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citrustan · 11 months

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for what it's worth [3/4] (jjk)

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: angst, fluff, light smut, college student!reader x crush!jungkook

summary: you make an awful revelation about your crush of two years.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: some bitchiness (or like justice? idk it's up to you really)

note: yes. there is a chapter 4 because i'm not ready to let go of this just yet. and a thank you.

1 - 2 - 3 - 4

Two weeks passed by and you and Jia pretended as if absolutely nothing happened. It was simply the quiet before the storm.

Your days seemed to blend into nights, you felt yourself slipping into a bad place mentally. Always feeling distant and fatigued.

The emotional turmoil of having your trust broken and your privacy invaded caused you to miss out on much needed sleep.

While on the outside, everything seemed pretty much the usual except for a few painfully obvious differences.

You had stopped (publicly) obsessing over Jungkook, and it initially invited a lot of concern from Yoongi and Namjoon. But they didn’t push you too much when you blatantly ignored their questions about him. You also avoided Jia as much as you could. She didn’t seem to have noticed.

Despite your crush on Jungkook, you had come to accept the boundaries of your non-friendship with him and the fact that he was deeply committed to Jia.

You had no intention of causing any harm to their relationship, as you had already shared your support with Jungkook for their secret.

It was difficult to not think of them. It often made you break into tears of anger and frustration. You had to mourn your loss.

Every night, thoughts of Jungkook would continue to consume you. You’d still imagine him to be yours. Images of him smiling at you and his voice calling you cute would linger in your mind.

It’s just pretend. There’s no harm in it.

You knew that Jia had described you as a ‘creep’ to Jungkook, but the label bothered you. You were not a creep, and you wanted to understand why Jia had portrayed you that way. No matter what you came up with in your head, nothing was a good enough reason to call you such a gross name. Sure, she hadn’t revealed to Jungkook your identity but that baffled you more.

Also, had Jungkook never wondered about this ‘creep’?

Too many things kept you up at night and you couldn’t stand being on the other side of the truth. You could no longer afford to let these things bother you. You were too fucking old for this shit.

With the final week before your course evaluations being right around the corner, you had subconsciously come to some harsh unanimous decisions. They weren’t impulsive or unreasonable. You really had thought this through. These decisions may be a risky, or bitchy, or just as sneaky as Jia was, but they’d still be within reason.

He needed to know the truth about you, Jia, and what she told him.

You wanted to tell Jia that you knew about them. It probably wasn’t going to come out of Jungkook, so it had to be you.

Why must you continue to suffer?

You didn’t want to wait around and anticipate Jia’s next move.

You’re not the type of person who sits around and ignores things like these. You had held it in for a while now.

You understood that your actions would have consequences and you were more than ready to face them. You hoped.

While you pretended nothing ever happened, Jia and you saw way less of each other.

You could count the times you interacted, or even passed by, or saw each other over the weeks on one hand.

Still, every time you’d think about your interaction with Jungkook, you were reminded of Jia too. Him and Jia. You couldn't help but notice his annoyingly deep feelings for Jia. He was so… considerate of her. It probably is just the bare minimum but it doesn’t matter. You could tell he was a great boyfriend to her. No wonder she kept him hidden.

Sometimes, it felt so wrong and scandalous to fantasize about the man. Maybe it even is so. But you weren’t just infatuated with Jungkook. You really liked him. Emotions like these don’t disappear overnight.

You longed to be loved and held by him too.

The campus shuttle came to an abrupt halt, indicating that it was the last stop. You had missed yours.

As the semester continued, Jungkook found himself missing the moments he had shared with you before everything became so complicated. Jia completely stopped mentioning you. Whenever he’d ask, she’d pout and demand his attention to be back on her. While he’d give into her, you still remained in the back of his mind.

It was late in the evening, and Jungkook had decided to take a break from his hectic study schedule, opting to go for a walk around his dorm on campus.

As he neared the drop-off point for the shuttle, he couldn't help but think about you, remembering the first time you had met at a bus stand.

He stood there, lost in thought, when he suddenly saw a figure leaning against the street light.

An involuntary smile crossed his face as he couldn't believe the coincidence.

"_____, is that you?" Jungkook called out, waving to get your attention. He jogs to where you now stood upright.

You turned towards him, your eyes widening in surprise as you recognized him. "Jungkook? What are you doing here?"

He chuckled and motioned to the bus station. "Well, it seems like the bus stands are our special spot. I thought I'd take a break and enjoy the nostalgia."

You let out a mix of a sigh and an awkward laugh, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and uncertainty. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Jungkook nodded, and he noticed the hesitation in your eyes. "Would you like to grab some dinner? We can catch up?"

You were caught off-guard.

"Right now? It's not late enough for dinner." You attempt to find an excuse.

"Sure it is. There's a new Chinese fusion restaurant right off the road outside." Jungkook urged.

"Fusion? What is it fused with?" You wondered.

Jungkook paused. "I... Actually don't know. Want to find out?" He smiled, invitingly.

Not used to the attention he was giving you just now, you found it difficult to tell him 'no'.

Especially when you really wanted to 'catch up' with him.

So, you reluctantly agreed, and the two of you were headed to the nearby restaurant.

Jungkook smiled back at you as he led the way, "Do you want me to hold your hand? It looks heavy."

WHAT?

Your mouth slightly parted open.

Oh, my god? What was his deal?

You're malfunctioning.

"No. I'd rather not..." You hesitantly refuse. Jungkook slows down to let to catch up to him. "Are you sure? You look like you've been carrying that around for a while. And, I really wouldn't mind it."

More confused than ever, "Well, it is attached to me. I'm okay."

"Well, un-attach it! I'll hold it for you." Jungkook's hands graze your shoulder.

Your brows furrow. Finally, you just ask him. "What?"

"Let me hold your bag. Unbuckle, un-attach, relax." Jungkook blabbered as he switched positions to walk behind you, gently taking your backpack off your shoulders.

Oh.

Oh, no. Did you really think he was asking to hold your hand? Really now?

You big dummy with a capital 'D'.

You sigh. "Okay. Thanks, but let me just-" You cut yourself off by unzipping your backpack and pulling out a white sweater with pearls for buttons.

The two of you pause mid-way so you can comfortably wear your sweater. The temperature was dropping my the hour.

Although you don't have your matching mittens and earmuffs, it should be fine.

"That's pretty, _____." Jungkook complimented you.

"Where'd you get that?" He asked, thinking about how much Jia would like this kind of clothing.

You shyly blush and look down at your glossy, red pointed toe heels, "Thanks. I made it myself with the yarn my mother spun for me."

Jungkook looked genuinely impressed. "No way. That's got to be worth a lot then."

You stared up at him with big eyes. Nobody had ever said such sweet things to you.

(That's a lie. Your other friends have always praised your clothes and outfits. But this is different, so it's ok!)

You wordlessly, softly smile at him. Jungkook stares back at you.

Suddenly, his expression changes. His eyes grow big and his mouth forms a smile, "Ah! Could I commission you to make something just like that for Jia? She loves stuff like that!"

And just like that, your heart shattered. Again.

Your kind smile turned into a forced one. "Maybe if I have time."

You noted that he didn't demand or suggest you to make a sweater for Jia, but rather requested it and offered to compensate for it. That just tells you more about how considerate and present he is.

Every time you've talked to people about your handmade clothes, they'd beg you to make them one or jokingly ask about it so that if you do end up making something for them, they wouldn't have to pay you for your efforts. This doesn't include your friends, obviously. And, even if your friends were to act this way, you'd gladly gift them your handiwork.

Well, even though he's somewhat of a stranger to you, if Jungkook ever asked you for something, you'd probably just do it for him too. No questions asked.

Jungkook asked you about your day and your classes. And, you him.

As you were walking on the snow covered sidewalk, you mentally cuss yourself out for picking these shoes. Not only were your feet partially frozen and numb, but also you were ruining very expensive shoes.

"Oh! Puddle, watch out." Jungkook swiftly skipped over a puddle of water that horizontally covered a significant portion of the walkway from one end to the other.

You watched him regain his footing and turn back to you.

Does he expect you to leap like that? Your legs aren't as long as his! But, you don't gave a choice.

You can't step in it, it could very well be a hole of icy water. That'd be risking a potential amputation.

You can't walk around it because there's nowhere to go. And, you can't switch to walking on the road because, well it's dangerous, and there's a metal partition placed specifically to avoid mixing people on wheels and people on foot.

Jungkook puts his hand out for you to grab.

"Just put one foot out to this side and I'll pull you up. Don't worry! I've always done this with Jia." He mentions Jia, hoping to reassure you that he wouldn't let you slip.

All it does is make you more uneasy. Just the thought of Jia. It has an odd effect on you. Your body feels colder. You shudder briefly.

Your only goal now is to get past this stupid puddle without humiliating yourself. You realize that delaying this makes you look more cowardly, hence humiliating you.

So, you grab hold of Jungkook's surprisingly warm hand. Not going to lie, you faked some uncertainty just so you could keep holding his hand.

Someone has got to get you in check.

Jungkook urged you to trust him yet again. His stance showed he was prepared to pull you through.

You lift your left foot and somehow land it on the other side of the puddle. Not even a second after, Jungkook roughly pulls you to him with all his strength.

Not expecting this amount of force, you clumsily collide into his chest, immediately wrapping your arms around his torso to avoid falling back into the very puddle you were trying to get across from.

Jungkook reciprocates by circling his arms around your shoulders and head.

How you wished he held you elsewhere, but he was so respectful.

Everything happened so quickly.

Embarrassed, your breath hitched and you suddenly pushed him to the side.

"Sorry." You whisper. You don't know if he could even hear you.

You fix your sweater and continue staring at your feet, eyeing the little droplets of water on your pants.

Your tummy and nether regions were blazing fire and you felt your nipples slowly hardening. You clench your hands into fists, desperately praying nothing is visible. I mean, you were wearing white.

You wanted so badly for Jungkook to reach out, just stick his hand up your top and soothe your pretty, sensitive nips. Your breathing has become unstable for a few seconds.

You should be beaten up for having these thoughts about a taken man.

Jungkook suddenly places his hand on your arm, making you jolt. "We're close. Look, it's there." He smiles and points to the establishment.

"Great. I'm so cold." You try to play it off, just in case he noticed something.

You then cover your chest by flipping your hair back over it.

This time, he let you walk ahead of him.

On reaching the restaurant, Jungkook skipped ahead of you and pulled the door open for you. "After you." He smiled, goofily.

You blush and instantly shake it off, "Why, thank you. My fragile hands could never."

Jungkook and you were immediately hit by the warmth and coziness of the home style, Chinese fusion restaurant.

"Huh. This is not at all what I expected." Jungkook looked around, pleased with himself.

You replicated that action.

The restaurant was designed to replicate someone's home, or garage. It had unique tables and chairs. No two items were the same. Even most of cutlery was different.

You appreciated the dedication to this concept.

"Good evening! Table for two?" A very familiar voice interrupted you.

Your head abruptly turned towards the direction of the voice.

"Joon!" You exclaimed, rushing over to throwing yourself into his personal space.

Surprised by your sudden enthusiasm, Jungkook raised a brow. This was the most chipper he'd ever seen you.

Jungkook and Namjoon knew each other.

Other than from your constant yapping, Namjoon knew of Jungkook because Jungkook was actively trying to pursue Namjoon, pleading for him to be Jungkook's musical mentor. However, Namjoon wouldn't budge.

Namjoon instantaneously engulfs your whole body with his arms, rubbing your back.

When Namjoon clearly looked at the man stood behind you, his eyes widened.

No way.

Is this why you went off-grid? Had you finally managed to bag Jeon Jungkook? Namjoon was too stunned to move.

Namjoon was just about to ask you about it when Jungkook speaks instead. "Table for two is right. Thanks."

You let go off Namjoon, confirming Jungkook's words.

Whatever. Namjoon will be blowing your phone up later either way. So, he decided to let you off the hook for the rest of the evening.

Namjoon cheekily smiles at the two of you as he leads you into an isolated booth.

It was a space behind some beaded curtains, giving the illusion of the space being more private.

The table was relatively smaller and surrounding it were three chairs; two regular wooden ones with soft cushions, and one loveseat.

Then, Namjoon abruptly left.

You didn't realize what Namjoon was doing until he returned with two menus and something that looked like a candle and a lighter.

Oh, no.

No. This was NOT happening.

You frown and awkwardly wait for him to set the table up and leave.

What? There's nothing you can do or say without overreacting! It's not like you WANT to wine and dine your friend's boyfriend.

(You totally do, but you would not pull something like that purposely.)

Jungkook seemed to just go with the flow, unbothered.

You promptly sat yourself on one of the wooden chairs and Jungkook opted to sit on the comfortable loveseat.

"So, how do you know Namjoon?" Jungkook wasted no time.

"We've been friends for a while." You continue, "Jia too. She knows him."

At that, Jungkook raises a brow. Jia knows Namjoon? Jungkook has mentioned Namjoon many times before. Jia never indicated that she knew him.

