- Let’s just say we have better weather there, I chuckle.

- Oh, that’s for sure. Nothing like here, Engen  laughs. You must have been thrilled to arrive.

- I was forced to come here, so I was already depressed before even landing, I share.

- Have you always lived there? Leah asks.

- No. I was born in Portugal and moved there when I was about twelve.

- Oh! We have another Portuguese then. Lucy is from Portugal, Engen says cheerfully.

It takes me a moment to realize who Lucy is. My eyes immediately fix on Bronze, who doesn’t seem pleased.

- Seriously, Ingrid ? she scolds harshly.

A smile spreads across my lips. I exchange a knowing look with Leah. We hold back laughter at Ingrid’s dismayed expression. She just realized her mistake.

- Crap, it slipped out, she says, biting her lip to hold back a smile.

- It’s not funny! It’s okay to relax, but you crossed the line.

I giggle to lighten the mood. This only earns me another glare from my supervisor. She should be intimidating, but I’m too euphoric for it to affect me. It must annoy her, given how strict she is about rules.

- It’s okay, relax, Leah intervenes. It’s not like we’re going to shout it from the rooftops.

- Look on the bright side, Lucy, I say, emphasizing her name. At least I won’t bother you about knowing your name anymore. It suits you, by the way.

She looks at me for a moment before sighing. I’ve been dying to know her name for so long. I knew I’d find out eventually. She hinted at it in one of our conversations. I think she didn’t expect it to be this soon. Maybe she just wanted to wait until the end of the year, which would also be understandable. Anyway, I mean it when I say it suits her. It’s unique, like her personality.

- Thank you, she replies. But I would have preferred if you didn’t know. We risk a lot by letting this kind of information slip out.

- I won’t call you by your first name if that’s what you’re afraid of, I roll my eyes.

- We both know you love breaking the rules.

- Yeah well, I giggle. I can’t help it if I enjoy teasing you!

- Of course. You can never help it.

- Hey, it’s fine, Leah says calmly. It’ll stay between us. This was by far the best evening I’ve spent ending up here. So I guess we can do this for you, she shrugs.

- Still, this rule is pointless.

- It’s there so you have more respect for us since we’re young, Engen explains.

- It’s to avoid you getting too familiar. We’re not your friends. Right, Ona? my supervisor jabs at me.

- I never wanted a friendship, I retort. Just a bit more friendliness, that’s all.

- Oh, she gives you more than you think, Engen laughs.

- I’m supposed to guide you to become better, that’s all, Bronze responds. Some students tend to forget that. That’s why I didn’t want to tell you my first name because I know you’re dying to use it.

I bite my lip. Yeah, she’s probably right. I feel targeted when she talks about students being too familiar, and it’s true that I’d love to use her first name. I understand better why this rule is important to her. I’m still the only student who dared to be so familiar with her. No one else even thought about it. To think it was just to annoy her at first. Now it’s more out of friendliness than anything else. I really appreciate Bronze.

- We won’t spread it.

- Good. Our surveillance has already doubled since the infamous relationship. The last thing we need is to defend ourselves over this, Engen says.

- What relationship? I frown.

- A relationship between a student and an instructor. Both were expelled, Bronze informs me.

- You’re actually the replacement for the student, Leah adds.

- I didn’t know that.

- Naturally, the principal kept it under wraps, Engen explains. We’ve had increased surveillance and additional rules because of it.

- That’s really lame.

- Let’s say you came at the wrong time, Leah says. You were cooler at the beginning of the year, to be honest.

- It’s not up to us. Believe me, if we could, we would be, Bronze admits. We were asked to be stricter with you because, according to her, there was a slackening.

There’s just too much information all at once. So the instructors are not only under control but also have to be less friendly and stricter with the students. It’s completely ridiculous. Okay, there was an inappropriate relationship, but that’s no reason to punish everyone.

- Anyway, Ona, Engen pulls me out of my thoughts. It’s rare to see a student come in the middle of the year. It’s actually the first time it’s happened. What did you do to end up here?

- Not much.

- Not much? Leah snickers. If you’re stuck with Bronze from the start, it’s surely not for nothing!

I frown, looking at the concerned party. It’s true that I was told she handles the worst cases since she arrived. She’s known for her cruelty. I shrug.

- If I tell you I didn’t do anything special. I found out my mother is friends with the principal, I explain. She just has no influence over me and wanted to place me somewhere. I never killed anyone or stole anything, I say ironically.

- Well. Strange way to place her daughter, Engen comments.

I smile slightly. That’s for sure. Well, the truth isn’t entirely there, but it’s kind of the summary. Lucy has been watching me from the corner of her eye for a while now. I avoid her gaze because I know she’s very observant. She’d quickly find out I’m not saying everything. I distract myself by putting away my copy that I just finished transcribing. I still have a lot to catch up on, but it’s starting to decrease slowly.

- Well, that’s enough for today, Bronze finally speaks. We’ll let you go. It’s dinner time.

- Hallelujah!

Leah drops to the floor the second she’s freed. We laugh, watching her. I think she’s had her fill for the day.

- Behave a little better, it’ll give us a break, she says.

- Oh, come on! We all know you love seeing us suffer, I tease her.

We laugh again as we pack our things. Leah gets up to put away the last folder she used. I sling my bag over my shoulder, waiting for her to finish.

- Batlle, my supervisor calls me.

- Yes?

- Since I didn’t punish you for your disrespect, you’ll do me the favor of coming here after your classes until you’ve caught up on all your coursework. Understood?

- I guess, yeah...

I’m in no position to complain. I know she’s punishing me in a way by reducing my free time, but I could have gotten much worse. If the other evenings go like this one, I’ll come willingly. Leah joins me at the door. We wish them a good evening and a good appetite before leaving. We decided to go directly to the cafeteria after checking the time.

- I feel like you might be the one to change things here.

- How so?

- It’s the first time since the incident at the beginning of the year that I’ve seen the instructors relax. It felt like going back a month in time but ten times better!

- I’m not doing anything though, I reply, shrugging.

- Yes, you are. You break the rules. That’s unheard of since she’s been here. The worst part is, she doesn’t even scold you every time you do it! I don’t even know how you stay so indifferent to the sanctions you receive. I just find it incredible. No one here reacts like you.

- If you say so, I murmur.

I don’t try to contradict her, even though everything she’s saying is false. It’s so much easier for me to play the role of the person everyone thinks I am. Apparently, I’m incredible and confident. Yet, I’m just a girl eaten up inside. I couldn’t be happier that Bronze is my supervisor. She’s understanding, and I feel listened to and supported. That’s what helps me accept my punishments. I know she’ll only inflict them if she has a good reason. I don’t find her as terrible as the rumors say after spending time with her.

- Well, I laugh. No one has ever been able to control me completely, and that’s not likely to change.

- Yeah, well, I don’t know how you handle Bronze. She made me endure some things today! I thought I was going to die more than once!

I giggle, thinking she’s exaggerating. Well, maybe not after all. Bronze did force me to scrub toilets one day. I think I’ll never forget that memory. Leah looks exhausted, so I don’t doubt she went all out. My supervisor is disliked by many students, if not everyone. Yet, they don’t know what they’re missing. She’s cool if you get past her cold side. Her punishments aren’t my favorite, but she’s always been fair with me. Our relationship has evolved too. We know each other now. I’ve reached the point where I’m starting to trust her enough to open up. She’s always been there to encourage and push me through my difficulties. That’s what I was missing, and that’s why I’m not afraid of her. I know she’ll be there for me if I’m feeling down. If I’m afraid, it’s only when she’s really angry with me, because then I know I’m in for a hard time. In those moments, I shut up and let her explode. Other than that, I know she’ll always be there for me. It’s with a smile on our faces that we pass through the cafeteria doors. Unlike Leah, I don’t think I’m the one who can change things here. A simple student like me doesn’t have the influence to change a school like this. All that matters to me anyway is finding myself, and I hope to achieve that.

[moonrisecoeur]

carnage — leon kennedy

author’s note: this is a secondary piece to apathy, another fic of mine!! that fic was mostly a vent fic, as i wrote it to kinda soothe myself and my own worries about how i feel as a person. however!! this fic was requested to be significantly darker and sadder, so if you don’t vibe with that, then i have good news for u !! leon and reader actually lived happily ever after in that universe!! the original intent of that fic is that the reader just has the self perception of a bad person but is actually not at all!! but this fic… is not that haha.. 

author’s note: if you see typos, no you don’t. they’re not real. this fic is... really messy. i'm kinda ashamed but i've been working on it so long that i need to just post it lol.

word count: 5.3k 

content: leon x reader, sub!leon, dom!fem!reader, angst angst angst, biting, hickieys, riding, choking, leon gets lightheaded and passes out, violent language. there's also a reference to a scene from apathy but from more of leon's recollection and memory! :)

warning: this fic is dark content, containing the topics and depictions of emotional abuse, manipulation, love-bombing ish, narcissistic reader, along with dubcon as reader doesn’t listen when leon expresses a boundary around choking. 

—

notes:

“you’re killing me here,” he says, a soft tone to his gravel-like voice. he is tired, exasperated. you are ripping him apart, stealing any sense of joy from his aching soul. he gives and gives and gives and he doesn’t know how much longer he has in him before you…  before maybe he admits that you were right. maybe you would ruin him.

you don’t know the half of it, you think. maybe i will really kill you one of these days.

