#that's basically how i feel w this theory

[welcometogrouchland]

It is an inch resting thread that Zdarky's been playing with recently that Bruce is potentially getting older and weaker. It may or may not be undercut by scenes like the infamous "Bruce falls from the moon and lives bc He's Batman" but I haven't been an avid reader of the main batman title so I can't attest to that.

Because the thing is, that sort of narrative usually implies a mantle transfer, it foreshadows succession. Of course it's not the only thing it could mean but I'd say that's what's most common.

But I doubt Zdarsky would make Dick batman again. He's clearly a fan of the Morrison era (hence his heavy use of Zur En Arrh) but Dick's title is one of DC's big money makers rn, and while they've announced the end of Tom Taylor's run soon, they've basically said that the nightwing title is going to continue (either at issue 1 or from TT's numbering onward)

And considering how little focus or appreciation Zdarky's given Cass (she usually only shows up for a panel or two at a time and has had one of her most consistent character traits- her spectacular fighting skills- undermined in order to, again, play into BatGod Bruce) I doubt she's the successor he's foreshadowing

Damian's still too young, Zdarsky doesn't care about Duke, Jason's a no for obvious reasons imo

The only batfamily member that Zdarky's given any substantial focus too- and in fact has had a LOT of focus on in his run-is Tim...

And I know it's deeply unlikely, for a lot of reasons. But part of me can't help but quake in fear at the idea...

...that Zdarsky is setting Tim up to be batman after Bruce

[dreamsy990]

ch4 spoilers if you haven't. been there i find it really fun how in deltarune susie is the consistent like. video game rule breaker (see: not being able to equip certain armors, not being able to unequip an armor unless you're replacing it, ralsei's room, and just many other little things). and i do wonder if this will continue forth for the prophecy & such. will susie intentionally or accidentally break out of the prophecy and cause a different ending? cause i feel like deltarune is going in the direction of oh your fate is decided by these texts. but like that could be. wrong. idk.

on one hand i hate to be one of the people thats saying toby was lying about there being one ending, on the other youre so right. because the way deltarune is set up it FEELS like its meant to be a narrative about determinism and subverting fate. and susies kinda the catalyst for a lot of that. especiallyyyy w the theory shes not the monster referenced in the prophecy.

im sure someones said this before but i like the idea that the snowgrave route is the intention of the prophecy. "love finds its way to the girl" or whatever the line was being a reference to LV. the idea that the main route of deltarune would be subverting fate while the snowgrave route is doing "what youre supposed to" is really cool to me idk.

with the way the game is setting up the idea of choices not mattering, it feels like its meant to be subverted. sooo much of this game is about defiance to me like every aspect of this game is full of ideas of doing what youre not supposed to. it just feels right for the prophecy to either not come true, or come true on a technicality (like reinterpreting the vague parts, i.e. turning "love finds its way to the girl" into being about a romance instead of LV).

anyways. yeah thoughts. idk how its gonna end but ill like the ending either way so im just here for the ride

[thepandalion]

finally watched the latest Severance episode

what the fuck

[pinacoladamatata]

Not sure if it's reassuring to me that several people on twitter coming forth to state they've played part of the game saying the actual gameplay maintains that dark fantasy feel, or if it's making me more suspicious

[pixlokita]

Sooo... Help Wanted 2 is out... What are your opinions on it? Who do you think we are playing as? Personally I think we are playing as Cassie's dad but it's okay if you have different opinion!

(Also Happy birthday to Security Breach btw (What makes me feel very old is that Security Breach came out when I was 11... I'm almost 14 at this point...) )

I honestly am so lost right now. I’ve tried to make sense of the game but after what happened with ruin I’m scared to get anything wrong =w= personally I’d like to hear more of the Helpy lore :’> like what did that lil guy even do xD

[femme-enby]

Tbh my hair ain’t turn out bad.

Got an odd little patch- as is the norm for me I fear- that didn’t quite get truly saturated but I’m tellin myself that despite bein at the front it ain’t that noticeable.

Not the “soaked in blood” red I was goin for, but I think it’s a decent “blood red” (so, while the goal was basically ‘showered in blood’ w that “wet dark” vibe, instead I got ‘is blood’ in the sense of just… color picked blood. If that makes sense??) which is close enough for an attempt w the wrong “main” color (gotta read shit more carefully)

Downside is- I smell like fuckin cherries w a hint of strawberry, mint, & then a tiny bit of general ‘fruity’ if you sniff real hard.

[kisses4reid]

protect | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

summary - you get badly injured on a case, and the hospital visit ruins your surprise.

genre - fem!bau!reader x spencer, hurt/comfort, little bit of angst and arguing, fluff, happy ending!! reader can bear children (has female anatomy)

warnings - pregnancy, major injuries, mentions of gross hospital things, r uses she/her pronouns, usual criminal minds violences

w/c - 2.2k

a/n - thank u for the request! loved the idea immediately and this is the first time i’m writing abt pregnancy and stuff so pls do not quote me on anything!!! also this writing isn’t my best, sorry abt that. okay bye have fun reading

request - (@ursuu-la) hihihi idk if you're taking requests, but what if u write something where Spencer and a fem reader are dating and she's pregnant, but she's kinda scared(? or nervous to tell Spencer. And maybe she could tell it to one of the girls of the team to find a way of approaching Reid, but then she gets hurt or something happens to her in a case.

“Oh. My. God.”

You turned your attention from the open manila folder to Garcia’s multiple screens, searching each one for something important, “What?”

“Y/n M/n Reid. You’re pregnant?” Garcia spun in her chair with an angry expression while pointing a ringed finger at the main computer screen. It was your medical history - which you allowed her to search so she could experiment with a new hacking technique - but you had forgotten about your recent discovery.

Your hand was clamped over your mouth as you stared in shock and started rambling through your fingers, “Garcia. I swear, nobody knows - I wasn’t keeping this from just you,” you placed your hands on her shoulders when she stood up in disappointment, sending her office chair to collide with the desk, “Spencer doesn’t even know, please Garcia. Don’t tell anyone.”

Your eyes searched hers for a promise or compromise, but instead you got welling tears.

“Garcia?”

“Y/n, your pregnant with a little Reid! This is amazing- How come you haven’t told him? I’ll have a new little nephew or niece! Y/n!” She squealed and took your hands to spin you in a circle in her small office. You immediately felt nauseous and slowed the excited girl, her hair accessories threatening to fall off in her happiness. You held your stomach and whispered,

“No spinning, I’ll throw up.”

She glanced to her computer screens and shut them down immediately, sitting back down and taking a deep breath. “This is great! Right? Please tell me this is great, you’re already 6 weeks pregnant.”

You bit your lip and nodded, “I mean, I think it’s great but..” You lost yourself in thought.

Last year when you and Spencer got married, you had talked about starting a family many times. But every time you both agreed to wait a few more years in order to save up more money and maybe move into a bigger apartment or even a house. This was not what you planned.

Spencer liked having a plan, it was one thing you grew to love. He was organised and, due to his amazing memory, remembered everything, especially everything about you. And though you two had grown so close you were basically one person, this was the only time you had no idea how Spencer would react if he found out your secret.

“I don’t know how to tell Spencer.”

Garcia grinned, but it was quickly wiped away when she noticed a certain figure in the doorway. You spun on your heel, heart attacking your ribs. Luckily, it was not your husband, but your boss. He stood sternly and started, “We’ve got a case, wheels up in 30.”

You nodded and turned back to Garcia, all she did was wave and whisper, “I’ll text you.”

In the plane, you sat next to Spencer in the aisle seat, stomach feeling queasy and phone vibrating non-stop in your back pocket. You pinched the bone between your eyebrows and squinted at the case files that Hotch had quickly gone over. Morgan was spilling some theories, Prentiss backing him up, when Spencer lowered his head and whispered in your ear, “Are you okay? You seem tired.”

You put on a small smile and nodded, the fact that Spencer had noticed something wrong meant that the rest of the team would notice soon too. You raised yourself and squeezed Spencer’s hand that had been in your lap. You murmured a small excuse me to Hotch and excused yourself to the plane’s toilet.

Spencer began to get worried for your health. The past week and a half, you’d been eating less and then more, and then you’d say you felt sick, and then you were full of energy. You cancelled plans, you slept more, and you had started avoiding Spencer. You were getting sick, and distant, and he hated how you wouldn’t let him help you whenever he asked. He furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head slightly, attempting to focus on the profile.

Sat on the toilet, ready to double over into the bathroom sink, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through Garcias texts.

What about a baby onesie with Daddy’s favourite child on it?

What about a candle lit dinner?

What about donuts that spell out ‘I’m Pregnant!’

I’ve seen people purposefully burn bread and wait until their husbands understand, maybe that?

Maybe. But right now, that was not what you wanted to think about. On top of the case and the whole pregnancy situation, your symptoms were becoming harder to conceal.

A whole day of analysis, interrogating, leads and dead ends led you to a one story run down house with broken windows and an overgrown yard. You threw the FBI bullet vest over your shoulders as Spencer approached you with a tight smile. His hair was shorter these days, after he finally let you start cutting it, but nothing could change his attractiveness. His cologne wafted into your senses as he went behind you, tightening your vest and patting your back and waist down to make sure you were at optimal safety.

You could almost imagine he knew you were pregnant.

“Remember, if he’s in there, keep your distance. He’s a big guy but silent, and not all there.” He furrowed his eyebrows as he did a last check over of your vest, belt, and the position of your gun. You smiled and nodded,

“I know, Spence. I’ve been here too.”

He sighed and nodded, placing a small kiss on your cheek as a good luck.

You were married, but there was no guarantee you’d both make it out of any case. Every movement could be your last, and every interaction could be your last together.

Morgan slipped through the door after a man picked the front doors lock, Prentiss behind him and you behind her. After you, followed Hotch and Spencer.

“Clear!” Morgan called from the kitchen. You turned right down a hallway, Prentiss disappearing into a small room on the right and yelling,

“Clear!”

You entered the small bedroom, gun high and steps careful. It was an adults bedroom, maybe a teenager. There was posters of horror movies, a thin mattress on the floor and shelves of books and wooden cupboard holding what you believed to be clothes.

“Clea-“

The wind got knocked out of you, your shoulder colliding with the wall to your left and a sharp handle being jabbed into your side, as you plummeted against the floor and hearing a loud thump and shattering glass beside you. Miniscule, rainbow, dots clouded your vision, the adrenaline and the concussion you were sure you had numbing the pain coursing through your veins. You screamed in pain, Hotch entering almost immediately.

You lifted your right arm to point out the window, the glass shattered from where the unsub had escaped.

Spencer entered the room in a rush, eyes running over the fallen cupboard that would've been taller than the both of you, and then your small body in the corner. You held out your arm for him, and he placed his hands under your armpits, jolting back when you screeched in pain. "Y/n, your..." His eyes widened in shock and fear at the sight of your dislocated shoulder. Your right hand clutched to your left side - no doubt trying to comfort a massive bruise or worse.

He gulped, helping you up and throwing your good arm around his shoulders. The sudden movements blanked your vision for a few moments, a small lump forming on the front left side of your temple, and your legs trembled in the sudden need to hold yourself up. "Y/n, we just need to get you to the ambulance, alright?" Spencer told you reassuringly. He didn't know how much you could understand, your eyes were cloudy and your movements spaghetti-like, but he continued to reassure you anyways.

The paramedics set into action as soon as they saw your near limp body strung across Spencer's taller build. You were placed in the ambulance on a bed and before you knew it, there was a heavy clamp on your finger and two paramedics touching you and saying unexplainable things to each other. A short one with a beard came close to your vision, obvious aware it was still slightly blurred, "Agent Y/n. We need to take your shirt off in order to fix your shoulder okay? We need to pop it back in as quick as we can."

All you could do is nod, Spencer making most of the choices for you as your husband - he wouldn't put you through something he knew you would disagree with. They asked him questions, and while the voices came in and out of focus, the adrenaline was wearing off and suddenly your senses heightened. "Is she pregnant?"