Still, he brushed it off.

"How do you know him?" You ask.

"Oh, he's like rhythm and poetry royalty. I've been sending this man emails for months begging him to mentor me... I can't believe Jia- It's so weird, finally seeing the guy who kept rejecting me." He cut himself off towards the end.

He can't believe Jia WHAT? Tell me. PLEASE.

You painstakingly push your annoyance away.

Instead you laugh, "I had no idea he was being pursued by students, wow."

"Yeah..." Jungkook giggled, somewhat embarrassed.

As the evening went on, you talked quite a bit. If he noticed, he didn't mind your awkwardness.

As if you were suddenly remembering something, you hummed. "I take it you didn't tell Jia about the... thing?" You struggled to find the right words to describe it.

Jungkook slowly nodded and repeated, "The... Thing."

"Yeah. You know, about you guys? Dating?" You press your legs together, a little anxious.

"Oh! Right!" He smiled in realization, "I actually did end up telling her about it that same night." He nodded, this time, positively.

You froze and your face dropped.

Had you been drinking something at that moment, you'd have spat that out. If you were eating at that moment, you'd have dropped your utensils on the floor.

"And then we talked about you for a while. I told her you gave me your word. I mean, I'm sure she already told you..." He continued.

Jia. She knows you know.

"Because she panicked..." Jungkook kept talking but at that point you had tuned him out.

Your mouth involuntarily formed a sad pout. Your eyes which were drying out from tiredness, slowly began to fill up with tears of... frustration, and anger, and confusion.

She knew.

She didn't even try to talk to you.

You assumed she was just busy.

But, she was actually just avoiding you. Just as you her.

Your eyes were glazed over.

The humiliation, guilt, anger and paranoia set in all at once.

Does this mean... Jungkook knows? Is he toying with you?

No. That's far-fetched. Way off. He'd never do that. He was so nice to you all night.

But, he IS a nice guy. Why wouldn't he be nice?

You're starting to make less sense now.

You don't even blink because if you do, your tears won't hold themselves back.

Jia fucking knew and avoided you on purpose. She couldn't face you. She fucking betray you, and she couldn't handle it. She didn't want to face it.

Jungkook sensed that there was something on your mind. "_____, is something wrong? Should I not have told her? What's going on?" He asked, his curiosity piqued.

You hesitated for a moment. You weren't used to being impulsive. That was never you. But, lately, that streak was becoming increasingly steady.

So, you decided to open up. Like an idiot.

"It's me."

Jungkook nervously smiled, "It's you?"

"The 'creep' with the schoolgirl crush." You added.

Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned in, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity. "You? But... I don't understand."

He shook his head and stared at you, expecting you to keep going.

Great job, idiot.

You didn't have a choice now.

You took a deep breath and began to explain, "I had a crush on you, Jungkook. I have a crush on you. I've never been silent about it." You winced.

The tears. They're coming.

"I mean, I've never been silent about it with my friends. Including Jia."

The knot forming in your throat felt tighter.

Jungkook listened carefully, trying to make sense of this... revelation. "So, it was all a misunderstanding? There was never a 'creep'?" He reasoned.

You kept your eyes trained down at your lap, more embarrassed than ever. "I... No? I don't know." Your eyes were heavy with tears. Your nose began to sting.

You pressed your lips together to hold all the ugly sobs in, and squeezed your eyes shut.

"_____?" Jungkook questioned worriedly.

You furrowed your brows and frantically shook your head, "Jia. Everyone, my friends, everyone knew about it- that I liked you. From the day we met. The- it was like a mixer?" You slouch and let your arms fall to your sides, "I can't remember. I've liked you for so long..." You trail off silently shedding tears.

You inhale before letting out a little squeaky apology.

Jungkook only looks at you. He doesn't understand, or register anything.

"_____..." Jungkook begins.

"I didn't know Jia was your girlfriend. I'd always talk to her about you, and how good you looked on whatever, whenever- and how you, and then she..." Your shoulders begin to shake towards the end of your sentence. You fully began to cry.

Thank goodness you were separated from the rest of the restaurant-goers.

You were clearly unable to hold a conversation.

You wanted to bang your head on the table. Repeatedly.

Jungkook's brows almost touched his hairline.

"I'M the 'creep' she told you about. I'm the reason for... But I didn't know. I SWEAR. Until you told me. I knew then." You sniffle every two seconds. "I was going to tell you how I felt but then you- I'm sorry!" You finally broke down, sobbing into your hands.

"Hey. Just... breathe, okay?" You felt Jungkook shimmy out of his seat and back away from the table. He then walks over to you.

You already knew tomorrow's _____ was going to kill herself.

Jungkook pours you a glass of water.

He has no idea what to tell you.

He can't find the words to even begin to describe what he's feeling right now.

Jungkook's brain had stopped generating new thoughts. All he's thinking about is the crying girl in front of him, half-heartedly confessing her feelings for him.

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair. Then he looked down at you.

You are whom his girlfriend was worried about?

The same girl whom he hadn't stopped thinking about the past weeks.

The same girl who's his girlfriend's friend. His girlfriend.

His girlfriend who lied- hid things from him.

Had you planned this? Was Jia right to hide him away?

Jungkook really doesn't know what to think.

Jungkook needed to leave. He felt suffocated.

"_____, I'm sorry for the way things turned out. I... wish I had known the truth earlier." Jungkook solemnly spoke.

He hoped you believed him. He can't tell if you're in the right frame of mind to talk. He knows he sure isn't.

You sniffle harder, still appreciating his understanding. "I honestly just wanted to clear the air and be honestly honest with you...." You sigh deeply, speaking shakily. "I just thought... Maybe Jia would talk to me herself. And when she didn't--- I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable."

Jungkook just stood by you, unmovingly. It was as if he himself was trying to figure out what to say.

After what felt like forever, you hesitantly lift your head up to look at Jungkook, "I understand if you'd want to leave now."

And you meant it. You couldn't force him to watch you cry like an idiot. So, you understandingly told him he had a free will, that he could walk away.

And he really did.

Jungkook stared down at your tear-stained face for a few seconds.

Then without uttering a single word, he slowly blinked at you and walked away.

Now, you stare at the back of his head, wide-eyed.

You didn't expect him to actually leave this instance.

I mean, he didn't owe you anything, but you still felt uneasy.

The rational part of you truly understood his choice. But the emotional part of you was destroyed.

Even though you have no right to feel this way, you're so disappointed. In him. In yourself. In Jia. You think that's well deserved though; your disappointment in Jia.

Did she hate you?

Nothing else mattered.

You don’t know it yet but the biggest burden had just been lifted off your shoulders.

(Until you face Jia. But, more on that later.)

And, as for Jia; Jia had enough time to come clean. This was not on you. It was all her.

#fic: for what it's worth #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook x oc #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts angst

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alice-after-dark · 4 months

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Vox as an Abuse Victim

So here is that massive Vox post I promised, a day late for...reasons. I swear I have been working on this post for days, even before that StaticMoth discourse influx in my inbox.

After making my post about Vox and Angel and reading @deeply-unserious-fellow's post about a similar topic, I thought it might be finally time to make this post. Most people who have seen my content know how I typically portray StaticMoth. I have mixed feelings about Valentino at the best of times and outright dislike him at the worst. But frankly this post isn't actually about him (well, mostly). It's about Vox and why I am really hoping that Viv keeps the angle of Vox being an abuse victim.

TW for domestic abuse, physical violence, implied sexual abuse, abusive relationships, gaslighting/victim-blaming, and other canon-typical triggers. Contain abusive StaticMoth.

Honestly? The primary reason I hope she keeps it is because it would make him an even more complex character and bring attention to a criminally underrepresented group: abuse victims who are also bad people.

As pointed out in the post I tagged above, the world has become obsessed with this idea of a "palatable" victim, the poor suffering cinnamon roll. An abuse victim is expected to look like a victim. You're supposed to instantly feel sorry for them and want to protect them...but that's not so easy when the victim is someone who also hurts people, is it? It's not so easy to pretend they didn't do bad things too...but they are still a victim. That does not change just because they are a bad person. And thus it becomes complicated and interesting. Because it's not so easy to root for the victim when they're also victimizing others, especially when those others are people we care about...like Angel Dust. At the bare minimum, Vox is doing nothing to stop Valentino from abusing Angel or any of his other employees. Having Vox be a victim of the same abuse that Angel Dust suffers (at the hands of the same abuser no less) and yet also being someone who enables Angel's abuse creates a very complicated situation.

In a most media, the discovery of a mean/bad person being abused is frequently portrayed in a "well, they were abused so you can't be mad at them anymore" kind of light. Like "see? They're just an asshole because they were being abused! Now that we know, they're suddenly a good person!" Except that's not how it works. Someone can be a bad person and also be a victim. And even if them being an asshole was the result of their abuse, those behaviors and the consequences of those behaviors don't just vanish. They still hurt people and frankly I would riot if it came out that Vox was being abused by Valentino and then everyone in the show just up and forgave him for being an asshole. Like...no? He would still need to make up for his own shit and actually work towards being a better person. I like this character because he's an unapologetic asshole. If making him a victim takes that away, then that would be such a missed opportunity.

In fact, one thing I find interesting is that I definitely believe that Vox would have no problem admitting to being a bad person, but would rather fight an exorcist alone than admit to being a victim. His ego won't allow for it. He would probably laugh in your face and call you delusional while literally having a broken screen. Because he can't admit it, even to himself. He would see it as a sign of weakness and that's not acceptable to him (side note that being a victim does not make you weak, that's just what Vox's toxic mindset tells him). While I am fairly certain that he would have moved on from most 1950s mindsets since he is all about the future and progress and moving forward, toxic masculinity is still very much a thing today and I can definitely see him embodying it in some aspects, like needing to appear strong and in control at all times (and Hell's power hierarchy definitely encourages this mindset, so...). Fuck, even now in fucking 2024, men still have a hard time being taken seriously as the victims of abuse. Unless of course you fit a certain mold.

Angel Dust is the perfect example of this. He is a palatable male victim. He's effeminate, he's funny, he's friendly, he's caring, and we actively see him miserable in his suffering. Despite being in Hell just like the rest of them and having been a former mafia member and clearly able to stand on his own two feet it combat, his victimhood is constantly on display and the audience wants to protect and save him. On the opposite end, Vox is shown in a position of power that is constantly reinforced. He's an Overlord, he's manipulative, he's cruel, he's greedy, and he enables abusive behavior from others. He is not a palatable victim, which is why it's perfect.

Now let's get into what I believe is the actual evidence that this dynamic could still be present.

Something I see people commonly say is that Vox being abused by Valentino doesn't make sense because why wouldn't Vox just fight back? He could just shock Valentino into next Tuesday? And to these people I kindly say fuck you. Because while physical strength can be a factor in abuse, it is very rarely the thing that keeps the victim from leaving. Abuse, even when physical, is heavily psychological. It's like telling a victim "well, why didn't you just leave?" It's not that easy. Abusers tend to target those with low self-esteem and it's made pretty clear that Vox is a very insecure person (I feel the need to point out that having an ego and having high self-esteem are not the same thing, in fact having a big ego is typically a side effect of very low self-esteem). It's entirely possible that Vox makes the conscious decision not to fight back because he's afraid of what will happen if he does. He's afraid Valentino will leave. We know Valentino is just as mentally and emotionally abusive to those around him as he is physically abusive and we have actively witnessed him playing into Vox's insecurities and mentally messing with him (specifically in the events leading up to "Stayed Gone").

So let's talk about the scene leading up to "Stayed Gone," because I also see Vox's behavior towards Valentino here used as justification for why it's not possible for Valentino to be abusing Vox. Full disclosure, I myself in the past have even thought that it demonstrated them being mutually abusive towards each other, but have since changed my opinion after reading more takes and doing further analysis. Having rewatched this scene many times now, I have some observations.

There's a small moment that always caught my attention when I watched this scene because I wasn't sure what it meant, but looking at it in the context of this post, I think I can see a possibility. When Vox goes to see Valentino, he approaches the doors and they are opened for him by Valentino's servants. Vox pauses in the doorway, glances at them, then continues on inside.

What was the point of this moment? It seems out of place. Surely Vox has gone to Valentino's room before? Surely this door opening thing isn't new? And looking at Vox's face here, he looks...concerned? Like...they might hear what goes on inside? And he maintains that expression even as he enters the room, like he doesn't like that those two are out there and might hear them.

It also makes the entire situation feel so routine. Like Valentino is upset and these girls just expect Vox to show up and take care of it. And the scenes prior to this also sets it up as a normal occurrence. Vox rearranges his entire schedule to deal with Valentino, like he absolutely expects this situation could take up the rest of his day. And Valentino clearly doesn't listen to Velvette in this regard as she had to call Vox to come deal with Valentino despite him wrecking her department. Her comment even further establishes this as normal when she tells Vox that Valentino is "up in his tower, waiting for a flat-faced prince to calm him down." And when Vox arrives? "FUCKING FINALLY!" All of this sets up a standard situation: when Valentino is upset, it is Vox's job to calm him down and make him feel better. Valentino is a full grown adult and yet he has made it someone else's problem to manage his emotions.

