#your money that your pARENTS GAVE YOU THROUGHOUT YOUR LIFE

[missmarveledsblog]

Not just a flower child huh ? ( Logan Howlett x reader ) part 6

summary : After the discovery her parents are alive and constantly trying to get her brother bring her to them logan figure it time she got out of the mansion to explore more than the ground of the school while he thinks of feelings that been growing like the flowers she grew

warnings : none weirdly enough , logans a big softly in this and scotts bike is " borrowed " but i think the series needed a fluffy part for once. grammatical errors also not proofread .

previous part

Her parent alive and kicking  to make it worst they were closer than she originally thought which was dead . Her brother  always spoke of them in a past tense and well in away they were dead to him  and to an extent to her as well but she had question , she yearned  for answers that they only had . From little information  she could extract from her brother which honestly was getting blood from a stone on the subject  but what she did learn was they were well off living in a nice area where all the other rich people living it lavishly which was probably from the money they gotten . the price of her childhood gave them  she was always curious to see the price tag that was attached to her suffering.  

“ why won’t you bring me” she asked seemed like she was a broken record  the same words on  repeat since she found out and  seem her brother were on the same record. 

“ because nothing good will come from it “ piotr sighed . “ you are not ready malyshka” he tried being gentle , tried to get her to understand where he was coming from . 

“ don’t call me that i’m not baby , i should decide if i’m ready it my answers not yours “ she huffed . 

“ you don’t think i want answer why i had to think i failed you , i couldn’t protect you  i want answers but we are not ready little one” he patted her head only for her to glare. 

“ i am ready it’s not like they could hurt me more” she rolled her eyes . 

“ they are colder than before “ he pointed it out. 

“ i can set them on fire warm their hearts” she shrugged. 

“ i am protecting you by not bring you there not them , i didn’t before but now i am whether you like it or not “ that hurt and finality in his voice that stop her pushing further it made her storm off with one word coming out of her mouth . 

“ suka” . 

Logan in all his years  which was a lot of living , he’d never been this way it was a strong sense that ran throughout his body warming the cold metal of his skeleton if it was possible. Intrigued by the woman who was so fierce , so strong and yet so soft and vulnerable . it was scary and amazing all in once not that he would admit that outloud . 

Even now she was storming around probably giving out about her brother  but he couldn’t tell seeing when she got like that well it wasn’t in english she spoke . 

“You know she gonna catch on to you gawking at her” scott voice startling him from the train of thought or more so infatuation he found himself stuck in . 

“ not gawking , checking to see if she ok don’t need a jungle of vines on the ground there” he shrugged . 

“ so that isn’t drool on your cheek or are you actually more animal then man” . 

“Fuck off and what did i tell you about sneaking up on me” he growled . 

“ nothing because i never have , too busy with the heart eyes it cute really” scott smiled only for jean to slap him  only for logan well to head exactly where they knew he would. 

“ least now he’ll finally stop looking at you like that” it was almost relief in the mans tone as he spoke . 

“ no he never looked at me like that” jeans head shook as she watched the man she well had a complicated relationship with a start  looking at someone with something more. Whatever thought he felt for jean he was actually feeling for y/n , jean just hoped he would accept it and see he was worthy of something more in his life then all this. 

“ whats got you storming holes through the grass , you know hot wheels takes pride in his garden “ he called making her pacing halt. 

“ well if he and my brother would just help me out and took bride  in letting me see my parents well” she growled . 

“ it’s pride with a p … look maybe it for the best parents are overrated” .

“ americans always think that” she rolled her eyes. 

“ well i’m canadian “ he chuckled confusing her more. 

“ it’s not like i’m looking for a happy family , i .. i just want answers like what makes a person wake up one morning  think oh  lets sell the child and live happy in america” she looked down at the ground. 

“ easy their assholes , selfish assholes and they call mutants monsters yet people discard or sell their offspring like it’s nothing” . 

“ well i wasn’t nothing i came with price tag “ she flopped on the ground it was everything and nothing all in once .

“ look sweetheart people like that only care for themselves not the people around them even if it is their own kids , you are worth more than anything they could of gotten “ he sat beside her not caring at the looks he was getting in the distance because he was slowly getting use to them seemed to happen a lot since she came to the mansion . 

“ you are good guy but i’m not giving up on this “ she watched the sky above it wasn’t as beautiful as the night scare but it was beautiful in it own way . 

“ i’m not a good guy . good guys get taken home to mom and pop and well men like me are flirted with “ he laughed dryly remembering it as clearly when those words where spoken to him . 

“ if mine didn’t sell me i would totally introduce you to them “ she laughed . “ you are good man even though you pretend your not “ she smiled up at him .

“ you must be getting cabin fever how about we take a trip” he stood up abruptly . 

“ are we allowed to do that?” she asked almost hushed like whisper. 

“ it not a prison bub and i’m not bringing you to your parents but maybe getting out of here will help” he held his hand out watching and waiting , hoping she would take it. 

“ lets go “ she smiled  as he pulled her up . 

Almost cat like as the two walked into the garage  she seen the jet for first time since well she was unconscious when they found her.  She never been in this part before which was weird but yet she stood in awe at all the vehicles . the only one she been in other than the jet was a windowless van with a hood on her head, she could hear the world pass bye but she never got to see it hell since coming to this place she  almost forgot there was a world.  The two stopped and her eyes looked down to see a motorcycle sitting then up to see logan coming at her with a contraption in his hand. 

“ i don’t like hoods” she stood back . 

“ its not a hood look you can see out here , you don’t have a metal dome like your brother so you need to wear it , trust me” he explained as she stood as he lowered it over her head it wasn’t heavy like she thought it would be and she could actually see out of the little slot like he said. In all that her heart was beating so fast she felt like it was going to come out of her chest. He’d never been so close , so much so she could see the extent of the hazel color of his eyes  or the scruff that was starting to grow on his face. 

“ you sit here and hold on , ok like good now no need to be scared “ he smirked as he felt her presence on his back and his claw coming to the ignition bring the bike to life . “ here hands here” he smiled pulling them to his waist kicking the stand and heading off. He felt her grip tighten as her fingers bunch up on his shirt. 

“ this isn’t you bike is it?” she asked as they were driving out the school gates . 

“ more shared custody “ he laughed. 

“ has anyone seen y/n we had another argument” piotr asked . 

“ anyone seen my bike” scott asked almost a second later causing jean and ororo to share knowing smile knowing exactly that both were with the same man . 

“Both are safe with logan “ charles spoke up. 

“ it might do her good to get out see there is more than just the school take her mind off it all she is here with just the thoughts of it all a distraction is what she needs” charles looked between the men . 

“ what about my bike “ scott whined. 

“ also safe probably more safer with y/n on it” storm smirked . 

“ he needs To atleast  use the keys before he breaks it” scott Hid the small smile on his face.  

The world was beautiful ,  it was almost magical all the greenery she passed by the wind on  her skin as she took it all it , soaked It up Like a sponge Then the transition  To the city it was almost like something out of a movie or pages  in a book .  The different contrast From greenery to the tall building almost Like they were in the clouds . 

All different colors and shapes , so many People walking going about their day . All the different scents hit Her nose some amazing , some Ok and some She wished never graced her nostrils . Then it was obvious to the man that was currently in front of her  , the feeling of his shirt at Tips of her fingers , the scent she Slowly got excited to smell each night while she sat or was walking to the kitchen. She didn't realize Lost in the feeling of Well everything , her hands gliding Along logans tshirt , comforting Motions Yet it was doing anything but such . Only for the bike to go faster and the feeling Her hand grabbing The material tightly Once more. 

He enjoyed the closeness , the feeling of her touch on him , her chest laying Against his Back it was good , too good he didn't realize he Pulled the accelerator  as hard As he did but then again it worked in his Favor too having her more Close to him . She was special he couldn't  deny it  And couldn't deny he felt something More than friendship with the woman . He wasn’t  shy if he could he would tell her not a problem , it wasn't the time she was going Through the other side of a life of hell so instead of it all he would help her as much as he could . Build A friendship he Was happy with that for now and meant It . She first person not to see him as a project , subject  to examine Or something to play with when life got a little boring . Although they were good friends now at start it was exactly how jean made him Feel .  

The bike pulled to a stop she hopped Off looking around making him chuckle. 

