#under the absolute worst conditions imaginable

[toastytrusty]

ok personal headcanon ramble time. MYYYY personal take on hickey's backstory and mental health 👇

in regards to the real cornelius hickey. the big thing -> he did not kill him. i understand why it was done that way in the show, but it doesn't make sense to his arc (read: the slow building horrifying realization that killing someone for the greater good is okay, actually) for him to have killed someone prior to the canon and be so unbothered by killing people. so within my mind palace that did not happen. instead, i like to believe he drugged him and locked him up somewhere on the day of the expedition. this is where it gets reallyyyy I'm Just Making Shit Up-y but. to MEEE. our hickey was having a really bad few years, deep in depression and struggling with alcoholism and whatever else, and eventually meets the Real cornelius hickey at a pub or something. they get close, our hickey is captivated by him, they're probably fucking, and the real hickey tells him about this expedition he's going on to the arctic! how fascinating! and his mental state kinda flips.

dave k has said hickey was written to have npd, which, obviously. no one was questioning that. but i also view him as having bipolar 1. we see Multiple examples within the show of him having what could be considered manic episodes, he gets really paranoid, has an intense fear of not being in control, etc. his delusions of grandeur can all be quite well explained by fits of mania, and he even arguably has moments psychosis (cough double homicide cough. because there is not one singular reason to take all your clothes off in the ARCTIC. he was not in his right mind). and! i think his decision to steal someone's identity and get on an arctic voyage when he's never been to sea in his life was something of a manic decision. he was in a months/years long depressive episode prior to meeting the real cornelius hickey, then he was sequentially thrown into a manic episode, and years of resentment and ambition coalesced into this idea of fleeing britain and making something of himself in o'ahu.

so, he drugs his new friend the night before the expedition, locks him in a closet or shed or something, and takes his place. i think him taking someone else's identity instead of just going as himself is a decision largely more relevant to other aspects of his character, such as the class traitor-ness and general themes of imperialism and bureaucracy in the show, but there is still a very paranoid weight to it. it's also obviously the less rational way to do things, which. yk. manic irrational decision making.

and just for fun. further less psychoanalytical and more thematic personal takes on his backstory:

his mother Was irish, but his father was english, and left before he was born. his mom died of consumption when he was nine and he went to live with his uncle in england. so he Is irish, just never really lived much of his life in ireland. takes the name and face of a real irishman to try clinging to something more real than he has ever felt he was, masking his insecurity. fake caulker fake sailor fake irishman. or whatever.

and the caulker thing. caulkers fill in cracks, fix things, hold everything together. the real hickey being a caulker is one of the things that fascinates our hickey and makes him want to take the real hickey's place. his narcissistic need to be needed. his grandiose delusions that he is the key to everything and only he can save everyone starts with him Becoming someone whose job it is to hold the little pieces of the world together.

from ages 14 to 18 he hung with a group of guys that moved around a lot looking for work, kind of a gang but not really. they had a hunting dog and hickey was more an equal with the dog than with them. they didn't like him. he was tasked with taking care of the dog, and grew to resent it even though it was the closest he had to a friend.

not thematic Or psychoanalytical but i like to believe those guys threw him out of a window on his 18th birthday. For morale. he stopped following them around after that

[luludeluluramblings]

I can't imagine Connor not rushing to Reader when they're giving birth. Or that he'd even miss it.

Like, imagine he's in a situation where he was originally being held hostage or something. But he hears Reader panicking and calling Alfred about them needing to get to the hospital for birth, and Connor turns into this machine of cold, calculative, determination. Uses every trick he's learned from the Bat Family under two different Robins. Just destroys all obstacles and threatens that he has to leave now. So either get out of his way or risk what it means when he doesn't care if you live or die. Breaks the sound barrier as he flies as fast as possible. Barely makes it in time to watch his baby being born and proceeds to allow himself to be used as a heating pad while guarding Reader and his new baby. While trying to do as much skin to skin contact as possible when Reader isn't holding them.

I don't think he'd allow Reader to go with the Bat Fam. Especially if it stresses Reader out.

But say he was off world for a quick mission again, and the baby was early? When he gets back, he's all confused as to why the Reader isn't at their apartment.

He then finds Reader, at the manor, crying from the stress of being a new mom while not even getting to use the baby things they picked! They're not in the nursery Connor painted for them! And the Bat Family won't. Leave. Them. Alone!!! They're going through heavy disassociation and depression. Cause being around all these people that they were sure hated them right before the baby was born? Makes Reader question if they only want them back because of the baby. It also makes Reader so broken.

How could they immediately love the baby, but couldn't ever bother with them?

Connor breaking the both out and flying back to the apartment.

This, this is getting too far ahead. But, it’s beautiful.

A fully yandere!Conner with a scared Reader that just had their newborn would be brutal and terrifying.

He wouldn’t kill anyone. That would just piss the family off more. But, they way he would cut ties with the family or anyone that sides with them would be done in such a cold buisness like manner, that they’d start doubting if they ever where actually friends with him.

Even Injustice!Superman had emotions.

But, Conner? That apathy is all Lex Luthor genetics shinning through. The part of him that makes it so easy to destroy those around him.

Though Conner is using it to defend his family, so he’s justified. But, it would be chilling.

Teammates would be paralyzed, and friendships shattered like some bones.

Do not fuck with his Reader or his child. And, God help you if you fuck with both of them.

As for the other part, I think that would make Reader have so many issues with motherhood if they were allowed to feel that way.

It’s so common for everyone to care about the baby and ask about the baby, when you’re basically at a physical low and exhausted.

I don’t think this would happen with Reader, thankfully. Being pregnant is a state that Reader was in to the family. A condition that bore results.

Some of the family, yes, would obsess with the baby right away. But, the big thing they the want is to watch Reader be themselves and a mother. They will ask, “Are you okay?” “Do you need something?” “Can I get you something?”

Those mommy issues are what’s triggering some of the absolute worst of their yandere tendencies. Anyone that intervenes on Reader being a mother to their child are a villain in the family’s eyes.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Hey guys the Worms are coming back so I’m having thoughts,

tw: a/b/o dynamics, major angst no aftercare, panic attacks, past abuse, military

I love the stories where the 141 (in a/b/o context) are all alphas or a mix, but I also haven’t seen much of them being all omegas, which I think would really make sense.

Imagine it, omegas are more sensitive to their surroundings I think, with sharper instincts and reaction time imo, and they’re probably smaller than the stereotypical alpha so they can move faster. They can stay relatively calm under pressure and suppressants deal with the issue of a heat. I’ve always more imagined the 141 as four omegas, but four that stand out, and are used to criticism from people not in the military that don’t understand their team bonds.

So imagine they one day get news of a new transfer onto their team (maybe replacing soap as he’s recovering from his bullet wound HES NOT DEAD MW3 NEVER HAPPENED) and they’re not worried until they’re told it’s an alpha. An American alpha, too, if I let this get really self indulgent. Americans are loud and proud and annoying, so they fear the worst, you could throw off their team bonds, or make fun of them, or mess up their missions, etc, etc.

But in this imaginary world imagine that omegas also have more societal power than alphas, not physical power though, and you happened to be a victim of alpha-abuse. So what if the alpha that comes is shockingly quiet despite your imposing height and strength, and even looks nervous. The 141 would be absolutely ready for a brawl, I think, scents stinking up the room, only for you to stiffen as your nose stings from the potent mix of scents.

They’d observe you the entire time of the initial scenting, your stiff posture, uncomfortable behavior, and most of all the odd texture and scarring of your scent gland on your neck. Not unusual in your line of work.

After that, they made it clear you were an afterthought.

They wouldn’t let you get them food in the mess, or let you enter their shared nesting area, or even linger in Price’s office. If you covered them on a mission they’d nip at you or give you little low growls. They didn’t like the change to it, having to adjust, or just wanted to prove that they didn’t need an alpha, especially not to replace Soap.

You were trying. You knew you had to work your ass off for their respect and trust, and you were trying so hard. They didn’t seem to care.

Before they’d met you, they’d never thought that an alpha could have anything similar to a distress, nothing even close to the physical and psychological damage and pure stress someone had to be put through to reach that point. That was, until, one day when Ghost yanked you down to his scent gland to take a whiff when you ask how he covers the gunpowder from missions in his scent (spoiler: he doesn’t) and you just completely…freak out.

Shoving him away, eyes wide and looking through him, heart rate and breathing too fast. You’d absolutely booked it to your lone, sterile room that was the opposite of their cozy nest. It had taken a good hour just for Price and the rest to drag a medic and find out what the hell was wrong, only for you to be diagnosed with “Cane Baker Condition”,

“It’s, essentially, a form of PTSD related to a secondary gender, or experiences with one in a negative light. Think like a panic attack that lasts until their body is convinced they’re safe. Keep them out of bright light, away from loud noises or anything triggering for them, and give them some recognizable items from the nest, and they’ll snap out of it.”

It was then that they’d realized you had no recognizable items. Because they’d not let you even have a chance to enter their nest, and here they were now. You, lying underneath your piss poor bed in a pitch black room with one blanket in a sad mockery of a nest for comfort, getting as close to a panicked whimper that an alpha could between every breath.

Now they had to figure out how to earn your trust and respect, especially after they’d given absolutely none to you, neglected and abused you, for weeks.

should I make this a series?? (midterms are almost over so I’ll be more active soon, so far I’ve passed all of them!)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[salemrph]

Wine, Lies and Longing

Summary: You win a romantic vineyard getaway, a dream escape you never expected. Unsure of who to take, you impulsively invite Sylus. What starts as playful pretending, soon becomes something far more real. In the heart of the vineyard, surrounded by the sweetness of wine and the glow of moonlight, you begin to wonder: is this just an act, or the start of something you’ve always longed for?

Based on the new banner Night Rendezvous!

Character: MC x Sylus // Genre: romantic, soft, explicit sexual content // Pet names: Kitten, Sweetie // Word count: 8,827 | Reading Time: 35 min | AO3 |

A/N: This was written before Night Rendezvous officially dropped, inspired by the clips we’ve seen over the past two days. Please note there might be some errors—I was absolutely frantic about the banner while writing this! I just couldn’t get Sylus out of my head.

WARNINGS: mdni, biting, penetration, cum. Remember, fanfics are not a reliable source of sexual education. For questions about protection and birth control, talk to your doctor.

A weeks ago, after visiting your regular supermarket to pick up your usual after-mission dinner set, the kind cashier, while taking your point card, reminded you about the ongoing special raffle.

"Miss, do you want to participate in the lottery?" You looked at the display banner on the counter. The image of serene mountains under a captivating sunset, the sparkle of a drop of water on a bunch of grapes, and the faces of people happily enjoying an unforgettable moment. “Two days in a mountainous region with beautiful views” it read— a getaway promising wine, relaxation, and a fleeting escape from your daily chaos. You paused for a moment, thinking that a vacation wouldn’t be a bad idea, especially since you’d been continuously working on missions, paperwork, and grueling training sessions. You let out a soft sight, the exhaustion creeping into your thoughts. What could happen? In worst case, you would not win the prize, and at the moment, simply filling out the digital form will maybe bring you closer to a small break. Without overthinking it, you nodded, typed in your details, and submitted your entry.

Not even sure, when that happens, you blink a couple of times while checking your email. You can hardly believe your eyes. You won, you actually won that stupid getaway for two! The excitement bubbles up in you like champagne, because you never win anything. You can already imagine the fresh air, the rolling hills, the luxury of it all. You want to scream. You do a little dance in your living room. This is how it should be. Without thinking twice, you call Tara to share the news. After a few rings, she picks up.

"Hey, my favorite person!" she say cheerful like always.

"Tara, guess what?" you ask enthusiastic, you don't wait for her to answer "I won a trip for two to a vineyard! Wanna go on a girls' trip?"

"Say what?! Really? That's amazing!"

"I know! I'm really excited." you explain to Tara briefly what kind of trip it is. “Oh, we could have a lot of fun. Are you in?”

"Oh, I would love to, but… isn’t this kind of trip for couples?" You freeze, your smile faltering.

"Couple? Let me check..."

A shadow of doubt creeps in, heavy and unwelcome. Frowning, you swipe back to the email announcing your prize, it took you a moment to go trough the conditions. Your stomach tightening as your eyes land on the fine print: Only couples allowed. Your mind races, a mix of disappointment and worry swirling inside you. You stare at the screen, torn between laughing at the absurdity and groaning at your oversight.

"What should I do?" you ask, feeling a little lost.

"We could just say we’re a couple" says Tara laughing a bit.

You lean back against the couch, chewing on the idea. Pretending wouldn’t be that hard, would it? It’s not like the vineyard is going to demand proof of your relationship. Still, the idea feels... complicated. Then Tera continues with a playful tone.

"Or..." she teases, "...you could ask Mr. Skye to go with you? He has a crush on you. Maybe this is the perfect chance to level up your relationship with him."

The thought alone makes your cheeks heat up. Sylus? Taking him with you? Your heart flutters. It wouldn't be the first time with him on a trip but... on a exclusive couple trip? You remember the time you were with him in that castle, telling you that weird story to help you fall asleep, but you strangely ended up being bitten by him on the neck. Your cheeks are starting to burn, the feeling of his teeth on your skin was intense. You put a hand on your neck, it feels like it was yesterday.

“Are you there?” You shake you head, trying to come back to the conversation.

“Really? Are you serious?” feeling a mix of curiosity and disbelief.