Then of course we have the classic moment of Valentino literally throwing his glass at Vox only seconds after Vox has arrived. And this has to have been a conscious decision, because right before that, he throws his first glass on the ground before demanding another. So if he wanted to just break something, he didn't need to throw it at Vox, but he did. And I definitely don't think he cared if Vox got out of the way or not. But how easily Vox moves aside tells us that he fully expected to have things thrown at him and was ready for it. Now, I do believe that Valentino would throw shit at literally anyone when he is mad, but the key here is that Vox, his supposed friend, on-and-off lover, and business partner, is not exempt from this behavior. He even breaks Vox's phone when he realizes Vox is not paying attention to him. He has no qualms breaking Vox's property just to soothe his rage (I would also like to point out that he fucking obliterated that thing; just how hard did he fucking throw it?!).

Something in this scene that did initially throw me as I was writing this is that Vox doesn't seem particularly afraid of Valentino. Not the way we see Angel is when Valentino gets angry. We also see him actively get angry with Valentino, get in his face, and manipulate him. In the past, I believed this behavior from Vox to have established their relationship as mutually abusive. However, after reading yet another post from @deeply-unserious-fellow, I realized that everything Vox does here is only in direct response to Valentino's tantrum.

So let's go through some things here. When Vox initially tries to tell Valentino he can't go to the hotel, Valentino straight up ignores him. Does not respond to Vox's words, completely carries on like he didn't even speak. From this point on, Vox takes an entirely different approach to the situation. He manipulates Valentino into thinking that not shooting up the hotel is his idea and even offers further appeasement in the form of shooting his own employees as a method to satisfy Valentino's temper. I admit to initially viewing this as Vox being abusive, but frankly, when your options are being manipulative or letting your business partner go shoot up a hotel that houses the literal Princess of Hell, yeah, I'd take the manipulation route. Because, as I pointed out above, Vox cannot actually control Valentino. He tries to give him an order and is completely ignored. And even when he does successfully manipulate him, he still has to appease him in some capacity.

Now, there's also something here that is often played for shits and giggles, but I'm taking it 100% seriously right now. Many people point out that Vox's screen gets brighter when he gets in Valentino's face. Valentino is a moth demon and after Vox does this, he seems to be dazed for a moment, enough for Vox to rapidly switch back into manipulator mode and does his thing. It seems to have snapped Valentino out of his rage and I literally can't help but think that Vox has learned this as a defense mechanism. Valentino can't see very well, so it's very likely Vox's hypnotism doesn't work on him, so Vox had to find other ways of manipulating him and calming him down when he's in one of his rages.

Something I also want to point out is that it is made very clear through a single solitary moment that Valentino is in no way afraid of Vox. When he tells Vox about Alastor, Vox screams in his face, manhandles him, and Valentino just...pushes him off and saunters away, grinning like the cat that caught the canary. He doesn't even look upset or concerned when Vox grabs him. He just...laughs it off...like he knows Vox won't actually hurt him. Because I genuinely think Vox won't. Later in the episode, we hear Valentino's voicemails to Angel Dust and how he's emotionally manipulating him, telling him he can't really get better. I wouldn't be surprised to find that he's given Vox a similar treatment, especially considering that it's obvious Valentino knew what kind of reaction he would get out of Vox by bringing up Alastor. And sure, he brushes it off with a kink joke, but in all seriousness, why did Valentino keep Alastor's return from Vox? We know Angel has been at the hotel for a little while and Alastor has been involved with it as of a week prior to the beginning of season 1, so why suddenly bring it up? It's almost like he was specifically holding onto this information, waiting for the perfect time to use it that would be the most beneficial to him.

There's also another little scene that always caught my attention. It's when Valentino is getting pissed about the shadow construct that Angel Dust is flirting with.

Valentino starts getting pissy again, demands Vox's attention, gets annoyed when he doesn't get it, then immediately switches to mocking and confident when Vox starts bitching about Alastor. Like...he's so fucking proud of himself for getting Vox all worked up over Alastor. Like it's some kind of game for him. Riling Vox up and messing with his emotions is fun for Valentino. Alastor dredges up some real shit for Vox and Valentino exploits it. And from here on, he just keeps egging him on. Now, I'm pretty sure "Stayed Gone" would have happened with or without Valentino, but the point here is that he is definitely playing with Vox's emotions here.

As for the not being afraid aspect, again, Valentino hasn't actually threatened him with something that truly scares him. I don't think he's afraid of what Valentino could physically do to him. It's more likely to make him mad than anything else, even if he doesn't fight back (he'll probably go take out his anger on someone else). The thing about Vox is that we see that he does not like to appear weak in any capacity and I think this extends well into his own psyche. If he admits, even to himself, that he's a victim...to him, that's admitting weakness and he just can't do that. So Valentino's not abusing him, they just had a fight. He didn't hit back because he's in control of himself and he knows he could totally toast Valentino. It's Vox's own fault for pushing his buttons when he knew Valentino was mad. It wasn't rape cause he never said "no".

TLDR: Vox can be both an asshole and an abuse victim and it would be a really interesting aspect to his character as long as the show does it right and doesn't scrap his assholeness to make him a more palatable victim. Show him being a victim and also victimizing others. Show him not wanting to accept that he has been abused. LET PEOPLE BE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH FEELING SORRY FOR HIM.

(that's all for now, I have literally been working on this post for days and I'm exhausted)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #vox hazbin hotel #alice rambles #hazbin valentino #staticmoth #hazbin angel dust

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 11 months

Note

can you do mike schmidt x reader with abby trick-or-treating?

NOTE: This takes place after the movie

........

"Come on, slowpokes! Keep up!"

"Abby, don't go too far!"

"Relax, Mikey. She's just going two houses over. There's other kids already there. See?" You calmly pointed out the decorated home that Abby was rushing towards, disappearing into the crowd of kids who complimented her costume.

She was dressed as her "friend": a yellow version of Freddy Fazbear complete with a mask she painted, a yellow undershirt, and a black vest that was a tad bit too big for her.

Curiously enough, she removed one ear from the mask and covered one eye with black paint. But it didn't bother either of you too much, thinking she wanted to do something unique and creative with her costume.

Considering everything that happened at Freddy's Pizzeria, you were surprised that she wanted to dress up as one of the characters at all.

Yet neither you nor Mike recall ever seeing a "Golden Freddy". Not even backstage.

But you did, however, meet a golden Bonnie...and the person wearing his suit was none other than the bastard who murdered those poor children, including Garrett.

You just hoped their souls were finally at peace now, and that William rotted away in that suit, never to be found again. It was a rather fitting punishment--the perfect karma someone as sadistic as him.

Sometime later, you started dating Mike after you both officially quit that job, found something new to save his home from eviction, and helped him regain custody over his sister (Doug was more than eager to write you both off as her legal guardians).

He still had his nightmares, of course, that now involved visions of a decayed Springbonnie suit chasing him through that same forest. But you were always there to wake him up, cuddling together and helping him fall back to sleep without needing to down a bunch of pills.

He's genuinely been trying to depend on them less and less. Abby notices it, too, and has incorporated you in her drawings now, standing beside her happy-looking brother.

It's her own way of saying "thank you", and you accept it wholeheartedly.

When Halloween rolled around, you and Mike got too work decorating the house, surprising his sister after you picked her up from school. She did mention how he used to do the "bare minimum" before you came along.

And by that, she meant that Mike only ever put a jack o'lantern outside, a bowl filled with cheap candy, and a sign that said "take one".

Well this year...you made sure to buy better candy bars for the kids this year and add the finishing touches to the outside of the house. After that, you both took her trick-or-treating.

While she was occupied at the current house, you and Mike stood back to admire all the decorations and other costumes people were wearing.

"I honestly thought that whole near-death experience with the robots would've scarred her for life, but...she's been doing better." He remarked. "A lot better. It's like nothing ever happened."

"Well..she did help those kids find justice. They never knew their killer was standing right in front of them..they just needed that little push to finally recognize him."

"I'm surprised she hasn't told the whole story to her teacher yet."

"...because she knows we'd probably get some phone calls about that." You chuckled lightly, squeezing his hand.

Then you noticed Abby leaving the house, running down the steps and about to cross the street to reunite with you-

"Hey, hey, hey." Mike let you go to put both hands out, and she stopped in her tracks, mere inches from the road. "What did we talk about before we left the house, Abs?"

"...look both ways before I cross the street?"

"Exactly."

Huffing, she quickly glanced to her left and right, deeming it safe to cross. And only then did she resume her sprint, removing her mask once she was in front of you. "[Y/n], look at all these chocolate bars I got so far!"

You looked into the pillowcase, nodding in agreement. "Wow, you did get a lot! I sure can't wait to gobble them all up when we get home." A coy smirk appeared on your lips, watching her eyes widen in shock.

"Nooooooo, they're mine!" Protectively holding the sweets to her chest, she pouted and looked to Mike for help, yet he simply shrugged.

"I dunno, Abby.." It was hard for him to hide his own smile. "[Y/n] and I gotta make sure they're safe to eat, so we're gonna take one bite of every single bar-"

"Now that's just cruel!" She stomped her foot.

"We're only joking, sweetie." With a chuckle, you ruffled her hair, watching as she put her mask back on. "I think the next street over has a little haunted house maze. Do you wanna go check it out?"

She perked up and nodded in response, heading down the sidewalk with a spring in her step. You linked arms with Mike and followed her, looking around at the rest of the decorations.

But your eyes soon lingered on your boyfriend's soft brown ones, and he gazed back at you for a few moments. "What?"

"Nothing." You shook your head, smiling lightly. "I'm just...glad to be with you."

"So am I." He kissed you on the cheek. "Thank you, truly..Abby deserves a good Halloween."

"I think we all deserve a good one."

Unbeknownst to the three of you, there was a peculiar figure standing across the way. He was hanging out near the trees, almost perfectly blending in with the surrounding darkness so that nobody else could notice him:

A large mechanical bear with dirty yellow fur, one ear, and one glowing blue eye, smiling fondly at Abby and her costume.

It's good to see that she had not forgotten.

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf movie spoilers #mike schmidt x reader #fluff #halloween

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ohnococo · 8 months

Text

Fight Night | CHAPTER 5 | MMA Fighter!Sukuna x Reader

While you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town.

Sukuna invites you out for lunch.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, public sex, squirting, manhandling, car sex

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

You’re hesitant to set expectations with Sukuna, not just yet. It feels like it’s too hard to get a read on him, and it’s hard not to think a man like him could take advantage if he really felt like it. Even though he’s made it clear that you’ll keep seeing him for now, and that he enjoys your company in some capacity, he’s still the man that fucked you raw and disappeared completely from your life in the days between doing it all over again. Then disappeared for two months on top of it.

It doesn’t help that he clearly has his whims catered to often by those around him. With that in mind, you can’t help feeling like you needed to figure out if you were just one of those whims, or if it was more. Otherwise you couldn’t even entertain the feelings you spent far too much time trying to minimise. But, as you remind yourself again, he said in no uncertain terms that he would be keeping you around, so you treat it like a kind of fresh start.

A fresh start where he was already setting a less than ideal “first” impression. You hadn’t stuck around long at his house the last time you saw him, leaving before dinner because you had just shifted plans with your friends back a little rather than bailing completely. He’d left you with a parting gift, another orgasm while you pushed aside the worry in the back of your mind about how near your Uber was to picking you up, but he’d sent you out just in time nonetheless. Then, nothing.

No text, no call, nothing at all for the rest of the week. You didn’t want it to bother you, you didn’t want to be clingy, but there was a clear pattern here that wasn’t shifting along with whatever was happening between you two.

But then Sunday finally comes and so does a text from Sukuna, now named properly in your phone. It has those inconvenient butterflies stirring up again in your stomach, and it has you pushing your worries aside as you read his message and remind yourself hey, blank slate, right?

Then you read the text again, smiling to yourself.

have you had lunch?

It’s still not a proper greeting, but it somehow felt a little warmer than his usual opening. Warm enough to try pushing him to be a little more clear with you.

why, you gonna take me out?

When he texts back right away yet again it has you on the verge of swaying side to side and giggling like a schoolgirl before you snap out of it and remind yourself that this was really the bare minimum.

wouldn’t be the first time

Technically he’s right, but this is different. For you at least, and the small pit in your stomach as your emotions teeter back towards anxiety starts to remind you why putting yourself out there can be such a nuisance. It all seems so much easier for him though, so you push that aside and try to make it easy for you too.

yeah but this time it sounds like you’re asking me on a date

You see that he’s typing, then stops, and you’re left staring at your screen for what felt like an eternity. You read your message back and find yourself wishing you’d been able to say it in real life to get your tone across. It was joking, lighthearted, except it wasn’t entirely… but in plain text it looked a little more cold than you really wanted it to be.

well?