The question rolled off the paramedics tongue like a rehearsed poem, and Spencer shook his head like there was no possible way you were. But as you saw needles being prepared, your heart started pounding so fast it got the attention of the professionals. "Y/n, are you still with us?"

To Spencer, you looked like you had just woken up to a bad dream, but there was something deeper - you were not unconcious, if anything you looked alert.

"I'm pregnant." The paramedics glanced at each other and Spencer's eyes widened. The one with the needle placed it down carefully on a table, and before you knew it, you were being pushed through hallways and into a awfully bright room.

You passed out, fear and exaustion catching up to you. But Spencer couldn't sleep. On top of the fact that his wife had just gotten her shoulder dislocated and then fixed, and a slight rib fracture, she was also pregnant.

Spencer doubted for the first half hour of waiting for you to wake up that you actually were. You were saying nonsense, you were injured and the adrenaline... usually causes people to tell the truth. He paced and went over everything that had been happening. The change in your behaviour, the tiredness, the sickness. It was all coming together like a puzzle, and he wondered why he didn't realise sooner.

"Spence?" A small voice called out, and he approached the hospital bed almost immediately.

"Y/n." Spencer smiled in relief, overjoyed that you were alright and breathing. He knew you'd be fine, but anything can be unpredictable. Anyone can be unpredictable. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"What happened?" You tried to sit up but Spencers soft hands encouraged you to stay laying down.

"The unsub pushed a cabinet at you. You collided with the wall and dislocated your shoulder." He explained softly, the doctors told him that the specific pain killers they gave you may cause some loopiness. "Oh." You whispered, eyes searching his face like you had never seen it before, and you smiled. You were here, and he was here, and you needed nothing more. Other than more pain killers.

Spencer bit his lip, and sighed, not sure if it was the right time to bring the blindside up at that moment.

"Y/n, darling, are you... pregnant?"

The small grin wiped off your face and you took some deep breaths, nodding and avoiding his gaze in fear of rejection. Spencer sighed, and pushed his hair away from his face, a smile rising onto his cheeks. Tears welled in his eyes from happiness. "This is great, this is... wow Y/n, I can't believe.." He gulped, "I can't believe you didn't tell me sooner."

Confusing his disbelief for anger, tears started dropping down your cheeks as you sat in silence. Spencer started to worry, "Do you... not want to have a baby with me? Or at all? Do you think I won't be a good father? I know that I've had my problems in the past but I promise I can be a good father-"

"Spencer." You called his name in shock, heart aching over his insecure questions. "I do want a baby, especially one with you. And I don't think you'll be a good father, I know you'll be a great one. I just," you wiped your cheeks and he sat down in a chair beside your bed, taking your hand in his. "I'm scared. I thought that you wouldn't want to have one right now because of our... plan. This is really early and we didn't get to save- and- I thought you'd be mad-" You had started blubbering now, the heart monitor becoming a ticking time bomb for a full on breakdown, before Spencer took your face in his hands and smashed your lips onto his.

He pulled back, smile wide, eyes full of adoration and sorrowfullness.

"Y/n, I don't care about that plan anymore. And I'm not mad." He searched your eyes with his, "I just wished you told me earlier. Maybe you wouldn't have been injured, because god knows I wouldn't have let you go out into the field."

"Spencer, I'm so sorry." You sniffled, placing your other hand on top of his.

"Oh, darling. You don't have to be sorry. I've made my injured and pregnant wife cry, I should be sorry."

You giggled, and leant forward to kiss him on the nose. "So it's really okay?"

"Of course. You just have to heal quickly, and I'll do all the rest."

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m

[krispdreemurr]

cannot lie i don't love how toriel is being shown drinking a single time and a sizable part of the fandom is like " TORIEL IS AN ALCOHOLIC WHO DOESNT CARE ABOUT KRIS " like Dude. what is shown is incredibly irresponsible yes but this is. I feel like some of us are taking it a bit further than it really is

mmm I mean the thing is we have seen evidence before she has issues with alcohol. like, she cares about Kris, and I don't think she's like completely at the ruining her life level, but. things like:

-the Undertale alarm clock stuff where her son finds her passed out drunk and gets her water and isn't that surprised

-the queen-is-everyone's-mom theory with her having that scene where she basically drunkenly leans on Kris and talks about how they're the only one she can count on

-all the party animal stuff, but that Could be fine if not for the rest

-...and Kris just looking away, ashamed, and then walking around her when she collapses.

i don't think she is Constantly Always Drunk, but I think Kris has past memories of her having bad nights where she ended up relying on them emotionally, physically, or both, and they've ended up w an understandable aversive reaction. your mom doesn't need to get drunk Every night for you to learn that you don't like her when she's drunk, y'know

she cares for Kris. she is mostly a good mom. kris doesn't like seeing her like that and has some painful memories. those things can all be true

[muwapsturniolo]

✯Want to play Psycho Killer?✯

BLACK READER!!!!!!!

Summary: Chris realizes his girlfriend has a thing for a certain masked killer, and feeds into her fantasy.

warning: NSFW content, thirsting after Ghostface, CNC (kind of lmao) unprotected sex, whatever kink it is where you get fucked while the other person wears a mask, overstimulation, choking, vibrators, titty slapping, squirting,

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Chris was a very attentive boyfriend.

He noticed everything about his girlfriend. He noticed how her eyes crinkled when she smiled, how her nose would scrunch when she laughed. He noticed how she would stick her tongue out when she was focused on something.

He was attentive.

So attentive to the point that he noticed she would clench her thighs and take deep breaths when watching a certain movie.

That movie being Scream.

He decided to turn on Scream one day since he and his brothers were going to the premier of the fifth movie in a few weeks. It was his girl's favorite movie, and he'd never seen it, so he figured it would be a great date night. As they watched the first movie, he noticed she kept moving around, adjusting the way she was sitting.

"You ok?" He asked her. All she did was nod and keep watching the movie. The next date night they watched the second movie, it was the same thing but a bit toned down.

Same with the third, and the fourth.

he had a theory that she loved the first movie more than the others.

He decided to test his theory one last time by turning on the first movie once again.

His theory was proven when she basically jumped him midway through the movie, and they had sex on the couch.

His theory was proven once again when he saw her bookmarks on TikTok. Multiple videos of guys in Ghostface masks, choking their girlfriends.

He knew what she wanted, and he planned on giving it to her.

For his plan to work, he had to get her alone. He had texted her around 30 minutes ago and asked if she was home. He proceeded to tell her he was coming over and to relax when she sees him.

He didn’t know if she would freak out or not, but he had a feeling she would play along.

He unlocks her front door and walks inside, closing it softly. He pulls the mask over his head and slowly ascends up the stairs, being quiet so she won't hear him. He peeks into her room and sees her lying down on her stomach, distracted by her phone. She had on a thong and one of her babydoll dresses. He inches into the room, coming up behind her.

She feels a presence looming behind her. Before she can look over her shoulder, her head is roughly pushed into the comforter. She screams in shock and drops her phone, thrashing around in fright.

He yanks her head up by her hair and whispers from behind the mask,

“Want to play psycho killer?”

She tenses hearing Chris’s voice. She looks into the reflection of her lamp on her nightstand and sees he’s on top of her, a mask covering his face.

But not just any mask

A Ghostface mask.

“W-what?” She stutters out, too caught off guard to understand anything.

“I said, do you want to play psycho killer?” He flips them around and kicks her legs apart, his right hand moving up her thigh, getting dangerously close to her embarrassingly wet cunt. He allows his hand to move her thong to the side and swipe through her folds, gathering her glistening juices on his finger. She whimpers and tries to close her legs, failing due to him being in the way. He smirks under the mask and tilts his head to the side.

"You can be the helpless victim."

He slips two fingers into her, watching as her eyes gently flutter shut. He glides his finger in and out, teasing her by moving slowly. Soft moans and whimpers tumbling out of her plump lips. He picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster. His left-hand travels up to her neck and tightly wraps around it, "come on baby, say the next line." He urges.

It's nearly impossible for her to speak. The way his long and nimble fingers nudge against the right spot constantly, his left hand squeezing her throat like she loves.

"Please?" She weakly pleads. Chris chuckles and yanks her upright and forward, a noise leaving her throat. "that's not what I want to hear baby, you know your line."

His fingers move even faster, "how are you going to be in the sequel if you can't even remember your lines?" he taunts.

She throws her head back and moans out, feeling her orgasm close.

"Say it or I stop right now!" he threatens.

"Fuck! Please d-dont kill me Mr. Ghostface! I want to be in the sequel!" she pleads helplessly.

"Since you asked so nicely." He begins to ram his fingers into her, curling them repeatedly. Not caring if she could feel his lips or not, she begins to make out with him. Her red lipstick smudges all over the mouth of the mask.

Making out with your boyfriend who is dressed up as a masked serial killer? it's not the most erotic thing they have done, but it is the most taboo.

He feels her walls clenching around his fingers and he presses his thumb against her clit, rubbing it in circles. She yelps and throws her head back as her orgasm washes over her.

Instead of removing his fingers, he keeps going, stroking her velvety walls. "Shi-Chris wait!'' She tries to push his hand away, but he forces her down and keeps going. She withers and whines at the overstimulation, her thighs shaking as he continues the assault on her clit.

It hits her fast, her eyes clenching shut and her back arching.

He removes his fingers and yanks her closer by her legs. She watches with hazy eyes as he begins to pull his pants down, just enough for him to release his aching dick.

Usually, he would give her a few moments to regain her strength, but he doesn't want her to.

He wants to fuck her to the brink of exhaustion.

"Chris ple- nghhh" he cuts her off by slipping into her, her walls sucking him up just right. He snaps his hips, pulling a high-pitched squeal from the girl beneath him. A devious smirk crosses his face as he drills his hips against hers.

He's relentless in his action, going hard and deep. "Don't act like you don't want it. if you didn't want it you wouldn't have been getting turned on by a fucking movie." He taunts in a raspy voice.

All she can do in return is moan and open her legs wider, proving him correct. He grabs her calves, pushing her legs closer to her chest, going even deeper than before.

This position only lasts a few minutes until she's creaming all over him, her body spazzing at the overwhelming sensation. Her eyes are clenched shut, her chest rising and falling quickly as she tries to regain her breath.

Her body lurches feeling a strong vibration on her clit. Her eyes fly open and she sees Chris holding her rose toy against her clit. She can't get any words out, only pathetic moans and small screams as it all becomes too much for her. He begins to thrust once again, adding even more pleasure.

"Fuck- look at you taking me so well. I knew you would. I saw the way you would squeeze your legs together, and now you're squeezing me the same way, such a fucking whore." He groans, his hips stuttering in the process. He's close to cumming but he wants to wait for her last orgasm.

He looks at her, taking in her fucked out face. The makeup she had on now ruined, from the tears of pleasure running down her face.

He turns the vibration up, drawing a loud scream from the girl, her thighs clenching as her fourth orgasm rushes through her core. He chuckles and pulls out, leaning forward so he can whisper in her ear, "You're doing so well for me, maybe you will be in the sequel." He runs his finger through her sensitive folds, making her whine out.

he smirks at the noise and slaps her clit, a choked moan leaving her throat. He chuckles and sits up, pulling her with him. "you gonna give me one more?" she shakes her head, too sensitive to have another orgasm. He shakes his head with her, mocking her as he laughs softly.

"Yes you can, and you will."

He slaps her cunt once again, before forcing her into his favorite position.

Face down, ass up.

He looks at her ass, rubbing his hands over it as her Grool runs down her leg. He lands a smack to her ass, enjoying the yelp that tumbles from her raw lips. She tries to pull away from him but he gently yanks her back, "Stop running baby, I'll go slow. Is that what you want?" he coos. She responds with a weak hum of agreement.

He lines himself up, slipping back inside her warm velvety walls.

Her eyes roll into the back of her head, her fingers weakly gripping her bedding tightly.