“Why not? He’s hot, you’re hot, and it’s a romantic vineyard trip. It practically screams opportunity!” Her words make you feel more nervous and you go silent again. She only wants to ship you with him. Her personal real time K-drama. "I think you should ask him,” she presses, a bit insistently. “It could be fun. Worst case? You survive the trip. Best case? You come back as a couple. Just saying"

“Tara...” you sigh. “I don't like him—"

“Bullshit!” she cuts you off, her voice cheerful and confident. “You have a thing for him, admit it! Be happy with him. You know what? I’m not going with you.” She laughs. “Ask him and have fun! And call me for the little dirty details. Byee”

“Wait! Tara?!” And with that, the call is over, leaving you staring at your phone.

You groan. The room feels too quiet, too charged with the sudden possibility. Sylus—always confident, always composed—would undoubtedly say yes. You could already imagine his reaction: that cocky tilt of his head, his dark eyes narrowing with amusement. You bite your lip. Tara is right, he is hot. Terribly hot.

You glaze on your phone, fingers hovering over the screen. Should I, shouldn't I text him? Your heart is racing. How could you wrap this up to make it less... weird? The last time you came up with a plan, it wasn’t that difficult, was it? The couple photo shoot... well, OTTO was very insistent that you take part in it. In the end, it was fun... and you had a kind of romantic moment with Sylus. Maybe you can see this as a payback of all the time he help you with stuff.

But why Sylus? You could just ask the other friend you have, right? You go through the scenario in your head, imagining how it might go if you asked Zayne, Xavier or Rafayel. I mean, the boys are cool, but bringing your co-worker/neighbour could be very relaxing. Xavier wouldn’t be interested in the wine, but he’d enjoy the fresh mountain air. Zayne... you sighed. He was always too busy to go anywhere. Rafayel could be fun, but the idea of playing bodyguard while travelling didn’t appeal to you. You're starting to feel sleepy from all this thinking, and feel like to take a nap is the right solution to not deal with this. It's early in the morning. Or should you maybe have a coffee and go for a run. You sigh. This can't be so complicated.

After what feels like an eternity of hesitation, you finally decide to at least ask Sylus first. Just as you gather the courage to type something, your phone buzzes. A call from him.

“What are you doing?” he says without even saying hello.

“Working” you lie.

“You sound tired, kitten.” he says, a hint of concern threading through his voice. „I thought you were going to take a break after all that missions”

You feel the warmth in his ton, it make you feel... good. “I'm planning too.” Thinking how to bring up the trip. “I just need to finish a few things.”

There’s a pause before he speaks again, the softness of his words taking you by surprise. “If you ever feel overwhelmed, you're always welcome at my place”. You smile like an idiot without notices it. If Tera were there she would have teased you about that.

“I will...” you try to compose yourself. “Why are you calling me now? Isn't this you bed time hour?

He laugh softly, a sound that always seems to melt your heart if you're not careful “I like to hear your voice before I go to bed. That's way I call”.

“I see...” you murmur.

“What are you planning to do?”

“Well...” you hesitate, the words feeling awkward in your throat. “I won this trip for two to a vineyard. I was talking to Tara, she doesn't have the time to come with me. And I... I know it’s a couple’s thing, but I would be a shame—”.

“Go to the point, kitten” he interrupts with a laugh.

“I wanted to ask you, if...” you close you eyes, as if that would save you the embarrassment in case he says no. “...you could come with me? I owe you for few things.”

There’s a moment of silence before he answers, his voice calm, yet with an undertone of amusement. “Sure, I’ll go. Wouldn’t want you to miss out.“ The relief washes over you, but there’s a strange flutter in your chest too. You try to ignore it. “Send me the details.”

“Alright. Sleep well.”

“Thanks, kitten.”

...

When you finally arrive with him at the vineyard, the atmosphere is perfect. The air is crisp, the vineyards stretch out beneath a sky painted in soft pastels, and the scent of fresh earth and ripe grapes lingers. The estate’s stone pathways crunch softly beneath your feet as you make your way to the guest rooms.

The room is picturesque and charming, with rustic wooden beams and a window overlooking the sprawling vineyard. But your eyes are drawn immediately to the bed. One bed. A king-sized one, with crisp white sheets and pillows that seem to mock you with their perfect arrangement. Your heart skips a beat at the sight, the reality of it sinking in. Calm down! You have slept with him in one bed, more then you want to count.

Sylus steps inside behind you, he sets your and his bag down, his usual confidence radiating from him like a second skin.

“Looks cozy” he says, his voice smooth, his smirk just shy of teasing.

You manage a laugh, though it comes out shaky. “Cozy is one way to put it.”

He raises an eyebrow, leaning against the wall with an ease that makes your stomach flip. “You nervous already? We haven’t even opened the wine yet.”

You roll your eyes, desperate to mask the heat creeping up your neck. “As if. Just… surprised, that’s all.” He chuckles, the sound low and velvety, sending a shiver through you.

“Surprised, huh?” Then, with a playful tilt of his head. “Relax, my love” You get goosebumps hearing him say those words. The pet name drips with mockery, but the way he says it makes your breath hitch.

“You don´t have to call me that”

“Why not? This is a couples trip, doesn't it?” His smile is maddeningly confident, his tone bordering on a challenge. You let out a long sigh, trying to steady the flustered mess inside you.

“You’re really leaning into this, aren��t you?”

He straightens, stepping closer—too close. His voice drops just enough to make your pulse quicken. “We want to make it convincing. Or do you have a better plan?”

It’s not the first time you’ve had to pretend to be couple or lover, or whatever, but somehow, this feels different. You’re not on a mission with him, not playing a part for someone else's benefit. This is personal—too personal.

Sylus strides over to the bed, his movements deliberate. He sits down with the kind of ease that suggests he owns the space, leaning back on one arm as if the room was made for him. You perch on the edge of the bed, trying to relax, but every part of you is hyper-aware of his presence—the faint spice of his cologne, the quiet rustle of his shirt as he shifts, the heat radiating from him even at a distance.

“No, I don't.” you say annoyed “I... just hope we can enjoy this.” Your words trail off as you glance out the window, desperate for a distraction. It’s definitely a super romantic place, the kind of setting you’d see in a movie. You cling to the view, hoping its beauty will steady your swirling thoughts.

Sylus looks over at you, a faint smirk on his lips.

"I’m sure it’ll be enjoyable, either way. We’re in the right place for it" he says, his voice low and confident, as if he already knows how the weekend will unfold. You swallow hard, forcing a smile.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs, his smirk deepening. “I’ll make sure you enjoy yourself.”

You turn your gaze back to the vineyard, trying to steady your racing thoughts. This is just a weekend, you remind yourself. It’s just Sylus.

...

The agenda for the day is simple—nothing too complicated. Just a tour of the property, along with the other couple staying at the vineyard. Then, a wine tasting session to enjoy the local flavours, followed by a leisurely dinner under the stars. Afterwards, you’re meant to relax, enjoy the evening, and retire to bed. Easy, right?

But despite how simple it sounds. As you make your way through the vineyard with Sylus by your side, everything feels heightened, even the sound of your footsteps crunching on the gravel path. The soft laughter of the other couple fills the background, but it feels distant. In your distraction, you trip slightly over your feet. Why are you even wearing heals? You catch yourself, but before you can fully regain balance, Sylus is there—his hand firm on your arm, pulling you closer. He steadies you effortlessly, his proximity sending a rush of warmth through you.

“Give me your hand,” he murmurs, his voice low, smooth. You blink, still a little off-balance, and look up at him, confused “What?” He smirks, his eyes glinting with amusement. “You surely don’t want to break you ankle or ruin your dress, do you?” His words are wrapped in a teasing edge. You eye him suspiciously, your pulse racing.

“Besides,” he continues in a soft whisper, his breath warm against your ear, “that’s what couples do. Care for each other.”

The heat of his hand in yours makes your heart race, his touch unexpectedly gentle, sending a shiver down your spine. You try to focus, try to shake off the unexpected flutter in your chest. But his proximity, his warmth, makes it hard to think clearly. Maybe…

The tour guide’s voice weaves through the warm air, narrating the history of the vineyard with practiced ease. But you barely register the words.

The wine tasting that follows feels like an eternity. Each sip is a kaleidoscope of flavours, yet none hold your focus for long. The richness of the reds, the crispness of the whites—they all blur together as you try to ground yourself, but it’s impossible with Sylus nearby. His gaze lingers too long, his teasing comments too precise, cutting through your resolve with the ease of a knife through silk.

“Not bad,” he says, his voice low and smooth as he swirls the wine in his glass. His dark eyes glint with amusement. “But I’ve tasted better.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to play it cool. “Oh, I didn’t realice you were such a wine connoisseur.”

He leans in slightly, his tone dropping just enough to make your breath catch. “I have a talent for recognising quality.”

A smile tugs at your lips, genuine this time. You can't help it. Each exchange feels like a dance, his confidence pressing against your composure in a way that leaves you breathless. Actually, you want to bite back with some sharp words, but there it is. That soft smile, the same one he had after the boxing match, under the falling snow... Your lips part, but instead of speaking, you just look back at him. Everything seems to slow down. Is the wine affecting you? For a heartbeat, neither of you speaks. For a fleeting second, you wonder if he feels it too. You eyes darts on this lips, how would they taste?

And then, just before the moment slips away, he does something unexpected. He sets his glass down, his movements fluid, and without breaking eye contact, he reaches out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. His touch is light, but it lingers just long enough to make your skin tingle.

Before you can even process it, a soft tap on your shoulder pulls you from the moment. Two women approach, giggling like schoolgirls, their eyes sparkling with mischief.

They interrupt the bubble you’ve found yourself in, and the weight of Sylus’s touch vanishes as if it was never there. But the heat in your chest lingers, a faint trace of the connection that just passed between you.

“Excuse me” one of them says, her voice light and playful as she glances between you and Sylus. The other nudges her, stifling a giggle, and you can already feel the familiar mix of curiosity and dread bubbling up.

“We couldn’t help but notice” the first woman continues, her smile widening, “you two are just the cutest couple. You’ve got this… spark. It’s like you stepped out of a romance novel!”

You blink, caught off guard, the glass of wine freezing halfway to your lips. A flush rises to your cheeks, and you can feel Sylus shift beside you, his presence suddenly more commanding.

“Oh, really?” he says smoothly, his tone carrying that trademark confidence. He slides an arm casually around your waist, pulling you just close enough to make your pulse quicken. “Well, I’m glad we’re keeping the vineyard’s reputation for romance alive.

His words, so effortlessly delivered, make the women swoon audibly. “The way you two look at each other—it’s just magical!”

You force a laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound as strained as it feels. “Thanks” you manage, your voice tight as Sylus’s hand lingers on your hip, warm and steady.

“Are you two married?”

“No” you say quickly, your voice a little too sharp, too defensive.

Sylus, however, doesn’t miss a beat. He looks at you, then smiles smoothly at the women. “No but...” he says as he looks back at you. “Our soul are already bound, so is better then marriage.”

The women gasp, eyes widening in surprise. “Such a poetic man...” the first woman exclaims. “You two are perfect together!”

You blink, momentarily stunned, unsure of how to react. Sylus doesn’t seem at all phased by the lie, his calm demeanor making it feel like a perfectly natural thing to say.

“Thanks” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “We’re very happy.”

You smile politely, trying to shake off the warmth creeping up your neck. The words linger in your mind as you finish your wine, but you can’t help but feel a little more self-conscious now. They really think you’re with him. You can’t help but wonder if the lines between roll playing and reality are already starting to blur.

The women chat a little longer, their compliments spilling over like the wine in their glasses. Finally, they flit away, their laughter trailing behind them as they disappear into the crowd.

You exhale sharply, stepping out of Sylus’s hold and turning to him with narrowed eyes. “Really? Our soul are bound? Better then marriage?”

He grins, unfazed, leaning closer until his voice drops low enough that only you can hear. “What?” His gaze locks onto yours, his smirk softening into something almost tender. “Saying the true is sometime easier then coming up with some lie, sweetie”

Maybe he’s enjoying this a little too much. But if he’s enjoying it, why don’t you enjoy it too? You think to yourself, a strange thought whispering at the back of your mind. Even if it’s just for this trip, just for the moment.

The wine has already begun to work its magic, loosening your inhibitions and making everything feel just a little more carefree. Before you can fully think it through, you find yourself clinging to Sylus’s arm, your fingers lightly gripping the sleeve of his jacket. The warmth of his presence settles against you, his steady pulse beneath your touch a reminder of just how close he is. You feel the tension in your chest ease, replaced by something else, something much more complicated.

Sylus’s smile stretches wide as he looks down at you, the corner of his lips curling in that smug, almost predatory way he always does when he knows he’s got your attention.

The quiet hum of the evening settles back in. It’s as if a small door has been opened, and you’re not entirely sure what’s on the other side, but for now, you’re curious enough to stay a little longer.

Sylus doesn’t move, his arm still locked with yours, and when he finally speaks, his voice is low and teasing. “Enjoying yourself so far, sweetheart?”

You glance up at him, maybe... just maybe... it won’t be as simple as you expected.

…

Dinner arrives just as the sun dips below the horizon, casting the sky in soft, dusky hues. The air feels cooler now, but the warmth of the intimate atmosphere wraps around you, drawing you closer to the cozy setting. The flickering candlelight dances across the stone walls, casting playful shadows that seem to shift with every movement. It’s romantic, the kind of dinner scene you only see in movies, and for a moment, it feels like you’re part of a story you’re not sure you want to end.