—

leon is growing.. tired of you. 

not really. that’s a lie. he loves you dearly, so much that it kills him. you refuse to open up to him and he respects your boundaries. he just can’t keep begging you to let him in. he can’t do this forever. 

he’s not mad that you’re closed off, that you’re a loner and you’re introverted. he accepts you for what you are. he loves you regardless, but can’t you see this hurts him? can’t you at least make an attempt to make him feel better? pushing him away only hurts him, and why did you agree to a relationship if you knew that all you were going to do is hurt him? 

he supposes you warned him. that beautiful night that he convinced you to let him stay in your heart. he looks back at that moment, how you looked close to tears, pushing him back, telling him that you’ll ruin him and anything else you touch, and all he could think about is how badly he wanted to kiss you, to hold you close and wipe away the tears of frustration. he’s fond of that moment, when you decided to stay with him. when you said you’d take your time, move slowly, but you’d eventually let him in. he just had to be patient.

but its been months, and leon hates being wrong, but he might have been that night. 

–

leon’s always seen the good in you. he admires how gentle and sweet you are. you say it’s just a facade, and you know what? he doesn’t believe you. he knows you’re trying to protect yourself, but you’re lying. the version of you that you think is the real you is actually the facade. he knows it. he believes it, believes in you.

“i will begin to despise you if i let you in, you realize that, right?” you said to him that night, and he just shook his head, smiling. he adores you, almost amused at how you were making yourself out to be an awful monster in hopes he’d have understood that he could never fix you.

“and i will adore every moment of your resentment,” he said, and then followed it up with a whisper, under his breath, one you might not have heard, “i will let you ruin me.”

your touch is lethal, that much he’s certain of. he knows you’re not trying to hurt him, he’s convinced it's not in your nature to be intentionally cruel, “i won’t get better. i won’t change for you. this is what you’re stuck with.”

but what was he supposed to do? listen to you? heed your warning? he’s too foolish, too lovesick.

“it’s okay,” he reassures, reciprocating your harsh touch with his gentle one, fingertips making acquaintances with the way your skin feels in his grasp, the warmth of your touch. he’s starting to feel like this beautiful monster in front of him is a lot more human than she feels, “i like you as you are.”

-

leon doesn’t quite remember when you got so overbearingly possessive. maybe you were a little controlling, a little too demanding. it didn’t really make sense because anytime he tried to be possessive over you, you hated it. you certainly weren’t clingy. leon learned to control the instinct, the one that screamed in his head that you were his.  he gets it. you’re independent, not exactly into the jealous boyfriend type, sure. it only hurts his ego a little bit. 

he doesn’t really even remember when your behavior started going downhill. it was just like.. one day, he woke up, and you had left. not actually, you were just outside, but it feels symbolic somehow. he calls your name, and you don’t answer. he takes a couple steps closer, but he gets this eerie feeling he’s stepping into dangerous territory. he wonders if he should turn back, give you some time and let your soul come back to your body. 

“i don’t love you,” you said to him that day. 

it shattered him momentarily, but he knew your ways. he was aware of how you act and talk, your bluntness didn’t even surprise him anymore. he learned not to try and fight you on this stuff anymore.

that’s not true.. is what he wanted to say.

“…since when?” is what he actually ended up saying. 

you sigh, “i don’t know. i just woke up today and i realized i didn’t love you anymore.”

“do you… feel love for someone else?” he asks, but that’s not what he’s really asking. leon would never believe you if you said you cheated on him. you don’t even like people. you could count on your hand the amount of people you liked to talk to. 

leon maintains being one of them, of course. how could he believe that you made a connection with another man when you can only tolerate him? 

so, what he’s really asking is ‘do you… feel anything right now?’. sometimes emotions go away. sometimes you find yourself sitting outside in the early morning even though it’s cold and you’re shivering, wondering why you don’t love your boyfriend anymore. 

he puts his jacket over your shoulders. that feels symbolic somehow too.

it usually passes, but there’s something so final in your tone. like… for the first time, leon was worried you’re being truthful. he was worried you didn’t love him.

he had every reason to be. you used to pull away and then come right back to him, and now… you almost seem to resent him. crazy, it’s almost like you said this would happen. he hates that he was wrong about you, he hates that you were right. 

you flinch away when he touches you sometimes. your words are harsher than usual, more venomous, more lethal. you’re slipping away from him, you’re running away, and he’s begging for you to come back to him. just come back to him.

and even now, he looks at you and you aren’t the girl he fell in love with. but maybe you never changed. maybe he has just been blind. 

maybe you were exactly who you said you’d be. 

did you even want him? or would you get off anyway on taunting him?

did he mean anything to you?

-

“i am your… sculpture. your muse. i am everything you made me to be,” he says softly, one day during a vicious argument (only one of you is truly venomous), his eyes still red from the tears you made him spill, “if you do not like me, or if you don’t like what i’ve become, it is your own fault. i am only what you… did to me.”

he says pretty words that tug on your heartstrings if only to get some kind of empathy out of you. you’d normally scoff, spitting at him that he was a broken mess before you fixed him up, made him useful to somebody. 

“you act like i ruined you. like i made you worse. i did not drag you down with me. we were both broken. both disasters who just wanted to be loved,” you know you’re bullshitting just for pity points. doesn’t change the face that leon almost falters. almost gives in, lets you win. you were right, in a way. you were just being intentionally oblivious. 

“me wanting to be loved was… so much different. i wanted to be cherished and…held dear to you. you wanted a trophy that would make you feel better about yourself.”

“i am not the monster you say i am,” you scowl, finally he sees your harshness, your cruelty, and your dismissiveness in full force. how was he so blind?

“you’re right…” he says, “you… are so much worse.”

“then push me off of you, make me leave,” you groan, pinning him down like a caged animal. 

“i’m not… i..” i stutters, looking up the ceiling, “oh my god..”

“i am the only god you get to call out for,” you say as you press kisses to his collarbone, “i hold that power over you. i am your god.”

“i won’t worship you anymore,” he gasps, but his hands reach up to hold your hips, latching onto you for support and intimacy, like you are everything he’s ever needed and he despises you for it, “not what you’ve become. i can’t accept this…. version of you.”

“this is me, leon,” your voice is distant. resigned. he’s given up on you. and you’ve given up on him. 

so why do you demand his reverence so desperately? if you didn’t want him to run, why didn’t you treat him right in the first place?

“i love you, you know,” he says, tears pricking at his eyes, “i am just your design, molded to how you wanted me, but you designed me to love you… so that’s what i do.”

“i didn’t ask you to destroy yourself for me.”

“but i did anyway,” he closes his eyes, breathing ragged, “but i did and i did it because i loved you. i did it so that maybe one day you wouldn’t run away from me if i loved you too much. i.. i don’t act overbearing or clingy like i am inside because i am horrified of you leaving me. if i try too hard, if i want you too much, if am too desperate for your company… i will lose you. i can’t live with that.”

“then why do you call me worse than a monster? if you need me so badly?”

“because i..  i wanted you to destroy me and build me anew. recreate me in your image so you could have exactly what you wanted. make me exactly what you wanted!” he’s desperate for you to understand, but you never will. you don’t know desperation like he does, “i.. i just made the naive assumption that you would love your creation more than you loved what i used to be. that somehow.. if i let you ruin me, you’d finally love me.”

“i do love you,” you whisper, voice heavy with a tragedy you are all too familiar with.

“no… you don’t love anyone,” he bites, his teeth grazing his own lip like he would draw his own blood, “not even yourself. you’re incapable.”

“then it is your fault..” you say, cruelty laced into your voice, but how could you not be cruel when leon’s finally biting back? “you did this to yourself. you ruined yourself for someone you knew couldn’t love you.”

he feels broken. betrayed. how is this his fault? how could you hate him so intensely? how could you want him to suffer? do you enjoy watching him suffer? is that the only way he can make you happy anymore?

is that the only thing you want from him? his suffering? his tears?

does he give that to you? just… as one final way to make you happy? he’d ruin himself again and again to please you if you said so.

he’d give you anything.

you push him down, and he stumbles back onto the bed, looking up at you nervously. he notices the look in your eyes, the look of possession, you see him like an object or a toy. maybe he is. a trophy. you look at him like he’s something that makes you feel proud to carry around. leon kennedy. he’s a survivor, he's a killer, been through literal hell on earth. yet… your hands on him make him feel weak. he feels like he’s 21 again, on that bridge holding onto the last girl that dug her nails into his heart. 

“you’re fucking mine,” you growl in his ear, and he gasps and shudders, when did you get so close to him? you can’t put your hands on him like this, you can’t do this, his mind will go numb to the pain you cause and suddenly he’ll be held beneath you, inescapably yours. 

“you.. you need to… oh my god..” he was so close to saying it. so, so close. he tries so hard to push you away. to get you off of him. not in a way that he couldn’t stop you if he really didn’t want this. but that's just it; he’s trying to convince himself that he doesn’t want you for his own sake.

you make it so hard to hate you, truly. 

“you’re mine,” you growl in his ear, your nails digging into him like claws of a predator into its most delicious prey, “i own you. say that back to me.”

he cries like a baby, hating that he was naive enough to believe that the devil could love him, she could never love him and he could never please her enough to make her stay, “i’m yours, and.. and you own me,” he says, sniffling. he buries his head into the pillow. you push him, hold him down like he’s your captive. he might as well be. 

“and that means i own your pretty body, doesn’t it?” you smirk, god this control over him has always been addicting. you.. really own him.

“y-yeah..” 