“ here you'll see it better without this” he chuckled Taking the helmet off her head . Her eyes looking up At the big gate . it was what she remembered well from the print of it  from her grandmothers album . she always said when she  was  older every landmark in that book she was a going to see for herself . Now here she stood  at one of those landmarked moments in her grandmothers album . the same exact place only in color and not in the print she was looking with her own eyes it was a surreal moment.  Something that felt so far removed  and yet it was happening in real time .  she could help the smile that over took  face it was probably biggest smile logan seen on her face that was for sure . another surprise how energetic she was  almost bouncing from foot to foot to even get start and yet she stay in one part til logan got close once he did she put her hand in his and pulled him forward eager to explore they place she only heard of in a stories .  not once  did her grip on his hand pulled away even when she was looking at statues  and getting him to read the signs she couldn’t .  her eyes wide and curious watching people pass by or dogs on their leashes she almost hid , she forgot all this existed  it was a bittersweet thing to being free was relearning the things that existed animals , people and places.  Even ducks and local park life was so foreign to her mind and yet she knew what they were but it was like it was imaginary in away . some parts reminded her of the mansion she wondered if this park was where charles got inspiration .  He watched , talked her through everything frankly he was torn  between sad and thinking the reactions were adorable . small things that were almost a luxury to her where as he and many people in the park or even mansion . all the things that usually didn’t really get a second thought and now he realized he was kinda grateful to experience it all again .  then she froze completely her brows arched like she was trying to figure out something  til the first time she let go of his hand and walked ahead almost running leading him to follow.  She went to the bushes and disappeared and reappeared before he could even react to what was happening. 

“ you know you can’t take that home” he chuckled as she looked up and little fluffball in her hands . 

“Why not he’s alone , isn’t that what the school is for” her head tilted” she smiled looking down. “ i already named him logan meet bub” she beamed holding the kitten out poor thing was in a rough shape almost  resembling her when he first saw her in the cage  and yet a little cute. “ i will deal with professor man ” she shrugged taking his hand again .

“ oh this i will want to see” he chuckled following after her slightly disappointed til she took his hand again . 

“ can we come back here” she asked softly . 

“ yeah we can come back anytime you want sweetheart” `he smiled instantly he knew there and then she was the one for him . 

" he can't say no to bub" she giggled as the kitten nuzzled into her arm.

" i call you bub though " logan smirked .

" i like sweetheart more" she smirked walked a head pulling him behind her .

taglist : @oscarissac2099 @ayamenimthiriel @mega-kittyglitter-1

[queridaz]

my roommate saying she’s paying for college w/o her parents help bc it’s her money, but that money is her 529 college fund and stocks she owns like...

[obsessivelullabies]

⎯ yandere sugar daddy könig.

pairing : könig x fem!reader.

tags : fluff, yandere behavior, yandere headcanons, könig x reader, sugar daddy, sugar baby, sugar daddy könig, yandere könig.

prompt : you're a broke college student, you sign up for a sugar daddy website, hoping for a quick coin. however, what you find is an obsessive older man who's willing to provide you with everything you could possibly need.

warnings : daddy kink, yandere behaviors, smut [at the end], size kink, praise kink, breeding kink.

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

⎯⎯ college wasn't exactly the best time in your life, you didn't have your parents support, you were working a dead end job with barely enough money to feed yourself. it wasn't until your friend recommended this sugar daddy website did things look up.

⎯⎯ you were contacted by an austrian man who called himself könig. he explained he was a colonel in the military, but he couldn't tell you much else. you would see him when he was home from his deployments. he explained all this over texting, along with his social anxiety problems. you sympathized with him. you had only seen one photo of his face, yet he seemed handsome. he had long hair and a scarred face.

⎯⎯ finally, you agreed to meet könig in person over dinner at a fancy restaurant. you could tell he was anxious to just be around you, considering how he fidgeted throughout almost the whole meal as you two went over the agreement of your arrangement. you were shocked by his height as well, he was 208 cm/6'10, which really stuck out. you decided to not mention it to him.

⎯⎯ he convinced you to only see him, saying he'd pay you enough so you only needed to see him, which slightly relived you. you were to always answer his texts and calls as soon as possible, he'd give you an allowance and similar rules were all agreed upon.

⎯⎯ whenever könig was home, you spent a lot of time with him. he seemed to love having you around, always taking you out shopping, out for meals, having you at his home. you had him wrapped around your finger.

you had just returned from a shopping trip with könig, he set down all the bags of clothes and jewelry he had bought you on the counter. you spent a lot of time at his house, which was stunningly large, despite him living alone.

with a smile on your face, you lead him over to the couch, playfully making him sit down. you straddled him, covering his face with kisses, "thank you, daddy." you cooed sweetly to him. you finally kissed his lips, which he hungrily returned.

"anything for you, liebling.." he whispered, wrapping his arms around you, bringing your body closer to him. you gave his jawline a final kiss before wrapping your arms around his neck and cuddling into him.

könig rested his chin ontop of your head, rubbing circles on your back. he tightened his grip on you. you spent a lot of time in the prison of his arms, könig seemed to love holding you, having your body close to his.

⎯⎯ when könig was off on deployment, he would call and text you as much as he could. every free moment he had was spent focused on you. he got angry with you if you didn't answer in a few minutes or less, accusing you of seeing someone else. to which, you'd have to spend hours on a phone call soothing him and his worries.

when you finally picked up your phone, you were met with an irritated sounding könig, "where the fuck have you been?" he hissed.

you took a deep breath, not wanting to react rudely to him. "i was in class, i'm sorry, i just got back to my dorm." your tone was honeyed for him.

his tone didn't soften at all as he replied almost childishly. "it shouldn't have taken you so long, were you with someone?" you understood what he meant. he always assumed you were breaking the rules of your agreement or 'cheating' on him.

you kept your sweet tone, "of course not, daddy.." you pouted. "i've missed you too much, i don't want anyone else. i just want you." you knew exactly what to say. he had done this multiple times.

könig finally softened. "i see.. i've missed you too.. i want to feel you again, i want to kiss you again.." you could feel a hint of sadness in his tone.

"mm, i miss you more! you'll be back next week, right?" you cooed.

könig responded, sounding much happier than before. "ja, will you send me more photos of you, baby? i miss your face.."

you giggled, "of course, daddy." he seemed pleased with that. you spent the next hour and a half on the phone with him, listening to him talk about his day, and telling him about yours.

⎯⎯ the more time you two were together, the more attached könig became. he needed more of you, he wanted all of you. könig would constantly encourage you to blow others off to spend time with him. a few months into your relationship, you had lost ties with most of your outer circle of friends, barely having any time to spare.

⎯⎯ after ten months, he was encouraging you to drop out of college. who needed a silly degree when daddy could take care of you? he wanted you to move in with him. he promised he would take care of your every need and lavish you with affection and gifts.

⎯⎯ during this time, könig got much more affectionate and needy. he became infatuated with you entirely. you were his everything, he made himself the most important thing in your life. könig made sure you had the least amount of time for friends or family as possible.

⎯⎯ now, you spent almost every day and night at his house. the only exceptions were your classes and time you set aside for homework. he always scoffed and whined when you said you had to leave, doing anything to make you stay.

right now, you had a scheduled class. you were supposed to be ten minutes into that class, yet here you were, in könig’s bed, laying underneath him, biting back tears.

“daddy,” you whimpered through your heavy breaths, “it’s not gonna fit!”

könig rubbed circles on your swollen clit as you said this. “shh, schatz, i’ll make it fit. just lay back and relax for daddy, ok?” he reassured, kissing your forehead softly.

you took deep breaths as he slowly jammed his cock into you, your body began to tremble. you let out cries, clawing könig’s back. no matter how much foreplay you got in, you always struggled to take könig’s entire length.

as he fit it all in, he gave you a small kiss. “see, liebling? it’s all in.”

you swallowed hard, nodding slowly. his large hands were gripping your hips as he began to gently thrust into you. you moaned, his thick cock was too much.

“fuck.. you feel so good, schatz.. so tight..” he whispered, quickly speeding up despite your cry of panic.

the sounds of skin slapping echoed in the room as he pounded into you, your cunt crying from the abuse. you dug your nails into his back, now starting to feel a pleasant knot in your belly. you gasped, your back arching into the bed.