Sylus is seated next to you, his tall frame glowing softly in the dim light. He’s quieter than usual, but his presence is undeniable. Every now and then, his eyes flicker to yours, and there’s something in the way he looks at you that makes you want to jump from your chair and lose yourself in him right there.

During the dinner, you find yourself addressing him a few times as “my love” or “honey”, while taking in the large group at the table. The words slip from your lips without thinking, and each time they do, a little thrill runs through you. You’re playing the part, but in some strange way, you realize you’re not pretending anymore. You’re enjoying it, living it.

You let your fingers brushed against his hand, and before you know, you’re subtly holding his hand beneath the table. The simple touch sends warmth up your arm. The intimacy of the gesture, hidden from the others, feels like a secret shared between just the two of you. You pass him food, feeding each other bites of your meals, exchanging tastes like lovers. Each touch, each glance, each shared moment feels more natural than it should.

You’re lost in the closeness, in the warmth of the evening, in the role you’re playing so effortlessly. It feels easy, too easy, to slip into this new dynamic with him. And for the first time since you arrived, you stop questioning it. For tonight, you’re his beloved. And maybe, just maybe, you can stay like this forever.

The evening winds down, and you’re a bit tipsy, your cheeks flushed with a soft pink. You decide to step outside for some fresh air, leaving Sylus talking to the owner of the vineyard. The nice warm sun is long gone, and the coldness of the mountains is a refreshing contrast to it. The vineyard stretches out before you, bathed in moonlight, and the quiet of the night feels peaceful. You feet are hurting, you've been walking with high heels all day.

You take a deep breath, feeling good, light, and free. For the first time in a while, you realize something you hadn’t fully allowed yourself to consider: You’re in love with him. There’s no denying it anymore. It’s there, right at the center of your heart, a truth you can’t shake. The way he looks at you, touches you—Every glance, every subtle move he makes, has stirred something deep inside you.

You stop for a moment, letting the breeze tousle your hair, and close your eyes. You’re here. You’re alive. And for this moment, you’re letting yourself feel what you feel, without worrying about what comes next. There’s something beautiful in the simplicity of it, in allowing yourself to just be in love with him. Tonight, you are free to love him, even if you don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

As you walk over the veranda, along wooden floor, you heels clicking, feeling the silence around you, lost in your thoughts, you hear his voice cut through the stillness.

"My beautiful beloved, where are you going?" Sylus’s voice is smooth, playful.

You turn around and give him the most sincere smile you've ever shown him. If someone else had seen the look on your face at that moment, they might have thought you'd given him your whole heart in that single expression. And if someone had told you what Sylus felt when he saw you smile like that, you might not have believed them.

You’re startled to find him so close, just a few steps behind you, his figure illuminated by the silvery glow of the moonlight. His eyes are fixed on you, that familiar, confident smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your heart race. "Just needed a moment," you reply softly.

He steps closer, his presence magnetic, his gaze never leaving yours. "I see."

The heat of the wine bubbles up in your chest, but it’s the way he stands there, close, that makes the moment feel heavier than it should. He watches you as if he’s trying to decode something, a quiet challenge in his eyes. Then, without another word, he removes his jacket, the fabric brushing against your arms as he drapes it over your shoulders.

“Thank you” you say a bit shy.

“No need.”

The silence stretches between you, but it’s not uncomfortable. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s glaring at you. You step closer to the railing, perching on it with half your body leaning out, the cool breeze brushing against your skin. Your mind drifts, flitting from thought to thought, nowhere in particular yet everywhere all at once. You’re enjoying it more than you expected. You hate to admit it, but Tera was right. You’ll need to thank her for pushing you to this.

“You’re staring” you say softly, trying to sound playful but failing to hide the nervous edge in your voice.

“Am I?” he counters smoothly, the smirk growing as he tilts his head slightly. “Maybe I just like what I see.” Your cheeks flush, but you don't look at him. Your eyes are still locked on the scenery.

“Mm-hmm” you hum.

“You’re quiet.” He remarks after a moment, his voice softer now, almost contemplative. “Something on your mind?”

You take a steadying breath, eyes still on the horizon. “Just... enjoying the view.”

He chuckles low. “Good to know I’m not the only one. Though, as beautiful as this is, we should head back—I’ve got something prepared for us.”

You tilt your head in curiosity, trying to read his expression, but before you can ask he gently takes you hand. You suppress a sigh as he guide you to stand up from the railing. You follow him, but the moment your feet hit the ground, the discomfort you’d been ignoring flares up. The cooling evening air has made the snug fit of your pretty shoes unbearable. You let out a soft whine as you take a couple of steps, causing Sylus to stop immediately. He turns, his brows furrowing with concern.

“What wrong?” You shake your head quickly, not wanting to make a fuss.

“It’s nothing... just my feet hurt a little”.

His gaze drops to your shoes, assessing the situation in an instant. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Sylus lets out a sigh, but the corner of his mouth quirks up in a half-smile. “You’re hopeless sometimes, kitten.” Without another word, he scans the area, his gaze landing on a nearby chair on the veranda. He strides over to it, picks it up, and places it gently in front of you.

“Sit” he commands, his tone leaving no room for argument. You do as he said then he kneels in front of you.

“What are you—?” you start to protest, but he cuts you off with a knowing look.

“Taking them off. Lift your leg.”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the intimacy of the moment not lost on you. You hesitate for a moment, but his steady gaze convinces you, and you lift your leg. The touch of his fingers on your ankle is electrifying. The dress you're wearing is riding up a bit. Concerned that he might catch a glimpse under the skirt, you discreetly try to lower it. Sylus doesn’t seem to notice or care, his focus entirely on your feet as he gently works to ease the discomfort you’re feeling. Still, you’re glad you're wearing cute panties, just in case something... happens? A few moments later your feet have been released from their prison, you feel relieved.

“This feels better, thanks” you say softly.

“Look at that, a second thanks I get today” he chuckles. Sylus stands up a little and leans over you. He's too close. "Hold on tight."

You feel his hands slide under your thighs and the other hand behind your back. In an instant, you find yourself lifted into his arms. You curl up instinctively, wrapping your arms around his neck, your body seeking the warmth and security he offers. His eyes flicker to your shoes, the red and black mist picks them up, placing them in one of his hand, not breaking stride as he carries you effortlessly.

“Put me down, Sylus” you say, a hint of laughter in your voice despite the situation.

“Do you want to walk barefoot?” he replies, his tone teasing but unwavering as he holds you close, his grip firm and steady. “Stay still, fussy kitten.”

With a pout you stop squirming in his arms, the smell of his perfume mixed with wine is incredible. You feel almost drunk, not from the wine itself but from the sweet and earthy mix that fills your senses, an alluring combination that invades your nose and makes your head spin just a little. You want to bit his neck.

He walks with you in his arms through the mansion, past couples lingering in the dining room. You catch a few glances from them, including the two women from earlier, who sigh at such an adorable image. A sense of pride swells inside you, and you feel almost lucky, as if you’re the center of attention in the best way possible. As you continue down the hallway toward your room, you look up, and your eyes meet his. That look again. Soft and tender.

As the door opens, you blink in surprise. The room is lit by soft candlelight and the chimney, the air sweet with the scent of fresh flowers, and a bottle of wine chilling in ice sits on the table. It feels like something straight out of a romance movie.

"Sylus, you don’t need to pretend in here" you say low, the question hanging in the air.

He meets your gaze, unfazed. "I’m not pretending." his tone very calm. You raise an eyebrow. He gently lowers you onto the bed, his hands steady and careful. He places your shoes on the floor beside the bed.

"Were you pretending before, being touchy and calling me pet names?" His question hits you like a spark.

You blush, stumbling over your words. "I..."

"It’s alright," he cuts in. “Lay down if you tried. It has been a long day” he look down, while unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the sculpted muscles of his chest. The sight is fascinating and you can’t help but feel the absurd urge to lick every inch.

“I'm not” you feel your restraint cracking inside you, the longing for him is taking over.

“If you don't want to lie down” he continues, his voice smooth but with a hint of challenge “we can make the most of our time before dawn.” He step back, turning to the sofa for a moment. “Do you want some wine?”

This feels insane. You feel insane, but how long can you hold back? Isn’t this the perfect setup—wine, candlelight, fresh flowers, and a whole weekend for two? It’s a scene straight out of a dream. You stand up from the bed, your bare feet soft against the floor. Your body reacts before your mind can catch up, desire surging within you, irresistible and raw. You walk toward him, feeling both bold and vulnerable, wanting something more.

“Forget the wine” you say, almost offended by the suggestion. Without the heels, you feel smaller in front of him, but the fire inside you pushes that discomfort aside. You place one hand on his bare chest, feeling the warmth of his skin under your fingers.

Sylus looks down at your hand, his gaze flickering to yours with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. “I thought you were done with touching” he teases. You don’t answer, your pulse quickening. Damn him, it feels so good. Your fingers trace the opening of his black shirt, and you notice the slight change in his breathing. It’s subtle at first, but you can feel it—the way his chest rises and falls more sharply.

Sylus takes a slow, deliberate breath, his eyes locking with yours. You can tell he's holding back, but just barely. You smile, a little smug, pushing him down onto the sofa. He falls with a loud thud, but before he can settle, you quickly sit on his lap, both legs draped at his sides. Your dress shifts up with the movement, but this time, it doesn’t matter. You want to provoke him more than ever. Your hand returns to his chest, tracing irregular lines with your finger, the soft skin beneath your touch sending a pang of pleasure through your body. You can’t stop yourself from drawing closer, feeling the magnetism between you pull tighter with each passing second. He watches you intently, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You feel alive, every nerve on edge.

Your eyes flicker between his chest, his lips, and his eyes—his smoldering, unreadable eyes. You want to kiss him. The desire to feel his lips on yours is overwhelming, and you can’t fight it any longer.

Without thinking, you place your hand on his neck, your fingers trailing up to his cheek, the warmth of his skin... why did you take so long to get closer to him? At this point, that cute black underwear you wearing is wet, soak even. The heat between your thighs almost unbearable. Does he know what you want to do next? His playful, almost knowing look in his eyes would definitely say yes. You feel his control slipping, and it makes you ache for him even more.

You close the distance, moving your hand at the back of his neck, as you pull him closer. The moment your lips meet, everything else fades away. The warmth of his lips, the intensity of his touch, it's everything you've been feeling building up to this. You melt into the kiss, your body pressing closer to his, a wave of desire crashing over you. His hands move instinctively, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss, and you respond just as fiercely, your heart pounding in your chest. You pull away breathless, your chest rising and falling with each quickened breath in the silence that follows. You look into his eyes, wide with disbelief at what just happened, your mind still trying to catch up with your body. Again, again, again, please.

Sylus moves forward, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. You sigh in both pleasure and relief, feeling every inch of the tension melt away as his kiss deepens, as if it’s the only thing that matters in this moment. You feel his hand gently but firmly cup your cheek, his touch sending a shiver through you.

The kiss is fierce and consuming, his urgency matching your own as his other hand slides between your shoulder blades, pulling you against his chest. His body presses into yours, as if he can’t bear to be apart for even a moment. His tongue tangles with yours, a messy, erotic dance that sends shivers down your spine, down to your core. It’s chaotic, passionate, and you can’t help but surrender to it. All you can feel, all you can think about, is him—his warmth, his touch, the raw desire radiating from him, and the storm building between you both. You’re lost in the sensation, in the wildness of the kiss, the taste of him.

Sylus adjusts his position slightly, moving you with him as he shifts uncomfortably on the couch. He needs to be able to focus—focus on you, on your lips, on his throbbing desire in his pants that's driving him crazy. The tightness in his pants is almost unbearable. The soft material of your dress became a frustrating barrier to his touch, his hands hover over you, desperate to feel more.

„S- sylus...“ you manage to say between kisses, your voice filled with need. “Bed...“ His grip tightens around you hips. You can feel his hard dick between your legs since a while. He gives you a slow, deliberate kiss.

"Alright" he murmurs, he lifts you effortlessly into his arms. You instinctively wrap your legs around his hips, your body pressing against him as he moves swiftly toward the bed. The kiss never breaks as he places a knee on the bed, shifting you to the center, and gently lowers you onto the soft sheets. Your body tingles with the need for him, every inch of your skin alive, and the way he hovers just above you makes you feel like you're teetering on the edge of something you've both been craving since the being.

His nose brushing along the curve of you neck, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin. Then, the slow, intentional sweep of his tongue follows, sending a wave of electric shivers down your spine. You let out a soft whimper. Sylus hums against your neck.

He moves back, kneeling between your legs, and gently places one hand at the back of your thigh, moving down to lift you leg. His touch is careful, his eyes never leaving yours. Your dress moves up, covering barley your panties. He kiss you inner thigh, and move down to your knee.

Sylus's gaze darkens, and a small, almost smug smile plays at the corners of his mouth. His voice is low, raw with need. He pauses, lips brushing lightly over your knee before pulling back slightly, meeting your eyes again. "You haven't changed your mind, have you? Because... I just can't hold back anymore."

“No, but...”you pause, unsure where the insecurity is coming from. Sylus lifts an eyebrow, sensing the shift.

“Speak, my love” You sit up slightly, reaching for his face, your fingers gently tracing the spot where you had cut him the first time you met. Sylus gasps at your touch, the surprise in his reaction softening your own doubts.