“that means i can do whatever i want with you, doesn’t it? i can break you in every way possible, like a girl scribbling on and cutting the hair of her barbies. you don’t exist outside of me, outside of my pleasure.”

-

“fuck, you’re so hot when you’re sad..” you groan as you press kisses to his hip, and he didn’t even realize you had gotten his shirt off and his pants pulled down. he must have dissociated again. he sighs, upset but unable to will himself up to stop you.

at least you’re trying to please him, he supposes. your hands wandering all over him makes him feel alive, but he wonders if you’re imagining wrapping your hands around his throat and squeezing until he stops moving. maybe you would take a liking to killing. 

or maybe it’s just because it’s leon. leon is your weak, pathetic boyfriend that you’ll play with like a ken doll until you’re bored of him, and then you’ll either put him out of his misery or leave him to rot. maybe murder is mercy for him. the worst part is he looks just like a ken doll, blue eyes and blonde hair, except he’s a bit more broken. a bit scarred. damaged. is that why you don’t want him? he’s not perfect enough?

and then it happens. 

everything stops, his breath catches in his chest, he flinches almost like he’s surprised you still had it in you, but you kiss him. it’s not possessive and dark and commanding like he expects, like he’s begun to tolerate, but it’s you. it’s your softness, hidden underneath, that gentle lover that he misses so desperately. she’s back. she’s real again. 

you rest your forehead against his as you pull away from the kiss, leon chasing your lips briefly before remembering this is your moment, at your pace, but he’s looking up at you like you put the stars in the sky, his eyes sparkling with magic and passion and hope he hasn’t felt in a while. 

“come back to me..” he whispers gently, “i miss you.”

“i.. know,” you frown, and leon can tell you feel guilty. you are the monster in his nightmares, but you are also his guardian angel, “i told you, leon-”

“i know you did, i- i don’t want to fight with you right now,” his eyes flutter closed as you press your lips to his forehead, god he feels so cared for in moments like these.

but he knows they’re not real. he knows this version of you isn’t real, that your love is a false pretense and he is a fool for being swept off his feet by such an obvious facade. a monster that loves you is still a monster.

and leon knows it. knows that you love him, despite his insecurities and doubts. maybe it was safer or easier to ponder whether or not you loved him, to listen to you when you said you didn’t, instead of realizing that you did… just not enough.

he feels your grasp on his waist, the way your hands and mouth ravage his body. he knows you’re possessive, but it still shocks him how truly cruel you are. 

“please…” he whimpers, “be gentle with me..”

“ah, leon.. survived the apocalypse but can’t handle his girlfriend biting him a little too hard..” you chuckle, and it’s soft and you’re being sweet with him again and everything is okay. 

“don’t be like that, come on. it still hurts,” his voice is shaky, making you smile. such a sadist.

“don’t be such a baby,” you tease.

“just- okay, fine, but i don’t want any hickies or bite marks or anything. n-not anywhere visible, at least,” he stumbles when your fingertips drag across his collarbone, “please, baby. i need to hide them, my… my coworkers will get worried.”

he sees it in your eyes. mercy. begging always saved him.

“hmm… open your mouth,” you say, and he’s not even trying to follow the command, but the surprises causes his jaw to drop slightly, and you lean closer, before spitting directly into his mouth. 

your saliva tastes like your favorite flavor of gum, and leon smiles as he recollects that fact. it’s sweet of you to only do something like that to him when it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant. maybe you didn’t think it out that far, but he likes to think you did. he wants to think you were considerate. he groans as he swallows it without even having to ask, almost sounding dehydrated, like you are his lifeline. 

your intentions, while a tad bit humiliating, are not cruel. but again, you’re showing possession. leon is yours to do whatever you please with. it’s marking your territory, in a way.

“thank you..” he shudders, hands clutching your arms, keeping you close. he’s not truly grateful, but he’s learned his place. 

“you’re welcome,” your tone is condescending, but leon’s thoughts are too far away to realize that. all he knows how to do anymore is be obedient.

a brief silence settles for a moment, as you rest atop of him, gazing at him like a predator does their next meal. 

“do you… want to fuck me now?” he asks awkwardly, cringing at how completely uncool he is. 

maybe someone else would laugh at his lack of charisma, but you just smile softly. 

“is that what you want?” in truth, he does want this. he does want you. and he prides himself on giving you whatever you want, everything, absolutely anything. it’s too bad all you know how to do is take.

he sighs, feeling heavy-hearted and drained. he can’t pinpoint why, “i love you. do whatever you want.”

you blink, and he wonders for a moment if you feel guilty again, but part of him can tell you’re not.

you narrow your eyes. he seems.. broken down by this point. honestly, ‘broken down’ might not exactly be the right wording. ‘broken in’ might be more appropriate. like a pair of boots that are only comfortable once you rough them up a little. 

it’s at that moment that he realizes the softness he saw in you just now is fading away rapidly, replaced again by the monstrous beast that is his darling lover. at least she’s familiar now. it’s his fault. you are exactly who you said you were. he should have believed you. 

he thinks this is it, that this is the last time he’ll get to have you before you leave him. you steal all of his sunshine like a parasite, robbing him of all of his life energy and taking it for yourself. the only way you can feel whole anymore is to take leon apart and use him for everything his mortal body and soul has to offer. 

he remembers being the light in your life, cheering you up when you were down. you were his moon, and he shined his light onto you like the sunlight gives way to moonlight. 

but that isn’t real anymore. you aren’t the damaged but loving person he used to know. 

“are you… going to leave after?” he asks. he’s pouting ever so slightly but he doesn’t realize it.

you just gaze at him, eyes soft but knowing, and he can’t help but crying. he tries so hard not to be clingy or ‘too much’. makes himself less and less to make you comfortable. 

“please don’t leave me,” he cries, “please, i can’t bear to think about it. my… my love, please..”

part of him feels like if he lets you leave again, you won’t ever come back.

he can’t understand why he’s so desperate for you to stay. he feels your hand around his neck as you lean in close to kiss his shoulder, you don’t squeeze but your presence is known and feared just like you like it, your other hand falling lower and lower until… 

leon can’t fathom just how wrong he was about you, about everything in general, but what hurts the most is putting the timeline together. it starts with him realizing he loved you. you realizing you loved him. the gentle, sweet months he got to spend with you. sure, you were unconventional, but he’s not the nuclear family type either. 

to him realizing you didn’t love him, actually. 

to then realizing that you did love him, but not enough to change for him. that one hurt the most.  knowing that you’ll always choose your comfort over him.

and to finally coming to terms with the fact that your love is strong and real but it is rotten, that you and your heart are corrupting him and made something tragic out of him. 

he sighs, letting it all happen. he might as well let you have what you want. he feels your hand rubbing against the fabric of his pants over his crotch, teasing him. 

he’s almost happy you’re using him one last time for sex. it’ll give him something to distract his mind from the sadness that’s creeping into his heart.

“i think… my boy needs to feel good.. so he can stop thinking sad thoughts..” your free hand pulls his sweats down and feel him up over his boxers, and he hates that he’s getting hard. that he likes this. he likes being taken by the big, bad monster.

he lets you touch him, lets you strip him down both metaphorically and physically, until he’s bare, a blank canvas ready to be ruined. he has literal scars from bites that drew blood, teeth bared into his skin like you’re trying to consume him alive. 

maybe you are.

this isn’t intimate sex between two lovers. this is carnage. this is ravaging, taking what is rightfully yours. it may not be violence in its usual form, but you are no less deadly. 

you really can’t help yourself when you have the urge to grab his throat, can you? hold his life in your hands, why don’t you?

he wants to make love to you, to hold you close like he used to, fuck you until your mind let go of its need to be in control, to be apathetic and composed and cold and just let you be the soft soul he knows is in there, fucking somewhere in there. 

instead of that, he gets something completely different. claiming. ownership. you mark your territory like an violent dog, biting and scratching and ruining him until everyone else in his life got the hint that he wasn’t allowed to play with anyone else. 

you’re violently possessive, that’s the only way he can put it. and even now, when he should be kissing you and moaning in your ear about how good you feel around his cock, how perfect you are for him, how he wants to be good for you, exactly what you want in your man, he.. can’t. 

all he can do is whine and whimper like an injured puppy. 

instead of kissing you, he’s begging for mercy. instead of making love to you, he’s lost in a daze of pain, mixed in with the pleasure of his cock buried inside of you. your teeth fucking hurt when you bite him like a damn vampire. just like the last time you were in a possessive mood, you bite him hard enough to make him bleed.

“i… i love you,” he whimpers after the fact, his voice is shaky like he’s desperate, “i love you but you’re… i don’t like it when you’re like this”

“who do you belong to?” you ask, suddenly. 

it feels unrelated, but even though leon’s eyebrows furrow at the question, he responds, like it’s an instinct, or rather more it’s a response he’s gives hundreds of times, “you. it’s.. always gonna be you.”

“… i love you too, you know. sometimes i think you don’t believe me,” rich coming from the ‘i don’t love anybody’ girl, he thinks, “but i do. i’m always gonna love you. you just don’t like the way i love you.”

“because the way you love me is killing me.”

“i’m not a killer. you asked me to let you in. this is the real me, leon. if you don’t like what you see… then don’t look.”

“i do but i-”

“you wish you were the exception to the rule. you want to be the reason i change. honestly, leon? i’ll never get better. and i told you that months ago, but you never listened. you thought you could fix me.”