“all mine,” he said breathlessly. his grip on your hips tightened as he continued using you like you were his personal fucktoy. “you’re all mine.”

he sped up, much to your own pleasure, the pain had subsided as you moaned and babbled out praise for him, your legs wrapped around him.

you neared your climax, your whole body trembling. “daddy—‘m gonna cum..” you said through your moans, your body clinging to his.

könig kissed you sweetly, despite his animalistic pace. “such a good girl, schatz. cum for me, cum on my cock,” he groaned. your walls clenched around him as you dissolved into your pleasure, tears leaking out onto your cheeks.

as you came, he kept up his unforgiving pace, he let out groans of contentment. he wiped the tears off your cheeks before kissing you softly through your mutual cries of pleasure.

as he continued, he whispered sweet nothings to you until he reached his climax. “‘m gonna pump you full of my cum, alright, engel?” he kissed you passionately, continuing to ram his cock into you. “be a good girl and take all of it, understood?” you couldn’t murmur a response, too fucked dumb from his pounding.

soon, könig came inside you, painting your walls white. he fucked his hot cum into you before finally stopping. after a moment of making sure you took the majority of his cum, he slid his cock out.

könig kissed your forehead sweetly, tucking you into bed and quickly wrapping his arms around you. he lavished kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

“this was better than your class, right, liebling?”

masterlist.

[jaythes1mp]

1224 words, 7239 characters, 54 sentences, 27 paragraphs, 4.9 pages. Tag list: @zero-s-tea @chemicalsandghosts @yandere-enthusiast @starsdotalk @small-mushroom-fae

Your secrets are ours, kid

Yandere BatFam x Reader — CH10 -> CH9 -> CH8 -> CH7 -> CH6 -> CH5 -> CH4 -> CH3 -> CH2 -> CH1

You had always had a vague understanding that your biological father was well-off, as he would consistently transfer a substantial amount of cash to that woman each month. However, while you were fortunate enough to not have grown up in the most deprived area of Gotham, it didn't necessarily mean that you had lived in the lap of luxury either.

Despite the knowledge that your father was wealthy, you had still scraped by in a small, cramped apartment, constantly relying on his financial support and night jobs to survive. You supposed that your situation could have been worse, but it didn't make the reality any more bearable. You often wondered what it would be like to live in a well-appointed home and never worry about money, but those thoughts were quickly thrusted aside and squashed down by the woman’s polished heel. Every time, the woman’s sharp words brought you back to reality.

You hadn’t deserved that life. She would remind you time and time again.

You grimace, the thought of your mother, or rather, that woman, entering your consciousness disgusting you. You weren't sure if she'd ever truly earn the title of 'mother.'

It wasn't until you reached the age of eleven that you become painfully aware that not every child had to desperately plead with their mother for food, and that it wasn't normal for parents to hold their kids needs over their own heads.

It had become abundantly clear to you from a young age that the woman was never truly interested in motherhood and had only kept you out of a slim chance that one of the men she had whored herself out to would be wealthy. She targeted men at lavish galas, her sole purpose for going being to hook up with them in exchange for large amounts of money. They usually sent nondisclosure agreements along with the cash, ensuring her continued wealth. However, your existence disrupted her carefree lifestyle. ‘It was perfect, until you came along.’ She’d say.

She had exploited Bruce Wayne for money. Getting him drunk with enough press around to stress about his ‘playboy image’ to bed her. Afterwards, she demanded a large sum of money, and he gave it to her without a second thought. He hadn’t even fully read over the details. Just signing up for a wire transfer to her account every month for the next few years. He hadn’t even been aware of you.

Too preoccupied with training the young Robin to even be aware of your birth.

Throughout your life, the woman had consistently manipulated the truth, spinning a tale in which it was your fault that your father had ‘left.’ And, despite your reservations, a small part of you still believed her words.

She had carefully cultivated your sense of guilt, instilling the belief that your very existence had driven your father away. Her venomous words and manipulative behavior had left deep emotional scars, convincing you that you were unworthy of a loving father's affection. Or rather, anyone’s affection.

That day, when you turned sixteen, was the day that woman unceremoniously ushered you out of her home. Clothes and any belongings that she didn't deem worthy enough to sell for a few hundred dollars were carelessly thrown out into the hallway. By the time you made it back from work, most of your belongings had already been looted by the other tenants and homeless kids who roamed the building.

With a mixture of desperation and hope, you had gathered the few remaining possessions that you could salvage, cramming them into your work bag. Your fingers had trembled slightly as you dug out your old, cracked phone. Desperation clawed at your chest as you dialed her number and slammed your fist against the door.

You hadn’t been surprised when your repeated calls went unanswered. Frustration and anger boiled within you, mingled with a pang of hurt and despair. Deep down, you knew it was futile to even attempt to break down the door, as that would only result in consequences that you were unwilling to face.

With a steely determination, you forced back the tears that threatened to overwhelm you, walking to the nearest bank with a firm resolve. You withdrew every penny you had painstakingly saved over the past two years and closed the account, ensuring she could no longer access any of your hard-earned money.

Armed with the few thousand dollars you had managed to retrieve, you began a desperate search for someone, anyone, who would be willing to offer you a roof over your head. Despair gripped your heart as you realized how limited your options truly were.

At that point, the members of the Batfamily had been cognisant of your existence for about a year. Bruce having taken a DNA test for Alfred’s medical examination. Yet, despite their general awareness of your presence, it seemed they had made no direct attempt to reach out or provide assistance. On the surface, your life appeared stable. You resided with a supportive parent, attended school, and held down a job. From all outward appearances, there didn't seem to be anything particularly noteworthy or concerning about your circumstances.

But they were detectives. One would expect them to possess keen eyes for details, especially when it came to the nuances and subtle signs that might indicate something amiss. Yet, they had missed the marks, failing to acknowledge the more subtle indications of your turmoil.

Jason discovered you the morning after you had been cruelly cast out from your home. You were found sleeping outside, your weary head nestled against your overstuffed work bag. Wearing an old, frayed sweater for a makeshift blanket.

Typically, he wouldn't have paused to take note of a sight akin to this. He was all too gruesomely acquainted with the sight of homeless, neglected children on the streets. But as his gaze fell upon you, there was an unsettling sense of familiarity that snagged his attention.

The question nagged him persistently, scratching at his consciousness like an untamed itch. Where had he come across you before?

Then, suddenly, recognition flashed across his mind. You were the same child Damian had fixated upon just over a year ago. The demon spawns little obsession.

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Why on earth were you on the streets? It was blatantly obvious that it wasn’t a safe environment for anyone, let alone you. The mere notion of the young Wayne finding out that his blood kin was unhoused would undoubtedly send the typically stoic demon into a frenzy.

He let out a resigned sigh, leaning down to gently nudge your huddled form. His sharp, calculating grey eyes roved over your slumbering figure, taking in every minute detail with a sense of keen observation.

You stirred at the touch, groggily lifting your head from your overstuffed bag. Your bleary eyes slowly peeled open, blinking owlishly in the early morning light. Confusion and exhaustion mingled in your expression as you caught sight of Jason crouched down in front of you.

That was the day your life began to intertwine with the tightly woven web of the Wayne family. From that very moment, you became ensnared within the complex and sometimes suffocating grip of the Wayne's protective and possessive nature.

No use of y/n, no use of any descriptive features for the reader, no gender mentioned.

Shorter than usual, but more of a dive into the reader’s backstory.

Comments, asks, and reblogs are very appreciated! Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 5

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: We’re going deeper and darker on this one, with an ending you might not expect...

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. TW: attempted sexual assault (not successful), violence, character death, drug use, and a twist.

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 5: Eminence Front

Your last conversation with your mother was on a Sunday morning, in hospice.

You sat at her bedside and held her hand. Chris and your father were downstairs in the hospital food court, ordering sandwiches. You hadn’t had much of an appetite for three days.

“I had your father call the whole family so they could watch the music video with you and Soldier Boy,” your mom said. She wore a proud, if weak smile. “He even recorded a few tapes of it. He sent one to your aunt, another to your cousins, and another to our friends Leah and Stan.”

“Pretty sure that’s illegal piracy, Mom,” you said with a laugh.

“I don’t care. You’re my daughter, and you’ve worked incredibly hard to get here,” she said. Her eyes misted over a bit in memory. “We’ve all worked hard.”

You stilled at that. You didn’t know what memories she had filtering through her head, but you were sure your perspective behind the lens was…different.

In your mind’s eye, you saw yourself at twelve years old. Chris had been pestering you all day, as big brothers were wont to do sometimes. With a slap on his arm, you’d screamed at him to leave you alone.

He didn’t speak to you for a whole month. He didn’t go to your piano recital or your choir concert, where you had the best solo. He didn’t talk to you until you touched him again, grabbing his arm, pleading with him.

"Please, whatever I did, I'm sorry. Just talk to me!"

He startled as if he’d woken up from a dream.

Your parents had shared a look, and they’d known then that their gamble had worked.

You remembered being sat down by your mother and told that they had spent their entire life’s savings to make you a hero. So you were going to spend the rest of your young life training to be one.