“Am I being too greedy... if I ask you to keep your eyes only on me? He takes your hand, his grip firm yet tender.

“You always had that right.” He presses a soft kiss to your wrist. "Which means... you can be even greedier. Do you want it, kitten?"

“Yes” you smile, the tension easing slightly.

He leans in slowly “Good“ his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss, first teasing with a slow lick before diving deeper, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hungry urgency. You fall back on the bed with him, he assaults your neck, with bites marking your skin as he has always wanted. His breath near your ear is driving you wild.

You gasp against him, your hands gripping his shoulder as you pull him closer. You find yourself not wanting to stop, not wanting to break away. The overwhelming sensation burns like fire. You elevate you hips to met his. Why is he taking so long?

"Looks like we're on the same page when it comes to not waste time." Sylus caress you cheek. You pout, turning your head away to avoid his gaze, but he’s quicker. He tilts your chin back toward him with a gentle but firm touch. "Stay focused, kitten" he murmurs playful.

Before you can respond, he moves his hand to cover your eyes "Don't look" he begins to kiss you again, his breath coming out in sharp gaps. What does he mean? You want to see him—to witness his composure faltering, to know you’re the one making him feel this way.

Sylus seems to savour the moment, his quiet sounds of pleasure against your lips filling the air like a melody only the two of you can hear. To you, it’s music—raw, intoxicating, and divine—a symphony of the gods, stirring a desire so pure and all-consuming it leaves you breathless. The weight of his body presses against yours, his movements slow as he grinds against you. The pressures of his hardness between your legs.

His long fingers trail down your arm, stopping at your wrist before moving to your palm. He laces his fingers with yours, squeezing hard, grounding you in the intensity of the moment. You melt to his touch. A soft whimper escapes your lips, and he chuckles faintly, the sound vibrating against your skin. The heat coursing through your body is dizzying, your thoughts hazy as the fabric of your fucking clothing feels increasingly stifling, an annoying barrier to his touch.

“You're not allowed to stop me until I'm finished.” he whisper, you nod. You starting to get desperate. You pull at his shirt with your other hand. Sylus smirks as he lets you remove his shirt a bit clumsy. The shirt falls finally to the floor in a careless heap, forgotten. His hands move to your thigh, slipping beneath the fabric of your dress. His fingers pressing into your skin as if staking a claim.

Sylus shifts slightly as his lips trail a path down your jaw. His other hands move with purpose, finding the hidden zipper of your dress on your back. You lean into him, your hands getting behind the waistband of his pants. Sylus smirks at your impatience, his fingers pausing briefly. The sound of it lowering fills the quiet space, mingling with the soft hum of your unsteady breaths. The fabric loosens, slipping off your shoulders.

Your hands moving to his belt, fumbling slightly as your nerves spark with adrenaline. He catches your wrist, stilling you for a moment. “You're truthly restless” he says with a teasing smirk, leaning down to kiss you again, as if savouring every second. He moves slightly to help you lift your dress over your head, the soft fabric slipping away easily and pooling on the floor beside his discarded shirt. You’re glad now that you picked out your favourite set—black with little red details you thought he might notice. From the way his eyes linger on you, it’s clear he does.

Your hands slide back to his waist. You glance up at him, and he gives you a small nod, his smirk never fading. Slowly, you undo the button and tug the fabric down over his hips. Sylus moves just enough to help you, kicking them off before settling back against you. Black boxer. Sexy. You bite your lips when your eyes fall on the the bulge you've been wanting to see for so long. Is pressing hard against the fabric, you can see the size and then the wet stain off precum.

Even is Sylus love to see you in you beautiful set, and would love to contemplate you more. His cock is starting to hurt, and your lascivious gaze on his good piece isn't making it any better. He puts his hand on your back again, without realising it your breasts are exposed. The bra...it doesn't matter.

He exhales loudly, he can't remember how many times he's wanted to undress you since he met you. His beloved, his heart, his curse, his everything. Make you his. Bite, lick, kiss, sweating together, feeling your pussy wet around his cock. Hearing his name while coming because of him. His mind races, each thought more urgent than the last. This is it. Finally. You’ve said yes, you’ve chosen him. You love him back, and it's everything he’s ever dreamed of. That thought ignites his desire even more, the last bit of restraint crumbling away in his mind.

His body presses against yours with a new intensity, and he can barely think past the feeling of you beneath him, in his arms.

His tongue licking over your nipple before enclosing his mouth around your breast. You whine softly, his heat radiating off you. One hand come over to your other nipple. His finger brush softly over it before squeezing it. You arch your back and whine again. The feeling of both nipple begin stimulated is making your pussy pulse in anticipation. You want him inside, now, fuck the foreplay. You're wet enough to take him in.

“Sy...” you want to say tell him, but bites down making you gasp, trailing off. You could come in any moment, you started to moan. Finally he lets one nipple free.

“So ready...” he whispers, fingers reaching your panties drenched. Sylus coos, his thumb pressing against your clothed clit to rub firm circles into the throbbing bud. You glare at him. His finger slipping beneath the fabric. Playing around you entrance, then one finger finds your warmth, you gasp loud at the sensation. At this point, your body is burning with need, every nerve begging for him. The motion of his finger, trying to find you sweet spot is driving you inside. You move you hips against his hand, trying to get more contact. He only laugh and lick again over you nipple.

A second finger is added, stretching you, you moan harder. His finger curls inside you and then...

“Sylus” you whimper, he hit you g-spot. A sharp wave of pleasure courses trough you again.

“That's it” he kiss you with hunger, while thrusting his finger inside you. You hold on his shoulder, opening wider you legs to give him more access. You don´t want to come, no yet, but if he continues like this. Sylus feels you tightness around his finger. Like he said, you not allowed to stop him. You moan and whine against his lips.

“I'm close...“ your words are a pleading gasp, your body trembling as you teeter on the edge. He smirks, his pace unwavering.

“Don't hold back“ he growls, low and commanding. You feel the pressure building inside you, the tension prolong. His kisses paired with the feeling of his other hand on your hard nipple with the frenetic rhythm of the finger is way to much.

“Sy..” you voice breaks as the tension snaps and you come uncontrollably. You body shaking in waves of pleasure. Sylus's finger still inside dragging out the last bit of release. When your breathing begins to steady, he withdraws them. His face is buried in you neck, his breath hot on your skin.

“I want to hear more of that.” Before you can even think of a reply, Sylus removes you panties and then his boxers. You gasp when you see his cock standing hard, long and thick. You bite your lips, you want to have it... Sylus stroke his cock his eyes not leaving yours. “Is time for the main course.”

He positions himself between your legs again, running his fingers over your entrance again before placing his cock. You moan as he thrusts his cock between your folds, slowly. He is so big. Your eyes flutter close, taking all the sensation in. Is overwhelming. Sylus gasp too when his cock is half way inside.

„Breath for me“ Sylus whispers, his breathing is growing heavier by the second, forcing himself to hold back from just thrusting his cock into you too hard. You try to relax your walls, you breathe out.

"Take it slowly, kitten", his voice slow and deep in your ears. He's trying to pace his breathing as well, but it feels so fucking good. His thumb stroke your cheek, and place a soft kiss on your lips. He started to move, softly to adjust in the new sensations, of being inside of you. For the first time in lifetimes. Sylus breath is uneven, hips rocking into you. Nails clawing down his back as you try to steady yourself, his face against your neck, growling, no, moaning lowly. Harder.

“Sy..Sylus” you moan. “More...”

“As you wish." He shifts and his cock hits you deeper, setting fireworks on in your brain while you moan so loud, that you swear the other in the dinning room could have hear you.

“Right... there.” Sylus smiles, capturing your lips once more in a hungry, passionate and deep kiss. Your tongues play, licking each other. The desire you feel is far beyond what you've ever felt with anyone. You feel like you could devour him, a violent thought that might even make you want to shoot him again. Tear out his heart of his chest. You discard the violent idea of hurting him.

You hug him closer with you legs, his cock slamming in a delicious rhythm. The lascivious sound that emanates through the silence of the room, the rustle of the sheet under your skin, the slight creaking of the bed as Sylus thrust his cock inside you, a symphony that you wish would not stop.

Each movement, each shift of his body against yours, sends a wave of heat through him, making it harder to stay composed. His muscles tighten with every gasp and every whimper that comes from you. Your fingers pulling at his silver hair, it's like adding fuel to the fire. And when you react, when you respond to him, it sends a surge of satisfaction and longing that almost overwhelms him. Sylus knows he’s on the edge, his cock twitch inside you, becoming even harder.

“Sy- Sylus,” you moan, pulling his head up to kiss him. He returns the kiss just as hungrily as you are. “Gonna cum...ah, pl..please”

“Come- come for me” he says brokenly. He pushing his thumb into your mouth. You suck obediently, eyes closed to feel the comfort of his skin, losing yourself in it. Sylus groans. You squeeze him. You feel the orgasm bubbling inside you, the tension before the sweet fall. You want to hold on to it. “Come with me...” You open your eyes. What did he said? You meet his glowing red eyes. He pick up the pace, intensity growing inside him. Hammering into you g-spot at every thrust. You hold onto him and the sheets even tighter. A little more, just a little more.

“Can I...?” he started, driving into you more and more, near to explode in any second.

“Yes... please...” you nod eagerly. “I...” As if you had uncorked a shaken bottle of champagne, the orgasm reaches you in a bliss. Your body shakes and trembles. A few seconds later, Sylus follows you with a long growl, pressing his lips against yours, sharing that sweetly overwhelming moment. His hot cum spreads inside you, Sylus doesn't stop, he continues to move inside of you slowly. His lips pull away and he leans his forehead against yours,

When you open your eyes, the adoration in your stare was so palpable. He intertwining his fingers with yours, guiding your hand towards him, leaving a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

You two stay silent, breathing still ragged and coming out in bursts. For some reason, you still feel heat, desire in your body. It hasn't been enough. You want more. As if he could read your mind, Sylus smiled.

“We can do this as long as you like, kitten,” he says, his voice a gentle, warm promise. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he kisses your cheek. You smile at his words.

The night stretches on, the two of you lost in each other, pausing only briefly to share sips of the forgotten wine on the table. One by one, the candles burn out and with that a new day begins.

Your mind drifts, basking in the warmth of the memories from the passionate night. For a moment, you forget that you never told him how you truly feel—but that’s alright. There’s time, you remind yourself with a small, hopeful smile. This is just the beginning, and you know deep down that there are countless moments ahead to share your heart with him.

Exhausted but content, you fall into a peaceful sleep in Sylus’s arms. He stays awake a little longer, watching you with a soft, almost reverent gaze, his heart full. Only when the first light of morning filters into the room does he finally close his eyes, holding you close as sleep overtakes him.

-----

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[devilsxxharlot]

https://www.tumblr.com/devilsxxharlot/783443187469615104/sometimes-i-have-thoughts-and-get-embarrassed-and?source=share

Frothing at the mouth. THIS IS MY FIRST IMPRESSION OF YOU AND IM HOOKED

i like to imagine tim is embarrassingly transparent.

you can gauge his mounting anger as he goes from jaw clicks to clenched hands to gravelly insults. his fingers always tap out the exact same rhythm when he's nervous, and his usual frown melts away when he's tired, replaced by drooping eyes and a distant stare. and it's so easy to tell when he's legitimately happy, because for once he's not smoking like a chimney and his face is so much more relaxed, like he's in the before; like nothing ever went wrong.

he pretends to be jaded and unreachable, but the truth is, he's a rambler. a squeaker. he gives so easy under any outside force and he never really learns how to mask the vulnerability that encases his soul. he's a bleeding hand, truly, and unfortunately for him, his companions find great amusement in exploiting this.

toby, especially.

tim would have known you were toby's from the get-go, given how obsessed he is with you. at best, toby can't go five minutes without talking to or about you; and at worst, toby's going absolutely fucking ballistic because brian smiled at you a little too long. so tim usually tunes out toby's loverboy rambles—what does he care about how pretty you are? how sweet? why does it matter what your laugh sounds like? it doesn't, unless tim's itching to be on the receiving end of a tantrum, and he's got enough to deal with as is.

or so he thought.

it would have been his first time seeing you in person. you were so much softer than he ever could have imagined. your eyes weren't dark the way all of theirs were; your hands were soft, roughened only be honest work; you were gentle. you smiled when you said hi. you said thank you when tim bought you some shitty, five dollar gas station snack. you laughed at something he said, eyes crinkling, hand over your mouth, snorting out apologies.

he understands, now, why toby covets you so. you might as well be god with the way he's willing to pray.

anything to hear you say his name again, or even to have your arm brush against his; anything to be cleansed by you.

it snowballs from there. he's too weak, and maybe too selfish, to limit himself from you like he should. he talks to you more, all rambles and tirades and rants, his heart soaring with every word you indulge him. he brings you little treats that he knows you like. he smokes less even when the withdrawal has him feeling like his head is splitting open, because he's suddenly hyperaware of how he must reek and he wants to be good for you. it's laughable. and worst of all, it's obvious.

for whatever reason, toby never says a word to him.

tim assumes it must be a moment of sadism from the younger proxy. despite how far he lets himself go, there are some lines tim only crosses in dreams. whatever it is, self-control or self-loathing, it keeps him away. you remain toby's. tim remains alone.

he was sure it'd stay that way.

but toby is... adventurous. tim would rather call it stupid, the way he risks himself so often, too cocky from a mix of his CIPA and the conditional immortality the operator grants him. with a shrug and a stupid grin, all toby ever says is:

"i-if it h-ur-hurtsss, i w-... won't feel it. if it k-kills me, it w-won't s—stick."

he's like a fucking dog, trespassing places he shouldn't, picking fights he'll lose, downing anything he can get his paws on. that includes a plethora of drugs.

you'd think someone with such an aversion to alcohol would carry maybe a fraction of the same energy for pills. if toby's not smoking something, he's swallowing pills. if he's not swallowing pills, he's eating laced edibles. rinse and repeat. of course you'd get roped into his shitty habits.

the call comes as a surprise to tim. toby, asking him for help? with you? at first, he assumes something fucking awful must have happened—which, really, is his own fault. nothing in toby's tone evidenced that you were in danger, but he got in his own head; lost his breath at the idea of being your hero, liked the idea of you clinging to him for safety so much that he was over at your and toby's cabin in record time.

so imagine. imagine tim letting himself in, heartbeat pounding in his ears as he calls for toby, and then, with a crack, you. and god, he's sure he just about has a fucking heart attack when your voice answers back a loud t-tim?, all strained and weepy. he follows the sound immediately, boots thudding way too hard against the floorboards, and opens the door to your shared bedroom without a second thought—

only to find you sprawled in bed, legs spread, sex on full display as toby's hand plays with you. toby lifts himself from your neck, tilting his head to grin at tim, and you're whimpering. trembling, whining, crying, tugging weakly at the collar of toby's shirt to bring him back to you.