“you aren’t broken,” he whispers.

“then why do you insist on changing me?” 

he scoffs, “that’s rich coming from you.” he knows you’ll get annoyed at him for his sass, but he can’t help it. you’re a violent hypocrite and he adores you, but he can’t ignore the irony of you feeling forced to change.

you tighten your grip on his neck, and he should have told you months ago but he hates being choked. brings up old memories that he’d rather not remember. he doesn’t really know why he lets you do it, why he tolerates it. maybe it’s because you seem so pleased to be in control of his life like that. he can’t afford to piss you off too much. you might like murder a little too much. 

“why do you insist on fixing me?” you ask again. loosing up your grip to let him talk.

“i… i never wanted to fix you. i just wanted you to love me. i wanted… to make you happy.”

he lets out the cutest gasp when you finally use your free hand to pull his cock free, not even bothering to pull his boxers down all the way.

“awh, you’re still so soft, baby. do you not want me?” you taunt him, and he quickly tries to reassure you, shaking his head. 

“n-no! i do! i want you, just.. just give me a second..” he stutters helplessly, but his voice gives out when you lean down to kiss his hip bone, and then your lips trail down lower and lower, adoring his thighs with the remnants of your lip gloss, “oh god…”

he’s pretty. pretty like a prey animal. 

you decide that maybe its not fair to him that he’s almost butt naked and you’re still fully clothed, so you undress too. leon appreciates that you do it to please him. 

“i… you’re so fucking pretty,” he whimpers, begging you to kiss him again. can he just pretend like you’re making love? instead of… whatever this is? 

his cock isn’t super big, so it’s not hard to fit inside, especially since he’s just barely getting hard. seeing your body was enough to get him going. he likes everything about you. every beauty mark or mole or freckle, every scar and each divot and curve, he adores you.

your smile isn’t appreciative. it is greedy. avaricious. you.. need more of him. 

“you feel… so perfect inside of me..” you groan, the grip on his neck tightening as he obediently rocks his hips up to fuck you. his hands grasp at the sheets, white knuckles displaying how tense he feels. 

a shaky, almost fearful moan escapes his throat, “please.. please don’t squeeze that hard.”

again, leon doesn’t like being choked.. so many times he’s almost been killed, and yet… you don’t seem to care. you don’t squeeze hard enough to make him pass out, but he’s getting lightheaded, so much so that you’re having to pick up the slack of bouncing on his cock since he’s unable to keep pace. he just lays there helplessly while you steal away his life.

“leon..” you tease, holding in a giggle, and trying to stir his attention, but his eyes get cloudy and he can’t focus on you, can’t look you in the eye meaningfully.

all he can respond with is a half-hearted attempt at a ‘huh?’. it’s honestly kind of cute how easily fucked out he gets. you ease up, and he breathes deeply for the first time in a couple minutes, gasping out ‘thank you’s like you just saved his life instead of almost killing him. 

“i’m sorry you got stuck with someone like me, baby,” you murmur, you’re not really sorry. tears fall down his cheeks, and you lean down to lick them up like a dog drinks her water. he cringes, disgusted at the feeling, but you own him so intrinsically.. how could he ever stop you from doing exactly what you wanted to him? this was your world. he just lived in it.

—

leon wakes up the next morning, expecting to be alone in your shared bedroom after you had left. you’re not completely awful, you clean him up and bandage any cuts after you finished with him… and leon realizes he doesn’t exactly remember anything after you choking him a little too aggressive, he must have passed out. did he cum even while unconscious? he’s almost impressed.

he doesn’t remember you leaving, just the looming thought in his mind that you will leave. there was no doubt about it.

you’re not there, clearly, and he doesn’t hear you anywhere in the bathroom or in the kitchen. the silence is deafening. 

maybe you’re on a walk to clear your head? 

maybe… you’re really gone.

but your stuff is still at home, so he thinks you might still stay. he cant decide if that’s a good thing. sure, he can’t exist without you, so codependent it’s pathetic, but… you’re not exactly good for him. maybe it’d do him some good to pull himself together and get over you. if he even can.

he loves you. helplessly. desperately. but you love his pain more than you love him. that’s the truth and there’s no denying that. you are.. exactly who you said you’d be. it’s his fault for not believing you.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

on the subject of Frank, Frank & Julie, and Franklydear 

I used to think that Frank will probably be one of the more skeptical puppets, and prone to being one of the first to see that not all is as it seems. And I think the majority of us think/thought this! 

But thanks to Riv i have entirely changed my tune. I think Frank will actively be avoiding the truth & clinging to the illusion. Here’s why!

Frank is portrayed as the most “rigid” neighbor - hell, it’s even part of his design! He likes routine, rules, for things to be ‘just so’ in his eyes. He doesn’t seem to like it when things stray from how they’re supposed to be. Everything has a time and a place. 

(and this might be mildly insane but blame Riv not me bc they said it, but in Just So Frank says “i like it best when red goes in front of the rest”, and if red is Wally… dot dot dot…) 

Then there’s how Frank will very likely be trying extremely hard to be something he’s not. And this is part of his design, too - he’s the only one in the cast without a natural blush. Yes, we’ve seen art where he can blush, but that’s in specific situations. In the bio images Frank is the only one without that little extra bit of color to his cheeks - he has two huge red splotches on him instead. Fake blush. Big and bright and impossible to ignore. 

And I’m gonna be diving a bit into Franklydear & Frank’s relationship with Julie because it’s important to this. 

I have also changed my tune on Franklydear - slightly. Welcome Home seems to be an example of nonlinear storytelling, as we’ve been getting bits and pieces from all over the place. The Live Interview from the early days, WHRP & Wally’s secret vinyl audios from “now”, the bug audios from an indeterminate time… so while I do think Franklydear is “already happening” within the main meat of the “past”, we will likely also get a chance to see before and after. And I do think there will be an after.

But I’m getting ahead of myself! Why do I think we’re going to see an established Franklydear? I’m going to be honest. A kofi post that I accidentally saw when a friend was sharing their screen with me and didn’t notice until it was too late </3 I should have looked away! But I didn’t, and that’s on me! I won’t say what I saw (it would be a theory anyways, nothing explicit or concrete in the evidence!) but it immediately convinced me that Frank & Eddie are in a secret relationship. I want to say more very badly, but if i’m proven right in tonight’s stream then I will be sharing Why I’m right. 

More reasoning that is obvious with this context - the whole “Mr. Dear / Frank- i mean Mr. Frankly!” thing might be part of this fabricated distance. I would completely believe you if you told me that Frank had them both refer to each other professionally to keep up the facade that they’re nothing but neighbors, nothing going on here nosiree. They definitely don’t meet in the woods to be romantic! That added with how unusually playful Frank is with Eddie in 8-14 is interesting… though I can also believe that those audios are from “before” their relationship, given that Frank seems to be dropping a hint with the whole “ You don’t need to be that familiar with them in order to get to know them better!” line. I don’t know - there are a bunch of contradictions that could be them acting, could be differences in the timeline, who’s to say yet! 

Anyway, so Franklydear is likely in a secret relationship, but I think Frank is going to get scared, call it off, and try to force a relationship with Julie. As in lying to her and everyone that he has feelings for her, and fulfilling their “destiny” in becoming a couple. I think Frank is where a lot of the internalized homophobia is going to come in.

In most of the Franklydear art we’ve seen from Clown, Frank seems to be very nervous and flustered around Eddie while Eddie seems to be more calm and forward. Frank has already proven to have a bit of a nervous disposition - he’s certainly high strung. That combined with his rigidity, the airs he puts on, and just… everything about him really, I don’t think he’ll be able to handle the pressure. 

(side note: the way that Clown said that he wishes they hadn’t let everyone know about Franklydear, it’s ok because it’s “not a major spoiler” has been fucking me up a little. Wym it’s not a Major spoiler? It’s so funny… we’ve all been like “Franklydear will be Thee relationship and a big thing-” and then it’s Not. lmao) 

Then there’s the song Clown associates with Franklydear, “Esperar pra ver”. @/Theneighborhoodwatch gave a translation/interpretation of the lyrics - cannot for the life of me find the og ask/post to link, but (if I’m remembering correctly) it was essentially said that the song is about love that doesn’t last / lost love. My friend Akemi (@/akemima <3) provided an alternate interpretation - to quote:

“...to me, it speaks about how they’re both Unable to speak up about their love? and the “wait and see” part is most likely them waiting for the other to make a first step or like. something Hopeful yknow?”

As both a tragedy enjoyer and a happy-end enjoyer, I wouldn’t mind either interpretation being accurate, personally! So Akemi has given us a sprinkle of hope for Franklydear! I think that both interpretations have merit, and hey, they can coexist. We might have them together, then Frank getting scared and calling it off, and then a “third arc” of them wanting to be back together but unable to (yet). Who’s to say! 

ON TO THE JULIE PORTION.

For a while I thought that Julie might be the one to pursue a relationship with Frank - both because of the subconscious influence of her “Role” & that she’s bi while Frank is gay. On surface level she would be the most likely of the two to get the wrong/mixed signals and Go For It.

However. Nothing about this project is surface level. 