“We’re investing in your future, but we’re also investing in ours.”

You remembered sleepover invites rejected and summer plans canceled on your behalf. Your mother used her meager retirement fund to sign you up for vocal lessons from a former opera singer. Your high school football coach father drilled you to condition your body like an athlete.

You never had a moment that wasn’t scheduled. You were always exhausted, taking whatever “supplements” your parents gave you to keep you going. (Often it was Adderall, until it started giving you insomnia, among other delightful side effects.)

You were miserable. Then again, you’d be surprised by what you could get used to.

The end goal was always getting into Payback. It was where you’d garner the most fame and make the most money, and therefore, make the most returns on your parents’ investments.

So your father later took out a loan to get you some basic combat training from an ex-Vought employee. Your parents wanted you to be well-rounded and prepared for anything when you got onto the team—and it was always when.

If was not part of the story.

Any small commercials and modelling gigs you landed throughout middle school and high school helped pay for your family’s bills, and later for college, where you double majored in Vocal Performance and Marketing. You would learn how to become your own brand.

Through it all, you always remembered what your mom had said to you on the set of your first commercial. You were crying because the hours were long and you missed your friends, and even your brother.

“Come on, let’s wipe those tears. You don’t want to smudge your makeup,” she’d said. When you couldn’t be consoled, she guided you over to a quieter corner of the set. “Listen, sweetheart. Don’t let them see you upset. You'll get a reputation for being difficult to work with.”

“I don’t care! I don’t want to do this anymore,” you said, sniffling badly as you scrubbed at your eyes. Your mother sighed sharply.

“You’re just starting out. Of course there are going to be growing pains,” she said. “Showbusiness is a cutthroat world, and yes, you’re so young. Maybe too young.”

She wiped your face with gentler hands, then she laid them on your shoulders and made sure you met her eyes.

“But you’re going to be better prepared than most superheroes. You can literally read men. You know what’s in their hearts, and you can control them. As a woman in this world, do you know how damn powerful that is?” she said.

She squeezed your shoulders.

“That’s why you’ll be smarter than any of them, and you’ll only show the world what you want them to see.”

What you want them to see…

“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” you said at last.

Your mom nodded and stroked your hand. Her eyes fell closed in rest. She looked so small and frail in her bed.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” she said. “Always remember that.”

Your lower lip trembled, and your eyes stung. You couldn’t help but feel hollow. What was there to be proud of? You’d failed. All your hard work was meant to give your family a better life, not…this.

“You’re so beautiful and talented,” she continued. “And you’ll get your father out from under these medical bills I put on him, won’t you?”

Deep in your soul, a painful ache twinged.

You ignored it and nodded in agreement.

“I’ll take care of Dad, don’t worry.”

Your mother died the next morning. You wrote a statement about her passing to explain your absence to your fans. It went through Madelyn Stillwell and Arthur before they released the press release and even had it covered in Vought News. Then you spent the next week entrenched in funeral arrangements with your father and brother.

When you eventually returned to Vought Tower after the funeral, it felt like another part of you had chipped off.

Your room was filled with flowers and gifts from your fans, which managed to make you wide-eyed, and even tearfully touched. So this was the power of fame, then?

But there was one vase filled with beautiful scarlet roses. Attatched was a handwritten note:

Welcome home.

You thought you recognized the scrawl. A small smile graced your lips.

You gave into the desire to venture up to the penthouse floor, and knock on Ben’s door. He opened it himself. He was dressed down for once in the afternoon, in a normal sweater rolled up to his elbows and tucked into his slacks. Once he saw you, he was a little surprised.

You held up the note for his view. “Was this you?”

He smiled slightly, but he didn’t answer you. He just welcomed you inside. You followed him into the living room area and sat heavily on the couch. An album was playing on his record player. You recognized Sinatra’s smooth voice singing “My Way.”

“You want a drink?” Ben asked.

“Whiskey, neat,” you replied. He rose a brow, but he fulfilled your request.

While he was busy, you grabbed his forgotten half a blunt from the ashtray on the coffee table, and you lit up. You didn’t often partake in drugs because you didn’t like being out of your lucid mind. You preferred being in control.

Today was different. You needed a distraction. Maybe that was why you were here to begin with.

You accepted the glass he handed to you and took a generous sip, though you coughed at the burn on the way down. And you took a puff, the smoke irritating your throat even more. You practically coughed up half a lung, until he sat down beside you and reached out his hand. You passed the blunt back to him. You two traded off hits until it was more than halfway down to the roach, and he eventually put it out on the ashtray.

“My offer still stands, you know,” he said.

You turned to him. Even in your “enlightened” state, you could feel his intentions. The way he roamed your body with his eyes was unmistakable, but just then, you had a moment of clarity. You couldn’t be bothered to play this game, or hide your true thoughts for that matter. You smiled to yourself, and you stood.

Ben got up with you, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Thank you,” you said, “for finally showing me who you really are.”

His lips slowly pulled into a frown. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“My mom died,” you said. “I know you knew that, but you couldn’t even muster up a basic ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or whatever the fuck.”

You even laughed through the spark of tears. You wiped at your face. “This place is exactly what I thought it would be.”

The man was silent while you finished the drink in one long gulp. You slammed the glass on his counter, and you left his apartment.

It wasn’t the first time Ben watched you walk away from him, but despite his outward stoicism, it was the first time he felt the sting of it.

You knew it would be difficult at Vought, but you were finding it more and more challenging to keep focused as the months went by.

On one mission, Ben threw a man out of a three-story apartment. He lived, by some miracle, but shattered almost every bone in his body.

On another, Black Noir choke-slammed an escaped convict so hard, her esophagus caved in. And it was a good day if the TNT Twins even zapped the right culprit.

You were increasingly wary of the collateral damage and violence you were being complicit in, just by being there. You had to keep reminding yourself of why you were here. You needed to take care of your father, who was still swimming in your mother’s medical bills and funeral costs. You needed to prove to yourself that you could do this, with or without Ben’s help.

Even so, a day you were called to a full team mission made you more anxious than excited.

It was a drug ring that the police had been trying to dismantle for nearly a decade: Los Reyes. They were the "kings of cocaine," and they were brutal in their retaliations, locked in a turf war with one of the Italian mafias. As Stan Edgar had explained, the police were grateful for any help that Payback could provide.

You guys were sent to a warehouse in Hell’s Kitchen. According to law enforcement intel, it was the base of the Reyes gang's operations.

Infiltrating it was the easy part. Countess blasted right through the front doors, revealing your entire team to the group of men huddled around entire tables and crates filled with product.

When a man aimed a gun at you, Ben threw his shield. It hit the man, who then crashed into a support beam and broke his back in half. Your eyes went wide in horror at seeing his lifeless ones. You gaped up at Ben.

“Was that really necessary?” you asked in alarm.

"Would you rather get shot?” he said coolly.

The others picked off a few men in the room, but the rest of the gang scattered into other rooms within the large building. Ben barked commands for who should go in which direction.

“Sirena, you’re with Swatto. Head east towards the alley and cut off any rats,” he commanded.

You wanted to take issue with being partnered with Swatto. You glanced over at him. After how you compelled him a few months ago, he still had a grudge against you as well. But you two knew better than to argue with Soldier Boy on a mission.

You and your partner ducked out the east side into the alley. Sure enough, you saw blood splatters on the wall from a handprint, and drips of blood leading down the concrete path. After sharing a nod, you and Swatto followed the line of blood.

You turned the corner into a dusty construction site, where a new skyscraper was only partially built. Some walls were up along with the foundation, but it was mostly dirt, bare concrete walls, and piles of brick.

When you turned a corner, you and Swatto stopped short as bullets rained your way.

“Oh, fuck!” Swatto shouted. He pulled out his gun and decided to fly above. You heard more shots and men screaming, and then, it was quiet. You cocked your own gun, though you hoped you didn’t have to use it. The problem with your powers was you needed to be close enough to touch someone to actually compel them, man or woman.

Your last resort was your actual siren song, a power you rarely used. Mainly because it was lethal to any man who heard it. For that reason, it had to be your in case of emergency break glass tactic.

So you crept around the corner to see what Swatto had done. You were surprised to find that he fought well. He managed to kill a few of them, but one large man was still alive. He was on his knees in the dirt with his hands folded behind his head.

“See? Ain’t so fuckin’ tough now, huh?” Swatto taunted. “Get ready to get fucked in the ass in jail, Paco.”

You grimaced in disgust. “All right, that’s enough. Just—”

Before you could realize what was happening, the man raised up from the ground and swept the gun from Swatto’s hands. It flew across the clearing and hit the wall, setting the gun off. A bullet ricocheted and grazed Swatto in the side. 