Well? Well? You know it hadn’t taken him that long just to type one word, but you decide to just get out of your head, and get out of your house, texting back your agreement to this lunch date. As usual, he’s already got a place in mind, sending you the name and address. Then,

i’m guessing you’ll be more comfortable in something casual here

The heads up is appreciated, though you’re annoyed that he’s obviously picked up on how awkward you’d felt being so overdressed during your last encounter. You still take his advice though, opting for jeans and a fairly simple top, flat shoes too. When you give yourself a final once over in the mirror, makeup simpler, accessories in place, you feel like he might not recognize you. But you feel like yourself, and that’s good enough to send you to your meeting place feeling more clear-headed than last time.

It helps that you actually know what your plans are, of course.

As you walk into the modern little cafe, Sukuna is easily spotted amongst the tables, and it occurs to you that with his size and appearance he’s incapable of being truly casual. How he’d looked last time was the closest he likely got, but here he’s closer to his clubbing attire than that. Nice pants, leather belt, button up shirt that had to be custom made to fit a body like his. It is toned down though, no flashy sheen to his shirt, no chain, not even one of his giant watches that probably cost more than a month’s rent.

You catch his attention as quickly as he’d caught yours, and he’s eyeing you up before you even reach your seat. The inevitable remark on your appearance is ready by the time you’re sitting down across from him at the little metal table and sliding your purse onto the floor.

“Who’s this cute little girl next door?”

He seems intent on earning an eye roll from you first thing every time, so you oblige as you lean back into your seat, not letting his tone go unnoticed by him slipping ‘cute’ in there. “I’m not always dressed like a party girl. Shocking, I know.”

He cocks a brow and you can see from his smile that something wicked is on the tip of his tongue, so you stop him there.

“Behave.”

Sukuna is a bit taken aback at that, but pleased as well as he chuckles, “You look good.”

You smile, feeling a warmth in your chest that he seemed compliant.

“Especially those thighs.”

And you’re back to rolling your eyes. You let out a dismissive sigh, picking up the menu in front of you, deciding you were done humouring him. Even if you have to purse your lips to hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth because, well, it was still a compliment.

He’s silent, until you look up at him over your menu and see him watching you carefully, smiling as if he knew very well that his words had blood rushing to your face. You are actually hungry though, so you redirect the course of the conversation.

“Anyway.”

His brows raise in an apparent acceptance of your shift in tone, and he sits back and sips the water he’d already had waiting at the table. “The salmon is nice here.”

“Like nice nice, or extra protein for your muscles nice.”

“Well cooked, well seasoned. The muscles will take a little more than a meal to build, though.” His review is playfully pointed, and you nod, considering the options before you.

As you make your choice, asking Sukuna for his feedback on a few things since he seemed familiar with the place, you don’t even notice how easy things seem for a moment. It isn’t until you’ve both ordered, and wait with your drinks that you realise how relaxed things feel between you two out in public, surrounded by people having as quiet an afternoon as the two of you were. There’s a different energy present, one that makes you feel like it might be okay to consider that there’s something there from both sides of the table.

It makes it hard for you to keep from smiling at seemingly nothing as Sukuna is telling you about his morning, which had started much earlier than yours. Talking about runs, about flinging heavy ropes, about flinging heavy men until they asked him to go a little easier on them because it was just training. You could see that it was more than that for him, though. It’s incredible how he can seem less intimidating when talking about these things. He was honing his body to hurt people after all, but it was clearly something he truly loved. He almost seemed boyish as he talked about it. Maybe even cute.

His hand is next to yours on the table, with his index finger resting on one of your knuckles. It’s an odd form of affection, but it has you trying your very best to keep your attention on him and not the small touch once it connects. When he starts tracing a small line up and across your fingers you jump in to contribute to the conversation, forcing yourself to focus.

“You’re not that scary for practising submissions too, right?”

His brows move up then down again, almost a twitch it’s so fast, but you can tell he’s surprised you seemed to know anything about what this part of his life might entail. “I don’t hold back, there’s no point in that.”

“So you’re just out here trying to break legs on the daily?” You let out an exaggerated puff of air, shaking your head. “You couldn’t pay me to train with you.”

He leans forward, extending his arm forward to slide his finger up your hand and along your arm as he does. The table is small enough, or rather Sukuna is big enough, that he can rest his arm parallel to yours as he traces his fingers idly near your elbow.

“It’s a good thing you aren’t aiming to get in any fights then. You don’t have a face meant for hurting anyway.”

You want to ask what kind of face you do have, in his opinion, but your waiter is approaching with food in hand so you sit back in your seat to give him the space to set your plates down.

Sukuna’s appetite is as big when he’s sober as it was when he wasn’t, and you find yourself surprised he was finished eating just when you were, despite ordering several extra sides of steamed veg. It feels familiar in a nice way though, the comfortable silence as he eats, and you waiting for whatever comes next.

It turns out, it’s more talking, something you’re coming to enjoy more and more with him. This time, you’re recounting your stressful week at work, plates long cleared, another glass of water being dropped off at your table.

“I just can’t fucking stand him, he’s so sneaky. He’ll never respond to emails either, he’s always running to your desk so you never get any of his bullshit in writing.”

Sukuna’s lip curls lightly, and he speaks like you two were even remotely on the same level financially, “Don’t put up with that.”

“He’s the department head’s little brown noser, no one can say anything about him.”

He half shrugs, “Then go somewhere else. You don’t need them.”

“I can’t just go somewhere else, you don’t go and get a job just like that.”

“You can.”

He says it like it’s an indisputable fact, like a shitty office job was remotely the same as being able to beat people up so well that you were any old company’s darling moneymaker. It should annoy you more, but your brain is more focused on how confident he had been that you could do better. Despite his being slightly out of touch, you can’t help feeling flattered that he seems to think highly of you.

Your discussion is stopped for now though as the waiter comes over to drop off your bill. He sets it down in the middle of the two of you before heading off to whisk away another table’s empty glasses. Sukuna is quick to reach for it, but when you put a hand on top of the corner of it, pinning it to the table, he frowns at you.

“I want to pay.”

He scoffs, pushing your hand away easily and reaching into his back pocket for his wallet. “No.”

It’s said with a sense of finality and a curled lip that imply there was no point in even thinking of questioning it, but something about today leaves you unshaken.

“Yes.”

He looks at you, amused, but clearly still discounting your persistence. Then, with a sternness so fierce you remember how often he must go unquestioned, he repeats, “No.”

You sit back, crossing your arms, drawing your lips into a pout. He’s unmoved, continuing to open his wallet and pull out a card, eyes on you all the while.

“Sukuna, how many meals have you bought me?” The drinks, the drugs, the entrance fees, those all go unmentioned.

His hand lifts, signalling the waiter nonetheless, but when he looks back at you that amused chuckle rings out and you wonder if you’ve somehow won him over.

Apparently you have, sort of, as he sighs and gives you his compromise, “You can pay next time.”

It shouldn’t feel like such a victory, but it does, and you’re practically bouncing in your seat as you sit up a little straighter and smile. “That’s what I thought.”

Your lighthearted antagonism amuses him further and he shakes his head at you. And you decide to retreat with your half-win. “Anyway, where’s the bathroom? I’ve gotta pee.”

Sukuna points to a little hall at the back of the cafe, and you pull your purse onto your shoulder as you give him a nod of thanks as the waiter approaches and he begins settling your check.

The bathroom is as stylish as the rest of the place, a single enclosed room with glossy dark green subway tiles and gold fixtures. As you shut and lock the door behind you, you take the opportunity of a little privacy to let out a long breath. It was going well, really really well. Another deep breath, another unstoppable smile, and you handle your business quickly.

As you wash and dry your hands, you look at yourself in the mirror. You feel present, hopeful even. Like something good was happening, instead of just something uncertain. Sukuna had taken you out. Not just somewhere to fuck, out on an actual date. You were actually getting to know each other on a level that felt more intimate, despite it being surface level in comparison to some of the things you’d done together. Still, it felt like progress.

You open the door, and gasp when you see Sukuna standing right there, massive frame blocking out the much brighter lighting of the cafe behind him.

“Jesus, don’t hover outside like that. It’s creepy.”

He doesn’t appear to have even heard your light scolding, large hands coming forward to grip your hips, pushing you back into the privacy of the bathroom as he reaches back to close the door behind him. Instead he’s focused on bringing his mouth to yours, kissing you roughly, hands already sliding behind you to grab at your ass. He squeezes hard enough to have you letting out a small squeak into his mouth before one of his hands is sliding up your back to hold the back of your neck, letting you recline into his grasp as his tongue explores your mouth.

His cock is already hard when he presses his hips against you, and you pull back to speak right when he does the same, but he’s quicker, and it leaves your mind racing until you’ve forgotten what you were even going to say.

“You can’t talk to me like that and expect to not get fucked.”

It was your usual playful banter, but apparently it had done something for him. Enough to have him kissing you until you’re both out of breath, both needy for each other. He pulls back again, tongue reaching out to lick at your open mouth before he’s turning you around and bending you over the sink, trying to keep his eyes on yours in your reflection as he paws at your jeans for access.

You know he’s not exerting himself, not really, but he’s still panting as he finally undoes your pants and roughly tugs them down your hips. “Your thighs really do look amazing in these, but they’re fucking inconvenient.”

Your hands are quick to help, starting to worry he might actually rip them if you don’t, and while you’d come to tolerate the risk of being ass out and full of cum in the dark of a nightclub while out of your mind on drugs, you weren’t willing to accept the same in a cute little lunch spot in the middle of town.

He’s impatient once they’re over your ass, shoving them only a few more inches down, then tugging your panties down to meet them as well. He pushes the middle of your back downward, making you arch so he can access your pussy more easily, and he’s foregoing foreplay in favour of sliding inside of you as quickly as possible. Luckily for you, the clatter of his belt being undone has your body responding almost as much as his kisses and firm hands had moments before, and when you feel his thick fingers fanned across your thighs and ass, spreading you, you hold your breath in wait of that familiar feel of his fat tip pushing at your entrance.

When he has just the head anchored inside of you, your eyes shut, letting a long slow breath out as your walls stretch to accommodate him so suddenly. When the sting is a little too much, you open your eyes and find he’s watching your face intently, catching a wince of discomfort in your expression before he’s spitting down and onto where your pussy was gripping him tightly. He pumps in and out, shallow thrusts spreading the saliva around until he’s spitting again, giving you a little more relief as he slowly shoves his way in deeper.

As you squeeze and rock back into him he leans over you, bracing his hands just above where yours were positioned on the sink. He practically purrs into your ear with his deep groans, kissing along your neck, biting at your clothed shoulder, and rutting into you like he might not fit this time.

“You’re so tight like this, can you even take it all?”

He knows you can, but his words leave you dizzy as you arch your back more and stick out your ass for him to be able to slide deeper, until he’s buried to the hilt. Then he’s sucking air in through his teeth as he reckons with the tight squeeze of the position even as he’s thrusting at a steadily quickening pace. It’s not long before he’s fucking you properly, your breasts bouncing with the force of his snapping hips, head lulling forward, knuckles white from clinging to the porcelain sink for balance. His hand wraps around you, arm keeping you up as he grabs your jaw and forces you to keep your face up and looking into the mirror.

“Don’t hide from me.”

Your eyes roll back, heat building in your stomach as his cock churns at your insides.

“I need to see your face.”

You bite your lip, trying your hardest to stay quiet, even though all you wanted to be doing was whining his name while the underside of his cock, and those thick metal piercings, put a blinding pressure on the spot that had your toes curling in your shoes.

It feels strange, like your pussy is trembling uncontrollably though your orgasm hasn’t quite come yet, like the pressure inside of you is more present than it ever has been before. When you start to fold in on yourself, arching your hips forward as you move your hands onto either side of the mirror in front of you, he’s forced to only give you shallow thrusts and his tip is angled to press against your sweet spot in a way that has you panicking, realising exactly what’s going to happen.

“Sukuna stop!”

“Stop? When you’re gripping me like this?” He’s still thrusting, like he’s unable to control himself as he outright laughs at your frantic request.

“I’m gonna squirt, stop!”

His laugh is wicked, and far too loud for where you were, “Saying that isn’t going to stop me.” He means it, forcing his hand between your tightly clenched legs, finger shoving its way between your pussy lips to rub at your clit roughly.

There’s genuine fear in your eyes as it only pushes you closer, and you pull at his arm, pleading. “Please, stop. We can’t hide it, please!”

You’re half frightened that your pleas will fall on deaf ears with the way Sukuna was already worked up into a frenzy, but he takes in your face and stops. He doesn’t say a word, but his gaze is off of you for the first time since he’d slipped inside of you, and he’s pulling out, tucking himself away as you lean over the sink, head hanging as you catch your breath while your whole pussy feels like it’s throbbing.