I’ve already mentioned that I think Frank is going to try very hard to be something he isn’t. And this is backed by how his relationship with Julie is portrayed (another thank you to Riv for pointing a lot of this out & smacking some sense into me <3) 

Frank is all about rules and matching. Julie is all about improv and independence. Riv pointed out that in “Just So” the audio distorts when Frank is changing bowties and Julie asks if it “really matters”. They also pointed out that, apparently in the Halloween outfit references, Frank’s notes indicate that he’s matching with Julie - but Julie doesn’t have any reciprocating notes. It implies that she was doing her own thing and Frank adjusted himself accordingly. Julie goes along with Frank sometimes, but it seems that it’s usually Frank scrambling to go along with Julie. She’s been described as independent and stubborn. Frank is a bit more of a conforming pushover (no offense Frankie, love ya to bits <3). 

Frank is the straightman to Julie’s… I can’t reference the bios anymore but you know! He might be her straightman in more ways than just “he takes things seriously.” 

And really. Frank likes routine, he likes things to be consistent. He’s been with Julie as her best friend / “partner” for so long that I’m not sure if he can easily break away from that - I think a change as big as getting romantically involved with Eddie would terrify him. It might be thrilling for a moment, but then the fear will set in. 

I thought Julie would be the one clinging to Frank, but it’s the other way around isn’t it? 

Frank gets scared & then leads Julie on because he’s trying to act “normal”, the way that’s expected of him. And it fits. One of WH’s themes is the fear of being shunned for / perceived as different by others. Once they know what you are, will they treat you the same? 

And I don’t think Julie would be entirely opposed, either. I wouldn’t blame her for developing a crush on Frank. I mean, it might turn out that she’s “just going along with it” because she feels the same pressure and fear, but hm… I’m not convinced of that given what we know about her character. But if Julie has a little crush on Frank, I wouldn’t be surprised if when he forces himself to like her & initiates a relationship, she either realizes that it really was just a crush, or she’ll pick up on how Frank doesn’t actually have feelings & act accordingly. This option has more merit in my eyes. I think it would also reflect on the “love” theme of her house - I’ve speculated since pretty much day one that she’ll have an arc around realizing that she doesn’t need a relationship or even really want one at present, going against what Playfellow likely wanted from her. 

(and then I start thinking about the whole livestream trivia thing of Julie maybe falling down a hole or into some abyss… and the concept art of her shoes where she’s standing at the edge of a dark abyss… does she fall, does she jump, or is she pushed? If she winds up being pushed, who does it? Barnaby (milk theory babey!) or perhaps she’ll get in a fight with Frank and in the heat of the moment he accidentally causes her to fall, either by pushing or making her lose awareness of her surroundings (backing off of the edge?). I’m aware that this paragraph is a stretch all around! Don’t take it too seriously! A pinch of salt, people!)

There’s not much else to be said so, in conclusion:

Welcome Home’s storytelling is likely on a nonlinear timeline, Franklydear is established but won’t last, and Frank/Julie is probably going to become a temporary thing

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi!! If it’s okay, can I please request a (Fred lives au) Fred Weasley x Muggle!fem!reader where it takes place after the Wizarding War, and Fred is wandering around Muggle London, needing a break from the repairs him and George are making on their shop (that had been badly damaged during the war), wanting fresh air to clear his head. He hears a woman scream, very clearly in danger, and he goes to help her, ending up saving Y/n in a dark alley, him using his powers to do so. Leaving Y/n shook (and still scared about the situation). He makes the bad guys (who are also muggles) forget about him using magic, and while he wishes he didn’t have to make Y/n forget as well, as she’s currently clinging to him in shock after he saved her, he still makes her forget. They run into each other again the next day, Y/n not remembering anything from the night before, and they have a lot of chemistry and start dating, and all is going well until Y/n finds out about the night he made her forget, about magic and wizards, and Y/n is upset that he lied to her about it all? Especially upset that they had met before and upset that he made her forget at all, and Fred tries to explain why he had to make her forget. George ends up playing “Parent Trap” to get the both of them in the same room to reconcile? With a happy ending?

Hi my love, full disclosure: I didn’t go full parent trap as I have something in the works a little similar so I hope this is okay for you! 🖤

Warnings: Brief mentions of assault and attempted SA but only one scene. I’ve added asterisks before and after so you can skip past it if you want to avoid. Lying, violence, deception, George meddles, Fred is a bit of a simp. Fred calls us sweetheart. POV change after the time skip. muggle!Reader. Bit of heartbreak, a bit of breakup and makeup. One sexual reference at the end.

Word count: 3.7k

Little bit of liberty taken with this one as I’ve written that spouses of wizards and witches can visit Diagon alley (similar to parents of muggle born kids) as lost as they are accompanied by magic users.

Stupefied

London was always rather bleak this time of year, no matter where you went. It seemed there were roadworks and building works happening in nearly every neighbourhood, workers mingling with the tourists that found to get their photographs in between the newly erected cones, temporary walkways and fences.

It seemed that it wasn't only the wizarding world that had suffered, though Fred doubted this actually had anything to do with Voldemort. Arthur had a theory that the juggle prime minister had funded an effort to 'clear up' London whilst Diagon Alley underwent extensive repairs as to not alert the muggles to the work, noise and sudden influx of workmen disappearing through the entrances to the Alley. Looking at the work sites all around him, Fred was inclined to believe his initially mad conspiracy.

Diagon Alley had been near decimated in the war with deatheaters looting, emptying and burning down stores for no apparent reason. Half of the shopping district had been abandoned, left to rot, the owners fleeing or captured and the other half was essentially destroyed. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes had thankfully not fared too badly; it still needed extensive and expensive repairs to the exterior but the inside had been virtually untouched. Fred was eternally thankful of the jinxed he'd put on the premises along with the anti-alohamora charm he'd crafted which had seemed to keep away the deatheaters.

Even though it hadn't fared too badly, he was still exhausted from the repairs. He and George disagreed about what repairs should happen, the priorities and so on, neither if them agreeing if they should improve things or repair them back to the original. Use the full money on repairs or scrimp on the exterior issues and boost for a full restock once they were open. It was a constant battle of wits and opinions, a never ending cycle of unresolved issues and Fred had found that he just had to step out for some fresh air, to clear his head. Discussions around replacing the large figurehead of him and his twin's likeness had been the last straw, pushing him over the edge to the point where he just needed to escape for a bit.

It had fallen dark as he wandered around muggle London, the night time beginning. Due to the building sites and road works littered around, there was virtually no light. Whole clusters of street lamps out of commission with hardly any replacements, leaving this area of London in near darkness. Just as he grumbled to himself about the figurehead, unable to forge it from his mind, a loud, panic filled noise rang out and grabbed his attention. It was a woman screaming, the kind of scream that only happened when you were truly terrified and calling for help.

He knew the sound exactly, having heard it multiple times in the battle. He forced those thoughts out of his head and tried to follow the route that would lead him to where he'd heard the noise, realising he was the only one around to help.

When he ran past a little jitty between two shops, a butchers and a mechanic shop, he froze and retreated upon himself, looking down the dark alley to see a sight that turned his stomach. Three men, all approaching a woman that clearly did not want their company.

*

One was holding her by the throat, pinning her up against the brick wall whilst one's hand began wandering up her leg, pressing something to her throat with the other hand, something that looked silver and sharp, though Fred couldn't exactly see from his place in the shadows of the alley. The third man was just stood there, evidently the lookout, though he was doing a terrible job, choosing instead to watch the woman who was rightfully beside herself in fear.

He couldn't take three men on at once, not if they had muggle weapons. Fred was far from small but he'd never had to truly work with combative skills or fighting as his wand did most the duelling.

It took leas than twenty seconds before he reacted, fuelled by the woman's desperate whimpers as their hands began to wander, all whist threatening her with the blade.

"Stupify!" Fred said clearly but quietly, aiming directly for the third man, the lookout as he hung back in the shadows. The man flew back and hit his head on one of the big bins outback, rendering him unconscious. The man not holding you hostage with the blade turned in shock at what had just happened to his friend, his twisted and demented face turning towards Fred's direction trying to see if anyone was there. When they didn't see anything, both the men looked at each other and gave a disgusting chuckle at their friends expense before turning back to the woman who was still struggling against them.

Fred honestly didn't know if this would work, but he aimed so carefully at the weapon holding arm and cast a quiet 'expelliarmus,' to hopefully disarm the pathetic excuse of a man. It worked, the knife clattering to the floor some distance away as the blokes argued between one another, that they were messing it all up.

"Stupify," he cast once again on the second man who was trying to search for his knife on the ground as he verbally threatened the woman to stay where she was. The man immediately flies back much like his friend, hitting his head on the same dumpster and falling into a slump beside the first one.

The last remaining man looked on in fear, realising he was next. His hand slipped from the woman's neck as he looked upon the slumped bodies of his friends and realised quickly that he was without a weapon.

*

Fred took great pleasure in the full body bind he cast upon the man, rendering his completely still and useless on the floor, as if an invisible net had been cast around him, rendering him useless.

Fred stepped out of the shadows then, not yet replacing his wand as he stepped over to the bound man. He didn't know what had come over him but as he looked at the poor woman who was crying and shaking, he felt rage like never before.

His eyes were filled with pure rage, hateful anger filling his body as the man on the floor noticed him, fear filling his eyes at whatever he had done to him.

Fred pushed aside his anger as he turned to you, throwing his jacket over you and offered some calming words which he hoped would help you even slightly. Suddenly, you threw yourself at him and he accepted you into his arms without any thought, trying to calm your frayed nerves as you clung onto his body.

He aimed his wand at the two men who were mostly unconscious, though the first was beginning to come around with a groggy groan. He knew he didn't have time to get you away before he needed to do this and began obliviating the two slumped men.