He moves slowly at first, dragging out his thrust, before pushing deep inside her, nudging against her cervix. She whimpers at the feeling, trying to pull away as this whole session becomes too much for her. He plants his hands on her waist, gripping her harshly as he pulls her back on his dick. he speeds up, all thoughts of going slow out the window. She reaches back behind her and tries to stop the assault against her aching walls.

"Why are you running baby, this is what you wanted right? You wanted me to fuck you, dressed up like a killer."

She whines and weakly tries to push him away.

He grunts and smacks her arm away, " You can take it, be a good girl, and take it." She tries to push him away once again.

Out of frustration, he grabs her torn-up thong and yanks both her arms behind her, tying her wrists together.

He uses her bound wrists as an anchor and starts plowing into her harder than he ever has before. Her body lurches forward with each thrust, shaking and arching deeper into the mattress.

Her sobs fill the room, matching each and every single one of his harsh movements. He grabs a fistful of her hair, yanking her up and pressing their bodies together. He harshly grabs her breasts, twisting her nipples before landing a hard smack to the bouncing flesh. She lets out a mix of a sob and a moan. He pants and moans in her ear as he sneaks the vibrator towards her clit.

A burning sensation swelled at the pit of her stomach, snapping just as quick as it came.

She lets out a horror movie-like scream, and propels herself forward, landing face-first in the sheets. Her vision goes black as her juices splash beneath them.

Chris groans at the sight of squirting and quickly fills her up, his seed spilling out of her as he pulls out.

He grabs his phone and opens up the camera, hitting record. He grabs her hair and lifts her head up, shoving the camera in front of her.

Her eyes are halfway closed, her makeup smeared as if she has caught in the rain, and there's drool running out the corner of her mouth.

she was fucked out just like he wanted her to be.

"Smile gorgeous, you're going to be in the sequel."

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

I have such a thing for Ghostface it's honestly concerning😭 like i fr made my old sneaky link wear the mask one day 🤪

TAGLIST🍑

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[anthurak]

So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.

Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.

Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:

Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.

Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.

Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…

As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.

Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.

What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.

However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.

Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.

And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.

Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.

And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.

[simbiotictears]

LnDs boys if they were an Idol!boy group: relationship status

this is a part 2 to this post! since they live rent free in my head.

F! reader mostly

Leader + Main Rapper: Zayne

(Married/engaged, Idol x normal person)

Zayne doesn't mention his relationship status at all, but (I believe) he wears a ring on his wedding finger. He moves it to his right hand when he's on stage or working. It actually is his wedding ring. Fans hypothesise it to be a partner or a band thing...since all the guys wear a ring of sorts (aside from Xavier because he keeps losing his).

The company made him do a birthday stream and you brought over the cake. Obviously, the fans couldn't see your face buuutttt they saw your hands and the matching ring. This made some eagle-eyed fans search up the meaning of the crystal and make theory posts online about Zayne being married. Others bought their own copies and posted pictures of them wearing it on their social media.

He, like Rafayel, is very much a 'it's none of their business' kind of person. In an interview where they had to talk about their ideal type, he was the vaguest (bro basically described a blank canvas). He really is just trying to get his bag and leave. He could have a whole child, and the world would not know (which I respect so much).

In the behind the scenes of a game show, where they all had to interact with kids, he was the best with the kids, and it had the fans suspecting that he is a father.

Zayne, outside of work, is a good partner. He brings back souvenirs from every country he goes on tour to. He can become a bit aloof and forget to text for periods of time, but you never have to worry about his loyalty. He will call you whenever he has the free time. He has known you forever and actually became an idol because you used to admire a lot of boy groups when you were growing up together.

He misses you if he is away for too long. In those moment, when he really misses you, he calls you and will fall asleep on the phone.

You bring the boys food a lot of the time, and you are close with the other members. The members often say that Zayne becomes a different person when he is with you, in a good way.

The wedding was very private: the members attended, close friends and family. It was a great time. None of those photos made it online, thank goodness.

Main Dancer + Lead Vocalist/Rapper: Caleb

(childhood friend x idol/ fake-dating into real dating)

As I said before, he is very open about the fact that he is in a relationship. In interviews, he says how you're adorably clingy and how you don't want him to be an idol (a half-truth, half-lie). He has the most fun turning his phone and showing blurred pictures of your dates to torture the delulu fans. He has got in trouble for this so many times. But the company have stopped telling him off because his ratings are still high, despite being a hit or miss with the fans. He started a movement amongst other idols, allowing them to be more open about the fact that they are humans with feelings, too.

There was one time where you called him mid-shoot and that was the first time people started to get the hint that he was taken.

side note: He has you down as my pip-squeak on his phone.... yes, I am a pip-squeak truther. bite me.

Anyway, instead of editing out the footage of the call from the 'making of' video they kept it in. He was grinning like a fool and what he was saying was barely audible over the rehearsal music. (This was before you actually started dating, mind you). Some fans, who are good at lip-reading, managed to decipher what he was talking about. So, not long after that, he announced his 'relationship.'

If his phone buzzes during lives, he will shamelessly say it's his girlfriend that is contacting him. He doesn't tell the fans that he calls you his pip-squeak. That's between you and him.

It's got to the point where his fans now ship the two of you without knowing who you are. They also helped him pick out an anniversary gift for you when he went live to ask what girls like as gifts. As much as he is open about being in a relationship, he doesn't share too many stories, only surface level things.

In terms of his history with you, you grew up together. He went to pilot school but was scouted to become an idol after he graduated. He lost contact with you for a while but reacquainted with you when you interned at the company.

He has only been dating you for a little while compared to how long everyone actually thinks you have been dating (he is a chronic liar). That man has told the world that you've been together for years.

Even you, who knew he was lying, was confused when you realised that he'd kept up the lie from childhood into his actual job.

In a YouTube interview with N Magazine where they had him unpack his bag for a "what is in my bag" vid, all of his items were gifts from you (that's how you realised he actually liked you and wasn't just joking to keep the fans off his back).

He also wears the necklace you gave him, off and on stage. Some fans have bought dupes of the necklace online, which he doesn't mind because it's a cute design.

As a partner, he is very loyal. He will call you whenever he has the chance (even in the middle of rehearsal.) He sends pictures and selfies to you all the time. Prepare to be spammed. He does get anxious if you don't respond for long periods of time.

He got his piloting license to 'be able to fly to you.' You'd thought he was joking. But one time, when he was on tour, and you hadn't responded for a while, he flew back to you...

He loves to facetime.

In the behind-the-scenes video with the kids, he was so good with them that interviewers after that started asking when he'd become a dad. To which, he said, 'I'll have to ask the lady.'

When he was asked about his ideal type, he plainly said, 'my girlfriend' and didn't elaborate.

Visual + Sub Rapper: Sylus

(enemies to lovers! idol x idol, from a different company)

Sylus, shockingly, is private about his relationship, too. As flashy as he is, he respects the fact that you both are idols. Although he isn't opposed to the mess that creates, he knows you wouldn't want to get the drama. He shamelessly feeds the delulu of his fans, but he isn't necessarily flirting, everything he says just sounds like he is. It's that voice I'm telling you...

He saw you again at an awards evening when your groups were sat next to each other. You had already heard bad things about him from other girls in your group and weren’t fond of his rumoured behaviour. He, on the other hand, remembered you from college; you were an underclassman he used to see around campus. (You don't remember him at all... how? guess you weren't interested.)

After the award evening, your managers asked you two to do a dance TikTok challenge to the boys' new song. The fans saw your chemistry and some, the ones who aren't delulu haters, began to ship you like crazy.

This caused a lot of collaborations between your two groups, and between the two of you specifically. Such as co-hosting awards shows, TikTok's together, guest starring on YouTube video podcasts at the same time. Secretly, he was behind some of those coincidences, at least at first. But then the companies started pushing your dynamic when it was bringing in a lot of attention. All press is good.

The main culprit of the change was the time he did aegyo and the only way they managed to get him to do it was because you were on the phone. (at this point, you were in a situationship).

He slowly managed to melt the ice with you. It took months. You hated his guts. But after a few one-night stands (once is an accident, twice is questionable, five times is a habit) and a very well-planned out date, he finally managed to get you to date him.

He is a good partner. He understands that you both are trying to do your own thing, however, he supports you whenever you need the support. He's great to gossip with--a very good listener.

Your groups are often in the same country at the same time, so you don't really have to worry about missing each other. But when you aren't, he is accessible by text. He sends a lot of nice gifts. And you two have a matching brooch.

In his 'day in the life' video, the one which got over 109 million views, some fans noticed his phone screen, and they noted that his lockscreen was a hand with nails that matched yours.

However, when asked about whether he has a special someone in his life, he is the type to give a very open/ambiguous answer. Not quite at the level of Zayne and Rafayel--but nowhere near as open as Caleb and not as defensive Xavier.

Face of The Group + Centre + Main Vocalist: Rafayel

(Friendzoned! Idol x bodyguard)

Did you expect anything less? I'm sorry but this man is trying desperately to get out of the friendzone, however, he made such a bad first impression that he has been stuck there for months. It's getting to the point where the other guys feel bad for him.

He was a little shit to you when you met. He thought you would be one of those secretly obsessed members of staff, and he was surprised when you didn't give a single fuck about who he was.

He realised you attended the same gym (the company one. Literally everyone uses it). You stay in the boxing area, whereas he keeps to the treadmill.

One time in a YouTube video for their channel, they were doing a member against staff wrestling video (staff wore squid game-esque mask/suits). He chose you to go against him. The other members, who know you're not one to mess with, told him he was crazy. But he didn't listen. He ended up getting German suplexed in the video, and he had to tap out. Let's just say that that clip went viral and Rafayel claims that it was fake anytime it gets brought up in interviews.

Despite that, ever since that day, he would purposefully request for you to be his bodyguard during events and trips to airports. He trusts you with his life, and he makes sure to say it every time he gets the chance; to make you feel responsible for him.

He never mentions his relationship status in videos (once again, he tells people to mind their own business), but in an interview where he was asked what his type is he did say that they had to be strong, which got people bringing up the clip again.

The members are amused every single time you turn him down.

Maybe next time it'll work out for him. He can tell that you are getting fond of him, so it is only a matter of time till you crack.

Maknae + Lead Dancer + Sub Vocalist: Xavier

(idol x idol, same company, also fan x idol)

His partner is from the same company and is also in an idol group.

He met you when you got lost trying to find your groups training room, on your first day. He was sleeping by some lockers next to a coffee machine, and you woke him up and asked, 'if he was okay?' To which he explained that he was just resting his eyes. (poor baby had passed out, but everyone is so used to him doing this that they don't check on him anymore.)

Then without knowing who he was… (you’d never seen him without makeup before) you asked him for directions to your studio. He led you there because he's been in the company for years and knows the building like the back of his hand.

Your group trained in the studio above his.

When he got you there, your members asked why it took you so long and you turned to show them who brought you, but before you could thank him, he was gone.

He bumped into you again, not too long after, when he came to train late at night. You were there trying to get a move right. He helped you correct your posture and that got you talking. After that, he was going to leave, but you told him not to go. So, he ended up staying.

He listens to you gush over Lumiere's TikTok when you get hotpot together or eat pot noodles in the corner of the studio late at night. It turns out you are a fan of his secret TikTok, which made him very jealous of himself.

On a night when he was training with Caleb, you saw him dancing as you were leaving. You had never seen him so active before. That was when you realised who he was.

He hates how you gush over Lumiere even after you start dating. It leads to a lot of heated quickies of him mostly trying to prove that he is better than Lumiere (which makes no sense because well... you know? but Xavier logic, I guess?)

You become his designated camera person.

He asked you out when you were travelling back to dorms together. He fell asleep on your shoulder and muttered his feelings for you.

The other members think you two are really cute together. In the company, instead of finding Xavier by the coffee machine, they know that he'll be sleeping on you or by your bag as you rehearse.