"l-look, buh-baby. i t-told you timmy w-was g—gonna come help you."

tim's fucked.

[radiantmists]

i didn't want to add this to the post because it would add a bit too much seriousness to a good meme, but i do think it raised an interesting point. because obviously kaladin didn't forget that racism existed in that moment, he was confronting one of his primary oppressors, the guy who betrayed him multiple times over specifically because he was darkeyed.

what kaladin does forget in that moment is the pervasiveness of racism, and the extent to which it's baked into his society's institutions. and i think it makes a lot of sense for kaladin specifically to forget that (even though he absolutely knows it intellectually)!

because kaladin has always been an 'exception'. his father was a doctor, much higher nahn than anyone else in the town. kaladin is as close to literate as an alethi man is allowed to be-- more literate than adolin, presumably than elhokar. marrying the child of the citylord and having lighteyed children-- theoretically 'escaping racism', though of course that wouldn't have worked out too well in practice-- was not only thinkable but likely, unlike the false hope of defeating a shardbearer that others cling to.

before roshone, kaladin did suffer from racism-- but less than others, and in a way where he was led to believe that it was escapable and conditional.

and many of the worst things that happened to him went against the rules of alethi society. roshone was corrupt, and should never have been promoted. kaladin was immune to the draft due to his apprenticeship, and tien was young enough that choosing him was taboo if not forbidden.

similarly, tien being sent to the front lines was the sort of tactic that 'honorable' alethi norms like the codes of war would have considered reprehensible.

and of course when he saved amaram and defeated the shardbearer, the rules of society dictated that he be rewarded; i imagine choosing to give the shard to amaram should, from an honorable man, have been rewarded with pay and retirement for his men or something similar.

kaladin's enslavement was not just dishonorable by alethi social norms, but illegal.

and the kholins, up to this point, have signaled commitment both to the law and to those alethi social honor codes. and while they (especially elhokar) have been casually prejudiced, they've also welcomed the idea of kaladin as the captain of the cobalt guard, suggesting that they aren't so racist that they can't sometimes see reason.

kaladin not realizing the boon was only for lighteyes was a little naive of him, but him expecting the legal system to work for him-- when he took the issue directly to someone who knew him, respected him, and owed him the lives of his whole family-- is very understandable in the light of his experiences.

kaladin is the kind of person from a minority who was raised genuinely thinking that if they behave well, they might experience some prejudice, but no door is truly, systemically closed to them. he's had some knocks to that belief (and is kind of a suspicious person), but in the first part of words of radiance the world seems to be trying to reassure him that not all lighteyes are (too) racist, that the system is not (inherently) unjust, that he's simply been the victim of some of the more prejudiced fringes of lighteyed society.

and then the rug gets pulled out from under him.

because no amount of familiarity or respect will make elhokar side with him over one of the good old boys, no accomplishment will allow a darkeyes to challenge a lighteyes, and no amount of good behavior or education will make kaladin white lighteyed.

but a shardblade would.

...right?

i think this and the immediate aftermath, with adolin giving kaladin a blade and him giving it to moash, could have been a really interesting examination of that idea, because i don't think that lighteyed society would have smoothly accepted either of them. even by rhythm of war, we get hints that kaladin occupies a weird social place where he technically has a lighteyed rank but he seems to have a complicated relationship with 'other' lighteyes (obviously made particularly weird by him being a radiant and because most of the lighteyes he interacts with heavily are also royalty, but he doesn't quite seem to be equals with most of them).

but i don't think sanderson quite understood the experience he was writing about with kaladin, and he set out to write a series about an apocalypse. and so kaladin's complicated-- but not unrealistic-- perspective on alethi casteism will go unexamined.

[nevadancitizen]

-> FASCINATION WITH THE ORDINARY

synopsis: your world is vastly different from the nevada native to madness combat. after the main three + 2bdamned get transported to your world, they each find things that fascinate them.

word count: 2.5k

characters: hank, deimos, sanford, 2bdamned, player! reader

trigger warnings: ehh slight yandere/obsession but could also be read as super heavy pining if you're not into that lol

notes: madness combat fandom arise. madness combat fandom come back to me (also set in @/saltymongoose 's self-aware au)

For the sake of consistency, let’s imagine that the Player lives in a big, lonely, woodsy and plain-sy plot of land. There’s little to no outside human interaction, and lots of animals wandering through the area with a river running through it. For the wildlife, I’m basing it on the American South because I’ve lived here my entire life and know how they act.

SUNSETS & SUNRISES

2BDamned would be the most entranced, since he has the most memories from before the fall and before Hank killed the sun. He’s an early riser by nature (since his body has conditioned him so he’s mostly overworked and under-rested, as unhealthy as it is), so he leans more towards the beauty of a sunrise, towards the light that starts to paint the dark sky with hazy orange shades and rosy hues. He likes breathing in the crisp air and the way it almost sends a shock through his lungs.

But the sun stirs a lingering feeling of nostalgia, though, for the way things were before everything fell to madness. Doc tries his best not to let the thoughts get the better of him as you slip through the front door and out onto the front porch, carrying two steaming cups of coffee. 

God, he could imagine staying like this forever: just you, him, a beautiful sunrise, and coffee. Surely the way you pay attention to him, the way you get up extra early to watch the sunrise, the way you doctor his coffee just right – they’re all examples of how you care for him, just as he cares for you. But for now, he’ll just bide his time, blowing the steam off the surface of his coffee and purring, soft and raspy, both at the taste and because of your company.

But that doesn’t stop the others from appreciating the astounding view at dusk, because Sanford and Deimos are more partial to sunsets after long days. They like lounging in the adirondack chairs set up around the fire pit, cracking open a few beers, and simply relaxing with you. (Don’t worry, Sanford will gather firewood and Deimos will set it alight if it’s a little too cold for your taste.)

They’re fresher clones, so they don’t remember the sun well, if at all. They both always go quiet when the sun starts to dip below the horizon. Sanford props his tea sunglasses on top of his head and Deimos sets his cigarette in the ashtray as they both stare at the way the light turns the clouds purple and paints the sky with pink streaks. It stirs something sad in your heart – both of these men are pushing and just over the cusp of thirty, yet they don’t know the simple sweetness of a sunset. 

But as soon as night overtakes the sky, they both turn their attention back to you. Deimos makes some suave comment about your beauty being nothing in the face of a sunset in that rumbling, smooth voice of his, and Sanford gives him a pointed glare. Sanford points out that your beauty and the beauty of nature are two whole different things, but keeps showering you with not-so-inadvertent compliments, leaving you flustered and blushing from both grunt’s words.

Hank is somewhat of an anomaly with this one. All of the grunt’s biological clocks are absolutely porked from their time without a sun, but Hank’s affected the worst by far. (That, and he doesn’t really care for the sun. He literally slaughtered it.) Therefore, he’s more privy to waking up in the middle of the night and dragging you onto the roof to look at the stars. 

He likes laying on his back with you on his chest, pointing out the brightest stars and asking you questions about them. (He doesn’t really care, he just likes hearing your voice.) He loves your vivid descriptions of the constellations and how you describe them in intricate ways. To Hank, they’re just sparkly, unreachable dots in the sky, but it seems like, to you, they’re beautiful: like millions of silver nails driven into a dome of dark blue velvet. 

He savors the moments like these the most, when you’re alone with him. There’s no sound except for the crickets and dog-day cicadas and spring peepers and your voice and Hank’s sputtering purring. Honestly, it’s as it should be – without those other pesky dipshits ruining your time together. (Well, he can tolerate Doc, but that annoying extraction team could go fuck themselves for all he cared.)

ENTERTAINMENT

Sanford hates being lazy. He hates feeling like he’s not doing anything useful, even if he’s being useful by resting. The only real way to make him sit down and stop moving is by trapping him on the couch, laying your head in his lap, and turning on the TV. (Even if, for the first thirty minutes, he’s too focused on you and your body heat and how fast his heart is beating to even consider looking at the TV.)

But the thing he loves watching the most isn’t any sort of movie with amazing cinematography or show with riveting writing – it’s infomercials. Specifically, infomercials from the 90’s to the late 2000’s. He likes seeing what things could’ve been like if there was no madness in Nevada, because things are oddly peaceful (at least, to him) in your world. Billy Mays and Cathy Mitchell make him wonder about domestic life with you (even if the Jupiter Jack and the Xpress Redi-Set-Go are completely obsolete by now), and how these little gadgets would make your life together supposedly go smoother.

He likes combing his claws carefully through your hair as you both watch these people play up how useful these obviously useless inventions are. He tries to avert his eyes and act interested in the TV as you look up at him and point out how the Red Devil Grill was recalled because it got so hot it collapsed and caused fires, but can’t. He just can’t keep his eyes off you when you look up at him so sweetly, and can you blame him? You just make his face so warm and his heart beat so fucking fast…

Deimos has always had a fascination with electronics, but it’s mostly been from a tactical and weaponized standpoint. But he’s discovered (well, really, you introduced him to) video games. He absolutely loves curling up into your side, purring and providing commentary as he watches you play. (Because, despite his trying, he hasn’t really gotten a hang of the controls yet.)

He loves more story-fueled games with characters he can really get attached to. He likes investing himself in things and people that don’t actually affect him, because seeing your favorite character go through dire straits or even die hurts for a little while, but it’s nothing compared to seeing someone get eviscerated right in front of you. And, yeah, he totally cried when Arthur Morgan died (and totally played it up so that you’d comfort him). 

He also likes draping himself over you in the middle of a boss fight, wriggling and nuzzling into your cheek, causing you to giggle, lose focus, and, obviously, die. He strings together half-hearted apologies through his raspy purring, but he’s not really sorry. More deaths means more time spent with him, and internally, he’s completely and honestly unapologetic for his underhanded tactics. 

Due to the nature of his administrative role, Doc spends a lot of time in front of screens. He likes to unplug and unwind by reading, no doubt with a straight-up hazardous amount of coffee by his side. He prefers reading with you with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, whether you’re also reading or working on something else. Though he’s inexperienced (and sometimes even shy) with these types of things, he’s more than happy to ease into affectionate touches and romance that kills his common sense with you. 

His tastes are often cheap, but when he earns enough dough, he likes to splurge on second-hand college anatomy textbooks. No, he’s not planning on going to university, but he wants to know the inner workings of the human system (and, therefore, the inner workings of you). He also likes speculative biology and seeing what humans think about other intelligent species potentially being out there.

He would absolutely be elated (though he tries his best to hide it) if you took his interests seriously and discussed them with him. He tries to keep you in his makeshift office and away from the others so you can continue to spend this precious alone time with him, but that doesn’t stop the red-hot flare of jealousy as one of the others bursts in with a childish ask about something that should be obvious. (Of fucking course you wouldn’t want to go for a walk, Deimos, have you seen the weather out? Leave you and him alone!)

Obviously Hank would love gorefest and splatter film movies because of his all-encompassing and absolute love for carnage, and he’d love them even more if you got scared and hid yourself in his shoulder or chest. It’s clear that he’s your strongest and most capable vessel, so he clearly agrees with your choice to choose him as your protector (even if that choice is based on an instinctive need to hide). 

He also loves WWE and MMA fighting. When given the choice, he opts for MMA because it’s real and bloody and he prefers seeing people push themselves to their absolute limit rather than some predetermined fight that serves a higher storyline. (But, then again, he really likes the clip of Undertaker breaking into Paul Bearer’s house during an interview and throwing a cabinet at him because, what the fuck? He’s never thought of that before! Using things from the environment when out of weapons instead of his fists could be an improvement. Maybe he can learn a thing or two from these fake fighters…)

And, yes, if you give him access to Twitter he will turn your entire timeline into those backyard fight videos and dashcam car crashes. He doesn’t mean to, it just happens.

ANIMALS

Being a natural night owl, Deimos loves keeping a lookout for what critters come out at night. When he’s on the front porch with you, smoking a cigarette and waving away mosquitoes, he makes sure to keep an eye out for weird and unusual wildlife. (While pressed against your side and purring loudly, no doubt.)