He then turned to the third who looked utterly terrified at what Fred had done, unable to talk, move or get away from the mad man with a stick of wood.

"I hope this hurts," Fred says dangerously low as he points his wand directly at the man's head, ensuring the tip of the wood was ever so slightly sticking into the flesh of the man's forehead before he obliviates him.

As soon as it's done, he pockets hits wand and turns to face the woman, wrapping her in his arms as her silent cries lessen. She's so cold, so scared, it makes his heart ache. He was only wearing a work uniform from a local pub, evidently walking back home from her shift and it makes him feel even worse when he realises you were just going about your day, completely oblivious and undeserving.

"It'll be okay, you're safe now I promise," he says soothingly, not wanting to touch her outright after what had so nearly happened but still wanting to give her comfort.

"What, what did you do?" She asks with a sniffle, clearly a little afraid of what had happened.

"Better I don't explain," he says, cursing himself for having no other way of protecting you. "Where do you live? I need to know you get home safely."

When she doesn't reply, he realises his mistake.

"Sorry, it's okay not to tell me, I just want you to be safe. Do you have somewhere to go?"

He feels her nod against his shoulder and exhales the breath he hardly realised he'd been holding. He knows what he has to do but as he looks down at her frightened and rather pretty form clinging so desperately to him, he realises how much he doesn't want to. He wants her to forget what happened with the men, knows she needs to forget what she'd seen him do but the idea that she'd forget all about him made him feel disproportionally sad.

He holds his breath as he slowly pulls out his wand and holds it up towards her back, feeling guilty and wrong about what he's doing as he battles his raging inner monologue.

"Obliviate," he says gently, watching as the blue tendrils of the spell erupt and consume her. He has to be quick, pulling his jacket away from her shoulders and stepping away, walking quickly out of the alley. He doesn't want to leave her, his brain fighting every step that he takes but he can't stay, without an excuse as to why he was there.

He considers watching her as she walks home, checking that she made it back okay but he knows that would look worse. He couldn't have her be scared of him.

When he gets back to the shop, almost completely consumed by worry, he ignores George's rant completely, agreeing to whatever his twin wanted. He hardly sleeps that night, worried for her. He knows it's wrong but she was so pretty, so scared, it's like she'd imprinted onto his brain. Maybe he needed to be obliviated to forget her.

The next morning, he's up bright and early having abandoned any chance of sleeping. He remembers the logo on her work uniform and wants to check that she was alright, hoping that she might be there by now. He knows he can't mention that night, or ever meeting before but he can at least try to calm his mind if he saw her alive and well.

He never even made it into the pub, bumping into you on the way there. He smiled widely when he saw no lasting damage, no trauma and that you hadn't gotten frostbite or pneumonia from your extended time in the alley. In the daylight he realised you were absolutely beautiful and he took full advantage of your 'accidental run in', asking you out on the spot.

You thought it was strange that he didn't have a phone, or any real concept of technology but it all became clear six months into your relationship when he revealed his big secret, that he could use magic.

The conversation was approached with caution, having gathered tips from his siblings and his dad on how to proceed. You'd actually taken it surprisingly well, though if course you were shocked and disbelieving at first. It helped that you'd gotten really close with George and that he'd also assured you that they weren't pulling a prank on you. It all took a while to sink in with Fred slowly opening up more and more about his world. There were things you loved about it, and things that you found odd but that was the nature of growing up so differently. You'd met his family and been in complete amazement at their weird and wonderful home and they had been unbelievably warm and welcoming, making you feel like family already. You'd seen the incredible shop he and his brother had opened and had been amazed by everything in there. You'd moved in together, certain that you were endgame for each other. You saw how everybody in the wizarding world loved them, their inventions and it warmed your heart to know that you'd chosen a good guy.

It all came crashing down when you began talking about how you met, one night in your flat over a bottle of wine on your one year anniversary. Naturally, you assumed that it had been a coincidental run in that morning near your work, a fated moment where you met your soulmate. From that moment you just couldn't stop talking, couldn't be apart. Your relationship moved quickly but it felt right in every way, never giving you reason to puse or think twice. You were certain you'd never seen him before; you'd definitely have remembered his fire red hair, wide shoulders, gorgeous towering height and that beautifully mischievous smile. Fred however, had accidentally let it slip that it hadn't been your first encounter really, his eyes widening in panic when your eyes snapped up to his in utter confusion, realising he had said too much.

You managed to extract the truth from him eventually, the whole truth. He'd saved you, but then wiped your memory. You felt dirty, betrayed.

Knowing that those men had had their hands all over you, of what they wanted to do, it made your stomach roil dangerously until you were throwing up your celebratory anniversary meal. You couldn't look Fred in the eye, the strong sense of betrayal making you want to run away from him, feeling like you couldn't trust him at all. Everything was built on a lie, your entire relationship, the home and the life you'd built together, talks of the future.

You left that night to go back to your parents, scrubbing yourself raw in the shower at just how dirty you felt, how wrong you felt in your own skin. It had been nearly a month and you hadn't seen him once. You'd ignored his letters, thankful that he didn't have a phone because you'd be ignoring that too. You'd taken time off work so he couldn't find you there and had openly avoided any place in London that he might think to look for you- especially avoiding anywhere close to Diagon Alley. He'd come in and changed your life completely, given you hope for a wild and adventure filled future and then spoilt it all.

And the worst part is that you couldn't explain to anyone why. You didn't know a single other magical soul who wasn't directly or indirectly related to Fred and you couldn't exactly explain to your muggle friends and family the exact reason that you'd left him. The questioning from your parents was exhausting, wanting to know what happened between you and that 'sweet boy', your parents already considering him their son in law. But you couldn't say anything and so you remained vague, taking their questioning and opinions on the chin, taking the hit for him.

He saved you that night, you reminded yourself. It wasn't as if he was the one that had done you any harm, he'd actually saved you from getting hurt. Logically you knew that he had to wipe your memory, it was in their statue of secrecy, an unspoken code of conduct for the wizarding world. But still, the lingering feeling of betrayal never went away. Your relationship had been a lie, he had been a lie.

It was a Tuesday afternoon when you received a letter by owl that you'd nearly immediately thrown in the bin until you watched the owl fly away, noticing that it was a different colour to the one Fred usually used. You looked at the letter and noticed that it wasn't his writing but rather a smaller, more cursive font that wasn't as heavily scribbled as his was.

George.

You immediately felt guilty, realising that not only had you left Fred that night but you'd also left George in the dust, abandoning him as well. He wrote to say how much he missed you, that he was sorry and that he didn't know. He asked you to meet him at the leaky cauldron on Friday, if you still wanted to be friends, regardless of his brother.

You began to write back only to realise that you'd sent the owl away, that you'd have no chance of getting the message to him. Your only option was to meet him there Friday.

To say you were nervous was an understatement, trying to blend into the background as you walked through the opening of the cauldron, sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the witches and wizards bustling about inside.

"Y/n!" You heard from the side, a little booth that wrapped around a brick pillar off to the side and you smiled when you saw George waving at you. You walked towards him, feeling a little calmer as he pulled you into a brief hug, asking how you were.

"Oh merlin, I left my wallet in my room," he says with a frown, looking at the staircase.

"Room?"

"Yeah, had to do some repairs to the flat so I've been staying here, bastard twin took the room at mums." You try not to react at the mention of his twin but your eye inadvertently flinches, forcing you to look away.

"It's okay I can get them," you began to say only to be cut off by George as he gives you a knowing smirk.

"Oh yeah, got a load of galleons in that bag?"

"Right, wizard money," you say with a frown, not having even considered that. "I might have some left over in here."

"It's okay, why don't we nip up to my room, it's only up there, be back in two minutes. If I leave you alone they might ask you to leave."

The smile on your face that had been there since reuniting with George disappeared the second you stepped into the room and saw a slightly broader version of George sat on the bed. At first you hoped it was just a mirror but when he turned to glare at his brother, you knew it was Fred instantly.

"Really George?" You said in frustration, turning to see him looking at you with a guilty and almost sad expression.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted you two to talk. I can't take his moping anymore," he says, gesturing towards Fred who still gives a thunderous look towards his brother.

"I told you not to get involved!" Fred says loudly towards his twin, the anger evident in his eyes.

"I missed her too," George argues but it's weak under the venomous glare of his twin. "Fine," he relents, feeling the double glare coming from both your and Fred.

"Just let me," he says slowly before quickly opening the door and closing it behind you. You hear the key turning in the lock and bolt to the door, trying to open it. You look to Fred who appears by your side, banging on the door and trying to pry the handle open but it was unless.

"He's jinxed it," he says in annoyance, turning to look for his wand that was on the table but is longe there. "Git's stolen my wand!"

"There aren't any repairs on the flat are there?" You ask, realising he'd fooled you completely.

"I haven't been back since we," he says, all anger dropping from his tense figure as he looks at you briefly before diverting his eyes.

"I meant at the shop, George's flat," you say, feeling a little awkwardly.

You look up at him in confusion when you hear him snort out a laugh. "That was what he told you?"

"How was I meant to know?" You asked sharply, not liking the laugh he'd given you because you fell for his trick.

"No I didn't mean, never mind." he says quickly, defensively before he breaks off his speech mid sentence, sighing and taking a seat on the bed.

It's painfully awkward as you take a seat at the little desk in the corner, Fred sitting on the bed. The room is small, completely taken up by the wooden four poster bed and it leaves little room for you to avoid each other.