As a partner, he is sweet. Because he is often distracted, he can forget to text you back, but he always tries to message you back when he remembers. He is the type to send good morning and good night messages. He also brings back souvenirs from tour. Despite being in the same company, you aren't often in the same places at the same time. But when you are back at HQ, you two are often together.

When asked about his ideal type in a video, he was more defensive but basically described you. His fans have no clue that his partner is you. He is beyond Zayne levels of private. Aside from the hickey incident, nothing else is out.

[forgettable-au]

W E L C O M E -------

TO THE FORGETTABLE-AU BLOG‼️

by @sunsestart also on twitter!

This is a pinned post that I'll keep updating where I'll organize everything :]

If you're a Papyrus fan you might have heard of the Papyrus is Gaster theory.

I did and even though I don't think it'll happen I like how it would compliment papyrus' backstory since he doesn't really have one. It's an interesting concept why not make an AU out of it.

THE STORY

The main story is set on the past, years before the events of undertale and will explain what exactly led Gaster to shatter across time and space and how Papyrus came to be! It will also fluctuate to the present in a post-pacifist timeline where Papyrus is figuring some stuff out.

MASTERPOST <----

Art and comics are all organized here for easier access! :D

Keep reading for more links and more info

HOW DOES THIS AU WORK? <----

Here I explain the basics of this au :D !

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS <----

DUBS

Feel free to dub any of my comics! Just make sure to add proper credits and a link back to the original blog!

This post might be useful if you want to dub the comic! I talk about how Papyrus' and Wingdings' voices are different

[aventurineswife]

Hi there! Could I maybe request a fic with Aventurine, Sunday, Ratio and Gepard (do you write for him? Lol) where both them and their s/o (gn) are turned into their child selves for a day and their reactions to that? Or you could do it with only one being turned back to their child selves, whichever you’d like

We Are Young

Tags: Ratio x Reader, Gepard x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Transformation, Childhood/Younger Versions, Emotional Growth, Humor, Wholesome Moments, Vulnerability.

Warnings: Mild Language, Temporary Body Transformation, Mental Strain or Disorientation, Feelings of Vulnerability or Loss of Control, Emotional Intensity, Reader is taller(in Ratio's and Gepard's part).

A/N: i decided to do both 😇🫣🤭, also sorry to the person who I was supposed to tag because I forgot your username...🧍‍♀️ Also, you may wanna check my masterlists, because I'm pretty sure i have written a lot for Gepard? 🤔 Not sure tho 🤷‍♀️

It was a calm evening aboard the Intelligentsia Guild's sprawling airship. The vast expanse of stars outside contrasted with the warmth of the room, where Ratio sat, his hands poised over a tablet screen. As always, his mind worked tirelessly on the theories of knowledge that he felt should be shared with all. However, today something was… off.

"Ratio, you've been at this for hours. You need a break," you said, your voice carrying warmth and concern. You leaned against the doorframe, watching him lose himself in his work once again. It was then that the strange energy pulse swept through the room, leaving no time to react.

Before either of you could even blink, a wave of dizziness hit you both. A brief flash of light made the air around you shimmer, and when it passed, everything felt different.

You blinked and turned to Ratio. "Ratio?" you said, your voice suddenly smaller, higher-pitched. You glanced down at your hands—tiny, delicate. A wave of shock hit you as you realized the impossible.

Ratio, standing across from you, had shrunk to the size of a child—his normally imposing figure now reduced to a small, wide-eyed version of himself with tousled, wavy hair. His eyes—once filled with wisdom—now looked confused and uncertain, the usual sharpness replaced by innocent curiosity.

"W-What...?" Ratio’s voice cracked with youthful uncertainty as he looked down at his tiny frame. "I—this is highly irregular. How... how did this happen?"

You chuckled lightly, despite the situation. "Well, it seems we're… children, for a day."

Ratio's brow furrowed, though the effect was somehow more endearing than threatening now. "This is a mistake. This must be some sort of scientific anomaly," he said, lifting his tiny hand to adjust his small glasses—except his fingers barely reached them now.

"You don’t look very 'Veritas' now," you teased, bending down to his level. "How does it feel to be small for once?"

Ratio paused, adjusting to his newfound perspective. "This is… disorienting," he muttered. "But it is most likely an opportunity for scientific observation. A learning experience, of sorts."

"You’re always thinking about learning," you grinned, "but don’t you think you could try being a kid for a day?"

The idea seemed to freeze Ratio for a moment. His mind, ever calculating, seemed to find little solace in childlike spontaneity. "Being a child…" He adjusted his golden ornament, now sitting awkwardly on his smaller frame. "This seems… inefficient."

"Try it, Ratio," you encouraged. "Sometimes the most efficient thing is to just have fun."

He hesitated but eventually nodded. "Very well, a break from academic pursuits—if you insist."

As the day unfolded, Ratio was surprisingly adept at indulging in the freedom of his temporary youth. You both wandered around, engaging in games of light-hearted mischief. He was astoundingly quick to catch on to basic games like tag, though his competitive nature was apparent even in his smaller form. Each time he won, his eyes lit up with pride, the traces of his adult arrogance shining through the innocent joy of a child.

In moments when the two of you laughed together—his scholarly rigidity slipping away—he seemed to soften. His usual dismissiveness was replaced by a more genuine curiosity, a part of him enjoying the simplicity of this temporary freedom. It was a side of Ratio you'd rarely seen: unburdened by the weight of his intellect, just living in the moment with you.

Later, as the day drew to a close, you both found yourselves sitting together, your legs dangling off the side of a low couch, both exhausted from the games and adventures. Ratio looked at you, his violet eyes now softer, still retaining their sharp edge but full of warmth.

"Perhaps there is merit to this youthful experience," he admitted, his voice quieter than usual. "I… I had not anticipated it would offer such clarity."

You smiled and leaned against him, feeling the gentle weight of his tiny shoulder brush yours. "I told you. Sometimes it’s about letting go."

Ratio’s tiny hand grasped yours. "Thank you," he murmured, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his tone.

With a small, satisfied nod, you rested your head against his. "No need for thanks. It was fun seeing you let loose."

"Yes," he said, looking up at the stars outside, "perhaps it was. But I am more than ready to return to my true form." He gave you a side glance, a small smirk pulling at his lips. "I do hope, however, that this is not a regular occurrence."

You laughed softly. "I’m not sure I could handle seeing the genius child version of you every day."

"Indeed," he agreed, his smirk widening.

The Silvermane Guard headquarters in Belobog was quiet, the evening shift having just begun. Gepard sat at his desk, poring over reports. His discipline never wavered, and his devotion to his city was clear in the weight of his every action. Beside him, you were flipping through a small book, offering occasional glances at your partner’s focused expression.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar energy rippled through the room. You both froze. A bright flash of light filled the space, and within moments, everything was different. You rubbed your eyes in disbelief.

Looking down, your hands were smaller. The realization hit you, but before you could react, you turned to Gepard. He, too, had transformed. His tall, muscular frame had shrunk to a much smaller version of himself—still strong, but in a child's form. His eyes widened, and he stared at his hands in astonishment.

"What is this?" Gepard exclaimed, his voice youthful but with a familiar seriousness. "Why am I... a child?"

You burst into laughter, despite the situation. "Seems like we’ve been turned into kids for a day."

Gepard’s young features were framed by his tousled hair, and his usual stern expression was replaced by a mix of confusion and uncertainty. "This is… highly irregular," he muttered, glancing down at his armor, which no longer seemed to fit.

You walked over, crouching down to his level. "What’s the matter, Captain? Aren’t you excited for a day off from all the responsibility?"

Gepard looked at you, his brow furrowing. "I have no time for irresponsibility," he said, his tone surprisingly serious even in his small body. "Belobog depends on me."

"You’re always so serious," you teased, ruffling his hair. "Come on, this could be fun."

Despite his hesitation, you led the way, and soon enough, you both found yourselves in the heart of Belobog, running through the streets with the unburdened joy of childhood. Gepard, while still retaining his sense of duty, couldn't help but join in the carefree fun. His laughter, light and free, was a welcome change from the often grave captain of the Silvermane Guards.

You both played games, chased each other through the streets, and even found time to climb a small hill to watch the sunset. Gepard, no longer burdened by his responsibilities, seemed lighter, as if a weight had been lifted from his broad shoulders.

Later, sitting on the rooftop, you glanced at him, your smaller frame nestled against his. "This is nice, right?" you asked softly, watching the orange hues of the setting sun.

He nodded, his youthful gaze softer than you'd ever seen it. "Yes," he admitted, his voice quiet. "But I also miss the responsibilities... the weight of it all." He looked up at the sky, reflecting on the day. "But this... this was a much-needed break."

"Sometimes," you said, "we need to step back to see things clearly."

He turned to you, a soft smile curling on his lips. "Thank you for reminding me of that, even in my childish form."

You grinned. "Anytime, Captain."

As the day ended and the magic wore off, both of you returned to your grown selves. But the memory of the shared laughter, the momentary escape from the burdens of life, remained with both of you, a reminder that even the most steadfast warriors need a break from time to time.

Aventurine blinked as the swirling light enveloped him, the familiar sensation of a gambit gone wrong sinking in. When the world came back into focus, his hand instinctively went to adjust his choker—only for it to slip off entirely, far too loose on a much smaller neck. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of his now childlike form, and he paused, staring down in bewilderment at the change.

"I—this is impossible." His voice, high-pitched and uncertain, was a far cry from the suave tone he usually maintained. The reflection of himself in the nearby glass confirmed it: a child, no older than seven, wearing a miniature version of his luxurious outfit. His hair was still sandy blond, though a little more tousled, and his eyes still held the same gleam—but everything else was different.

He shifted uneasily, looking up to find you standing in front of him, your expression a mix of surprise and amusement. “What is this?” he asked, clearly flustered.

Before you could reply, the weight of it sank in. Aventurine was a master of control, of risks and strategies—but how could he possibly calculate this? A game he couldn’t win. His childlike body was a puzzle, a problem with no clear solution.

His gaze flickered to his hand, instinctively wanting to hide it, but in this small form, it was far too obvious. “I suppose you think this is... funny.” The words were still tinged with a hint of mockery, though the playful lightheartedness of his childhood form only made it seem endearing.

You chuckled softly, stepping closer. "Just a little," you teased, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "But how do you feel about it? Don’t tell me you’ve lost your confidence too."

Aventurine scowled, though it held no real weight behind it. “It’s... absurd. My stature is an integral part of my presence. How am I supposed to manipulate others if I can’t even manipulate my own reflection?” He glanced down at the roulette wheel details adorning his coat, visibly irritated by the absurdity of it all. But then, the smallest of smiles tugged at his lips, a rare moment of vulnerability creeping in. “Though, I suppose... it’s quite a charming form.”

You smiled, stepping closer to him and pulling him into a gentle hug, feeling his small arms instinctively wrap around you. "It suits you. Maybe this will help you rediscover the joy of playing without the stakes being so high, huh?"

Aventurine froze for a moment in your embrace, but as your warmth surrounded him, he let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh. His usual sharp, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by something softer, something closer to the man he’d been before life made him hardened. For a fleeting moment, he could feel the carefree freedom of a child—of someone not burdened by the weight of the world.

“I suppose,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. "Maybe I can afford to let go… just for today."

Sunday’s wings fluttered in confusion as his form shifted. A strange, almost dreamlike sensation washed over him, like he was caught in the middle of one of his own contemplations. When the world solidified once more, he looked around, his eyes widening in disbelief.

"Is this...?" His voice was soft, higher than he remembered, but unmistakably his. He instinctively touched his hair, finding it longer now, grazing his shoulders—his normally serene appearance now radiating innocence. His once graceful, ethereal figure had been reduced to a child’s, no older than ten, with all the vulnerability that came with it.

A small gasp escaped his lips as he noticed you standing nearby. There was a soft, affectionate glow in your eyes, but the mixture of surprise and amusement was unmistakable.

"S-Sunday?" you asked, your tone filled with that same gentle surprise that mirrored his own.