“Aw, fuck! I’m fucking hit!” he yelled in alarm. His wings expanded from his back, and he raised off the ground in flight. Your eyes widened.

“Where the hell are you going?” you shouted.

“I’m hit! I need a hospital!” His voice grew smaller as he flew away like a fucking coward.

It left you alone with a man twice your size. He seized you up with a smirk.

“Hey, baby,” he said. “You’re the new one, right?”

You raised your gun and fired, but you were too late. He evaded and grabbed the gun from your hands. You held your ground after the first punch, but the second and third made your legs shake. You were more durable than the average human, and you were well trained. Unfortunately, you didn’t have super strength like most of your teammates.

You blocked when you could and gave blows of your own, but this man was large enough that it didn’t slow him for long. He wore a sweatshirt with long sleeves, so you couldn’t easily compel him with a touch.

Okay, this warrants an emergency, you thought in alarm. When you opened your mouth to sing, he shot out a sharp blow to your throat. Maybe he thought you were going to scream for help, but it had its intended effect of choking you into silence.

He grabbed you and proceeded to beat you down, until you felt the sharp breaking of ribs and blood and dirt in your mouth. Every time you tried to slip away or get to your feet and escape, he knocked you back down. He was toying with you, and having fun with it too. You could sense his sick enjoyment.

But then, you felt his intentions shift. Darker, and more carnal. A more intense fear coiled in your stomach, rising up into your throat. A gasp got stuck there as you tried harder to crawl away.

He grabbed your ankle and dragged you back towards him. He took your wrists when you tried to claw at his eyes, or even just touch his face to try and enforce your power over his.

Just a scrap of skin. That’s all you need.

A whimper escaped you as you struggled, but you kneed him hard between the legs. That managed to stop him for a moment as he grunted and cursed. He got a hold of a meaty hand around your neck. Your eyes glowed in desperation.

Suddenly, the man’s weight lifted off you.

You panted for breath and raised yourself up on your elbow. You watched with wide eyes as Ben slammed your attacker’s face into the dirt until he couldn’t breathe. Ben glanced at you, taking in the sight of your bloody face and cut lip, your arm wrapped around your battered ribs.

His frown deepening in displeasure, he bent the man’s arm until it broke in at least two places. His howls of pain echoed into the night. Ben cut it off by twisting the man’s neck, until it released a loud crack.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust. He barely even wiped his gloves before he stood straighter. Then he went back to you.

“You all right?” he asked gruffly.

You stared up at him with tears shining in your eyes. You tried to answer, but it hurt your throat. It was also painful for you to move your body. You tasted blood in your mouth and knew it had dribbled down your chin.

With a rough exhale through his nose, Ben lowered down and slid his hands underneath your body. You cringed and cried out when he moved you, but you were grateful. You were embarrassed. And you were exhausted.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you folded your arms over your battered middle. You couldn't help but lay your head against his chest.

The rest of the team was waiting at the other end of the clearing, except for Swatto. Even Countess was quiet as she watched Ben carry you out of the construction site.

You spent a couple of days in the hospital. There you were surrounded by Vought security fielding off any journalists or tabloids, and you were accompanied by your dad and brother.

Chris especially was angry for you, not to mention worried, but you tried to hide your pain and reassure them that you would be okay. This was just par for the course when taking down the bad guys.

Yeah, that one sounded hollow, even to you.

You were grateful when you got out of the hospital and were sent back to the Tower. Even so, the doctor had you mostly on bedrest until your ribs healed up. You weren’t proud of it, but you wallowed in your embarrassment and a bit of self-pity while you watched a marathon of Cheers and ate from a box of assorted chocolates. You dug around for your favorites, but you kept getting the weird shitty filling ones.

“Sometimes you wanna go where everybody knows your name, and they’re always glad you came,” sang the TV show theme song. “You wanna be where you can see, our troubles are all the same. You wanna be where everybody knows your name…” 

“Bullshit,” you muttered aloud. Such was your grouchiness that you had half a mind to change the channel. This godforsaken sitcom was too damn cheery, no matter how much you loved Ted Danson’s fine, rugged ass.

God. Maybe I do have a type.

That was when a knock at the door threatened to disrupt your solitude.

“Who is it?”

“It’s me.”

You’d now recognize that smooth, deep voice anywhere. Sighing, you closed the box of chocolates and hid them under your pillow before you turned off the TV.

“Come in,” you said.

Ben stepped into your apartment and soon found you in your room. It was the first time he’d ever been in here, and he took a subtle look around. He wore his suit and tactical gear.

“Just come from a mission?” you asked.

He nodded and approached your bed. He smiled slightly.

“Eating your feelings in Whitman’s, huh?” he teased, tapping his nose. He could probably smell the chocolate.

You blushed and crossed your arms on reflex, but you grimaced when the motion made your ribs twinge sharply. You made a sound of discomfort and lowered your arms back to your sides. You shifted in the bed as slowly as you could. You’d been in this position for a while.

“How’re you holding up?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m peachy,” you groused. When you looked up at him though, you realized that he hadn't needed to come visit you. He was here of his own free will…and there was something you had yet to say to him. You sighed and met him with sincerity.

“Look…thank you, for saving me,” you said.

Ben inclined his head. He lowered down and sat beside you on the edge of your bed.

“You may not like how I run things here, but this is the way of it,” he said, holding your gaze. “This is the real fucking world. If you’re going to stay here, you need to get with that program, or this place is going to chew you up and spit you out.”

That fell between you two for a moment. The more you turned his words over in your mind, the more you realized that he was right, to a point. If you stayed, this was your life. You couldn’t keep handwringing. You had to be smarter.

“I’m sorry, I’m not looking very camera ready,” you said eventually. You meant it to be joking, but your voice was heavy. “I wouldn’t blame you for averting your eyes.”

You half expected him to make a joke about your black eye and torn lip. But to your surprise, Ben picked up your hand with a kind of gentleness. He raised the back of it up to his lips for a kiss. He gave you a reserved smile.

“Rest up,” he said.

He got up and strode out of your apartment. Not for the first time, he left you feeling unbalanced…and this time warm.

It took a few weeks for you to fully heal. You agreed to do an interview with Jason Carver, the anchor of Vought News. It was a bit intimidating being in yet another studio, and this was live.

The cameras aren’t there. This is just a stage like any other. You’re just…having a conversation, you coached yourself. You sat in an uncomfortable leather chair across from Jason at his desk.

When he got the green light from the producer, he kicked off the show by introducing you as his special guest.

“Can I just say, Sirena, we’re all very glad to see you’re all right,” he said, with a very convincing note of sincerity. Your abilities allowed you to read the truth.

Only show them what you want them to see.

You gave him a grateful smile.  

“Thanks, Jason. I appreciate that. It’s just…hazards of the job description, you know?” you said. “But I’m doing much better, and I’m very thankful that my team was there to support me.”

“Yes, the rest of Payback really stepped up to not only apprehend your attacker, but round up the entire Reyes gang. Is that right?” he said.

You nodded, reading the teleprompter. You were meant to go on a mini monologue about how great your team was, and how grateful you were to be a part of it. It was a script approved by Madelyn, and even Stan Edgar.

You paused, glancing over to where Arthur and Madelyn stood in the dark with the rest of the crew. They were both looking at you encouragingly, but expectant.

You took a steadying breath, and you decided to go a bit off-script.

“Well, actually, it was Soldier Boy who saved me,” you said. Jason’s brows rose at your shift in direction, but he reacted with all due interest.

“Really?” he prodded.

“Yes, he did,” you said. The memories of that night filtered through your mind with harrowing detail, including the way Ben stepped in and brutally handled that man. “He didn’t even hesitate. He just threw himself into the fray…and when it was over, he carried me to the hospital himself.”

That part wasn’t exactly true. He’d carried you over to a Vought-owned SUV, and the director of the camera crew drove you over to the hospital. You decided to gloss over that detail, and many others.

“Wow,” Jason said. He shook his head in wonder. “He truly lives up to the legend, doesn’t he?”

You smiled. “He’s more than that. Believe it or not, Soldier Boy was the first one to take me under his wing. He knew I was new to the city, so he guided me all over New York to see the sights like a tourist. Stuff I’m sure he’s seen millions of times, like Top of the Rock and Times Square. Oh, and he was also very gracious when my nephew came to visit. Got me some major brownie points for ‘Best Aunt in the World.’”

That earned you a congenial smile from your host. Your expression faded with a kind of weight in your heart.