Then, he’s roughly tugging your pants up, and you’re forced to quickly zip and button them with trembling hands as he unlocks the door, grabbing your bag in one hand, your arm in the other, and pulling you through the restaurant. It’s a little embarrassing, the way he was handling you in front of all these people, but you also know looking like you’d pissed yourself from squirting down and onto your light blue jeans would have absolutely been worse.

You can barely keep up with his long strides, though you’re forced to as he doesn’t let go, heading into a parking garage next to the block the cafe was on. You have to actually catch your breath when he stops in front of the elevator, pressing the button impatiently as you’re now grateful for his firm grip keeping you standing. With the suddenness of his movements, and the budding orgasm that you’d halted earlier, your legs are weak.

When the door dings and opens, he finally lets go of you after pulling you inside, roughly jabbing at the button for the 4th floor, then the close door button. You lean back against the wall, still trying to get your wits about you, and you swear you can feel the tension rolling off of him as the elevator quickly makes its way up. His jaw is clenched, he’s shifting from side to side, and swallowing thick. You don’t have to ask him to turn around to know he’s still hard.

The smallest wave of relief washes over you as the elevator door opens and you see that there were hardly any cars on this floor of the garage, and you’re not surprised Sukuna had parked somewhere so quiet as he tugs you in the direction of a shiny black Range Rover. You can only imagine the hell that would be raised if someone scratched his car.

Your thoughts are back on him as he’s grabbing you again and pulling you over to his car and unlocking it quickly. He shoves you into the back, cool leather squeaking as your elbows hit the seats, then throws your bag into the front before he’s on top of you in seconds, having not even bothered pulling the door shut.

“You can’t steal that from me.”

He’s pulling at your jeans again, and you’re forced to scramble to undo them again even as you voice your confusion, “what?”

“This cunt was ready to make a mess, for me.” He tugs your jeans and panties down, then over your feet and off, the force pulling off one of your shoes in the process before they’re tossed over and into the front seat. He’s so serious you’d be genuinely frightened if he were talking about anything other than making you cum, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it aside to join your jeans in the front as he speaks, “Now give it to me.”

His demand is serious, as he frees his still-hard cock again and puts one of your legs over his shoulders, folding you in half as he leans over you and lines himself up.

“Sukuna- ah!” You’re squirming beneath him, cock buried to the hilt inside of you in no time. Still, you try to manage his expectations. “Sukuna I can’t just make that happen.”

“Yes you can.” It’s oddly encouraging, but you can’t dwell on that when he’s pulling your other leg up too, bracing himself on the backs of your thighs as he presses you further into your uncomfortable position.

You understand his thinking perfectly once his long thrusts start leaving just his tip anchored inside of you before he’s pushing back in and you feel that undeniable pressure again as he has you angled just right. He sees it, from the way your eyes roll back, lips forming an ’oh that your lungs don’t let you release. He sees it even more clearly once he’s moving fast and your pussy is gripping him tight even though it’s impossibly slippery.

He moves one hand further into your thigh, still keeping you in place, but able to swipe his thumb at your clit. It’s so intense you can hardly make a sound, though with the door still open and the car rocking with the force of his thrusts it would be undeniable to any passerby what was happening.

It’s like you can feel his cock throbbing even more like this, and when you lock your eyes on his you know he’s nearly as close as you are. He leans further over you. Kissing and biting at your calves as you’re forced even deeper into your position, legs nearly at your ears.

The sounds of your pussy only get louder, and as that pressure builds again you’re ready to let it burst, panting out an urgent cry of his name just as your climax hits. You can’t even think, orgasm ripping through you as you finally find your lungs enough to let out a long whine, voice shaking when the last of the air is being forced out in your prolonged cry.

“Fuck, there you go.” He’s pulling out, swiping his fat tip over the spray of juices while he keeps up his movements on your clit, absolutely soaking both himself and the back seat.

Then you cry out again, thighs shaking, as he slides back into you. His body cages you in as he fucks you hard and fast, ready to finish even as you’re being pushed into overstimulation, but you want it, so you grab onto his ass as he thrusts. He offers you an encouraging groan at this, and when you lean forward as much as you can to bite and suck at his pecs, all you can reach while folded in half, he’s practically roaring out his approval as his stomach tenses and he fills you with his cum, thrusts hard enough to have your legs jumping in his grasp.

He keeps snapping his hips against yours a few times, even though his balls are already emptied inside of your twitching pussy, until you’re squirming and pushing at him. When he pulls out, he leans back, looking at your fucked out hole involuntarily pushing his cum out as you clench with the aftershocks, then at the sweet little droplets covering your thighs and ass.

You aren’t looking at anything at all, eyes shut as you come down from your high. Once he’s sliding his fingers in you, pressing at your walls, pulling more cum out to join what was already on his seats, you finally open your eyes, surveying the damage. There’s plenty of those same droplets all across his abdomen, and as you look around, all over his back seat too.

“Oh my god, your car.”

Sukuna chuckles, eyes now on your fucked out yet worried expression, and he swallows thickly before his fingers leave you and he’s tucking himself away. “It’s leather, it’ll be fine.”

You take his word for it, stretching your legs out as he gets out of the car and pops the trunk open. He returns with a gym bag, pulling out a towel and wiping off his own stomach before tossing it to you.

“Jesus,” you pant, taking the towel and rubbing up and down your soaked thighs, “thank god you’re a gym freak.”

He surprisingly has nothing to say to that, seemingly too content to have gotten his way as he reaches into the front to retrieve his shirt, then your jeans. You guess he’ll have to deal with his ruined pants later as he gets into the driver’s seat, looking back and waiting for you to join him.

During the drive home Sukuna is quiet, and not in a comfortable silence, a tense one. His jaw is clenched, so is his hand on the steering wheel, and every so often his hand tightens on your thigh as he lets out one of his annoyed sighs. It’s leaving an unpleasant taste in your mouth, so you decide it’s best to be direct.

“What’s wrong?”

He glances at you, as if the question came out of nowhere, and you think it’s cute that he seemed unaware of his tells slipping. His jaw relaxes and he moves his hand from your thigh to make a sharp turn before placing it back.

“I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Me squirting?”

He glances at you again, and lets out a half chuckle that seems to slightly dissipate the tension that had been coming off him in waves. “No, the fucking.”

Your mouth is left hanging open at that admission, when he was the one that had come barging into the bathroom, “You didn’t want to fuck?”

“I was trying not to fuck you.”

The ‘why’ of it all is pushed aside for the unavoidable need to poke fun at him just a little “So there is something Ryomen Sukuna can’t do,” the words aren’t out before you’re chuckling at the ridiculousness of it all, “you can’t not fuck me?”

Despite your laughter, your words have his jaw clenching again, hand tightening on both your thigh and the steering wheel as he finally pulls up to your place.

“Okay, okay, then don’t fuck me.”

He parks, turning to look at you with a slight sneer, like you were still daring to mock him.

“I’m serious.”

His eyes narrow, like he suddenly wants no part of it now that it’s presented as you telling him what to do, so you rephrase it.

“Next time we go out somewhere, we aren’t going to fuck. Think of it as a challenge.”

The sneer dissipates, and leaves a mild curiosity in its place as he considers your challenge. Then, he shrugs. “Fine.”

You smile, and so does he, though it’s a much more muted expression. With your confidence slightly bolstered, you decide to make another demand too.

“And text me too.”

“What?”

“Text me.”

“Right now?” He’s genuinely confused by your half-formed demand.

“Always. I mean… whenever. Not just when you want to fuck me.”

He sighs, brows raising as he gives you a tone that tells you he won’t repeat his sentiment again, “I told you I didn’t intend to fuck you.”

“But you did. And you didn’t speak to me all week.”

“You know I have-“

“And!” Your interruption has his eyes narrowing, but he allows you to continue nonetheless, even when you pause for a moment to let your words catch up with your brain.

“I think,” or rather, you hope, “that doesn’t really line up with whatever your intentions are.”

There’s a shift in the air, like Sukuna is considering closing himself off from this, eyes pulling focus as his face goes blank and he’s silent for a long, heavy moment. Then he speaks quietly, and you wonder if he’d meant to speak out loud at all, “You wipe off that makeup and put on a pair of jeans and suddenly you’re even more of a brat than usual.”

Whether he’d intended his words to have a bite or not, they’re effectively toothless to you, not when he wasn’t outright saying he wouldn’t give you a little more attention.

“A cute brat though, right?”

His tight line of a mouth spreads into a begrudging smile, and he leans in, large hand coming up to hold your jaw, and the way he carefully enunciates his words has your heart racing again.

“Yes. A cute. Brat.”

CHAPTER 6

#reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #my writing #jjk #sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #mma fighter!sukuna #jjk smut #reader insert #sukuna smut #mma!sukuna #mma!au

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iwishf1wasreal · 6 months

Text

F1 Driver NSFW Profile: ✴ Carlos Sainz ✴ smut ✴ 18+ readers only

I. Flirt.

He thinks of himself as a very classy guy. He has no desire to be the loudest in the crowd or draw too much attention to himself. He feels the same about flirting. He’d rather live up to his nickname, Smooth Operator, and subtly yet suavely get your attention. He's also decidedly somewhat against PDA with a few minor exceptions depending on the occasion. But when you’re alone, he’s all over you. He’s also very romantic, a man who doesn’t just buy you roses or light a few candles because he thinks that’s what he should do. He genuinely enjoys it and can riff off of the classic romantic gestures to make them perfectly tailored to you. But mostly because he’s private and quite protective, PDA is at a very discrete minimum.

II. Propositioning.

Again, he’ll lead with romance. A deep kiss that takes your breath away. Tender and lingering touches once you’re behind closed doors. He’ll lead you to the base of the bed, kissing your neck and hands running over the skin, bunching up the bottom of your top. Carlos is also pretty controlled. He tends to have a pretty good cap on whatever emotions are just bubbling underneath, so he’s not exactly ripping you out of the party to take out in the back alley. It’s much less saucy and provocative. But once you know him, know his mannerisms and expressions, he can still light a fire in the pit of your belly by simply making eye contact with you over the ring of his glass. The mask he wears is neutral, perfectly acceptable for the public occasion but you know what he’s thinking. You can practically see it spelled out on his forehead. You’ll do your best to convince him to head home early.

III. Libido.

He could go all day but finds that a waste of an entire day. He’s young and athletic, so he benefits from his strength and stamina. He definitely would not consider himself a sexual person though you would be first to argue that he certainly fucks like one. Sexuality would be so private for him, and he would need to feel comfortable as well, so one-night stands had been mostly infrequent before you.

IV. Turn-Ons: tame & nasty.

Tame: Red dresses. High heels. Red fingernail polish. Dangly earrings. Low-cut tops. When you touch his bicep when you laugh. Watching you dance. When his cooking makes you moan. Reaching out for him in the middle of the night. Watching you lean over to take a golf shot and you purposefully wiggle your bum because you know he’s watching. Short golf skirts and those little white socks with sneakers. Nails scratching against his scalp. Drinking beer. Hide behind him. Letting him feed you. Watching each other from across the room.

Nasty: When you open your mouth and stick out your tongue at him to show him you’ve swallowed all he gave you. You sprawled on the bed with your hair fanned out behind you, covered in a mist of sweat with a tied, satisfied smile. When he starts taking you harder from behind so you have to reach back and hold on to him. Desperate gasps of his name. Eye contact. When he hits just the right spot and you let out some sort of exclamation.

V. Self-stimulation.

Generally when he’s away, it's with his imagination. Maybe a sex video off the internet if he’s looking for the release to relieve stress more than sexual frustration. Would never and does not ask about nudes but happily accepts them if you’re willing to share. Facetime sex is also an option but he has to be wined and dined, so to speak. He doesn’t want you to just answer completely bare or in the shower. He wants you to make some sort of effort, maybe a lovely dress or one of his shirts and colour coordinated panties. Something that shows him you’ve been looking forward to the call as much as he has.

VI. Foreplay.

If you wanted, he’d happily go down on you and expect nothing in return. Sometimes, you’ll even offer or reach to thank him–still dazed from your orgasm and he’ll stop you. “If only we had all day, cariño.” he’ll smile softly before he kisses you deeply and gets out of bed. He’s easily convinced for another full round in the shower but he’ll start to get antsy if you keep him beyond that. Doing something whilst you’re winding down in the evening isn’t sworn off by any means and wine can make his hands wander. But he needs to at least feel like he’s done more with his day than just you.

VII. Rhythm.

Because he is so genuinely romantic, he prefers a tender and savouring rhythm. Relatively quiet during sex, not because he’s not feeling it or is embarrassed. He’s just always so much in his head and sex can be quite emotional for him. You can get him out of it with enough coaxing and making him feel so good he loses his inhibitions. Otherwise, he’s a lot of shallow breathing and gentle groans.

VIII. How He Likes It.

He’s a missionary guy with some variation: legs folded to your chest, held down so you're folded in half or propped up against his shoulders. Maybe with you sideways beneath him while he’s still poised on top of you. Mostly he’s focused on keeping your eye contact or watching you react to what he’s giving you. Though, he feels best in doggy but sometimes fully can’t concentrate on thrusting when you start circling your hips and throwing it back.