"I," Fred says after a while, breaking the tense silence. "I'm so sorry."

Your eyes slowly trail up to him to see him looking at you with wide and emotion filled eyes. "I should have told you, I should have done more so that you knew but I really thought I was doing the right thing."

"You did."

You watch as his eyes bulge at your words, as soon as they sink it. His wide eyes suddenly merge to a look of confusion as he ponders your reply.

"You did do the right thing, at least for the wizarding community. A muggle saw what happened, you had to fix that," you say quietly with a little shrug, looking away from him. "I understand why; I just hate that you hid it from me for so long."

"I know," he replies, "there was just never a right time. I couldn't tell you until you knew about me but by then I was already so in love with you that I couldn't risk losing you so I kept quiet."

You can feel his gaze on you but you don't look at him, worried that if you looked at him now your heart would break all over again. You never expected love to be so complicated, never knew that with great love came great heartbreak.

“I miss you sweetheart.”

Those four simple words broke your resolve completely, shattering whatever resentment you were holding on to completely.

You finally look at him, really look and you can see that he looks tormented, like he’s not been sleeping right. You miss him too; you want your old life back, where you were happy together.

“No more lies,” you say, fixing him with a soft but meaningful glance, laying out your terms.

“No more lies,” he agrees, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips as he watches you slowly stand and make your way over to him, the past forgiven and forgotten.

When George enters the room an hour later, checking on the progress and to see that you were both still alive, he sees a lot more than he bargained for… and certainly more of Fred’s arse than he ever wanted to see.

[pavlovianfuckery]

throw me down the stairs but sexually

MASTERLIST

linky for more AO3-ly inclined: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41618595

1.9k of just indulging dreams shitty little power fantasy so he'll feel better because why not

he's not so tough but nobody tell him ok

When your usually gentle lover had brought the request to you, it had taken you by surprise. He was always so considerate, rarely asking anything for himself, and the nature of the request itself gave you pause. You had given up control to him before with no hesitation, but this would be different.

"This will not be gentle. This will not be tender. This will break you," he'd cautioned you, wanting you to be sure what you were agreeing to. The thought of refusing never crossed your mind, not really. You'd seen the cold fury he'd directed at those who had wronged him before, and you couldn't deny the illicit thrill it had brought you. The thought of even a sliver of that being directed at you, even as make-believe, made your stomach twist. His parting words echo in your mind even now. "I do not wish to truly harm you," he had said, covering your hands with his. "Should you at any point need me to stop, simply call out the word "nightmare" and it will end, no questions asked." But that was days ago. After he'd left you had paced your quarters, equal parts aroused and afraid. Not knowing when it would happen compounded the feeling until you felt like you were walking on eggshells, ever vigilant of an encounter that never seemed to come.

Sprawled across the throne irreverently you admire the huge windows, trying to distract yourself from your racing thoughts, doing your best not to fidget.  "What exactly do you think you are doing?"  Not hearing him come in you startle badly, nearly falling from your perch with an undignified yelp.  "Christ! Don't sneak up on me like that!" You feel a bit silly, but won't let that deter you as you blink at him, feigning ignorance. "I'm allowed to sit, aren't I?" "Get down from there or I will remove you," he warns, tone venomous as he glares down at you. "Or what?" You cross your arms defiantly, chin high. "Not like you could do anything. This is just a dream, nothing here is real anyway." Not deigning to respond, he simply clamps his hand across the back of your neck and gives it a warning squeeze. "Move." Glaring at him you do something potentially stupid and swing at him. Despite missing quite badly it goads him on, and before you know it he has you on the floor in an undignified heap at his feet. Squirming experimentally, you try to get up, but he doesn't let you. Instead, you feel the weight of his boot settle on your back, keeping you down as lust coils low in your belly. "Does this feel real to you, little mortal?" He hums thoughtfully, watching you wriggle and swear, adjusting his stance until his other boot is in front of your face. "Maybe this is where you truly belong, at my feet." He nudges your cheek with the tip of his boot, smirking slightly as you flinch away. "You should put that foul mouth to better use." "You can't be serious!" You start struggling in earnest, indignant. "Do not doubt that I can make you do it, because I will."

The faint taste of boot polish is acrid in your mouth. Thankfully the task is a fairly short one even though he makes you do both of them, not letting you stop until the smooth leather is shining with saliva. He yanks you roughly to your knees by the back of the neck, with no regard for your comfort, making you splutter.

"I suppose that was a passable effort," he rasps, and despite the almost bored-sounding delivery, you can tell that he's enjoying watching you debase yourself. Dragging you to your feet he pushes you up against the cold stone of the throne, your struggling no match for his sinewy strength, maneuvering you with ease until you're bent over the armrest. The sharp stab of arousal at the rough treatment almost makes you feel sick. He grinds up against you, his growing erection pressing into your backside. "How about this, is this real enough for you?" Not bothering to wait for a response he simply rucks your dress up, the fabric bunching around your waist. Not giving up that easily you fight against him until he simply twists one of your arms behind your back, making your shoulder twinge uncomfortably.

"You humans are all the same," he sneers, holding you down, "not one of you realizing how little you truly matter." Straining against his grip your breaths echo in the empty hall as he grinds himself against you, nearly driving you onto the tips of your toes. "Tell me, what purpose could you possibly serve, if not this?" "Let me go!" Surprisingly he's actually got you working up a bit of a sweat now, and you don't bother holding back from yelling. After one last attempt of wrenching yourself free fails, you do the only thing you can think of.

The kick doesn't really connect, glancing off his leg, but it catches him off guard, making him loosen his grip just enough for you to wiggle loose. You bolt in the direction of the stairs, fully intending to make him chase you, but he manages to grab the hem of your dress, making you stumble and fall, pulling him down with you. Thankfully you only roll down a handful of steps, but it still knocks the breath out of you. Somehow he landed further down and you see your chance to get away, scrambling back towards the top ungracefully on your hands and knees. Too slow. He grabs hold of your leg, hand around your ankle like a snare, unyielding. Satisfied that he's caught you he wastes no time crawling over you until you're trapped between him and the stairs. Caged by his arms, his coat covers you both like a shroud, its warmth almost oppressive. Your final attempt to get away is half-hearted at best and he simply presses you down with his whole body, making the marble dig into your ribs nearly to the point of bruising.

"Why do you fight me?" The softness of his lips against the side of your face is almost making you forget all about your little game as he pulls your now torn dress out of the way. "It will not save you." Still struggling to catch your breath you don't hear him undo his fly, but you certainly feel it as he spreads your wetness around with the tip of his cock. He teases you mercilessly until you all but melt into him, angling your hips to try and get him inside you faster, but to no avail. He doesn't acknowledge your frustrated little whines until you think you might actually start crying. When he speaks, his breath is warm against your ear, his words making you tremble. "Ask for it. Beg your king to make it hurt." "Don't be gentle." It barely sounds like you, it's too quiet and the words hang in the air, dripping desperation, but you don't even care anymore. "Please don't be gentle. I want to feel you even after I wake up."

You're not sure if that's what he wanted to hear, but it seems to be enough. He thrusts into you, making you howl incoherently as he bottoms out in one merciless stroke. It's raw and hot and so damn good, the sheer ruthlessness of it making your mind go fuzzy at the edges. Not letting you rest for even a moment, he trails his hand up your exposed neck before grabbing your chin firmly, forcing you to look right at the empty throne as he takes you. "Never forget," his usually smooth voice is almost reduced to a snarl as he pushes into you again and again, "that you are beneath me." His words might have hurt you at some other point in time, but by now you're too far gone. You try snaking a hand down to touch yourself as the sharp pleasure coils tighter inside of you, all it would take is just a tiny nudge... And he grabs your wrist, pulling your hand back up and pinning it down at shoulder level, his grip like iron as you can't help but mewl in frustration.

"You think you deserve to come?" He slams into you so hard that black spots float across your vision, making you wince as pain briefly overrides pleasure, pulling you back from the brink. "You will come like this or not at all," His tone leaves no room for bargaining as he drives into you, angling himself just so, leaving your walls fluttering around him as you teeter right on the edge. What eventually pushes you over is the brush of his lips against the side of your neck, tongue darting out to lap at the droplets of sweat there, tasting you.

The intensity of it leaves you mute, barely able to breathe, and you almost do buck him off of you this time without even meaning to. As you tighten around him it's his turn to moan, barely able to keep himself from spending right then and there, self-control hanging by the thinnest thread. He manages to hold back though, not letting you off easy, giving you what feels like only a few short moments of respite. "Again." You briefly panic. You can't, it's too much, there is just no way. But your entire world is reduced to the way he feels inside you, hitting every sweet spot with inhuman focus, possessing you utterly. It's almost painful and you can't get enough, if he could crawl under your fucking skin you'd let him, and oh.  As violent and sudden as your last orgasm was this one is slow and dragged out. It feels like it might never end as he fucks you through it, his pace soon faltering as he pushes as deep as he can go, spilling into you with an almost broken sound.