“Ever since I got here, he’s been the one to tell it like it is, with that deep, authoritative voice of his,” you said, laughing a little when you tried to imitate Ben’s voice. It got you a laugh, even from those in the studio. “In a way, he’s the one who’s looked out for me the most. I’m very grateful for Soldier Boy, and of course for the rest of my team.”

When you finished, Jason nodded and clapped along with everyone else in the studio.

“Well, that’s just wonderful. Well said,” he said, and he looked straight into the camera with two fingers poised at his temple. “Soldier Boy, if you’re watching, we all appreciate you. And we salute you.”

Ben watched the clip from his living room with a small, incredulous smile on his face.

He wiped the remnants of white powder from his nose and sneezed. Blinking the bleariness out of his eyes, he refocused on the screen while you talked about him. He knew you had to be playing it up for Jason and the cameras, but you also seemed so sincere.

“He’s more than that.”

After the segment was over, he enjoyed the climax of his high while sitting back on his plush sofa. He tossed up an old baseball from his collection up towards the ceiling, this one signed by Babe Ruth. He caught it when gravity pulled it back down towards his face.

That was how Donna found him when she let herself into his apartment. She was out of her suit and wearing a little red dress, one of his old favorites. She graced him with a sultry smile.

“Busy?” she asked.

“Evidently,” he said.

She pouted, almost like a little girl. She went to him and curled herself under his arm and against his chest, draping a smooth thigh over his.

“I miss you,” she purred.

He smiled wryly and turned off the TV.

“Really now?” he drawled. “Because by my calculations it’s been…what, a few months since we’ve fucked?”

Donna paused, the smile slipping from her face.

“And I’m not counting that hand job a couple weeks back. That shit was pitiful, and a little chafing,” he said.

For the past few months, he’d been wracking his brain to remember what it was that had attracted him to this woman, besides the obvious outer packaging. He knew the difference now.

In the beginning, she idolized him. Worshipped him. Loved him. These days, she only came to him when she wanted something, and he had gotten bored. Bored of her.

As if sensing his shift, Donna moved her leg off his lap and sat up with a frown.

“Well, then let me fix it,” she said, as she slid a hand up his thigh. Suddenly she was all too willing to use those red-painted lips to service him. 

Ben couldn’t help but envision those lips as yours, a sinful red, while your mouth did sinful things. He’d gotten off more than once to the thought of it alone, ever since he shot that goddamn music video with you.

So he grabbed Donna’s wandering hand and looked at her coolly.

“Look, for whatever reason, I know you’re not happy,” he said, waving dismissively with his other hand. “Neither of us are. So let’s just stop wasting time.”

Her eyes widened. “What’re you saying?”

Ben’s brows furrowed. “Am I speaking fucking English? It’s time to call it quits, sweetheart.”

Donna’s jaw worked as she fought to keep herself under control. He had a feeling she’d be angry. She always was a little spitfire.

Her body was coiled like a spring when she withdrew her hand from his and got to her feet. She gave him an icy look.

“This isn’t going to last,” she claimed, with a prideful tilt of her chin. “In a month, a week, you’ll get tired of her. And you’ll remember that I’m the one who looks best by your side.”

Ben huffed in amusement before he laid back again. He continued to toss up his baseball.

“Keep telling yourself that,” he said dismissively. 

Donna let loose an aggravated breath, but she kept most of her reaction inside. She turned on her heel, prideful as ever, and left his apartment.

When her fingers landed on the doorknob, however, she turned back for just a moment. Silence greeted her.

It wasn’t until then that her tears finally bubbled over.

Days later, a knock on your door drew your attention out of pulling on some jeans. You were intending to go on a walk through the city, take some time to get out of the Tower and just be you for a change.

That had better not be Madelyn at the door again. She had chastised you for going off-script at the studio twice already. She made the point that she and Stan had gone over those talking points for weeks, and agreed that framing your rescue as a team effort would cover Swatto as well.

He was still laid up with a broken leg, long after the scrape of the bullet had healed. He was tight-lipped about how he’d broken said leg, but you’d heard from Tommy that he’d shattered it…somehow.

Arthur had smoothed things over about your adlib though. He pointed out that talking positively about Soldier Boy helped the whole team. He was the leader, after all.

So yeah, you hoped this visit wasn’t another passive aggressive dress down from the head of PR. You sighed and went over to get the door. You were thoroughly surprised to see Ben.

And a Ben that was wearing a regular suit, for that matter. He looked like he’d stepped out of a Hugo Boss catalogue, steeped in charcoal gray with a long black coat draped over his arm. Your mouth parted in soft shock, especially when he produced a single rose from behind his back.

You took it with tentative fingers and a blush rising hotly in your cheeks.

“Okay, what—”

“Let me take you out,” he said. “One night. You’ll get to see what it’s like to be with the most famous man in the world.”

What an opening line that was. You sensed he was in full Charm City mode, complete with a suave smile. Yours was more amused, even though you twisted the flower's soft petals lightly on your chin in contemplation.

After a few seconds to think, you gave him a patient look.

“Ben, nothing’s changed for me. I told you, I–”

“Countess and I are done, for real this time,” he said.

Once again, you were taken by surprise—mostly because he was telling the truth. You felt it.

Your brows knitted together in confusion. “When did this happen?”

“Recently,” he shrugged. “But like I said, it hasn’t been working for a while. It was a mutual thing.”

You weren’t so sure about that, but… 

This is what I wanted, you reminded yourself. In fact, it had been half what you’d hoped for when you went off-script. You just couldn’t believe it had worked this well, so soon. As much as you probably shouldn’t, part of you began to feel bad for manipulating him. For lying to him.

But it’ll be good for my career.

“…Okay,” you agreed, glancing down at your plain shirt and jeans. “Just give me some time to change.”

He raised a brow. “How much time?”

You gave him a slightly cheeky smile. “An hour, and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

He sighed, but he agreed.

“Just don’t keep me waiting all fucking day,” he said.

“Come on. What’s a little delayed gratification?” you teased. Then you gave him a more sincere smile. “I’ll see you later.”

Ben nodded, with some added charm in the look he gave you in return.

You slipped back into your apartment and shut the door. You paused there when a thought struck you.

Shit, now what am I going to wear?

AN: Did you see that one coming?

A lot of darker angst and drama in this one, sorry for that. But I think you may like what's coming up...

Next Time:

You slid your hand over his on the table. You felt him stiffen slightly, his body tensing up at your touch. You frowned when you saw the glint of wariness cross his face.

“I won’t compel you again, Ben. I promise,” you said. As long as you don’t give me a reason to.

Your hand traveled up his arm, soothing along his neck, your palm finally resting against his cheek. His green eyes stared into yours.

Soon enough, his wariness bled away into desire.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 6

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[petew21-blog]

I hate myself

I just hate my reflection now so much. His face looking back at me. I know it's my reflection now, but I still can't get used to it.

I never planned on swapping bodies with Zahir. But after what my father did, I had no choice

My father was not always a good parent, but he was great with money. He established a very fine hotel, which he planned on turning into a family business. None of my siblings were interested, because they all had their lives and their jobs. My siblings are all much older than me. I was foolish enough to think that they didn't want to help my father. But after many years of helping out instead of studying, I found out throughout that my father was a monster. He never treated people with respect, bullied his employees, and had many homophobic and transphobic comments to people, which didn't help the business, but he didn't really care as long as he had enough income.

I was closeted. And afraid to come out to my father. I knew our relationship would change after that, and I was right. After coming out to me, he never treated me the same. But he still kept me around to help him. Again, I was too naive to think that he was trying to be a better person. Nope. He got himself a new wife to impregnate and get another son. And after that he disowned me. As if I was nothing. As if I didn't help him enough to hold the place together.

I was furious and depressed. I kept checking the news of the hotel every single time I had a bit of free time. He pretended that he managed well, but it was all crumbling. And then he promoted Zahir. One of my friends who worked his way to the top by kissing ass and lying. Sorry, ex-friends now. He presented my ideas for the hotel as his own the second I left the building.

I hated him. I hated both of them from that moment. Revenge was on my mind daily now, but I had no idea how I would even attempt that.

I stumbled upon a website. It claimed to change your life for the better. Yes, you needed to pay a LOT. But I was desperate. I'm sure you understand. I sent the money and waited

I felt a nauseating feeling in my stomach. I closed my eyes. Something was happening.

I opened my eyes. YESSSS. I was back in my apartement at the hotel. Fuck yeah. It worked. I have my life back

But then I noticed some of my stuff was misplaced. The paintings on the walls were down, much more garbage on the ground than I was used to. I had a really bad feeling. I looked down

"What the fuck" a strange voice now escaped my throat. Manly, but not mine. And down below was a different view than I was used to.