IX. Location, location, location.

Obviously, being so private, it’s in the comfort and safety of whatever bedroom you find yourselves staying in that week. Craziest place you’ve done it is a golf course. One of the very few times you’ve let him drag you to the course and he pretends like you aren’t half asleep ranting about groundwater pollution and the loss of habitat on the way there. But he likes seeing you in the little outfit and the way you cling to him since you’re so out of your element. It’s also one of the rare times he’s gone without his usual golf entourage which makes it feel like you simply must take advantage. He’s not really much for you topping so you considered it another reason for the special occasion when you come across hole number 11 that’s shaded in shrubs and trees. The golf cart squeaked the whole time and Carlos almost ruined his own orgasm thinking someone else’s cart was starting to crest over the hill but you did it. Slightly awkward and dazed after, you still got it done. It seemed to spark a frenzy in him though, he was behind you coaching you through every swing. When, normally, he likes to throw you into the deep end and gleefully watch you struggle. It’s one memory he and his imagination rely on heavily when he’s away.

X. Kinky.

Not particularly kinky, more about each individual experience than wanting to recreate or dedicate certain experiences every time. Solidifies the belief that “vanilla” doesn’t have to mean boring. He’s just a partner who values a connection that feels the same and based in emotions. Sex is an expression of love for him.

XI. Bedroom aids/Toys.

He’s down to use a vibrator during sex if that’s something you’re into. He’s not really that kind of devious where he’ll suggest it or just pull it out in the moment and evaluate your reaction. He’s rational enough not to see it as a competitor and he knows you rely on it when he’s gone. So he does his best to work in tandem though when things get to the nitty gritty, sometimes he can struggle to multitask so either you need to take over and put the vibrator to the spot that feels right or he’ll toss it across the bed and focus on one thing at a time.

XII. Cum.

Again, he can last a while especially if he uses the intense mind-over-matter mentality he’s perfected from racing. He’d prefer to use condoms simply because the clean-up can be easier…But isn’t opposed to going raw.

XIII. Pleasure reciprocation.

You give head fairly equally and he will try anything you ask him to. Degradation was particularly hard from him. He’d start out good, calling you names and taunting you with his dick but after a certain point he couldn’t hold up the act any more. “I can’t do it, amor. It feels wrong, I can’t do it. “ He panted heavily in your ear after his thrusts came to a halt. But ultimately, he’s good with head. Understands the need for varaction and strong suction. Also, once he observed just how, uh, /helpful/ his nose could be…he really stepped up his game in a whole new way.

IVX. Bonus.

Though he’s not particularly loud in the bedroom, he does indulge in dirty talk but in his native Spanish. If you’re not a fluent speaker, he tries to use it as motivation to get you to learn.

When you ask what he’d just purred so sultrily in your ear, he tuts disapprovingly. “Tienes que seguir estudiando, mi amor.”

He’ll stay in Spanish the entire time, sometimes even let his native tongue bleed into whatever you’re doing after. Even acts like Spanish just feels so much better on his tongue, he can’t help that he stays in it.

One time when you’re on your knees for him, he’s particularly talkative. A soft husky tone, just between the two of you despite his empty Milano flat. He’s got one hand in your hair, keeping it out of your face as you go down on him.

“Dios–Fuck, Oh my–” It was the first time he slips between the two languages but it’s only momentary. Once his eyes came fluttering open and you pulled off him for a moment to breathe, hands taking over for a moment. “Cariño, por favor.” He sounded desperate, his free hand clutching the arm of the chair he’s seated on, hand desperately grasping at the fabric. Trying to find some semblance of reality to hold on to.

So rarely do you have him in the palm of your hand. You were smirking to yourself, looking at him with big innocent eyes and his body started to trash. He said something else in Spanish, he had said it enough times that you knew it meant he was close. In this moment, it wasn’t lost on you that his repetition of perverted lessons in Spanish might actually be paying off.

You put your mouth back over him, starting slowly again–a contrast to the firm, strong pace of your hand. Focusing on the head, you let your tongue rub against it and his hips bucked involuntarily. He says more in Spanish but you can’t really hear him. You’ve taken him back down your throat. No warning just as far as you can fit him. He’s practically howling now, Spanish words blending together you’re not sure if he’s coherent.

He didn’t last much longer, whiny and whimpering when you kept sucking after he finished. When Carlos finally breaks free, he lets out a long string of curse words–jumbled between English and Spanish.

“You okay, baby?” You ask in an innocent tone, gentle hands still fondling him. He hisses as your hand caresses his tip again. He almost looks like he might cry.

“¡Ay, carino, por favor!” He hissed, snatching your hand off his dick and reaching for his shorts from around his ankle. “Suficiente. Estoy suficiente, por favor.” You couldn’t help but giggle. Carlos, always so composed and control, fucked out and overstimulated, practically ready to jump out of his skin if you even flinched to reach out for him again. “I need time to recover.” He huffed, looking at you with stern brown eyes.

“Si, señor.” you saluted him playfully and he sighed, side eyeing you like he was debating something. Before you can ask, Carlos peeled himself out of the chair and extended his hand to help you up. Once face to face, you kissed him. Letting him taste himself on your tongue before you both went your separate ways for the day.

“I think you could use some one on one tutoring,” he tutted, looking you up and down.

“Por que?” you asked back with mock insult.

Carlos didn’t answer. Just rolled his eyes and bent to swing you over his shoulder, dragging you up to your bedroom.

#i had to abandon the formattign to get it to post everyone boo tumblr #carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1blr #carlos sainz imagine

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

Note

Hello there! 👋 I really like your al haitham fics and I was wondering...

if you could do a yan! al haitham with a reader who's sweet and friendly? (Basically a sunshine reader cause I like sunshine characters to balance out the cold characters)

(Hope your having a good day! :) )

Apricate

yandere alhaitham x reader

cw(s) : general yandere themes

no because I'm so soft for this pairing too (T▽T) Sunshine x Sunshine Protector so trueee

Alhaitham has found himself in a predicament as of late.

Well, ‘predicament’ as far as the time it's requiring him to decipher the case — which, if he was honest, has snowballed further than what he deems efficient of himself. Whenever Alhaitham finds himself in a pickle, his tactic is to assess the weakest link of the situation, so that it's solved with minimum energy and action. However this time, doing that had just resulted in him being stuck in his head for weeks, vacillating between the plethora of methods to integrate your existence with his — without any repercussions.

And by which, he means for your hand in marriage.

Now, this questionable phrasing appearing to be a misnomer for a rather harmless intention for someone of his age, would've sounded less absurd if the conditions for a proposal with such social importance were met — you know, if both parties were familiar and shared adequate affections to escalate to that stage. The Acting Grand Sage is not delusional, you and him barely know each other (or at least, you do) but does that stop him from planning ahead?

No, not when he's certain there'd be no such gap remaining once he's finally cracked the code.

If Alhaitham was being honest, he truly has achieved it all : academic accomplishments, a stable job with a handsome wage, a spacious house, his title as one of Sumeru's heroes and his looks as the cherry on top — the only thing lacking now, is someone to bring warmth to his house (and no, his leech of a roommate does not count). It's fairly recent that such an idea or need occurred to him, being most content with his own presence for all his life, he had thought that he could pass the rest just the same.

Had it been the images of lovers strolling along the streets of Sumeru hand-in-hand that he'd previously paid no heed to? Had it been the children coddled alongside their parents and the passing thought, could he have that, too? If he tried? Or was it just you, who'd become the challenger of his views?

He's well-aware of how he's seen at times ; an emotionless rock. Which is why his late-grandmother had been concerned at the earlier days, even the most self-sufficient human is bound to crave connection at one point and who would accept him, if he continued to be like this? Alhaitham had thought about it long and hard, does he need to change himself to be accepted by you, at least? Would his brooding bluntness dent your amicability?

Alhaitham has only talked to you thrice, but three times is all he needed to confirm that no, he needn't put on a facade when you can just become the flower blooming alongside the rock ; balance his flaws and in turn, he'll balance yours. And what better way to ensure that equilibrium than through the sacred bond of marriage?

Now, if only these other pests could stop leeching off of your attention.

Alhaitham watches from his peripheral, there is you, surrounded by a group of people again. It seemed as though you came to the library for something important but instead got swarmed by your ‘friends’ asking for help with this and that. Normally, you delightedly handle these crowds, solving each of their dilemmas with grace. Today though, it seemed your urgency weighed more.

Disappointing as it is admirable in a way, people of all kind seem to always flock around you. The Acting Grand Sage understands better why they do, your luminous countenance has drawn him to this pit as well. But unlike those fools, at least he isn't blind to your personal space. The predicament as a result, is like this : how can he form that connection with you if you're always surrounded by these self-serving idiots and achieve his greater plan of a peaceful, fulfilling life?

He notices your attention shift to his person at the corner of the library, you're quickly giving apologetic smiles to everyone surrounding you, pushing past the crowd and making your way to him. If you looked back, you'd be able to see the array of flabbergasted faces, some then morphing into distaste when they see who exactly you'd abandoned them for — but you don't, as per the Scribe's advice.

Alhaitham pretends to be taken aback when you sheepishly greet him and ask if you could sit with him, he responds in the positive and you heave a sigh of relief.

You did it.

“I did it. I did as you advised me.”

The corner of Alhaitham's lips curve slightly, his gaze flickers between the page of his book and yourself before him.

“And how do you feel?”

You halt for a moment, as if processing your very being from the inside out to answer that question.

“I...I feel free, strangely.”

This time the Scribe fully settles on the writings of the book, taking his quill and running it along the surface of the page in a crossing motion.

“I told you so.”

Alhaitham gains the solution at last ; he needn't get rid of them himself, he merely has to make you see the bad influences of your life and have you cut them off by yourself.

First step : achieved.

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gatitties · 1 year

Note

NO BECAUSE !!!!!!!! i think we need more interactions of Assassin!Reader x Bonten 😩😩 (thank u for da reader who requested it bcs my 🫀 is beating happiness) or maybe you could make this a series??? 👀👀 bUT ANYWAYS can I request a Assassin!Reader x Bonten where Bonten was trying to find some info abt Reader but ofc Reader knows abt it so when there's a general meeting for the Bonten Executives, she appeared into the meeting like she was just watching them the whole time 🤣 and Reader is mad mad abt it. she doesn't want them to snoop around her life

(if u dont want to do this, its ok!!! no pressure. lovelots 🫰🏻)

─Yandere!Bonten x assassin!reader

─Summary: tired of so much persecution you decide to set the record straight, but you are only making a mistake

─Warnings: mención of blood, unwarranted obsession, toxic behaviors, yandere stuff

first of all, I still don't know how to write action or fight scenes, I'm sorry, second, many people will be grateful to you for the request, and third, how so many people liked it?! 😭🤚anyway, here you go (about making a miniseries Idk, but if I have any idea for this I will definitely write it 😌) @ajmiila02, @kenmasbimbo, @uniqueeggtoast, @belle643, @simpingfor-wakasa, @ihavestrawberryjam, @binibining-mariaclara, @sereinitysmind (hope that I didn't left anyone untagged)

Part one / Part Three

"You should stop turning down those job offers, they offer you a good amount and your other clients seem not to ask for your help much lately."

You sighed looking at the request manager, he took your silence to mean that you didn't really care, you never have anything stable in this world, there were always better and worse times so it wouldn't really worry you.

"Just take care to let me know if there are other people than 'Mr. B', their requests are ridiculous."

The man raised both hands, nodding to your petition, after that you left the alley where you met the manager, returning to the busy streets of Tokyo in the middle of rush hour, where everyone was walking down the street without worries, you mixed among those people until you reached a suburb of small houses. You opened the rickety door with a nasty creak, looking at the garbage that flooded the floor, you couldn't ask for more for the minimum amount of this place and location, anyway it was time to move to another apartment.

Not only because you needed to change 'home' from time to time, but because lately you had felt less safe with your environment, it all started when you accepted the first request from 'Mr. B', they only asked you to kill a man, you did your job but also you discovered the identity of that 'B' who turned out to be not just one person but rather several.

You don't usually remember faces or names that aren't necessary for your missions, so you had to rack your brains to remember those two faces you saw, then you linked them to that group you saved in that brothel a month ago. Luckily only you could see how the guy with the pink mullet and the guy with the scar who tried to stop you that time were there, they seemed to be watching your movements with a satisfied smile when they saw little drops of blood fall from your face.

You interpreted that 'Mr. B' was all that group that you barely remembered the appearance of, you thought that on that occasion they were only there to check that you did your job well, but you noticed how they started to track you after that assignment, although of course, they could not find you and their only way to see you would be for those orders, which you did not accept.

The next two months your usual customers disappeared without a trace, it's not like you received daily orders but it was strange that all your requests were now only from 'B', it irritated you because it meant a heavy blow to your name in the underground, by refusing to take orders to Bonten, no one else did it as if they felt threatened.