“I...” He hesitated, his golden eyes flickering in uncertainty. “I wasn’t prepared for this.” His wings fluttered again—an unconscious response—and his little hands went to adjust the clothing that no longer quite fit the same way. His halo, too, seemed smaller and less defined, as if it were struggling to hold onto its celestial nature in the form of a child.

You stepped forward, a soft smile playing on your lips. “How do you feel about this? A little strange?”

He nodded, clearly unsettled. "It’s... disorienting." He glanced at you, his gaze shifting between his childlike form and your more mature one. "I’ve spent so long trying to maintain control over everything... And now I—"

"You don't need to control everything today," you interrupted gently, reaching for his small hand and holding it between yours. His fingers curled instinctively around yours, the tenderness of the touch cutting through the awkwardness of the situation. "It’s okay to let go. You’re allowed to feel... free, for once."

Sunday's expression softened at your words, and for the briefest of moments, the heavy burden he often carried seemed to lift. His small body fit so easily into your embrace, and the weight of his usual responsibilities seemed to vanish. The deep internal conflict that was often so prevalent in his mind felt distant, as though it were a memory from another time.

His wings fluttered again, the lightness of them symbolizing the fleeting joy of childhood. "I suppose," he whispered, "this day will allow me to remember... what it means to dream without fear."

You leaned down, kissing the top of his head. "Exactly. You’ve been so focused on protecting others for so long—let me take care of you today."

A small, wistful smile tugged at Sunday’s lips, his childlike form reflecting a rare, vulnerable side. "Thank you," he murmured, the words more genuine than he'd realized he was capable of expressing.

[yumecel]

But that is how the guilty speak 💙

yandere!neuvillette / f!reader | 6.1k words

summary: how does neuvillette go about getting your attention? by trapping you in a kafkaesque nightmare.

reader specifics: female, she/her woman terms whatever

tags: neuvillette SUFFERS, a little angsty, pining, ooc neuvillette for the purposes of yandere, oral, he’s a gentleman all the same

a/n: so this is basically a yandere version of “the trial” by franz kafka. happy birthday neuvillette!! happy neuvillette day!

tws: yandere, stalking, dubcon, manipulation

i promise i’m 18+, i promise i read the warnings, i promise i’m okay with seeing dark content, i know one thousand curses will karmically descend on me should i lie [yes⬇️] [no↩️]

——💙——

“Chief Justice Neuvillette would like to see you today.”

For the first time in days, you let out a sigh of relief. You barely feel like you’ve been given any room to breathe ever since you woke up to the Gardes outside your door, Gardemeks in tow, arresting you for a crime… that they had not yet revealed the nature of.

You’d been detained- first within your home, then at the Palais Mermonia, being taken care of to the highest standard both times. You didn’t have to cook- meals were delivered to you in a timely fashion. Come a certain point following lunch, a hot drink and small selection of cakes would be delivered. Afternoon tea. You were being given afternoon tea as a prisoner of the law.

Were all detainments this luxurious? you had wondered, opening your daily copy of The Steambird a few days in. When you had started your stay at the Palais Mermonia, it had felt like an all-inclusive resort. Which was a shame, since it really would have been more comforting had anyone actually explained to you what was going on. You’d tried to pry this answer from the Gardes many times, but were met with indifference. Did someone slander you? Did you sleepwalk your way into criminal activity? Day by day, the firm grasp you had on innocence started to waver. It never completely slipped- no, the deep confusion presided above all else- but there were moments of wondering what could have gone so, so wrong to warrant this. You had counted all your sins, listed all your inadequacies, and failed to come to any reasonable conclusion. Within the eyes of the Gardes, you were completely at the mercy of a higher authority.

Now, after three weeks of detainment, you’d finally meet that higher authority. The only authority that now mattered to you. Well aware that most meet Chief Justice Neuvillette within the context of court, you desperately hoped these circumstances meant that nothing serious had occurred. Your most recent theory involved being in witness protection, and perhaps he’d explain-

“Come on. He’s waiting.”

Shaking out of your racing thoughts, perhaps a little maddened by the persistent loneliness and alienation, you obediently followed the Gardes. When you finally entered the room, he stood up from his desk to greet you.

“(Y/N). Come, have a seat. I have prepared tea. I trust this beverage choice is acceptable?”

You nodded, sitting down on one of the sofas where a teacup sat on the table before it.

Neuvillette had sat down opposite you, a small chalice in front of him. Midday wine?

“You can have water instead, if desired.” He said, raising the chalice before taking a sip. So it was just water?

“No, no. This is lovely. Thank you, Chief Justice Neuvillette.”

“Neuvillette is fine.”

“I see. In that case, thank you Neuvillette.”

He nods. You nod. You can’t stand staring into his eyes anymore. You pick up your teacup with a soft clank against the saucer and look down into it after taking a small sip. You hope you didn’t accidentally slurp it too loud. The room is chillingly silent, so quiet that you can hear your blood pumping. He sets his chalice down on the table. You wonder if you should speak. You decide against it.

“How are you?” Neuvillette says suddenly, almost as if remembering he even intended to ask.

“Oh, I… well, I’m fine, but I am very confused.” You respond, a small laugh following. It does little to alleviate the tension.

“I see. That is understandable, given your circumstances.” The tone isn’t cold, but it isn’t warm. It is simply spoken gently, like a hesitant hand making its way onto your shoulder.

He pauses. You nod, still looking away from him. Desperate for him to explain without seeming too concerned with your state of affairs, you meet his eyes again and are thankful when he takes this as a cue to continue speaking.

“Speaking of which, your circumstances have been difficult to navigate indeed. It is a case I have been personally reviewing since the start of your detainment. My deepest apologies for the confusion.”

Sensing sincerity in his voice, you decide to tentatively prod a little. “May I please know more about the case itself?”

He takes in a breath before continuing, gaze dropping to the floor briefly. “It is so mountainous that I am unsure where to begin. I can, however, tell you that you must be protected in order to not disturb the crime scene or convene with any third parties.”

You try to still your hands as you reach for your teacup, hardly satiated by his answer. Ruling out neither being a suspect or being a witness, it was so vague and meaningless he may as well have not answered you at all.

“I see… I think. Are you unable to divulge any details about the case to me? I- I’m sorry to be rude, it’s just, these three weeks-“ You begin, trailing off at his palm steadily raising. You silence yourself before taking another sip of the tea, willing your eyes to meet his once again as you sit back.

“There is no need for apologies. It is I who should be apologising to you. Many things about the case are strictly confidential. Guilt or innocence do not matter at this stage. Only the necessity of the actions taken.”

Your body slumps in defeat as your mouth asks the question you’ve been dreading. “Will I need to be detained any longer?”

“Yes. Indefinitely, I’m afraid.”

Fists clenching and unclenching in your lap. A sharp intake of your breath. Eyes begin to water. A desperate attempt to hide the tears is made by slouching forward, staring intently at the ground.

“It’s just that I haven’t been permitted to see my family or friends all this time, they’re probably worried about me…”

Neuvillette rises from his seat and comes quickly to your side, placing a hand on your back. You jolt, but Neuvillette does not falter. As it rubs in small circles, strangely comforting, strangely- strangely warm- he says, “Please, do not fret. It may be slightly inconvenient, but there is an alternate arrangement that would give you more freedom, should you desire it.”

Of course you desire it, of course, whatever price, you’d be willing to pay it to make this extended stay in purgatory any less isolating.

“What is it?” You sniffle.

Neuvillette remains silent for almost too long. You swear his hand presses just a little firmer on your back, almost to prevent you from sitting back up.

“An arrest via supervision. My supervision, to be precise. So long as you are by my side, any danger- whether towards you or from you- is suitably negated. Unfortunately, this does mean that you must accompany me to various trials and affairs. Would you find this satisfactory?”

Actually, it almost sounded too good to be true. You found your body relaxing. The Iudex would be looking after you, offering you a privileged view of the inner workings of his life- a topic of much discussion in Fontaine. You’d continue to eat well, you could likely communicate with others freely-

“Yes,” you say, unable to stop yourself. “I just want to be able to see my loved ones again.”

His hand finally leaves your body, leaving a residual warmth. “Very well. You may make the necessary arrangements to see these people after completing the paperwork. And… it is best if you tell them you have taken on new work at the Palais Mermonia in the meantime.”

“Of course,” you say, finally drinking the rest of your tea. “Thank you, Neuvillette.”

When he sits down at his desk, there is an almost imperceptible smile on his face. Is this the unselfish joy of helping the common folk?

“The pleasure is all mine.”

——💙——

Being permanently by Neuvillette’s side could almost be considered pleasant. There is the confinement, the unwarranted surveillance, but there are plenty of amenities alongside those.

He is not much a conversationalist, but he will speak to make your experience more bearable. Your meals come at regular intervals, and there is no shortage of things to do around the Palais Mermonia. Most days. There is, unavoidably, occasional boredom, quelled by walks outside and the arrival of new books and trinkets. He takes you to all of Furina’s plays that you can possibly attend, which you rather appreciate. Backstage, she once brings up that she’s happy Neuvillette now has a personal assistant to lighten his workload. Neuvillette does not disagree, and you nod. Beyond the remnants of her previous facade, Furina is kind and thoughtful, but you often wonder if your presence provides a comfortable buffer between her and Neuvillette. Often she talks only to you as Neuvillette stands there, watching in silence. It does make you wonder though, how despite being the ex-archon of Fontaine, even she is not privy to your situation.

Well, Furina may not be an official anymore, so perhaps there is really no need to know that you are technically Neuvillette’s prisoner rather than his assistant. Still, an accumulation of small things surrounding your circumstances grows, serving to both frighten and puzzle you.

The first is something you can never quite grow desensitised to, and it’s that… come nighttime, Neuvillette seems intent on checking if you are in bed, as if you were a child.

“I must apologise for reminding you, but it is standard practice in many prisons to ensure inmates are actually going to sleep at night.” He had told you one evening, when you tried to present your dismay as jokingly as possible. You personally feel him coming into your room (his guest room) to ensure you are adequately “tucked in” is not comparable, but you refrain from saying this.

You are also not allowed an alarm clock, so he wakes you up as part of his morning routine. The first face you see upon waking, the last face you see before sleeping.

There is also the fact that having constant access to the man in charge of your detainment should be useful in terms of information, but he doesn’t let on to anything at all.

You’re very careful not to upset Neuvillette. You are aware that your situation is a privilege, that the ease of being able to see people outside of him- simply telling him when you will be gone, where you’re going, and when you’ll be back- is a pretty good deal when compared to everyone you know finding out you’re under arrest and having to fill out paperwork to approve any actions.

Still, with every day that passes, your situation grows more nonsensical. There are never any updates on your case, though Neuvillette promises he’ll tell you as soon as he’s able to provide you with information. You continue to be in the presence of the most important authority in the entirety of Fontaine. You feel like you’re freeloading every time you eat, and end up helping Neuvillette with the simplest of tasks in his office to ease this. Your attendance to every trial, witnessing the necessary coldness of Neuvillette’s impartiality, makes the subtle way his face softens upon seeing you all the more obvious. You find yourself imagining him doing everything alone, perhaps with the occasional appearance of Furina, before your detainment. Eating most of his meals alone. Walking out after a particularly challenging trial and talking to only a few Gardes on the way. There is no such person that he approaches and asks, “Shall we depart?”- a formal question that really means Let’s go home. Nobody asks him what he’s thinking about afterwards, and there are no excuses to unwind upon reaching his residence. At the start of your detainment with him, he would comb through files immediately after removing his robes. Now he joins you on the sofa, spring water in hand as he either converses with you or listens to you flick through pages of a novel. And it’s strange to admit, but you’re starting to be able to taste the difference between each nation’s water, a symbol of your proximity to him.

You learn more about him than you thought you’d ever know. The tabloids would pay good money for any of it, but you’ve strangely started to consider him a friend rather than a jailor, and it wouldn’t feel right. Besides, you highly doubt Neuvillette would permit you to exit his supervision just to talk to disreputable reporters. You try your best to make the most of this strange existence, settling into his routine, and becoming part of his life.