Abs. I never had abs. I would kill to have abs like these, cause the gay community is so toxic about your body.

But I knew this wasn't my body. The skin was darker than my own. Maybe the website gave me a better body along with improved life

I went to the bathroom. And the second I saw my body I thought I was gonna vomit right at that spot.

Zahir

Fuckin' Zahir

That stupid freaking website turned me into Zahir

This must be a horrible joke. I turned into my enemy. A homophobic fucker who worships my father.

I looked at myself. His curly hair, his beard. I have to admit Zahir is not a bad looking guy. Maybe it could be good to be in his body. He is hot, has a great body. Maybe I could score some cute guys looking like this. And maybe I could convince my father to let me take over the hotel. I would be happier and so would my father

Ok, let's see what this body can do

I took off my new clothes. Zahir's hairy legs, hairy balls and a pretty nice dick were now available for me to explore. I entered the hot shower.

I flexed the muscles. "Oh yeah. Not bad" I touched every ridge that I now possessed. I sniffed my hairy armpits. The reeking smell hitting my nose. If I were in my body I would have been already hard at that moment

I got down to my dick. Playing with the foreskin. Feeling the weight of my new hairy balls. They were a bit larger than my own. I started jerking my new dick. Thinking about being in a new body and fucking some hot guy with it. But no matter how much I tried I couldn't get it hard.

"How do you like being impotent?" a very familiar voice could be heard behind me

I turned around and saw my old body standing in the doorway

"Zahir..."

"Not anymore, honey. I'm you now. I have to say, It's gonna get some getting used to being in your fat gay body, but nothing that a few regular trips to the gym wouldn't fix"

"Wait, you're okay with this?"

"Are you kidding? I'm now in the body of your father's heir. All I need to do is come to him and tell him I'm straight and sorry. He'll welcome me with open arms"

"Zahir, you can't do this. You can't ruin my life like this"

"Ruin your life? Honey, look at the body you now have. You should feel lucky to be looking like me. And I can't wait to tell your, sorry MY FATHER, about you stealing money and leaking secret information. He's gonna be so pissed when he finds out"

"I didn't steal anything. You can't just pin shit on my and expect it to work"

"Maybe you haven't, but I have. And I got all the evidence. Anyway, i see you're busy getting to know your... not really working manhood, thanks for that as well by the way. And I hope to never see you again. ZAHIR"

"So that's my story. That's why I hate looking at myself in the mirror"

"Right... Maybe start with something more believable next time I ask about your backstory"

"Whatever. You asked"

"Hey, the guy that was here the last time asked for you. He said that he would leave a good tip if he could piss on you"

"He knows damn well that it will cost him more. No tips will change that"

I took a shot of vodka. "Alright, let's do this. Gotta earn those money"

I looked back in the mirror at Zahir's face. God, I hate myself so much

[shallyouobeyme]

Spicey

Yandere!Bakugo Katsuki x Reader (GN)

Summary: Bakugo is convinced the two of you are meant for each other, born on the same day and friends since then, and he will go to great lengths to make sure you stay near him. It's all worth it though when you do something for him, no matter how small...

! Minors Do No Interact!

TW: Actually just very soft!Yandere Bakugo, Me being a dumbass and switching between using Bakugos first and last name a lot, mention of Bakugo maybe or maybe not threatening some people

Your friendship with Katsuki had been going strong for as long as you could remember, your mothers had met in the hospital after giving birth and the two of you had already been lying in bassinets beside each other. Soon, your mothers were fast friends and play dates between Katsuki and you became a common, mostly weekly occurrence. And so it might have been the nature of the situation or it was always meant to be like that, but as you both grew up, your friendship only grew closer.

Now, one might assume that given the closeness the two of you have had for your entire life, Katsuki must perceive you as a sister, but one would be wrong. Sure, Katsuki saw you as someone he had to protect and who was an unchangeable part of his life, but you weren't his honorary sister, no, he hadn't seen you as anything family-wise since he had been old enough to know what romance was. No, you were going to be his spouse, you already were the love of his life and nothing would change that.

With this goal in mind, he made sure throughout his entire life that you were close by, made sure his presence as a perspective (definite) spouse of yours was drilled into your mind. Your parents wanted to move, unhappy with their landlord? Bakugo was the one who gave your father all the information about a beautiful property near his childhood home with the landlord being very, very kind - and always seeming a little scared when dealing with your family. You were thinking about attending a school specialized in one of your hobbies? Bakugo took you on a campus tour at U.A. (as if he ever needed it) under the guise of being the one who wanted to see more of it and, who would have thought, the support course could make perfect use of your quirk and the teacher is really keen on you attending. Maybe you should attend U.A. with him, don't worry, he'll help you study and he'll make sure you get in.

Even after the attacks on his class - luckily not on you though or he might have lost his mind completely - and the students moving into the dorms, he somehow manages to convince Nezu to move your room near his instead of where it would usually be near your class. Don't worry, he knows you don't know many of his classmates (because he didn't 'want to share you with them), but he's there and he'll make sure you'll feel comfortable. He'll even go to those interior decoration stores and buy you things to make your room more cozy - oh, you want to pay for your own stuff? Don't be silly, he only buys you stuff, because his mom is rich and he wants to spite her by paying with her money.

A lot of your off time is now spent in either your or Bakugo's room, often studying or just hanging out doing your own thing just enjoying each other's presence. But sometimes when you asked really sweetly, maybe gave him a little kiss on the cheek, and he knew no one would surprise the two of you, he'd do things you wanted to do specifically - be it Spa Days, book clubs, trying out specific baking recipes, or even something as simple as watching a chick-flick (something Katsuki will never, ever admit he secretly enjoys doing with you).

It was safe to say that a lot of things the two of you did were catered to your interests and hobbies, because - as stated before - Katsuki wanted you to know how perfect of a husband he'd be for you. But he didn't mind, everything done for you was something he did gladly and something he'd do again without a second thought. Still, whenever you did something specifically for him or whenever you went out of your way without a cause to make him happy, he was over the moon. The feeling he got when that happened - which to be fair wasn't rare, but he still relished it every time - was something better than any win in a fight, any villain he ever did or ever will beat, and better than any feeling of superiority he got over his classmates when he did something that proved him being better than them.

One such occurrence happened on a weekend spent at his house while both of your parents were on a trip out of the city, which gave Katsuki the perfect excuse to play house in his mind with you, in his head he liked to pretend that you and him were married and spent a relaxing day in your spousal home. He had been spending the last few hours at the gym in his basement training - he didn't want to get out of shape and make you think that he'd let you go once you'll be married - and when he came upstairs he smelled something delicious, quite honestly it felt a little bit like he was a husband working all day, coming home after a busy day to his loving spouse who was already preparing dinner for the two of you.

"You're cooking?" Katsuki asked as he walked into the kitchen, savouring the view of you looking so very cute and precious nodding your head to some imaginary tune as you stirred something in a pot.

"Yes!" you answered excitedly as you smiled back at him, "I know you usually like to make dinner, but I saw this new recipe online and I really wanted to try it and it turns out you had all the ingredients for it. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," Katsuki gave you one of his rare smiles behind your back, just wishing he could come up to you - hug you from behind and give you a kiss, "I'll just quickly take a shower and then we eat, okay?"

A mere five minutes later, because Katsuki was too excited to take his time and rushed to the shower as quick as he humanly could, the two of you were sitting at the dinner table (gosh, Katsuki's mind would replay this day in his mind for months) and you served him a bowl of a Ramen-variation. Katsuki was prepared to act like this was the best-tasting meal in the whole world, just to see you smile at him, but what he was not prepared for was that after his first bite, his mouth exploded with flavour. Any normal person would have started crying at this point from the spicey goddess that just happened in his mouth, but Katsuki was more than used to this so he enjoyed it immensely. It was probably one of the best spicey Ramens he had ever tried - a main factor in this probably being that you made it.

You looked at him with a worried gaze as you were biting on your lip, waiting for his reaction: "It's too mild is it? I knew I should have added more spices," you sighed, looking disappointed in yourself, so Katsukio quickly stopped those doubts.

"It's perfect, really, this is just right. I was just surprised that you made it this Spicey, I mean, I know that you are a bit more sensitive with your puny, little tastebuds," Katsuki teased you a little bit and you blushed as you smiled a bit cheekily.

"I actually made a bowl without most spices just for me, but I wanted to do something nice for you for once - you're always doing so much for me and I wanted to."