But the worst of all was that every step you took you felt their eyes on you, every corner you turned you saw their shadow on you, it bothered you enough to think about killing them but you seriously thought about it and it would get you nowhere, you didn't used to kill to reputable or well-known people because that would cause a more intensive search for you and those guys seemed to be at least successful because they were handling a ridiculous amount of money.

You didn't even know their names and they always seemed to be on your trail, you never let them get too close to you, but lately they seemed closer and closer to finding you directly, you got fed up, you weren't leading a quiet and peaceful life, but inside from the garbage of your work you could always have a rest from all those deaths, you could always have a little space to pretend that your life was not rubble and everything was normal.

"Looks like I'm going to have to do some special work or I'll go completely hysterical."

As you were getting ready to leave that same night, all of the Bonten executives gathered at their meeting point earlier today, all sitting at a round table waiting for Mikey to start the meeting, though he waved for Takeomi to start since he was already busy eating his taiyaki.

"As you know we have been looking for that assassin from that day, we have always followed clues but we never managed to find the person, but today, we will complete the capture plan."

They all nodded in sync, some more eager than others, after all the stupid game of cat and mouse made them feel more irrationally attracted to you, Mochizuki always enjoyed watching you mix so well with people but quickly lost sight of you that he needed more from you, Sanzu and Rin enjoy seeing you staining you with the blood of your targets, Kakucho seems to appreciate your fighting style, Takeomi sees you as a difficult puzzle to solve and Ran and Kokonoi were perhaps the least attached to that exalted image of you, but they were curious about you.

"Is everyone clear about their part of the plan? We can't let anything go wrong, she never leaves a trace and knows how to erase her tracks, so we'll have to resort to more violent methods than just watching how she goes on our faces."

The meeting continued for a few minutes, explaining each phase and step while unknown to them you were in the room ventilation listening to everything, your blood boiled listening to how they talked about how they would make you bow down to them, it was your breaking point.

"Once we capture her, we can do what we want with her?"

"Only what I allow."

Mikey got up answering Sanzu who rolled his eyes for the answer, the leader patted his shirt to remove all the rest of the crumbs, with that everyone knew that the meeting had ended although to their surprise three bullets hit the table right in front of the site from Mikey, immediately after you kicked the grate and jumped on top of the table pointing your two pistols at everyone.

"I am going to make one thing clear, do not interfere in my life, I don't know what you want from me, but I'm not looking for anything from you."

You kicked Rin's arm as he tried to grab your leg, immediately firing Sanzu's pistol to disarm him, then ducking to avoid Ran's staff.

"What about the expenses for destroying that brothel?"

"You speak as if-" you jumped from the table hitting Kakucho's hands with the butt of your pistol, moving as far away from them "as if you lacked money, I know you are 'Mr. B', there is no point in charging me for that."

"We don't need reasons to want you as our slave! If we want something we have it and you would be a great possession to us."

"Oh just go to hell, Chunzu, I don't care about you or your supposed leader Mokey, I'm asking for peace of mind! and I want you to take this as a warning."

You took a little momentum, doing a slight somersault on the table, you shot at the large window breaking the glass into small pieces, you ran towards the broken window to jump through it, the arms of Mochizuki and Rin trying to reach your body unsuccessfully, you spun in the air and fired one last time before your body was thrown from the top floor of the building, disappearing into the darkness of the night and the buildings.

The bullet made Mikey's dyed hair move slightly, a couple of cut strands slowly descending to the ground, everyone fell silent watching their leader look at the window you had thrown out of, Kokonoi snapping everyone out of their daze.

"Mikey…?"

"If she want to play that game we'll play, before it was a whim, but now it's a necessity, I want her here."

He turned now looking at the wall where the lead bullet had been nailed, brushing the hole and scratching slightly to remove the small object, he smiled observing the shape and caliber.

"Let's start… analyzing this."

He took one last look at his most trusted executives before walking off fiddling with the 10mm bullet, they all looked at each other with a new flame burning in their eyes, you're only making things worse, you should have run but it was too late to get rid of them.

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empress-hancock · 1 year

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I’m not a fan of the idea of having to be ideologically pure to critique anyone else but I’m even less of a fan of using misogyny to address any issues you might have. Stop. Stop it. Learn to not be misogynistic to women you disagree with. If you just disagreed it would be less of a huge deal but when you’re misogynistic about it it’s no longer a disagreement, it’s an attack. Cut! It! Out!! Misogyny has no place in radical feminism!! Of all of the things that could possibly be in conflict with radical feminism, misogyny is the most obvious. Bare fucking minimum. Do any of you really think that calling women PORN TERMS are more acceptable for radical feminists than dating a man? Like idc whether or not you think dating a man is too conflicting for radical feminism. All I care about is whether or not you think it’s worse than talking about a woman in a disgusting sexual manner. You should find talking about a woman like that as the most incompatible w/ radical feminism. Even if you think dating a man is incompatible you should be able to recognize that misogyny is very clearly the worse thing. Critiquing a woman’s choices is not inherently misogynistic but calling her slurs and using detailed descriptions of sex in your attacks is.

#okay I’m done with the discourse now because I don’t want to drag its corpse around behind me

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colibrie · 2 months

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Mosaic Moments

Prompt 3, Leo: Not made of stone.

Art by @trilobitepunch

3. Not made of stone (Leo, Casey Jr, brief Donnie cameo)

"Woooowe! Now that was a great run!" Leo exclaimed, chest heaving gently as he skidded to a stop. His muscles throbbed with a pleasant burn, chest gently heaving with the welcome effort of exertion. A thin veneer of sweat cleansed his skin, gently pulling at the slight breeze that blew by the roof.

"Hah yeah," Casy huffed as he came up from behind, face flushed and hair stuck to his face. The humans thin shoulders jumped as he folded over, hands braced on his knees as he sucked in deep breaths of air.

"You good bro?" Leo asked, only half teasing as he stretched his arms above his head, casually nudging Casey Jr with the side of his foot. "Way you're sucking wind someone would think you were the one stuck in bed for over a month and a half."

"Hey, not all of us get to be freaky strong mutants," Casey shot back, a broad grin taking any away any heat that may of existed as he pushed himself upright. "You definitely don't run like someone whose been bed ridden. Then again, you always did heal fast. It was useful for the resistance but it drove uncle Tello and Master Michelangelo crazy trying to keep Sensei in bed long enough to meet minimum rest standards."

The shift was barely perceptible. If he hadn't been raised by older versions of the turtle he was sure he would have missed it. The suble tightness that crept into the corners of Leo's smile, forcing them wider in a way that was to plastic to be genuine. The way the light in his eyes dimmed ever so slightly, even as he let out the perfectly light chuckle to cover.

"Yeah, future me is like six kinds of amazing. Must have been a crazy time."

"It was the apocalypse," Casey replied slowly, mentally trying to make sense of these shifts.

Had it been mentioning sensei? In the aftermath of the Krang invasion Leo had initially had a hard time hearing Casey mention his future counterpart. But they had worked through that. They had talked, under the cover of night when the rest of the lair had been at rest. He'd apologised to the younger turtle for putting so much pressure on him. Leo had accepted with apologies of his own, and had eventually coaxed him to give more details about his life with sensei, stories both good and bad. They'd laughed, they'd cried. They were good...weren't they?

"Must all seem pretty tame now in comparison," Leo said casually as he leaned into his stretch.

"Yes and no," Casey responded, watching carefully as he pushed his hair away from his face. "There's certainly less explosions, and the lack of zombie krang chasing us on our morning run is nice. But other things are crazy. Like how rich everyone is. Uncle Tello used to tell me stories about it, and he had a million folders of ideas and inventions that he'd imagined but lacked the materials to make. Seeing how easy it is to get things here, I get it now. He'd be over the moon, and probably lock himself in the lab for a whole year!"

There. A slight flinch, shoulders hiking a few centimeters up towards his tympanum.

"Heh, once an egghead always an egghead I guess. Anyway, we should-"

"Leo, what's wrong?"

"Uh...Nothing?" Leo replied questioningly. "I mean, I'm kinda hungry. Wanna swing by Run of the Mill on the way back? We can-"

"I thought we were past lying to each other," Casey challenged, a tiny bud of frustration building beneath his ribs as he pinned the turtle with a look.

"I'm not lying Cas, everything is fine now, right? Apocalypse averted, city is in repairs, everyone is healing, and Donnie finally paused updating the security system long enough to eat something other than caffeine and applesauce. Everyone is happy."

"You're avoiding my question. Master Michelangelo said you'd..."

He did not even need to look for the flinch this time. Leo turned away.

There was something here he was missing. Something in his words. But what? It wasn't like he'd never told red eared slider about the future. About the family he'd lost.

About Master Michelangelo.

About Uncle Tello.

About how...

"They all die!"

His heart hit the floor, stomach doing flips as he stared at the mosaic of barely healed pain spiderwebbed across Leonardo's shell. They had talked about a lot of things in the aftermath of the apocalypse, but they had never discussed what had happened in the tunnels beneath the tower. About the fate he'd revealed.

"They all die!"

"Every single one of them."

"The world needs Master Leonardo, and all we have is this guy."

"Leo, I... I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what man? Everything is fine." Leo replied, voice smoothly polished. He did not turn around.

"I've been talking about the future this whole time and..and we never really talked about it like that."

"Sure we have. You were telling me about it yesterday."

"I was talking about Sensei yesterday," Casey corrected, "we've only discussed the...others... once."

A falling pin could have sounded like a gun shot in the quiet that followed.

"There's nothing to talk about there," Leo said eventually.

Gone was the polish, the glitz and the glamorous glow of humor. Leo's tone was flat, a blank slate for this single fact to be engraved.

"I think there is," Casey replied carefully, biting his lower lip hard as he sought the for words that would fix the situation. "The way I told you about what happened to them was... not ideal..."

"Hey, you did what you needed to do to get the message through my thick skull. I don't hold it against you Casey. "

"Yeah, that's partially why I did it. But...I think I also did it because I was mad at you."

The atmosphere between them felt tense enough to explode, and Casey found himself tripping over his words in the haste to get them our before the fireworks could begin.

"I was angry at you for not being Sensei, and I was scared that I was going to fail the mission he and Master Michelangelo sacrificed everything to give me. The mission that could make uncle Tello and Raphel's death mean something. I threw their deaths in your face, and it was...I didn't mean to... I didn't think it would still be effecting you this badly..."

"You didn't think learning my whole family died because of my stupidity would effect me? Jeez Casey, I know I'm an self-centered idiot sometimes, but I'm not made of stone either. "

The words were light, but underneath them was brittleness, fine cracks poised to shatter at the next misstep.

"No!" Casey panicked, desperately backpedaling for the a way to sooth the hurts he'd intentionally and unintentionally afflicted. "I just meant that-"

The soft beeping of Leo's com cut him off mid sentance, and the young terrapin answered it before he could regather his scrambled thoughts.

"What's good Dee?"

"I need to go to the junkyard for some parts, but Raph won't let me go alone incase Repomantis "shows up for a showdown". To appease him I volunteered you for the buddy system. Tell Junior to head home and meet me there in ten minutes," Donatello replied, his voice that perfectly painful bend of familiar irritation, excitement, and affected disinterest.

There was something else there too. Something Casey had never had a name for beyond donnieandleo. He'd grown up hearing donnieandleo in good times and in bad. In the early hours when Sensei would grumble and drag the soft shell into his own bed to ensure he got at least four hours of uninterrupted rest. In the curses that had flown from his uncles lips when he'd fought to keep Sensei from bleeding out after amputating his arm. It was like a secrect code that only they could speak, one that remained uncracked up until the day his uncle had died.

Whatever Donnie was saying now, Leo read loud and clear.

"Fine, but you owe me a smoothie after. Extra large."

"Says the guy who still owes me pizza for that bet from last week."

"Uuuugg fine, but I'm gonna need some serious food to make up for this. On my way."

"Leo, we need to-"

"Sorry Case, duty calls," Leo cut in, never looking back as he walked towards the edge of the roof. "You head back and get some lunch. I know Mikey has a new recipe for you."

"Leo stop! Just let me explain."

"No need. Heard it loud and clear, I promise."

#rottmnt #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt casey jr #mosaic moments #angst fairy writes #should I continue this one?#leo angst

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lex9923 · 6 months

Text

Tw// SA

This will be my one and only official statement on this situation, because frankly I’m done with all of this mental hopscotch happening.

I am a sexual assault victim. I was the same age as Caiti is now when it happened, and I was cornered with his hands down my pants touching my vagina and up my shirt touching my boobs, while I tried to get away and make it stop. I still to this day don’t know who my attacker was, but it will follow me for the rest of my life. It’s been five years since then, and my story has not changed once. Not ever. I hadn’t told people for a couple years cause I thought since I didn’t know who my attacker was, I wouldn’t be believed. As well as the fact that I came forward about a sexual harassment I faced at a job and was met with “well, boys will be boys”. Through it all, I am here, and I survived.