He likes watching the whip-poor-wills swoop down and catch the moths that swarm around the overhead porch lights. Yes, he will try to catch one, but backs off when you tell him to. Instead, he opts for digging in the dirt to find beetles and grubs to toss up in the air for the small birds to catch. He will kinda feel bad if the beetles hit the ground but will continue to throw them to the birds when you tell him insects are basically immune to fall damage, so… no harm, no foul.

He’s also absolutely enamored by raccoons. He likes throwing food to them from the safety of the porch and watching them eat with their little grabby hands. He’s very reckless so, despite your warnings, he’ll try to squirrel one away inside the house. (He does this multiple times and, without fail, gets bitten each time. 2B has given him multiple rabies shots after shooing the raccoons out with a broom.)

Speaking of Doc, he enjoys going out in nature and finding decaying things just to see how many buzzards arrive. He excuses it with something about wanting to see if decomposition works the same across both your world and his, but he secretly finds some relation with the birds – something about being deliverers and arbiters and negators of death. (Though the last one really only applies to him.)

He also likes the rare sightings of wild horses. He’ll go out of his way to (carefully, shyly) rouse you from whatever you’re doing to go take a look at the majestic beasts, and he’ll be even more excited if there’s a foal wandering between the stocky legs of the adults. 

He just barely brushes his fingers against yours as you both stand on the edge of the treeline and watch them graze. Seeing the foal break from the herd, kick out and tumble and fall over and immediately get back up sparks… something in his heart. A vision. Just you, just him, linked pinkies, and a future together, with this warm feeling in his chest.

Hank really likes the more dangerous creatures. He gets along well with cottonmouth and other venomous snakes (and “gets along well” really means that they’re mean as can be and strike as often as possible while he just holds them and smiles at you). 

If you don’t keep a close enough eye on him, he’ll wander off and try to provoke larger animals, like bobcats. To him, they’re just tiny little pussycats, even if they pose a real threat and could kill him. Please don’t let him go too far, because if he comes across a bear, he will try to wrestle it, and Doc doesn’t like having to do emergency surgery on the island countertop in your kitchen. 

On multiple occasions, he’s come back to the house after being missing for hours, reeking of skunk spray. He just purrs happily as you tell him to strip and hold still as you spray him down with the hose.

Sanford is way calmer with his interactions with wildlife. He likes sitting on the dock with you and watching the fish swim by (because he’s impressed both by the fish and by the river – he’s never seen water in such great quantity!) Set him up with a hook, lure, and line and he’ll be entertained for hours. Though he struggles a bit with making streamers and fishing knots due to his big hands and claws, he’s more than patient when you teach him (mostly because he gets to spend time with you). 

When he’s fishing, he likes to look around and observe – mostly because fishing is a waiting game. His favorite visitors are herds of whitetail deer, especially when summer is in full swing and the fawns are ready to start exploring. They remind him of his family, mainly because of the way the does don’t really care which fawn is theirs, just that each is getting enough milk. You point at them and discuss them with him in small whispers because you don’t want to spook them. 

Again, it reminds him of his want for a domestic life with you. Just basking in the mottled sun that seeps through the trees, dipping your bare feet in the cool river water as a catfish tugs on the line – it’s all he wants, really. Now if he could just get the rest of the grunts to leave you alone… excluding Deimos, of course.

[hollyhomburg]

(Tw suicide, possessive behavior, dark romance) Imagine a vampire au where jin whose been alive for centuries prides himself on having the cutest coven full of his little pretty fledglings who absolutely adore him always treating them fairly and letting them roam to their hearts content- prideful that none of them ever stray far because they love him 🥰 and he slowly starts for form a bond with human m/c who seems a little sad/off and jin tries to make her happy 🥺

and she becomes really close with jins youngest fledgling ie jungkook or maybe jimin and she might realize their secret and…subtly manipulated jk into draining her dry/going too far- because he’s been conditioned under thrall after every time jin said ‘listen to what y/n’ says, so when they’re fooling around one day and he’s drinking from her and she says ‘keep going’ he does until she has barely any blood in her and jin- devistated- has no choice but to turn here even though when she found out their secret she made jin promise not to turn her because immortality is basically her worst nightmare.

But when she wakes after being turned…she’s strong- maybe because her brain was deprived of so much blood just before he transformation. And she fights them trying to get to sunlight so that she’ll burn- forcing jin to lock her away for her own good and slowly condition her to live for him. To depend on his approval and touch like it’s the only thing that keeps her going.

And jin swore he’d never be the kind of sire that would treat their fledglings like this- like objects but he grows to secretly enjoy the attention it’s and devotion she has for him. To secretly crave the subtle turn of her mind into something so dependent and sweet and addicted to his presence. The slow change of her being terrified that he won’t come visit her cell anymore and she’ll do anything for a bit of her sires blood. And then when he finally lets her out of her chains she cries cuz she wants them back on and they’ve become a reminder that sire loves her 🥺 taking them off means he’s done with her does it? But he gives her a collar instead and tells her that one of the bedrooms upstairs is her new cell and now the coven can sleep with her every night and she can be the prettiest little baby bat and never leave their nest and everything is fixed 🥰

now jinnie just has to find a way to make his other 6 fledglings wear collars too.

[free-luigi-mangione]

I just saw Luigi’s reply to Jules in full, and I have so many feels.

The way he describes his back problem - “broken spine,” “your physical being split in two” - I always knew it was serious, but I think this is the first time it’s hitting me how viscerally painful it must have been to endure something so horrible in your 20s. How depressing it must have been to face the possibility of being permanently disabled at an age when your peers are at their sprightliest, full lives ahead of them.

I sincerely hope the past tense he uses means his back is okay now. I read up on his condition when I found out who he was, and it seems like there’s a chance he might need maintenance surgery at some point in his life. I hope to God he walks free because I do not trust anyone in the prison healthcare system to treat him the way he deserves. He talked about how terrified he was before his surgery under a professional he presumably researched and paid big bucks for. Imagine how terrifying it would be to be operated upon by someone holding you captive, with absolutely no penalty for maiming you permanently. To undergo major surgery with no support, no loved ones at your side. Still being treated like a monster at your weakest, most vulnerable.

I’m also thinking about him saying that nothing external can phase him. It’s kind of sad that he’s been through so much trauma that the barbaric shit they’ve been doing to him doesn’t bother him. I feel like we’ve all seen so many happy smiling photos of him, only accounts by loved ones praising him for being supportive, always trying to cheer people up, that it’s not immediately obvious how much horrible stuff he has gone through at only 27.

I also feel so bad for his mother. In that French article they say the FBI called her before they found him. Imagine being a mother with a son missing for months and then you receive a call saying, “hello ma’am, this is the FBI.” Her heart must’ve dropped, assumed the worst. Then they just questioned her further, she must have been relieved. Only for her world to fall apart completely days later. Her youngest lost to her forever in a completely different way.

I am praying that he’s eventually compensated for the horrors he’s had to face so far. This bright soul rotting away behinds bars till his life ends is something I refuse to accept. Sometimes it really seems like there is not an ounce of justice in the world.

(Sorry for my English, it’s not my first language)

anon, you've said this so beautifully 🥺

[dontbesoweirdkira]

A/N: I love platonic yandere Johnny Cage so much. Here’s Johnny obsessing over a new and upcoming talent. He wants to protect you and boost your career but he ends up going overboard with it.

Inspired by

Warnings: Yandere themes (stalking, murder, physical abuse and manipulation) blah blah blah it’s a very fun time for you!! :D

Request: open 24/7

Masterlist

I think we as a community all agree that Yandere Johnny Cage is absolutely batshit insane…I mean he’s already operating on a certain kind of time usually but it’s just cranked up to 1000% with you.

Everything in his life just has to be picture perfect, his hair, movies, cars, house, and…you. Especially you! He sees himself in you, full of life and absolutely beautiful! You will have the absolute best if you just do exactly what he says.😀👍

Don’t get me wrong, he absolutely adores the crap out of you and he truly means well. He’s trying his absolute best to take care of you, he’s just an emotionally unregulated fuck.

When Johnny saw your audition tape he just knew you were destined to become America’s next sweetheart. It’s so hard to come by a natural like you in today’s world so he’d be a fool to just let you go.

His career is steadily on the decline so why not try to save it by living vicariously through you. If his name is attached to the new hot shit then he’s sure to skyrocket back into fame.

Johnny coming to you with this deal at first glance was the dream! THE JOHNNY CAGE LIKES YOU?! He thinks you’re star material?? Who wouldn’t take up this one in a lifetime opportunity.

Press conferences, interviews, red carpet and product reviews…Johnny kept you booked with little to no free time.

There was no saying no to this aswell. Take a good look at what you signed sweetheart! You’re his property. You have a script to follow and you better follow it.

What you wear, the way you walk, talk and dress are all under his creative direction.

Just smile at the camera, y/n and say how he’s the best co-star in the entire world and how perfect it is working with for him!

He’d flip out so fucking bad if you even suggest you wanted to leave the spotlight.

He’s the main reason anyone ever even looked your way! Johnny is the “only one” who cares for you, don’t you think that he knows what’s best for you?

He brought the shirt on your back and the food in the fridge and if you want to be an ungrateful little cunt, he’ll take it away from you.

He’ll tell you how if you really didn’t want to be here, he’d just hire someone else to take your place. And not just as America’s sweetheart…as his too.

Yeah you're an adult and he technically has no legal rights over you once your contract is up but imagine the constant conditioning that you’re going to be nothing without him.

He set up everything in a way where you can’t escape. The house he “gifted” you is all under his name, so is that fancy car and even your cell phone.

Even though he consistently threatens to disown, replace and ruin you, he will go absolutely psychotic if you decide to ignore him.

Oh and that cell phone I mentioned earlier? He’s constantly tracking you with it. Has access to personal files and even a parental mode at his disposal.

The revival of his career is crumbling in front of his eyes…worst yet, the entire WORLD.

He’ll blow up your phone with tons of texts and voice messages, spend copious amounts of money on gifts to bribe you back, kick up the charm too and tell you he didn’t mean what he said and that he’s such a terrible mentor.

He cries how he just wanted a better life for you and how he just wants to do something great and if all of this work fails he’ll become even more of a joke.

If that doesn't work he’ll even go as far as to try to manipulate you by saying he’s going to terminate all of his projects, delete his social media and tell the world he’s such a horrible man and that he doesn’t deserve any of the fame he has because he’s hurt you.

Of course you come back and start doing as he says again, only for the cycle to repeat.

Johnny isn’t the absolute worst, he does protect you from any potential dangers out there. He works extremely hard to keep your image very clean and pure even though you’re in your 20's . As much as you hate basically being stuck in a girl next door persona, he explains how once you start becoming a sex icon like him…the exploitation becomes worse.

Johnny definitely has been through and seen a lot of shit so he’s got the right spirit but wrong execution.

He even beat the shit out of a producer and got arrested because he tried forcing himself on you.

Speaking of getting arrested for fighting, this is such a common occurrence for him that you hold onto some of his credit cards just in case you have to bail him out on any given day.

Has threatened to murder multiple people in great detail for making you uncomfortable…now I’m not saying he’s ever carried out those plans but have you ever seen any of those co-stars ever again? Eh..Johnny said they just weren’t working with the camera.

He will vet any jobs you want to take and hand pick the safest sets and crews for you to work with. Your real manager doesn’t even argue with him anymore, he just accepts the fact Johnny is the self proclaimed one.

Hey well at least your idol doesn’t interfere in your romantic life! He just has to run background checks, stalk their socials and inner circles, be there on the date…nothing major….

You just can’t hook up with anyone, y/n. Can you imagine what this would do to your image??

Don’t bring up the hypocrisy of him practically dating most of the tri-state area….in the past year!

Has thought about getting a conservatorship over you but has been rejected because if anyone needs one, it’s really him.

[romancingstars]

DRUNKEN MONOLOGUES

And you’re draped on him, whilst you’re staring at me.

remus lupin x reader

part 1 of drunken monologues

warnings : alcohol consumption (not as much as first suggested) , infatuation at first sight (remus lupin is so pretty , he takes care of u , hlp me

yet again another repost, hope you guys enjoy it just as much as the first time round ! all these r kinda shit sooo

title’s stolen from : no.1 party anthem by the arctic monkeys and come closer by miles kane

“Moony!” Sirius shouted, walking over to the lanky man. You were clinging onto Sirius’s arm, giggling over whatever joke he had just told about the Sex Pistols. Something about Malcolm McLaren probably. “I’ve found my dream lover! Knows The Clash and Pistols. Even, Public Image I mean, come on it’s the way to my heart.” he stated, gesturing to you. Dragging your eyes away from Sirius, you peered up at Remus and your jaw went slack. He was your type to the tee. Tall, thin, soft brown locks and full lips. The scars only made him look even better. His everything was completely and utterly perfect in your not so humble opinion.

“Happy for you Pads.” Remus said, rolling his eyes. Then, he looked down at you and the worst happened - he caught you staring. Your open mouth, which you were practically drooling from, was a slight give away that Sirius was no longer your top priority. Only a slight giveaway. “Oh, shit.” he muttered under his breath.

“Oi! What’re you staring at him like that for? You didn’t look at me like that.” Sirius whined, looking down at you.

“I like your music taste, and your hair. You’re fit. But, him? He’s fucking gorgeous.” you replied, pointing over at Remus. The very little vodka you had consumed must’ve gone to your head because you never would’ve said that in a normal state. However, you didn’t remove your arm from Sirius’s. Mostly for balance, which was a little selfish, but desperate times. Remus cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to avoid Sirius’s gaze of pure disbelief.