One day, a melusine detective skips into his office, files in hand. It’s not one you’re unfamiliar with, having spoken to many of the melusines that enter, leave, and work in the Palais Mermonia.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, we must discuss this case a little further before proceeding.” She explains, brows furrowing, but when she looks up from the case files, you catch her eye.

“Ah, hello Miss (Y/N)! It’s lovely to see you. Monsieur Neuvillette, is Miss (Y/N) allowed to be in the room for this discussion? Or perhaps we should depart? My deepest apologies, Miss (Y/N).”

“I understand if not,” you pipe up, shuffling papers around on a table. “If it’s related to my case, or-“

“You have an active case, Miss (Y/N)?”

You’ve seen melusines forget things many times before, but this one, looks… positively puzzled.

“I… do.” You say tentatively, glancing to Neuvillette.

He looks rather stunned, but it’s only a deduction you could’ve made after weeks of seeing his face and neutral expression.

“Yes, but it has moved past the need for the Marechaussee Phantoms. It is perfectly fine for Miss (Y/N) to stay in the room.”

“Ah, I see! I hope everything resolves quickly, Miss (Y/N).”

“Thank you.” You say quietly.

You start to feel, more overwhelmingly, that there is something deeply wrong.

That night, he approaches your room for his regular checking-in of you. You’re sitting upright in bed, staring into space, thinking of how little you’ve seen of your own home in the past few months, thinking of how much of the world you now consume through a Neuvillette-vetted filter, thinking of how much gratitude you should actually feel about everything- until a gentle knock on the door stirs you.

When you tell him to come in, he wears only his slacks and dress shirt, robe abandoned, and downcast eyes.

“I regret that this is taking so long, (Y/N).”

The rain patters against your window.

You sigh quietly. “… It’s alright. You can’t help it, can you?”

A howl of wind.

“I can’t. I do wish I could.”

Lashes of rain now batter against the glass in quick succession.

“Then there’s no need to apologise.”

He stands in silence, still looking down , and you turn away from him, looking out to the dismal weather. There is such a profound sadness emanating off him that you’d do anything to take his mind off it.

“Hey, is the “hydro dragon, don’t cry” stuff real?”

You expect him to laugh and tell you no.

“Only some of the time . It’s true that I have quite a powerful connection to the waters of Fontaine.”

“What about this time?”

You look back to him, finding that he’s staring blankly ahead and out of the window.

“This time… cannot be helped.”

——💙——

“Thank you. I may just have to take you on as my real assistant when we escape our current circumstances.”

You laugh, trying to hide any sense of unease. The files you had just handed him were merely sorted by date, a task that a child could do. “There’s no need to flatter me. I know you managed perfectly fine before I was around.”

“Did I..?” He mumbles. It’s so unlike him that you do a double take.

“I mean, you sorted everything on your own, right?”

“Most of the time. Perhaps it’s more accurate to assume that I appreciate your company.”

Fighting off the surprise from the sudden compliment, you manage to say, “I appreciate yours too, Neuvillette.”

You’re unable to tell if it’s a lie. He’s more than just company. He’s your entire life, at this point.

But you see the corners of his lips twitch, and the way the sunlight seeps into his office fills the room with warmth. It’s hard not to be touched by a moment like this. It’s harder to refrain from asking about the status of your case. Something inside you, a primal form of fear and unease, steels you in the face of both challenges.

——💙——

Even though Neuvillette may be the Iudex, overseeing all legal proceedings in Fontaine, he seems to hold the nature of your case above you like some metaphysical higher power. Whilst your own autonomy belongs to the court, the Iudex acts based on his principles, and the intangible whisperings of your own proceedings. You are trapped in a state that possesses neither the luxuries of innocence nor the condemnation of guilt. You don’t often dare to proclaim innocence in front of Neuvillette- should you require to, it will be within the Opera Epiclese. In the face of the entire law, defending yourself without any knowledge of what laws have even been broken has an awful pointlessness to it.

You also don’t like bringing your case up because you swear it always rains.

Both you and Neuvillette are aware that every passing day is a test on your patience. It intensified a few weeks ago when he had turned down your request for a trip to Liyue in order to visit a friend.

“There is too much on my schedule for that week. Perhaps the following month, I will have the time to escort you.”

“Why not have someone else escort me? Surely it’s well within your power-“

He drops his pen, standing up, as if to remind you of his authority. “You would be too far away from me. Our agreement clearly states-“

“Our agreement? To protect me? To protect people from me?” You laugh bitterly. “It’s been months of this. Nothing has happened, and from my perspective, nothing has changed behind the scenes. And you’re telling me I can’t have the weekend to visit a friend on her birthday?”

He remains impassive, yet a stress in his voice betrays it. “Anything could happen, (Y/N). I ask you to respect my decision on this, and trust it is within your best interests. I am more than willing to make all the necessary arrangements to send her a gift for the meantime.”

There is nothing else to do but accept defeat. The apologies, the ordering of your favourite foods, the, “I understand you’re upset with me”, and the, “Please know I wouldn’t be doing this without reason”- all serve to put salt in the wound.

With all your free time, it was only natural that you would eventually end up picking up a law book.

You’re allowed to take any book you want so long as you return it to where you found it, but the sudden interest in Fontainian law may be… suspicious. So you slip the heavy law books between novels and case retellings, bringing them to your room where you would be away from his watchful eyes. It takes a while to ascertain the correct volume, but you eventually manage to borrow the one on Fontainian laws of arrest and detainment.

You slot a bookmark about two thirds of the way through the book.

Part Seven: Wrongful Detention.

If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. And he knows you take books often, so one missing volume shouldn’t be a cause for concern. Within the volume, you hoped to find anything that could prove your detainment was unlawful, present this to him, and… hope he agrees?

You could kick up a storm in the Palais Mermonia. Wayward comments about how the Iudex violated the law, that not all citizens of Fontaine are treated impartially. The plan would come into fruition later- for the meantime, you needed to read.

Thumbing through the pages and observing the tiny size of the text, you grimace.

——💙——

“I’m going upstairs to read.”

His gaze follows you from where you hang up your coat to where you shuffle out of your shoes.

This time, there is no, “I see. Enjoy yourself” for you to hum at before leaving the room.

“Have you been particularly immersed in a series as of late? It seems this is now the only activity you do when the workday finishes.”

“Yes,” You respond. “I’m quite into it. I need to see how it ends.”

“I understand. The detective novels of Fontaine can be quite enthralling.” He tells you, with a sense of finality. You were expecting him to ask you what the series was. You were prepared to make something up, but it appears there is no need.

You continue reading the law book, switching it out for a light novel when Neuvillette normally knocks on your door and tells you he’s getting ready to retire for the evening, and if you’d like to join him downstairs for tea. You do, bringing the novel with you so suspicion isn’t aroused.

When you return upstairs, you switch it out once more with the law book, hiding it when Neuvillette arrives to ensure you’re in bed, wait until you hear his own bedroom door close, and then take it out again.

Reading under the dim light of your portable lamp, you must’ve been so engrossed that you hardly noticed him approaching.

“Oh? Pray tell, what has kept you up so late?”

Because suddenly he’s in your doorway, no knocking, and swiftly stepping over to you and your small desk.

“I-“

“Ah, the missing volume. You know, when studying law, it is generally recommended to start from volume one, which I don’t recall you taking.”

Your eyes are frozen to the book in front of you, despite feeling Neuvillette’s imposing presence behind you.

“Part Seven…” He murmurs, a finger tracing the header on the page. He’s completely leaning over you now, and you swear you can feel hot breath tickling the top of your head. “… as I suspected.”

He swiftly closes the book before stepping back from you, telling you to get out of the chair. You’re expecting him to guide you back into bed, tell you he’ll deal with you in the morning, but he doesn’t. With a hand placed on the small of your back, he guides you out of the room, down the hallway, and down the stairs. He motions for you to sit on the sofa before he busies himself in the kitchen with making tea.

When the tea is placed in front of you, you look up. There is no anger in his eyes like you thought there would be. There is only a forlorn expression that portrays deep loneliness.

“I know I owe you an explanation.” He says, sitting down beside you. You can hardly stand to look him, but see his face turned towards you in your peripheral vision.

His arms are wrapped around you before you can stop him, and you’re hauled into his lap in a swift motion, much to your dismay. “Please relax,” he murmurs. “I won’t hurt you.”

And you stop struggling, if only out of fear, the implication that he could hurt you if he desperately wanted to. You feel his face bury itself in the crook of your neck, an intimacy so foreign that your body jolts involuntarily.

“I have failed you greatly,” He mutters into your neck, “Centuries of impartiality, and…”

His arms tighten around you, squeezing you like he’s afraid you’ll slip out and seep through the floorboards.

“One person, one person to myself… all I ask… one person I would not turn my back on for the sake of my principles, I… I am deeply sorry you had to be the unlucky individual, (Y/N).”

There is nowhere for you to run, unable to move, locked in his arms. So instead, you speak.

“From the top, we can fix this,” You whisper, knowing he’s paying earnest attention to every word. “I wouldn’t tell anyone if you let me go.”

And what good would it do anyway?

He inhales sharply, giving you another squeeze. “I cannot do that. But what can I do? Countless nights have been spent lying awake, trying to orchestrate a true, unselfish reason for you to remain by my side,”

You continue listening, not daring to speak a word through his shaking breaths.

“When the desire first arose, I thought it better to hold you between judgement and ambivalence. It went on for too long. I see that now.”

The rain outside is more intense than you’ve ever seen it. A gust of wind seems to rush through his residence, and a door slams. Desperation. It is as if the storm wishes to claw at the doors, to be let in, to wreak havoc.

“Was there ever a case?” You breathe.

“Yes. You were being framed for a theft, but it was such a baseless lie that bringing you to court would have been unnecessary. It was over before you were detained at the Palais Mermonia.”

You clench your fists so tightly that you can feel nails digging into your palms. “Why me?”

He sighs like the whole world is collapsing onto his shoulders.

“There was a certain power in keeping you prisoner. I indulged this idea, of a person that wouldn’t need to be judged, constantly in the throes of the law. Neither innocent nor guilty. I was so lonely, (Y/N). I wanted to be able to share feelings with someone. I originally brought you to the Palais Mermonia to apologise formally but the more I observed… the more I yearned for something I could not otherwise have.”

You let yourself be cradled by him, let him slowly rock you as if you’re the one in emotional turmoil. In truth, you are betrayed- and painfully bitter about it- and perhaps angry at everything, perhaps scared, but Neuvillette is the least composed you have ever seen him. Time enters becomes a trickling sludge as his grip on you loosens just enough to allow movement, and you sip tea that’s already starting to go cold.

“I can’t ask for forgiveness. But please, please stay.”

“I can’t be a prisoner forever.” You admit, hanging your head.

Because in spite of everything, all the wrongs, there is a sense of pity. A hand of yours has been involuntarily plunged deep into his heart, and now that your fingers are wrapped around the glass core, you’re afraid it may shatter. Gently, you will let him down gently, and you will be free.

“You’ve always been more than a prisoner. Promise yourself to me. Marry me. Please, don’t let me rot like this forever. I beg you.”

“M-Marry you?” You sputter.

“I know those proceedings are of great significance to humans, so perhaps for the meantime you could accept engagement. The timing of our mating doesn’t matter.”

You attempt to shuffle off his lap, but he doesn’t loosen his grip. Time for a new strategy.

“Neuvillette… I’m flattered, but you know, I’m very much mortal-“

“An easily solved problem if you choose to become my mate.”

“- well, still-“

“Could you indulge me? Please, could you lend me the honour of experiencing union and understanding, even if merely once?”

His hand slides down to your thigh, not groping, not provocatively slipping upwards, but resting, slightly trembling.

As you manage to swivel around, and stare into his draconic eyes, you find yourself faced with centuries of near-imperceptible pain. His gaze doesn’t waver. You could drown in it.