When you finally catch your breath and manage to mostly stop shaking, he folds the dreamscape around you both until you're in his bed, the softness of it a welcome balm after the hard stone of the stairs. Cradling you in his arms like the most precious of treasures, he holds you to his chest, neither of you entirely sure what to say so you simply lay there together, breathing in each other. Eventually, uncertainty gets the better of you, breaking the silence. "Was I...did I do alright?" Despite everything, you're unable to keep worry out of your voice. "I hope I didn't disappoint you." "You did very well," He assures you, covering your face in the tenderest kisses, "This exercise has been...cathartic. You really are too good to me, my love."  Brushing away the tears you hadn't even noticed falling, he goes on, "I can only hope that this has not made you doubt my feelings for you. After all, that was never my intention." His words assuage any fears you might have had as exhaustion creeps in, making your eyelids droop. You burrow into his chest, needing to be closer to him in every way you can. "Would you please just...hold me? Until I wake up?" He does, letting you cling to him until morning arrives and you slip back into the waking world, to your own empty bed.

[autisticlancemcclain]

Lance sighs. “Dude, this isn’t going to work if you’re awkward about it.”

“I’m not being awkward,” Keith says, lying like a liar. He crosses his arms, setting his jaw like the stubborn ass he is. “I’m being normal.”

“Right,” Lance says, raising an eyebrow. “That’s why you keep looking at me and getting all flustered and looking away again. That’s certainly going to sell it for us.”

“It’s going to be fine! I’m not being awkward. You’re being picky.”

“Keith, the Ernlea are not going to believe that I’m your concubine if you go redder than a virgin every time you look at me. Come on, dude. You have to make it at least a little believable.”

Keith goes bright red. “I’m not a virgin! And don’t — it’s believable!”

Lance grins, brown eyes narrowed and teasing. “Could’ve fooled me.” He pulls at the red lace top (lingerie. It’s lingerie) and adjusts the see-through gauze harem pants the Ernlea attendants have set out for him to wear to the audience with the queen. “What, am I distracting you?”

“They didn’t even get you a sweater or anything. You’re going to freeze,” Keith says instead of answering, pointedly looking at Lance’s face and face alone. “It’s — it’s ridiculous. They gave me three shirts to choose from, and each of them goes to my wrist.”

“Because the queen thinks I’m your concubine,” Lance explains patiently. Again. “And this makes her trust you more, remember? You just have to play it off for the next couple hours. If they find out I’m not actually your concubine, they’ll feel all scorned, and then we’ll be in real trouble.”

“It’s disrespectful,” Keith insists.

Lance inclines his head. “A little.”

“Why are you so fine with it, then?”

“Because I don’t care what this queen thinks, Keith. I care what you think. I care what the team thinks. I care what my mom thinks. But this random queen who we’re going to meet for two hours and then maybe see again, like, twice in our lives? She can think whatever the hell she wants of it’ll get her signature on the Coalition papers. She has four thousand fleets to offer us, Red. I’d pretend to be the team’s jester if that’s what she fuckin’ wanted. That one might hurt my feelings, though. The concubine thing is hilarious. She thinks I’m too pretty to be a soldier. That is a compliment to the highest degree.”

“Yeah, well, it’s still dumb,” Keith mutters petulantly. “And I hate it and her.”

Lance tilts his head. He stares at Keith for a few moments, scrutinizing him. Keith shifts uncomfortably. He hates it when Lance tries to beam through his skull and read his thoughts.

(It’s very annoying, because he often sees right through Keith’s shit, and how dare he do that? Who gave him permission?)

Finally, Lance snaps his fingers, eyes bright with an idea.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Keith exclaims, startling. “No!”

“Yes. Kiss me. It’ll make it less awkward, give us more chemistry.”

“No! That’s not going to — no!”

“Kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me kiss me —”

“No! I’m not going to do it like this!”

“Kiss me kiss me —” Lance blinks, cutting himself off. “What does that mean?”

Keith clamps his mouth shut. “Nevermind.”

“No, no, tell me. What do you mean, ‘not like this’?”

“Nothing. I didn’t — it didn’t mean anything. I just mean I’m not kissing you.” Keith glances down at his wrist, face burning. “We’ve got to — we’re almost late. Let’s go.” He hurries for the door, brushing by Lance and speedwalking away.

“Keith, you’re not wearing a watch! Hey! Wait for your concubine, you douchebag! God, what kind of leader doesn’t wait for his concubine?”

———

“Good job, team,” Shiro says, smiling softly at them. “The queen signed. Lance and Keith — good job on you two, specifically. I don’t know why she needed you two to play couple so badly, but you rolled with it, and I’m proud of you.”

“I’m just that pretty,” Lance preens, just as Keith mutters: “Define ‘rolled with it’.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Oh, you big baby. So what I had to sit on your lap? I’m not that heavy.”

Keith harrumphs. “Whatever. I still don’t understand why she was so convinced that we’re — a thing, or whatever.”

“Maybe because on that call with her, after we saved her planet, you looked at Lance with the softest look in the world and said you ‘couldn’t have done it without your right hand man’?” Pidge suggests.

“Fuck right off,” Keith says hotly, ears going red as the rest of the team giggles. Only Lance is on Keith’s side, looking at Pidge in confusion.

“He says that all the time. How was that weird?” he asks.

Pidge stops laughing abruptly, blinking at him in shock. “You’re — you’re fucking with me, right?”

Lance continues to look at her oddly. Pidge exchanges a look with Hunk and Allura, and all three of them sigh.

“Alright, guys,” Shiro says, clapping their hands to get back their attention. His mouth is twitching. “I can tell you’re all done for today. Good job, again. Wind down for the evening, meet me in the common room at nine if you want to watch a movie. I think it’s Coran’s turn to pick — he said something about a home movie?”

He dismisses them to loud, half-playful groaning.

“Those are so embarrassing,” Allura complains.

“The embarrassment is the best part,” Hunk argues, because if nothing else then he lives for drama. “The issue is the length.”

“Nuh-uh. The issue is the camera quality! It’s, like, one pixel!”

Keith takes the opportunity to slip away as the team argues, walking quietly back to his room. Today was a — day, that’s for sure. He might skip movie night, just because Lance always sits next to him at movie night, and if he has to spend any longer pressed close to Lance and smelling his floral shampoo he might collapse into nothing.

“Hey, Keith, wait up.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. Who is writing his life? When are they going to give him a fucking break?

“Hey, Lance,” Keith says, trying to keep the weariness out of his voice. It doesn’t work, but luckily Lance doesn’t think it’s about him.

Lance grins wryly. “All that politics wear you out, Oh Introvert Of All Introverts?”

Keith huffs a laugh. He is so grateful that for all Lance’s observational skills, sometimes he’s as dense as a brick wall.

“Something like that.”

“You gonna skip movie night, then?”

“Yeah. I need to sleep and contemplate what I did to deserve this life.”

Lance laughs, bright and high-pitched, and Keith has to physically fight the besotted smile that’s begging to force itself on his face.

Fuck. Why can’t he go back to being annoyed by that sound? Huh? This whole whipped-for-Lance business is getting out of hand.

“Dork. I’ll walk you to your room, then. Gotta get my Keith fill of the day.”

Keith firmly tells his brain to shut the fuck up and not make the dirty joke it wants to make. Lance is a horrible influence on him. He never used to make that’s-what-she-said jokes before they started hanging out, and now his brain thinks them on reflex.

“I think past you would shoot you in the head if he heard you say that.”

“You got me,” Lance teases back, grinning. They come to a stop at Keith’s door, and his smile gets softer around the edges. He looks up at Keith, and squints, because one of the sunlight-simulator lights is on right behind Keith’s head, shining right into his eyes. It makes the brown in his irises glow into something almost amber, like drizzled honey.

“Night, Fearless Leader.”

Keith can barely make his tongue work, mouth suddenly drier than the desert.

“Night, Lance.”

Lance reaches out and pats Keith’s bicep, turning slightly and stepping away. And Keith —

Something in Keith goes absolutely rigid, and then snaps.

He grabs Lance’s forearm, pulling him back towards Keith, then leans down and presses their mouths together so hard their teeth clank. His other hand cups Lance face, tilting it so their noses aren’t smushed together.

For a split second, Lance is tense, unmoving. Then he lets out the faintest “oh” noise, like it’s involuntary, like it came up from his chest without his permission. And then, faster than Keith can register, he moves his arm from Keith’s grip and wraps both of them around Keith’s shoulders, yanking him closer and kissing him harder. Keith curls his newly freed hand around Lance’s waist, squeezing tightly as he tilts his head again and opens his mouth to lick against the seam of Lance’s lips. He responds immediately, gasping on his next breath as Keith runs his tongue along Lance’s teeth, the roof of his mouth, just — anywhere he can reach. Tasting him. Devouring him.

Keith pulls back with a shuddering sigh, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on Lance’s. Lance’s hand shakes slightly from it’s place on the back of Keith’s neck, fingers smoothing out constant motions on the heated skin. He’s panting. He’s close enough that Keith can smell that damn floral shampoo, sweet and soft and intoxicating. He presses another kiss to Lance’s lips, close-mouthed and soft, because the scent makes him heady.

“I meant something like that,” he whispers. When he opens his eyes again, Lance’s are still closed, and his chest moves rapidly as he pants. Keith takes another moment to burn the image of Lance’s flushed face and wet mouth into his memory.

“Goodnight, Lance.” Carefully he pulls away, slipping into his room and closing the door behind him. He gets ready for bed without letting himself think of anything, just forcing his mind to be blank. When he finally crawls under the covers and shoves his pillow over his head, he realizes that the hand that was cradling Lance’s head still smells like him.

———

Outside Keith’s door, Lance is standing, frozen, brown eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Slowly, he brings his hand up to his lips, letting his head sag forward.

A small smile upturns the corners of his mouth.

———

based off this video