Watching the reaction to this situation from both of the main parties involved, those who weren’t there, those who were, and the fans had sent me spiraling. I’ve spent the past two weeks reliving that trauma from five years ago cause I thought I misinterpreted my assault as something else. I had not, and never have. It’s been incredibly invalidating watching the alleged “victim” change the story multiple times, make fake texts, omit important information, all while not even listening to the person she accused of a criminally offensive act.

Caiti is absolutely allowed to feel uncomfortable and regret what happened after the fact, but it is not, and will not ever be assault-unless George actually did touch her boobs, and then that will be a different discussion, but with her credibility disappearing, I’ll only believe it if he admits it himself. I’m trying to extend grace to her being young, sexually inexperienced, and caught up in online culture, but it’s hard the longer this gets dragged out. There are things you do when approaching a situation like this:

1. You absolutely need to provide evidence and proof of your claims. You can’t prove something that never happened, but you can prove something that did. It’s why it’s innocent until proven guilty. Expecting people to blindly believe you is delusional at worst and ignorant at best.

2. You must absolutely have your story 100% correct and factual to how you perceived what happened, before bringing forth any accusations. Using purposefully charged language and then changing the story to match the one you accused is not it. Nor is changing your story yet again when people are catching on to the inconsistencies.

3. Allow the accused person to defend themself. You can’t expect people to listen to all of your claims-most of them blindly doing so-and then get upset when people wait for both sides to say their piece, especially when you present no evidence at your initial statement. Again, you have to prove guilt. If you can’t prove it, the accused are allowed to defend themself.

4. You are in no way obligated to accept apologies, but acknowledging one was made-multiple times in fact- is the bare minimum. Trying to change your story one last time to make it seem even worse than what you both agreed upon, and then hiding behind “I’m not going to address this anymore” is manipulative at worst and cowardly at best.

I hope Caiti gets therapy, cause it’s clear she’s been severely affected by something, though I’m not sure she even knows what it is. I also hope she learns from this, and next time utilizes the “direct message” function every single app has. This could have been a dm, and the way it spiraled has been a shitshow and her intentions are coming off less and less pure the more this gets dragged out. I’m so sorry she was uncomfortable, and regretful, but until she shows any proof whatsoever of any assault happening, it will never be. I hope she heals, and I hope she gets better friends cause they have all failed her.

For George, I’m sorry this got blown so out of proportion and no one even privately talked to him about any uncomfortability being felt. I’m sorry his friends are performative. I’m hopeful that he was made aware of things he wasn’t before, and will do better next time. He is not irredeemable, and I believe growth is possible (the difference in his two responses proves as such). I hope this isn’t the last we see of him or his content, and I hope he can heal from this as well.

To my fellow SA survivors, I’m so incredibly sorry that our trauma has been thrown around like this. Our hurt and pain do not deserve to be mocked in this way, and I wish it would’ve never even happened. You’re stronger than what happened, regardless of how shitty this situation has been for us. And as a 24 year old, I like to consider myself a big sister of sorts, so I love all of you. We got through it then, we’ll do it again.

Speaking woman to woman, I’m sorry this has been so messed up. This will make it harder for us to come forward in the future and that is indescribably frustrating. However, that does not take away from the pain and hurt we went through, and I hope if you do have the strength to come forward, you are believed.

I’m done with this whole situation. It should not have come to this point, and if you stayed this far, I greatly appreciate you reading this. One last time. Caiti, I’m sorry you were so uncomfortable. Get therapy, better friends, and take a break from the internet. George, I hope you learn from this situation, and I’m sorry you were made out to be a criminally offensive person before giving your side or anyone ever speaking to you.

I hope you both heal.

I hope sexual assault victims having to relive trauma, and are affected by this continue to heal.

I love you all.

Lex

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genericpuff · 4 months

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Have you seen the Webtoon "Working with an Editor" Video? I feel like this explains a lot of how the platform's Originals end up in the states that they do. Based on that vid, it seems their editors are less the developmental or copy types, and more acquisitions and managerial focused. Which explains how some series have "an editor" for editorial oversight, while not being what readers would consider "edited".

oh there are... definitely things about the editors I can tell you based on what I've read and even been told directly by some Originals creators (obviously their names are going to remain anonymous here lol) Before I go into it, every editor and every contract is different, I have no way of actually knowing what goes on behind the scenes due to not being an Originals creator myself, so please take what I'm about to say with mountains of salt as much of it was either learned secondhand through creator AMA's and at best, firsthand through anonymous Originals creators who I've communicated directly with. Ultimately you should be getting your facts from the creators who actually speak up on this matter, not me.

1.) WT has a VERY small pool of editors who are currently being stretched incredibly thin. Bre Boswell, as an example, currently oversees 20+ comics, including Lore Olympus (though not anymore haha), Nevermore, The Kiss Bet, Down to Earth, and Castle Swimmer. She is not the only one with this big of a workload. Obviously with one person having to oversee this many series at once, it's virtually impossible for them to do the actual "editing" part of their jobs, even if they genuinely want to.

2.) The role of WT editor isn't the same as a traditional editor - many of them are simply liasons between creators and Webtoons, meaning any questions creators have about their schedules, salaries, etc. are directed to their editors who then contact WT on their behalf and relay the response back to the creators. The bare minimum requirement for their job seems to be just making sure that creators are following terms of services. The traditional role of editing - proofreading, offering advice and storytelling tweaks, etc. - seems to be entirely optional and dependent on how much time the editor can devote to the series (see #1) + how much creative input the creator is willing to accept.

3.) With how low WT's standards are and how overworked a lot of editors have become, many editors actually stop reading their respective comics after the first few episodes once they're confident that the creator can handle the series on their own without needing check-ups that they're following ToS. So in that respect they truly do just become messenger owls between the creators and WT (and IIRC creators send their episodes to their editors to upload, they don't do it manually themselves). This is also why there are webtoons that share the same editor but differ greatly in quality of writing and art - how well a webtoon is written and drawn is often entirely dependent on the creators making it (it's why Nevermore manages to be so consistently good despite having the same editor as Lore Olympus which is consistently awful lmao).

As an added little thing, I will not say who, but there is a specific editor who... often gets a looot of special treatment from WT, from what I've been told and heard. A lot of their series get away with way more than what others do and get a lot more advertising privileges.

(and no, it's actually not Bre LOL from what I've been told Bre is actually a very sweet person who's very chill to work with haha)

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #webtoon critical

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coralinnii · 2 years

Note

You don’t have to do this right away but Part two for idia? Its okay if you dont feel like doing it, just remember to rest and take breaks!

"If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice" feat: Idia genre: drama notes: sequel to “being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy” Idia ver., roughly 1.2k word count, mentions of blo*d, d*ath, and life-threatening situations, is there a gn equivalent of a himbo? cuz slight himbo!reader energy, unspecified beasts,

Finally, it’s here! The long-awaited villain/ess au sequel to the final housewarden (sorry Idia and Idia simps). Admittedly, this is not so much romantic as more fleshing out of their story :p whoops. I might make a continuation of the aftermath of this but I felt like this is a decent stopping point for now.

Since accepting his growing feelings with you, Idia has been on an emotional roller coaster where he likes being around you but being around you makes him nervous to the point of almost puking. He finds himself glowing, both metaphorically and literally whenever you drop by and it doesn’t help when you seem to enjoy his personal space, seeing as you always bring yourself into said space.

He knew that if he voiced his discomfort, you would make your best effort to distance yourself but the mere idea of that doesn’t make him feel too happy either. He’s grown accustomed to seeing your eyes sparkle at his new innovations, your warmth as you scoot closer to him on the couch, your voice when you share your random thoughts and questions

“Have you ever dreamt of your own death?”

Ok, maybe he’s not too accustomed to everything you say

For a while now, you’ve experienced dreams that seem to burn themselves into your memories, forcing you to remember every detail as though the world compels you to. These dreams showed you snippets of life that seemed so real and scarily bears similarity to the real world. Your dreams foretold events in the near future which used to scare you to the point you begged your siblings to stay with you at night, assuring you it meant nothing.

In truth, you wondered if you were given a strange and powerful gift but one thing about your visions stopped that train of thought. In your dreams, you tend to behave and act in ways you never would. The you in these dreams was spoiled and mean, especially to the Shroud family which you could never bring yourself to do in a million years. Because of that, you assumed your strange visions to be your imagination going wild. An alternative reality that didn’t happen.

But for the past few weeks, you were visioning your terrible end taking place in an expedition alongside your brother. You saw yourself perish at the hands of a feral beast with your brother then seeing your sister cry over your body and proclaiming to avenge your deaths, believing it to be the doing of the Shroud family.

“What a strange dream, right?” You laughed in hopes to play off the absurdity of it all. “It’s just that…I've been seeing that dream more often now. I guess I’m more nervous about the expedition than I realise”

If it were someone else, you may have been considered strange or even going crazy. You thought Idia would see you that way or at best, try to convince you that it was nothing more than a wild fantasy, like your family does.

But Idia was not a typical man.

To be fair, you were not a typical person to him either. If it were anyone else, Idia wouldn’t care less about their troubles or at best, do the bare minimum to get them off his back. But it was the person who unknowingly stole his heart and watching you visibly affected by your disturbing visions persuaded him to seriously consider your words.

“Tell me everything you saw”

And lucky he did.

Your father taught you a lot of things. How to swing your sword with gusto, to grit your teeth and dig in your heels when anticipating a blow, and to stand your ground no matter the odds. But he never told you how painful a racing heart can be or how loud the sound of blood rushing through your system is. Although, you supposed you can forgive him since he would never want to imagine you coming face-to-face to a deranged beast as your own blood blurred your vision.

During your expedition, you and your siblings encountered a group of disorientated beasts and while this was nothing new to you, these creatures were more unpredictable in comparison to your previous encounters with this species. It was as though they were fighting something internally and your squadron was unfortunately caught in the crossfire. The large beasts were demolishing things in their vicinity, indiscriminately knocking down anything and anyone without care.

Their unpredictable attacks ultimately led to one of them taking a vicious swing towards you and your brother, sending you both over a tall cliff with the large beast tumbling after from the force of its own attack.

You vividly recalled this scene, as it was foretold in your dreams. You were trapped and wounded with your brother unconscious after taking the brunt of the attack when shielding you. You willed yourself to keep a strong grip on your sword. If your dreams truly turn to reality, you and your brother will meet an untimely end here.

“Great heavens, give me strength to protect my brother” you prayed as you took one more long breath before letting out a feral roar.

You ran full speed towards the rampaging beast, putting all your strength into your swing to sever its leg, hoping to incapacitate its movement. Unfortunately, your depleted strength and eyesight left your attempt with a sizable wound but not enough to deter the giant.

Your blood has now ran cold as you realise the severity of your situation. Partially blinded and hurt, you were helpless in front of the deranged beast. Your tears mixed with the blood that cascaded over your eyes but you thought there was no use in wiping away the mess on your face.

In your fearful madness, you thought you might as well make your last moment memorable. You turned your head towards the sky, intending to stare at the beast with as much defiance, refusing to show fear towards any foe.

But something was odd

Since the encounter with the beasts, they were nothing but aggressive monsters, agitated and reckless in motion and action. Every moment with them was spent defending yourself from their endless attacks.

So why does it seem peaceful?

Even with a wound on its leg, the beast’s body was relaxed like it was in pure relief from whatever was ailing them. If you weren’t just glad you’re still alive, you might have been a little offended by the lack of interest the beast had on you.

With the rush of adrenaline slightly fading, you started taking notice of your senses a bit more, your injuries were being recognised, you felt the burn in your legs from the stress…and you felt a strange sensation on your wrist.

Looking down, you found the source to be the beast radar device made by Idia. You found it strange since it wasn’t nearly this hot even when you first came in contact with the beasts earlier but now, the device was evidently warm and you could sense an aura-like energy being emitted from it. You weren’t confident but you wondered if Idia added something more to your device. And it was affecting the beast before you.

Daring to test your theory, you slowly stepped back from the beast, angling your wrist further from the beast, observing the facial changes of the creature. True to your hypothesis (but unfortunately so), the beast’s body started shaking as though something unpleasant had returned to it. You wanted to celebrate your eureka moment but acknowledged this may not be the best time.

Then, like a gallant warrior, a figure appeared seemingly from the heavens and with a swift motion, speared the beast’s head from above. The creature let out a final painful roar before crashing down before your feet. You looked above to see your sister perched atop the beast, covered in sweat and blood.

Your sister jumped from her position and ran to you, encasing you in a tight embrace. You noticed how your sister was shaking with palpable fear.

“You’re alive. Thank the heavens you’re both alive” your usually level-headed sister cried into your sister as she wrapped her arms tighter, which you’re impressed she still could.

Although, you were grateful for the embrace as you felt your legs give out under you from exhaustion. Your sister worriedly called out your name as she supported your weight but incredibly, you just let out a laugh.

Against the odds and contrary to your haunting dreams, you were alive.

Was it strange you thought of Idia when you realised that?

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst scenarios #twst imagines #villainess au #idia shroud #idia x reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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