“Not to be rude Remus or anything, but you seriously think he’s better looking than me? I know he’s fit, but I’m me.” the black haired boy argue, flicking his eyes between the two of you.

“You’re both good looking, he’s just more to my taste. Look at him, he’s so pretty. But, in a different way to you. See you’re all tidy and your hair is in better condition than mine. He’s so.. oh I just want to bite him. What’s his name again?” you rambled, never taking your own eyes from Remus. The taller man was trying desperately hard not to laugh at Sirius’s complete shock, which was an almost impossible task.

“Fine then, go hang off of his arm.” Sirius said, holding you out towards him. You immediately stumbled towards Remus, by your own choice.

“Gladly. Hiiiiii.” you cooed, using his shoulders for balance. “I’m really quite tired and— Oh. Shit. Think I need some air.” you added, holding onto Remus’s bicep for dear life. Your knees had buckled and the brown haired man barely caught you. However, his hands did reach your waist to keep you stood up straight.

“Think you need something more than air. Come on, let’s get you out of here.” Remus replied, chuckling lightly at the way you were peering up at him. “Think you hurt Sirius’s feelings.” he added, continuing on the conversation as he sat you down outside of the house.

“Reckon he’ll get over it, he had a swarm of fans following him around. Got me absolutely pissed though. Not on purpose, I was just trying to keep up with him.” you said, rubbing your temples. Your speech was fine, but your legs were a little wobbly. Everything just felt slow. You realised you weren’t that pissed at all, just nervous in Remus’s presence.

“Yeah, he tends to have that affect on people. What’s your name again?” he said, quoting you to you. He smirked down at you. It was a little comforting to know he was genuinely paying attention to you.

You mumbled your name to him and tried desperately hard not to imagine yourself wrapped up in Remus’s arms. Or tucked away asleep in his bed, kissing him or dancing with him in your living room. With alcohol still flowing in your system, you decided now was the perfect time to make another move. “Meant what I said about you before, by the way. You are- indescribable.” you stated, staring up at him once again.

“Yeah? Glad you think so, you’re also drunk.” he replied, sitting down beside you. His face flushed slightly and you saw, but decided that commenting on it might scare him off.

“Mmmhm, maybe you should give me your number and, and your home address. Then, the next time you’re free so I can show you the prettiest book shop. I’m just assuming you like books, you seem like the smart type. By that I mean you dress like and old man, don’t get me wrong I’m into it, but you do.” you rambled, eyes following him as he moved beside you.

“Really? I’ll give you my number and I do like books. Good assumption?” he chuckled and his hair flopped in front of his eyes. You wanted to eat him, which is an odd statement really, but it was the truth.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you,” you pointed to him as you spoke. “walk me” you continued, pointing at yourself “home.”. Your hand moved into the direction you thought home was and then it struck you. You didn’t have the slightest clue where you were.

“Oh? Right, you’re going to let me walk you to your home?” he taunted, trying desperately hard not to laugh. Disappointed, you frowned at him. “Sorry, ‘course I’ll walk you home, love.” he added, guilt spreading across his chest at the sight of your frown. You smiled; he smiled.

“Okay, so. My friends, kind of, dragged me here. And I don’t know where I am, or how to get home. So what if you walked me to your home? you offered, grinning over to him sheepishly. You felt a little guilty, dropping that on Remus all at once. But, you’d leap at the chance to spend anymore time with this man. Wanting to get to know him inside and out, you were desperate to continue talking to him.

“This you making a move on me?” he said, smirking once again. “You can come back to mine, by the way. Might as well go now, can’t see this party getting any better.” he added, standing up. Offering out his hand to help you stand, Remus gave you a half smile and you were sure you could’ve died in that moment. Taking his hand, you stumbled into his chest. ‘Typical’ you thought to yourself as you frowned at the cliche of the situation.

“Sorry. I want cookies, do you have cookies at yours?” you said, gripping his hand tightly as you walked. He smirked down at you, laughing slightly. Remus couldn’t quite believe his luck. Not only were you absolutely breathtaking, you were also quite infatuated with Remus. The situation ensuing was one he was sure he could get very used to.

The walk back to Remus’s apartment was filled with conversations of interests: music, books, films and hobbies. Hand in hand, the two of you discovered you had a lot more in common than expected. Even despite your contrasting opinions on certain topics. (Cough star wars cough). Remus fumbled slightly with the key before unlocking the door to his apartment holding it open so you could walk in.

“It smells of you.” you stated, looking around at the warm hues which flooded the room. You moved into the lounge; you thought it was the cosiest room you’d ever seen. It screamed Remus. One couch and an arm chair, different pieces of furniture picked up from the side of the street and charity shops. Small coffee tables, shelves and a TV tucked into the corner all built up the atmosphere.

“Funnily enough, it’s where I live.” he said, sarcasm lacing his tone. His hand gently pressed against the small of your back, ushering you out of the living room’s doorway. He gently gripped your waist as he moved past you and into the kitchen. “Tea, coffee or hot chocolate?” he offered, looking over the breakfast bar at you. Currently, you were glazing your fingers across the spines of books stored on a shelf in the lounge.

“Hot chocolate please.” you mumbled in response, picking out ‘The picture of Dorian Gray’. “This is a bit beaten up.” you commented, giggling lightly as you flipped it over in your hands.

“Dorian’s had a lot of love, what can I say.” he said, smiling over at you as he pulled the mugs down from the cupboard. Then, he filled and began boiling the kettle - a very mundane task. You quickly put the book back and began admiring the rest of his collection. Carefully, you read the blurbs of books you didn’t recognise You tried to ignore the feeling of Remus’s you following you. Truthfully, he was admiring you and wondering how Sirius of all people had been the reason you met. You didn’t seem like the type for Sirius at all, which sort of explains why you were in his apartment now. He needed to ask you out and soon, Remus told himself. Maybe it was all in the wrong order, but he didn’t care. He was in fact just as desperate to get to know you as you were for him.

[goodlucktai]

Ooh would you write a sequel to the one where Luffy tells the crew about Sabo and paints their flag, then Robin goes and calls Sabo to come n visit them??? 💕

sequel to this

x

Luffy is holding his hand so hard it’s beginning to hurt, but it doesn’t even cross Usopp’s mind to let go. 

The man who boards them looks nothing like Luffy, or even Usopp’s memories of Ace. He’s very pale and fair-haired, with a graceful, willowy sort of frame that Usopp’s storyteller mind leaps to associate with princes and castles. 

The man looks extremely nervous. He holds himself absolutely still with picture-perfect posture, like it was something drilled into him at a young age. Once his eyes find Luffy, they don’t look anywhere else. 

He came alone. The solitary figure he strikes on the opposite side of the deck tugs at Usopp’s heart. 

Robin makes a disapproving sound under her breath when he stays rooted where he’s at and strides across the grass to meet him. 

“Sabo,” she greets him, holding out her hands. He seizes them with equal parts gratitude and desperation but he still doesn’t look at her.

Next to him, clustered as close as they are together, Usopp feels the jolt go through Luffy like a surge of electricity. 

It was the name, Usopp thinks. None of them have said it out loud since that shocking conversation with Robin, which Luffy had absorbed without speaking for four very long minutes before bolting from the room to hide with Sunny on the figurehead for the rest of the afternoon. 

Usopp tries to imagine being told his mother was alive, after growing up and apart from her for half his life. He tries to imagine the shock and disbelief, and how it would fold slowly into reluctant hope, and how much it would hurt to claw open a wound that’s ten years healed and how ready he would be to do exactly that if there was even a chance he might see her again. 

Luffy lost Ace two years ago. It happened right in front of him. It happened in the worst, most traumatizing way it possibly could have. And it happened when his crew had been forced apart and flung to the far corners of the world and he was left to bear that impossible grief all alone. 

Take care of him for me, Ace had said, smiling with his teeth beneath an unrelenting desert sun, all reds and golds and warmth. 

Usopp holds Luffy’s hand tighter, the rubber skin and bones compressing in a familiar way beneath the unrelenting grip of his fingers. 

The morning after The Conversation With Robin, all of them packed around a breakfast table laden with hearty biscuits and gravy, strip steak and eggs, and cinnamon rolls the size of their heads—Sanji’s unspoken spoiling of their captain after the previous afternoon’s bombshell; he even let Luffy try his coffee, which never fucking happens. They were all poised to do and say and be exactly what their captain needed, if he’d only give them a cue. 

Luffy, for his part, breezed into the galley bright and early, like it was any other day, and he hadn't spent all of last night all by himself. He called out cheerful greetings, tussled playfully with Zoro, fought with Franky over the spicy potato hash, filled his plate, and then, in the red flag of all red flags, ate exactly zero bites of food before turning to Robin. 

“Hey, Robin,” he said, “why didn’t Sabo come find me?”

The only sound in the kitchen was the unobtrusive steaming from the medley of pans on the stovetop and the sharp clunk of the glass Nami accidentally set down too hard.

Robin smiled at Luffy, the special way she smiled that was reserved solely for him. She grew an extra hand and nudged his plate towards him.

“I told you, captain,” she said. “He had amnesia. The only thing he remembered from his childhood was his desperation not to return to Goa Kingdom.”

“Retrograde amnesia is a medical condition,” Chopper piped up, desperate to be helpful. He’d been on the edge of his seat all morning, ready to fly to Luffy at the first tiniest indication that he should. “Several different things can cause it, like disease or injury, but it sounds like S—like his memory loss was probably caused by trauma.”

“Yeah,” Luffy said easily, accepting what they told him without question. He scooted food around on his otherwise untouched plate, expression giving nothing away. “But after that. Robin said that seeing Ace in the newspaper made him remember. That was two years ago.”

Dread sank in Usopp’s stomach like a stone. He glanced quickly around the table and found his friends’ faces mirroring what his own probably looked like. 

“He didn’t come find me,” Luffy said. “Does he hate me?”

“No,” Zoro said at once, his tone a guarantee that it would be the last thing Sabo ever did if it was true.

“Why would you think that?” Sanji forced out between gritted teeth. 

“Because I let Ace die,” their captain said frankly. “He was right in front of me and I couldn't save him. Now Sabo doesn’t want to see me.”

Everyone started talking at once, and Chopper upset his apple juice in his scramble to finally fling himself into Luffy’s arms, and Usopp decided that getting his ass beat by Mr. 4 and Miss Christmas hurt a hell of a lot less than this. 

Robin rose gracefully and rounded the table. An extra arm bloomed out of the table to grip the back of Luffy’s chair and wrench it around, facing it towards her.

She kneeled and took his hands, and then her wrists grew hands so that she could hold Chopper’s little hooves too. But her eyes were all for Luffy when she said, “He loves you. He’s making a better world for you.”

Luffy stared back at her and finally his blank expression cracked. His mouth twisted a little, brows furrowing above shiny brown eyes. 

“Then why didn’t he come?” 

“Because despite your separation, you two are more alike than anyone could have guessed,” Robin said warmly. “And he’s afraid you hate him, too.”

And now they’re both here, standing beneath the cloudy sky, and Luffy—wild, relentless, unassuming Luffy—doesn’t seem to know what to do. He’s always the one who makes the first move, who barrels right in with a noisy laugh, but instead he just clutches at Usopp’s hand and presses his opposite shoulder into Zoro’s and drinks in the sight of the man across the deck. 

Studying him, Usopp realizes. Recognizing him.  

Then Luffy blinks, and the wetness in his eyes falls down his cheeks, and the blond man jerks like he’s been punched in the gut. 

“I, um,” he says, digging hastily into one of his inner coat pockets, “I brought you something.” 

He tosses the gift over and Luffy lets go of Usopp’s hand to catch it. It turns out to be an old brass monocular telescope, shining dully in Luffy’s hands. Worn and scuffed in quite a few places, easily decades old. Luffy studies it very quietly. 

“All of my things were lost when my ship was shot down,” the man says. “Nothing could be salvaged. But that was in my pocket. It must have been important if it was the only thing I was carrying with me, so I kept it all these years.”

He tries on a smile. It pulls at the side of his face discolored and puckered by burn scars. It seems like a miracle he’s standing there and smiling at all. 

“You wanted a telescope when we were kids, remember? I finally brought you one. I’m sorry it took me so long.”

“Sabo took forever,” Luffy says. He sounds young. 

It’s the way he sounded in Alabasta, when Ace showed up and interjected himself in the chase between the Straw Hats and Smoker’s men—like it was his body’s natural response to plant itself like a tree between Luffy and whatever danger was behind him. Luffy ran away laughing, bright and untroubled and certain of his safety. 

Peak little sibling energy, Usopp had later thought wryly. It explained so much of who his captain was as a person to know he was the baby of his family of monsters and mad men. 

Luffy sounds that way now, his face all screwed up, blotchy and streaked with tears. 

“He took forever,” he says again, emphatic and bewildered and hurt. “I missed him so much and he was too busy being stupid to come tell me he’s alive. I thought—”

Robin steps out of the way in time to avoid being trampled when their guest moves the way a missile shot from a cannon moves. Luffy lurches forward, too, but he doesn’t have time to make it a single step before he’s being snatched up in bigger arms and hauled into an embrace that looks like it might leave a bruise. One gloved hand on the back of Luffy’s head cradles it against a broad shoulder and the other grips the back of Luffy’s jacket hard enough it starts to tear. 