Swimmers caught in rip currents shouldn’t waste their energy swimming against them. Rather, they should allow the current to take them so they can find a safe route back to shore.

You stop swimming against the current. An act of submission to the natural world. Finally, a whisper, barely recognisable as your own voice, speaks for you.

“Alright.”

And he pulls you beneath the surface, gently laying his lips on yours, slow, sweet, and soft.

——💙——

You follow him upstairs. He had offered to carry you, but you’d declined. You don’t think he takes offence, he only nods, coaxing you up every step like he fears one wrong move will send you fleeing.

He holds the door to his bedroom open for you. “Come in, now. Make yourself comfortable.”

You take a tentative seat on the side of his bed, watching as he unbuttons his shirt- most likely an old one, a few tears clumsily sewn up along a sleeve- and when he approaches you, undoubtedly catching how your eyes rake over his chest, his hands pause at the top of your silken pyjamas.

“May I?”

When you nod, it only takes a split second for his two hands to greedily yank the edges, sending every last button flying across the room. You gasp, nearly raising your arms to cover yourself but are beat by Neuvillette’s large but slender hands suddenly kneading at your breasts. Thumbs carefully circling around the buds, then pinching, squeezing, twisting. His hands find themselves under your arms, forcing you back onto the bed- you swear your body is practically lifted at some point, all of the strength he tends to keep subdued now on full display. Loose strands of his hair tickle your face as he leans down to kiss you, a far cry from the previous one. This is a kiss borne of starvation and avarice. He’s so warm against you, you can smell a light cologne, something resembling scented woods and the sea.

“We should get these off, too.” He says, not waiting for any input before two fingers hook the elastic of your pyjama bottoms and pull down. He guides them off your thighs, letting you wriggle out of them and discard them on the bedroom floor with a weak kick until you lie fully naked beneath him. He clambers off you for a moment, merely observing your form on his bedsheets as he kneels by your side. It’s hard not to admire his beautifully sculpted body, shining in the pale moonlight. His hands guide your legs open as he repositions himself and bows down ever closer to your core, where an embarrassing amount of heat has started to build. He’s between your legs, kissing all the way up your thigh as if it were you that was the deity, sucking and biting harder the closer he comes to your slit. His hand gropes your opposite thigh to balance himself, and his face pauses- so close you feel his breath fanning over your pussy, long enough for you to raise your head and see him staring right at you with draconic pupils blown wide.

“Now, please, allow me to prove my devotion.”

That’s when a finger prods at your entrance, slipping in all too easily, lips locking around your clit and sucking tenderly. Sensing the lack of resistance, another finger joins the first, curling slightly as you jolt upwards. The breath is knocked out of your lungs, something shameful and neglected coiling tighter at your core, growing stronger as his tongue flicks at you and fingers curl.

“Neuvillette!” You gasp. His intensity bears so much contrast to the usually composed man you see in front of you. Now, between your legs, he laps at you like a man possessed.

With two fingers continuing to pump against your clenching walls, his tongue continues to work at your clit, applying pressure in all right places. He’s exploring your body, fingers wavering, changing angles, figuring out what makes you jolt, what makes you whine, and best of all, what prompts you to whisper his name like a prayer. When his pace slows and his fingers are hardly moving inside of you, you beg so sweetly for him- little “Neuvillette”s and “Please, please”s- , and he delivers. You’d never have expected him to tease so much.

It’s really just that he’s doing anything to make you speak for him. Every whimper is an admission of guilt, you do want this, you want him, and it is beyond plausible deniability. That’s why he slows. That’s why he pauses. He needs to hear you say it for him. You deduce this fairly quickly, and embarrassingly, give in to every silent demand.

When his pressure loosens, when the fingers finally slip out, you twitch, crying out his name so he can finish you off.

“Patience, dear. You’ll be taken care of soon.”

He removes himself and you shuffle around on the bed, sitting up briefly, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and resisting the temptation to finish the job yourself. He takes a handkerchief from his nightstand to wipe himself off, ever the meticulous one, refusing to look away. His gaze pins you in place, prevents a hand from slipping down to your neglected pussy. It’s only in full of view of you that he finally fully strips himself, hardly letting you get an eyeful of his shaft before he’s pushing your chest backwards, eyes full of adoration and slipping his warm hands under your thighs, moving your legs into the air, bent at the knee. His lips press down on yours so fondly as the head of his cock prods against you.

“Lift your head for me, beloved.”

And you obey as reaches over you, tip clumsily bumping against your slit. A pillow is placed beneath your head, feather stuffed, angling you perfectly to stare into his eyes.

He wants you to look at him.

“Perfect.” He breathes, positioning himself to slide into your cunt, a hand ghosting over your own and intertwining fingers.

Neuvillette moves so slowly, almost as if he’e being careful not to break you. You feel every inch of him sink into you, one by one. You close your eyes, fluttering them open every few seconds as he moves leisurely. His own gaze refuses to deviate from you, and a thumb strokes your cheek.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have this forever?” His voice rumbles. “Have each other… forever?”

You open your mouth to respond- that’s not what we agreed to, that’s not-

But he bottoms out, pushing against you, and all you can manage is a wanton moan as you throw your head back.

In the back of your mind, you know Neuvillette is far too scrupulous to allow you to part from him after this. This is all of him, in front of you, and every inch buried inside of you. This is more than a taste of union.

He starts rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, feeling your walls clench around him. You swear you hear a growl rise from his throat, and a hand slowly starts to palm at your clit. You can feel Neuvillette’s every breath shudder through his body, every human constriction forced on his form. You can feel how he tries to control himself and move with grace, but also how his fingers simultaneously start to rub more frantically at you. Every sensation across your body is all him, all Neuvillette, a presence so overwhelming you can barely think of anything else. As you come closer to the edge, you sink into this feeling. No longer caring and with all shame abandoned, you call for him desperately, the only person that can possibly give you what you need.

And he does.

With his cock hammering in and out of you, hitting that spot that makes your toes curl and fists tighten around bedsheets, alongside his fingers rubbing against your most sensitive area, you cum so hard you see stars. You moan out his name one final time, spasming around his length as your eyes roll to the ceiling. Neuvillette continues to indulge himself within you, letting you ride out your orgasm with his persistent thrusts. He quickens, almost bordering on overstimulating you, but eventually pulls out, streaking white across your chest as he leans down and steals one final kiss. Forceful and desperate, he kisses like it’s his last chance to prove his love for you.

Perhaps it is. You feel him mutter something against your lips.

I love you.

Your stomach turns as the reality of the situation comes crashing down.

Trembling slightly and stepping back, the first question from his lips is, “Are you alright?”

It takes a short delay before you force yourself to meet his eyes, now donning an expression of concern. “Mm, yeah, just let me-“

You start to rise but Neuvillette shakes his head. “Please, let me wipe you off first.”

You end up staring blankly at the ceiling as he runs a handkerchief over you, swiping gently at your skin.

“I shall prepare a bath for us. Wait here. Relax.”

That’s the last you remember before he leaves the room. Alone with your thoughts, nothing seems to make sense. You take in all four corners of the ceiling and don’t do much else. It’s as if you’re temporarily suspended in a dreamlike state until Neuvillette reenters the room. He scoops you up from the bed and cradles you against his chest as you make your way to the bathroom. You think he presses a kiss or two against your forehead. You’re not sure. Half your body is cold, half of it is pressed against him, and you shiver in his arms. The floor beneath you moves faster.

That’s how you end up beside him in the bathtub as his hands run across your body. He doesn’t say anything to you, but the tender kisses pressed along your jawline speak for themselves.

Tonight, you will sleep in his bed. Tomorrow, you will wake up entangled in his limbs. You are to be cherished. You are to be taken care of. Nothing will change in the eyes of the public, at least not for now. But he will now have every last part of you.

You wished you had proclaimed your innocence sooner. You wish you had fought him. You could have argued that you are no less guilty than any other citizen of Fontaine, and should be treated as such. At least, if nothing else, you should’ve made a demand for fairness.

But that is how the guilty speak.

——💙——

fin. with love from yumecel. happy birthday neuvillette!! i love you!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

OKAY HELLO UH. SAVANACLAW DREAM UPDATE SPOILERS ?!?!!2!!2!2

THE. WAY BOTH JACK AND RUGGIE ADMIRE LEONA SO MYCH AND FEATURE HIM IN THEIR DREAMS 😭😭😭😭 Jack making Leona basically nOT HAVE DEPRESSION QUFBWKANDK 😭😭 and making him a fair player... Jack my boy... your dream is lovely but you made him do stuff hED NEVER DO 😭😭

AND RUGGIE. THE FACT HE AND LEONA NEVER MET IN THIS DREAM *BUT* THE AMAZING DRESM SCHOOL HE ATTENDS WAS SKGNKENAKjfkenalNIfjeksksn MADE/PROPOSED TO BE MADE (?) BY LEONA 😭😭😭 AND HE SAYS THAT PRINCE LEONA IS MORE POPULAR THAN FALENA AMONGST TYE YOUTH AJFNWKNudnekskalakdknsk tHEY WANT ME DEAD. D E A D.

and then ... ruggie says smth about him choosing the king he'll follow and LATER WHEN REFERRING TO LEONA HE SAYS SMTH TO JACK LIKE. "LET'S GO WAKE UP OUR KING" I'm fuckifnwjzbslakznaklNdkdkals akehueuqjakansksk THEY ADORE HIM SO MUCH. I CAN'T DO THIS.

So this means we'll get a full chapter ONLY for Leona's dream... I don't think we'll see him crying like Jack and Ruggie but GOD IF WE DO SEE THAT I'LL BE FOUND DEAD- i just knowwww that whichever way they go w it (the "he already knows it's a dream theory" or SMTH else), there WILL BE drama and I *WILL* die internally... my Leona plushies will pay the price (they will be hugged very tightly)

[Referencing the book 7 part 11 update!]

Me, coping: Oh, the book 7 Savanaclaw update is split into two parts? That means the first part must be dedicated to Jack and Ruggie and the second part must be Leona only. Surely this means I am free from being sniped in the Jack and Ruggie segment. Me, from the future:

. . .

ME EXPERIENCING THE FIVE STAGES OF GRIEF ALL AT ONCE

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT 💀💀💀 I was kind of expecting some element of respecting their dorm leader to come up (definitely for Jack's), BUT NOT THIS EXTENT OTL

Of the two, Jack's dream was the more obvious one to feature Leona in a very positive light. His admiration for the guy was clear ever since book 2, in which Jack--someone who regularly sucks at expressing his feelings--confessed MULTIPLE TIMES that it was Leona's passionate magift play on TV that inspired Jack to follow in his footsteps. And that's why he was so disappointed to learn that the guy he admired all along was a scumbag that would play dirty to get ahead. The Leona in Jack's dream might be that version that Jack had in his head... The Leona he yearns for the attention and praise of, the Leona he thought was a virtuous leader who values hard work and good sportsmanship, the kind of person who gives speeches to inspire his team and helps people up by the hand when they fall. Another reading could be that this is the Leona Jack believes is still possible if he works toward it, because this dream seems to be set a YEAR after their loss to Diasomnia. And this is Leona at his best and most dangerous because he's throwing literally everything he has into this training, so he'll probably do the same in combat; Yuu and co. have to develop a whole strategy in advance to isolate Jack because they KNOW they're going to get blasted by dream!Leona if they give any inkling of trying to wake the dreamer up. JACK LITERALLY DREAMED ABOUT LEONA THRIVING, BEING HIS BEST SELF... Jack, the self-proclaimed LONE WOLF, who claims he doesn't like GROUP ACTIVITIES/SPORTS, longs to be part of the pack that LEONA leads... But he won't follow just anyone, Jack has standards AND LEONA APPARENTLY MEETS ALL OF THEM (or, in Jack's eyes, Leona can meet those standards).