“Robin told me,” the man gasps, like he’s not getting enough air. “I don’t hate you, how could I hate you? You’re my brother. I’m so—I’m so grateful you survived, Lu. I don’t know what I would have done if you—if—” 

He can’t say it, can’t speak the words into existence, as if the world would be a dark, unlivable place if Luffy weren’t in it. In that instant, Usopp understands this stranger completely. 

Sabo pulls back, but only so he can hold Luffy’s head in his hands. Luffy goes on tiptoe to knock their foreheads together, a gesture Usopp has seen him do with his nakama, and always chalked up to Luffy’s weird feral energy. It’s a gesture that makes Sabo’s next breath sound like a sob. Or maybe a laugh. 

Luffy laughs with him, wet and choked. Neither of them are self-conscious about the state of themselves. They sit right there, a graceless collapse into the warm grass, somewhat on top of each other like clumsy, half-grown wolf cubs. 

Usopp feels a weight lifted. He thinks he must be smiling like an absolute idiot and his own eyes are definitely damp, but he’s unselfconscious, too. A person learns a thing or two about what appearances actually matter, sailing with this crew. And tears come easily when you live honestly, the way Luffy always has. 

He’s rattling at a million words a minute now, speaking in an Eastern language Usopp is unfamiliar with—probably a regional dialect from the island he grew up on.

Sabo follows along effortlessly, interjecting now and then in the same language, but content, for the most part, just to listen to his little brother talk.

He absorbs every second of Luffy’s presence the same needy way plants unfurl to soak up sunlight. 

[maxdibert]

the idea of snape ever having a child with a muggle & their child being a complete mirror of him in his youth (battling with their own half blood origins, buying into blood purity due to social pressure, etc.) actually makes me want to gnaw at the bars of my enclosure .. like the absolute angst that would evoke within their entire family dynamic to the point where their child loathes him for the same mistake his mother made when marrying his father .. (I am incapable of ever imagining snape as anything but miserable like I love him when he’s at his worst)

But the thing is, Severus' situation entirely depends on the circumstances. Severus doesn't feel part of the Muggle world because his Muggle world is crap: he lives in a house that's a slum, in a poor neighborhood, they can't even afford to buy him clothes, and his father is a violent jerk... Everything he knows about the Muggle world is terrible, so it's understandable that he would want to escape to the magical world and start over, and latch onto that part of himself to escape from the other part, which was completely negative. Then, when he gets to the magical world, what he finds is more marginalization, more disdain, more violence. For Severus to see himself reflected in a child of his, first, his child would have to be raised under the same conditions, and honestly, I can't see him forming a family with a violent person who would harm their children, because that doesn't make sense. Also, his child would have to be a school outcast, meaning they wouldn't have resources or anyone to support them, which also doesn't make sense because I can't see Severus having children and leaving them to fend for themselves. And let's not even talk about being poor—because Severus wouldn't be rich, but he worked as a teacher his whole life, so that would give him a decent middle-class salary.

What I want to say is that the status of being a half-blood in his child's case is irrelevant if, for example, they were raised in a positive environment, with a decent family. Because in that case, they wouldn’t have a negative experience with the Muggle world, and they’d also have grown up with resources and tools to defend themselves if they were bullied at school, or at least with parents decent enough to intervene in the situation. The story would only repeat itself if the context were repeated, and I don’t see Severus having children knowing he can't give them more than what his parents gave him, which was basically crap.

[buff-muffin]

Random little One piece modern AU thoughts and I guess scenes I had about mainly Luffy

1. Luffy is the best guy to take to karaoke. While he isn’t the best singer he’s also not the worst. However he sings with his whole chest and heart and will sing duets with anyone no matter how lovey or metal. His energy always brought everyone out of their shells he just has a bad habit of singing when it’s not his turn

2. I feel like in a modern AU Luffy would still be friends with a lot of the people he met in series just under different conditions. Like water 7 instead of the mayor almost being assassinated he just. Met him. Like on good terms. idk, maybe Luffy saved tyrannosaurus and now they just exchange animals pics and the occasional “hey I’m heading to insert place where should I go to eat” and Luffy just introduces the Baratie with no heads up to Zeff and Sanji and when Sanji spams the group chat freaking out he just says you’re welcome :D

3. Luffy keeps the contacts of everyone he’s met and keep them under their nicknames. Monster granny, hammock, split head ect. It’s the only way he can remember them after all. When nami had gotten nosy and decided to go through his contacts she obviously asked who tf ice pops was. Imagine her surprise when Luffy confidently answers that it’s the mayor from a few towns over.

4. In a modern AU the ASL brothers were totally still bush kids. Like. Dadan’s (probably community house) was right by the woods and they would have a similar childhood to canon with less killing wild animals. But they also a thousand fucking percent had a Nintendo Wii. Like Ace and Sabo fought tooth and NAIL for player one and Luffy was banished to player three with the dingiest controller known to man (not even the safety strap could protect that thing from getting tossed at the tv) And speaking from my own experience as a younger sibling Ace totally spent a whole summer trying to unlock every character in Mario kart.

5. Law met the straw hats in collage at 2 am when they got kicked out of a bar and he was trying to mind his own business. While they saw him in their intoxicated state and said “you’re my friend now :)” Law was genuinely worried half of them had alcohol poisoning. An hour later he found himself in one of their apartments two of them passed out. One of them throwing up. All while he makes a grilled cheese for Luffy, the so called infamous man on campus who is crying sitting on the floor cause he’s starving. Law stayed the night to make sure none of them drowned in their own vomit and like imprinted baby ducks they have not left him alone since.

6. Luffy has been going to riots and movements for years. He started going with Sabo and Ace growing up when they were teenagers and hasn’t stopped. He also never thought to mention it to any of his friends until they saw him on the news at a protest absolutely fucking SENDING a tear gas canister back at the cops

7. I kinda wanna believe while devil fruits don’t exist in modern AU the character still has quirks semi related to their fruit. Like Robin is just, double jointed everywhere and could bend her arms and fingers in all the worst ways. Luffy can either contort his body to hide in tiny places OR he has stretchy skin. It’s nothing more then party tricks but it is cool

8. Luffy was definitely a gymnastics kid. Not in like. The competing sense. But in like the, one of the adults in his life would drop him off there twice a week for an hour. Did he participate with the other children and learn how to roll? NO! He was flinging himself full speed into giant foam mats and climbing rock walls without a harness. He was a menace to society and he was only taken to blow off some energy and it WORKED. Until he was kicked out.

[yuechihua]

That one anons ask about reader being in a similar situation as Harumasa from the fic where he turned into an ethereal made me think of how terrifying it must be to see Harumasa's state in the aftermath.

Like imagine your slacker and lazy coworker who has a naturally resting smug expression, your superior who teases you even at the most tense times or manages to calm even Yanagi down when things are going for the worst worse just shut down once he find out reader is either fatally injured or dead.

Imagine seeing him just stare with mouth open and eyes wide, uncaring about any injuries he himself may have as HSO medics deployed just rush to readers side and he sees how hopeless they seem. Imagine seeing the rest of section 6 plan together to make the situation better but you just see him staring blankly at a spot because he isn't even there.

A part of me wants to think he'd be professional and push his feelings aside until it all just comes up when everything calms down while another part thinks he'd be broken and just silent the entire time until they say he's free to go in which case he literally rushes to the HSO HQ's infirmary to find reader all the while muttering prayers to himself.

i've actually discussed some similar asks about harumasa's reactions to reader's potential death! they're all here if you're interested and haven't seen them before, anon!

i agree a lot with what you say here, actually!! in such a situation, i know harumasa just absolutely shuts down for a second. he has good control over his emotions, but he's still human. considering his agent story quest, where he's barely able to disguise his loathing for kirishima or mask his complicated feelings towards his master, in extreme circumstances, he cracks.

(rest under the cut bc i yap when it comes to harumasa lol)

i think harumasa's reaction would be different depending on if reader was dead or if they were critically injured. if they were critically injured, i think he would be able to pull himself together long enough to ensure reader was safe and that they had the appropriate medical attention. as long as they had a chance to pull through, he's not waiting around for anyone else to take action. he would still be a lot more distant, and you could see that he's not completely there, and it's unnerving when he's neither joking or serious--he's just absolutely blank because he can't quite process what's happening.

he wouldn't get in the way of what needs to be done, but i can imagine him being restless and unable to sleep as he walks around the city or the hospital and waits for news of reader. they probably wouldn't let anyone in to see reader until they were in a more stable condition, and the rest of section 6 would have try to get him to relax and take care of himself, since he's too wired to think about anything but if reader will pull through.

if reader was dead, well. lol. harumasa's crashout is IMMINENT. i don't think he's the type to act super emotional or lash out--instead, i think it's the absence of emotion that's more frightening with him. like he disassociates, and he's a thousand miles away, and his hands are shaking and his eyes are blurring and he can't even think about what he can do next.

like this is the absolute worst case scenario for him. i won't rehash things i've said before too much, but he's always thought he would die first, and he's angry he wasn't here with reader, and he hates, hates that they were alone when they were dying. like i think he loses it in the sense he's so devastated emotionally he can't even act. he might go through the motions of a professional hso officer (he's been trained, after all), and do what needs to be done, but it's not like the first case scenario of a critical injury, where he at least has the hope of reader being okay. he's just acting on autopilot atm bc it's over.

he's too pragmatic to lie to himself, but he's too attached and emotionally involved to be fine. he definitely just. breaks when he's by himself. maybe one day he'll be able to recover, but in the fallout of reader's death, i can see him either just. as someone completely changed and not quite there anymore, but i can also see him doing something slightly reckless and stupid as an outlet for his feelings bc what does he have left to lose lol. and at least he wants to hunt whatever ethereal killed reader (assuming that's the cause of death).

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC (Batfamily)

Birdwatch11 by smilebackwards

Tim hadn’t actually meant to start a popular Batwatch blog.

He hadn’t meant to start a blog at all honestly but by the time he turned eleven he’d accumulated hundreds of pictures of Batman and Robin on his Nikon DSLR and it had just seemed inefficient to go through the trouble of printing them and storing them in a box under his bed when BlogSphere had a perfectly adequate platform.

lost treasure by adelfie

"Dad, I don’t want to do this.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. This is why we brought you here,” Jack hisses. “So we can get paid.”

Or: When a cozy night out with his parents turns into a night of captivity and torture, Tim is forced to seek protection from his worst nightmare - the Red Hood.

Hey There Demons by hitthedeck

Treating magical threats lightly is never an option, especially when that threat tears holes in realities. To combat this danger, a good hero must remain vigilant and in peak physical condition at all times.

Too bad Red Robin never got that message.

Or, in which even demons can't comprehend why Tim Drake is Like That.

Stranger Things

Tell Me "Don't", So I Can Crawl Back In by KiaraMGrey

When Steve finds himself alone and without friends, following his breakup with Nancy, he decides what he needs is a distraction. Maybe some new friends who don't remind him of the bullshit life he gave up. When he literally runs into Eddie Munson, school drug dealer and self proclaimed freak, an idea begins to form. Who better to show him what life outside popularity can be like, than someone who doesn't give a shit what anyone thinks?

And Eddie? Well, Eddie is just bracing for impact.

Everybody's Friend by AmethystUnarmed

"Hey Harrington,” Eddie calls, as Steve books it to the Beamer.

Steve stops, and is only the slightest bit nervous when he says, “Yeah?”

It almost makes Eddie feel bad.

Almost.

“How’s the character creation going?”

The absolute dread on Steve’s face confirms Eddie's worst fears.

“I... I'm not going to be able to play Thursday.”

God. Dammit.

~~~

Steve's budding friendship with the Hellfire Club hits a few snags and Eddie wonders if all of this was even worth it.

Clone Wars

Standards of Professionality by Trixree

"Are we going to pretend I didn’t just find you fucking your General, vod?” Rex hisses over private-comm.

Cody doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Rex can hear the smile in Cody’s voice when he replies, “No, because I am not fucking my General, Rex’ika. I am fucking Obi-Wan. We are professionals.”

5 times Cody and Obi-Wan struggled to maintain plausible deniability regarding their affections for one another + 1 time they decidedly Did Not

Shadowhunters

prosper matrimonium by smilebackwards

"Gorgeous, sweet, community-oriented,” Magnus ticks off the positive attributes on his fingers. And he’s sure he’ll find plenty more to like about Alexander Lightwood. “I imagine suitors are beating down his door. Please tell me he’s not actually dating Lorenzo.”

Cat hesitates. “Well, if you’re really interested in Alec, you have interesting timing to say the least.”

“How do you mean?” Magnus asks.

“Alec just put his name in for the prosper matrimonium.”

Or: The disaster with the Circle swings the Clave a little more progressive. And if Magnus wants Alec’s heart, he’s going to have to compete for it

The Umbrella Academy

To Be Where You Are (So Very Far) by bobee

He'd thought he'd seen it all.

Forty-Five years in a wasteland and two weeks saving the world, only to be taken for a year by a man guided by his own self-interest. He'd seen the horrors of what this life has to offer. It's all he's ever seen.

He just hadn't known that there was one out there meant for him.

(or, Number Five, the end of the end of the world, and the start of a new one.)

On My Terms by CivilBores

"I did what you asked,” he tells her. “Now, the briefcase.”

Her eyebrows raise in mock-surprise, red lips curling up her face in a sadistic smile.

“You didn’t think that was all, did you?” she asks.

AU: The Handler gives Five a slightly different deal.