THEN WHEN JACK WAKES UP... Hoo, boy... The way he was smiling but then broke down into shouts and sobs... That's literally got to be my favorite kind of emotional distress (part of why I loved Idia's breakdown when he was introducing his newly built little brother to the Styx researchers). You can hear how betrayed he feels in his voice, all the raw emotion that didn't come through as strongly in book 2. ASKHLBLBIASDIVDAI SORRY TO DUNK ON BOOK 2 AGAIN BUT IT'S TRUE. Jack's feelings of betrayal... They were so blunted there, it felt like he was reacting to a minor setback (he seems to easily shrug off being called a traitor by the guy he supposedly admires) rather than genuinely being hurt. I'm glad that the emotional weight that wasn't addressed then is finally getting the spotlight it deserves now.

Then Ruggie's dream???? 😭 That one caught me SO off-guard. The way it opens with Yuu and co. suspecting it's Leona's dream because they arrived in Sunrise City, one of the few industrialized places in Sunset Savanna... The lore review of how it's difficult to get the people to get behind developing the land due to how it would negatively impact the nature they want to live in harmony with (plus the brand-new reveal that these disagreements can become VIOLENT)... and Idia realizing that this, THIS is why Leona actually decided to take an internship at an energy and mining lab back home--because Leona realized he cannot change the country on his own, no matter how often he butts heads with his brother. He needs even more knowledge and a team to work with him. An NPC donut vendor lady randomly drops it on us that it's thanks the PRINCE LEONA that Ivorycliff Academy was able to be established. Not only that, but turns out Leona has graduated already and has spent his time after NRC building schools and establishing magift teams for Sunset Savanna (the latter being something Leona expressed interest in, as having a national sport and/or famous sporting teams can enhance his country's soft power). AND HE'S MORE POPULAR AMONG THE YOUTH THAN FALENA IS???????? MR. LEONA I-HATE-DEALING-WITH-KIDS KINGSCHOLAR IS POPULAR WITH... THE KIDS????? ? ?? ?? ?? ? ?? ?????? ?? ? 💀 The guy who claims to only help the underclassmen because they'd otherwise be an inconvenience to him... is admired by the same underclassmen... and now that has translated over to Ruggie's dream as the youth of Sunset Savanna loving him... OTL YOU'RE KIDDING ME RIGHT/????? ? ??? ? ??v????? ? ? ????

The most bewildering detail to me about Ruggie's dream is that he and Leona haven't met at all; Ruggie acts pretty clueless when asked about it and Leona graduated from a completely different school than him (NRC). There's no way they could have met, yet the dream still deemed that Leona was an important enough aspect of Ruggie's life that he was incorporated into it... and, unlike in real life, Leona now has the influence to make these systematic changes not just for bettering Ruggie's life, but the lives of everyone in Sunset Savanna...

UUUURURUGUUGHHGHHHHHHHGHGHHHHHHH H H HH H H HHHHHHH H H H HH H H AND THEN WWHEN RUGGIE FINALLY WAKES UP AND AND ANADNANDANDANASHADSNADSNADSNAN NDDDSDD SD SM ADSB,M ADSDBSM DDD HE CALLS HE WON'T FOLLOW A "FAKE KING", HE WANTS TO CHOSOE THE KING HE FOLLOWS 😭😭😭 RUGGIE TELLS JACK THEY SHOULD GO AND WAKE UP "OUR KING"... Ruggie, who constantly complains about how easy rich people have it and how hard Leona makes him work for his coin, is standing right here and HE'S CHOOSING LEONA.

This is all so crazy to think about because back in book 6 (citing the moment that broke me Yet Again, lmao) Leona implied that while he has hope in others (like Jamil), HE DOESN'T HAVE THE SAME HOPE FOR HIMSELF. But there's literally his whole dorm who trust him to lead them and their futures as professional athletes 😭 Jack who believes Leona is capable of being that shining, ideal senpai he dreamed of... Ruggie who believes Leona can and will change not only his life for the better, but also the lives of marginalized beastmen like hyenas, the younger generation, and heck, why not their whole country too... OTL

THIS IS LITERALLY THE WORST POSSIBLE OUTDCOME FOR ME... . . . . ....... . .. . . . .. . / / / / / . . . .. . .. ... . . . ... . . YOU JAVE JACK'S DREAM SUPPLYING THE RELIABLE BIG BRO/ONII-SAN LEONA... THEN RUGIGE'S DREAM SUPPYL inG THE SMAR TDETERMINED PRINCE LEONA ... AND THEN NEXT UPDAT.E.XBBCXL V.CV . . . . . . . . ...... .. .. . . . . OTL ASCTUAL LEOPJNA DFGFAYVAFIVAVIYAIAGIGEIYGEPEIQAGfhgpaebpyrwqeg,hpgqeugqm[gqepg./l.,pjm9hmh4 gephmhurwhbaudavmudfsgnyofegnyoifui

GOD IF EW SEE THAT BITCH CRYi NG gkj eabihlaegbiaegibyegoqetpr13569 87q3tbkhl3o tyb6fOfonfOTFsugfaiugfanyoigFGION qit' S LEOVER FOR MEAMBFFVHAJVFFVEUGFO EOFAENYFEOFHdhmFSLJGADFsmf aLALLL OF HIS PENT IUP FRUSTRATIONS JUST SPILLING OIUT;V .F,DSBFAHLFLFFNODGOVSMHFAV UEGOFEAHMAEGDGSKPFSHIM THE RAGE AT MALLEUS DFN BAFVKJAFYGLAFGIDGIDGIODGSOIDN FOR FOTRICNG THIS LIE UPON HIMFDS NFASVAEFBLADFIOBY AGIOQEGONYFWmpdphGAMGobf IT'D BE SO SEXSYFDH HOT IF HE KNEW IT WAS A DREAM ALL ALONG PELEEEEEASE 🙏 I'M ONT MY HANDS NAD NDD KNEEESLSD DFS,SFHBAFLHAFDLI EO FQEYG VADGNOVSHUPVPUFFmhagyo 4wpeq/pll.,wjph9q80th9umpdbsaihoadnFSuov fsogyFSGUOFSu SNOGYAVUO FSA

.

.

. Ah-HEM!! 😇 Sorry, I don't know what overcame me... I just blacked out and when I came to I don't remember what I was doing or saying for the past several minutes 💖 Now if you'll excuse me, I am filled with an intense desire to enact violence on the nearest lion-shaped object I can get my hands on--

[elliesglock]

ice live analysis part l | before pazzi cuddle

this live man. can we first of all talk about the implications of this live? literally TRANSFORMED belief in pazzi and fed a whole nation i must say. so ice starts the live off on insta and we kinda just gotta bear w her for the rest of the way cause it's rocky. maybe subconsciously she knew she was launching pazzi the night cause she had us going through WAR to watch this damn thing. also uconn wifi is literally ball sack ass hairs so. from the beginning of the live, we get a pretty good picture to who is already turnt (paige) and to who is getting there (azzi). paige keeps dancing in the shot and she's just in party p mode so you know she's already gone to the world. ice shows azzi and ofc she's looking absolutely stellar and perfect. i know paige was peeing her pants looking at her. i think that's why she gets so feral later on in this live oop but we'll get into that. it starts off pretty normal but in the beginning we hear kayla talking about something that will have a pretty big significance later on in my analysis. it sounds like she's talking to everyone around her about her little shi. it honestly sounds like whoever this is is questioning whether she's at a bar and mad at her for it. ice says, "just tell him ur at the gym doing shots." tryna get her to make a cover story. and ice again is like "what even is a ted you're not there!!" okay wing woman ice literal FARM in this live cause she also gives us one of the biggest pazzi moments ever while also helping kayla tame her little yeah. also tf is going on at ted's we got mfs behind the bar (carol) handing out shots for everyone like she's the bartender. girl your friends are actively launching on main and here she come w the jell-o shots? please give me a break. now atp we see azzi's a tad turnt, especially after we hear caroline handing out shots, she looks ice's camera dead in the face and says do u want a drink do you wanna a drink not even realizing. then in the background she's like OF WATER OF WATER. mind u this girl not even supposed to be drinking but shit azzi ig let's take a shot. the camera eventually gets to paige and girl can't even stand. these two together are the main reason they got caught let's be real, ice just had the camera and was accidentally messy. but paige is dancing like shit and you can tell she's wasted. and she lowkey starts getting very cuddly when she's drunk and the energy around her just seems so flirty and like she's waiting for the minute she can go over and go touch azzi and cuddle up with her. we get a good display of how paige is when she's drunk and for me it really 100% points to her being touchy and craving azzi no matter what. her eyes are low, she's lingering around, she's dancing and smiling like a goof. she's having fun but i know once she gets over there to az she's gonna be begging to hit that bathroom if ykwim. AND OMG tell me why she grins, looks behind her to wear azzi is, and basically power walks over there. ice looks behind her and gives her guilty little smile like she always does. my theory is they were kissing and carrying on this whole live. every time we don't see paige we also don't see azzi just putting that out there. i think they probs disappeared a few times to.....lets just say make out in the bathroom and take some shots. they kinda remain in that corner for a second because ice keeps looking back almost to make sure they don't accidentally come into her shot. she seems very on edge which makes me feel like they def were kissing/making out and she was worried they were too drunk to not accidentally walk into the camera shot. i like to say during all of this everyone legit has no reaction and keeps going on about their own things and it really says to me this is a very normal thing at ted's.

during this next part, im not really a believer of the whole "come make out with me" cause listening with headphones multiple times i legit hear two people talking about wings. there's one beside ice saying "who ordered buffalo wings?" and then off in the distance you hear someone say we ordered wings. this is the person who's often misinterpreted as paige telling azzi to come make out with her. not that she wasn't asking her (she def was) but it wasn't in this moment. sorry yall 🥀.

during pazzi cuddle:

alright this next part needs its own fucking section CAUSE ISUNEH BRADY!!!! u just won us the lottery girly pop. there's a fated comment that starts this whole mess that says "show us da team" and ice not realizing what's happening behind her (poor girl) does a spin of the people behind her. it's very quick and honestly the people who say they can't tell what's happening are liars. it's very obviously paige and azzi are pushed back into the corner and paige has her hand on azzi's waist and azzi has her hand on paige's face and they're smiling. it's seriously the cutest thing ever and they seem so in love idk why people made it seem like it was such a bad thing. i understand the privacy aspect but to deny it when it's obv VERY ROMANTIC body language is insane to me but whatever ig. against popular belief, i don't think they were kissing. i think they just got done kissing. and they were still in the stance for it. paige's hand kinda slowly comes up from azzi's hip which says to me they were just making out and paige was grabbing what is rightfully hers i won't even lie. but at that moment ice turns the camera, they're not. them smiling at each other is so freaking cute they seem very honeymoonish newly wed kinda happy. and to be frank, i find it so beautiful that they are literally surrounded by people their age and their friends, and could be partying and dancing but they're near one another lost in each other. that is the biggest thing the ice live showed me truthfully. that they legit only see each other and no matter how much fun they're having nothings more fun than hanging out with each other and looking into each others eyes and loving on one another. IM SO FUCKING OVER IT PAZZI. now i wanna talk about the implications of this moment because it's huge. first of all, nobody even bats an eye. if they were just friends this whole conversation and closeness would be something everyone's staring at/laughing at, but nobody looks even the slightest bit of surprised. jana's literally looking away and at ice's screen when she's standing right beside them. caroline's holding a whole convo w azzi while paige is actively looking for another kiss from her and getting closer?? that's not normal friend behavior im sorry....also ices reaction. not normal at all either. seeing them in a weird stance like that if they were just friends she wouldn't rip the camera away from them, she'd be like what are yall doing and laugh. just like how she shows A BUNCH of people hanging on paige and eachother and doesn't move the camera. she moves the camera this live when she's showing something she's not supposed to. especially with how wide her eyes get, she knows she's not supposed to be showing this. and she gets all weird and on edge again after this. she knew she just showed fans a couple kissing and cuddling when they weren't out. THATS why she reacts the way she does not because of anything anybody else says. and no don't blame ice for anything she didn't mean too, I'll stab u if u do thank you.