Love pulsed in Katsuki's heart. This was the exact moments he was living for. This had to mean you loved him back, why else would you do something so amazing for him? Katsuki never had any doubts that the two of you were meant for each other - after all, you were even born on the same day, brought into this world together to live in this world together - but now he was even more sure than ever and maybe he would actually tell you what he was feeling soon. Maybe...

N/A: Thank you all for reading today's entry in my Yandere Writetober, I hope you enjoyed this and if you did, that you might feel inclined to reblog or comment. Tell me what you think, tell me what the weather is like, I don't mind either.

[xxblairexxss]

I’m sorry

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x asian!reader

Theme : Angst

Just a timeline of Charles’s girlfriend throughout the years, how she went from a girl who migrated to France when she was 6 years old to becoming a girlfriend of the Formula 1 driver, Charles Leclerc.

I’m not entirely sure about this one but I just wanted to clear my draft. I’m only tagging those who told me they wanted to be included in my general tag list! Please don’t be offended if I didn’t tag you because it’s not Jealousy part 3 😭 so I thought you don’t want to be tagged but please let me know if you wish to in all of my stories!

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2018

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2019

yninstagram

Liked by charles_leclerc and 98,765 others

ynusername dropping a selfie bcs it’s been a while

charles_leclerc Mon amour 🧸🤎

ynusername 🤎

user1 SO PRETTYY

user2 LOVING THE HAIR COLOUR!!

user3 she’s asian? can she speaks french?

user4 she has lived in france since she was 6 so yes she can

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc and 78,072 others

ynusername a quick stop for mirror selfie before rushing to class

charles_leclerc my pretty girl 🤎

user1 oh to be called my pretty girl by charles too 😭

user2 does she always dress like that?

user3 other wags just scream old money with class. this one..i’m not sure myself 😣

user4 lol she can wear whatever she wants

user2 i just wish she wear something more relevant since it’s affecting charles’s image too

user4 that doesn’t make any sense

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2020

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 103,665 others

ynusername rainy season 🌧️

charles_leclerc I miss you

ynusername I miss you too 🥺🥺

user1 I love how she still look stunning without all those expensive brands

user2 PRETTIESTTT ❤️

user3 is it just me or she looks so out of place compare to other wags?

user4 how i wish she paid more attention to her style

user5 too simple 😕

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2021

ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,231 others

ynusername loving this dress! 💛

charles_leclerc beautiful princess

ynusername love youu! 🥺

user1 meeeh tried too hard

user2 lol all those stuffs but still don’t look on par with other wags

user3 omg you look so pretty in a dress!!! AAAAA

user4 charles’s princess ❤️

user5 girl you ate and left all crumbs

“I can’t.”

Charles furrowed his brows to your answer. “What do you mean you can’t? Y/N, we have been together for more than 6 years. Don’t you think it’s time for us to start living together?”

“I got a job offer in London. I’ll be moving away in a week.”

“What? What about us? Don’t you think you should have told me first before you accepted the offer?” He blinked in disbelief, part of him was hoping that you were just pulling a prank on him.

“It was a job that my mom had always been dreaming of, Charles. She sacrificed a lot for me.”You tilted your chin to avoid the tears on your waterline to spill. “She sacrificed her life before she could play with dolls for me. I spent my childhood waiting for the sound of her keys jingling as she came back from her night shift, waking up with just a small note sticked on the side of my breakfast plate because she couldn’t wished me a good morning for having to rush to work. She gave up on her dream, crying from missing her parents in South Korea every night just to make sure I got a chance to draw my life with colours so I wouldn’t have to suffer like she did. I need to accept this job for her. Everything I have been doing and ever will do is for her and you know this.”

Charles remained silence. He had always known your mom’s struggle, raiding you alone as a signle mother and part of him had always known that if you were put in a situation where you had to prioritise your life or your mom’s life, you would always choose hers. He knew it but he was never prepared for the day to come. He couldn’t find himself to say anything else and pulled you into his embrace instead.

“And I’m tired. I’m so, so tired of the constant pressure from everyone. I can’t even wear anything that I want without getting comments about how incompatible I look, how messy I look. I– I don’t know what they– what everyone wants from me. It’s either I looked out of place, an outsider or I looked like I’m trying too hard. I don’t know what everyone expect from me. I’m happy, I’m so goddamn happy that you got to be where you are right now but the more you are building yourself, the more I’m falling apart. I’m losing myself, Charles. I feel like I have been helping you to build your garden while mine is just getting abandoned and forsaken and just full of wilt flowers.”

“I’m sorry.”

That was the last word you remembered him saying as he kept you in your arms, holding you so you wouldn’t fall on your knee from the way your body shook within every sob.

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

2022

ynusername

London, United Kingdom

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 277,663 others

ynusername took a day off to play tourist!

comments have been disabled

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2023

lancomeofficial and ynusername

Liked by charles_leclerc, and 377,620 others

lancomeofficial Lancôme newest global ambassador, ynusername lookingall glammed up by jaime.creates.

user1 OMG OMG OMG

user2 THAT’S MY GIRRLL

user3 been here since day 1

user4 She looks unreal

user5 it’s been a while since the last time i saw her in my feed 🥹

user6 still using her ex bf fame to build her name lol she’s worse than other ex wag

user7 are you high???

✧.* tags! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando

[arogaba]

This legacy is based on the same one by @sweetlysimss who very graciously gave me permission to try my hand at converting the challenge for TS3. It's not perfect but I tried my best to stick to the original rules and try and make it fun!

Tag: #nsbxbpr should be fine still or @ me if you do try this out!

Rules:

This challenge can be played with vanilla, banilla, or berry sims

As per the challenges this is based on, the romance options are a mix between those in the BPR or NSB, allowing  you to choose which you’d like (or mix them up if you wish!)

There is an optional generational challenge to paint/take a photo of your heir for every generation

The generational requirements do not need to be strictly followed/can be changed as you see fit - the important thing is to have fun!

Generation 1: White

You come from a long line of privileged sims. Life was easy for you and you never wanted for nothing. Despite the easy life, you also felt constricted, unable to be yourself. Now that you’re a young adult, you decide to break free from your parents and pursue your own dreams. Packing your bags, and taking enough money to get by with you, you run away to the old, rundown, farmhouse that the only grandparent you cared for left you in the will. Starting off with nearly nothing to your name, you decide to pursue the hobby you were never allowed to chase to its extent: painting. Due to your upbringing, you find it difficult to let other sims in and may come across as rude sometimes. What you really need is that one special sim to make you feel like it’s all worth it. Slowly but surely, as the years go by, your own family starts to grow, but life is not without its ups and downs…

Recommended traits: artistic, snob, grumpy, hopeless romantic

Career: none; make money through your paintings, fishing, and harvestables

Move into your grandparent’s old house. Must be fairly basic/rustic (the size of the house/lot is up to you)

Max the painting, gardening, and logic skills

Have multiple romantic interests throughout your life, but do not settle permanently with any of them until after you have your first child.

Go on at least one date with a purple, pink, and/or a red sim

Have one child

Get married (does not have to be the parent of your child)

Become enemies with the other sims you did not end up with

Have one more child (can be adopted or an alien baby if you wish!)

Sell at least two masterpiece paintings

Have at least two animals in your household

Optional: raise one from its youngest lifestage all the way through to elder

Be good friends with all your children and animals

Become good friends with at least one grandchild

-

Generation 2: Purple/Pink/Red

Although not everyone would believe you, you would say you had a great childhood. You grew up sheltered but loved by your parents and sibling. From a young age, you had a great passion for reading and books, though all those days spent reading might have left you with a few unrealistic expectations about life. Despite everything, you are eager to see everything that life has to offer and a sudden once-in-a-lifetime trip might change your world forever…

Recommended traits: bookworm, computer whiz, great kisser, irresistible, family oriented

Career: writer

Max the painting and writing skills

Optional: master the charisma skill too

Shortly after you become a YA go to one of the WA worlds or travel to the future. Your time here winds up inspiring you for the rest of your life

Become a writer

Either become a genre specialist or write a book from every genre

Kiss at least five different sims in your life

Leave a sim at the alter (peach or yellow)

Must have had at least two children with this sim

Have a difficult relationship with at least one of your children after the separation from your ex-partner

Have at least 3 children with any other sim (or the sim you eventually marry)

Do not marry until you are an elder

The sim you marry must be yellow or peach (whichever was not the colour of your first spouse)

The sim you marry must be in the culinary career

-

Generation 3: Peach/Yellow

It is fair to say that you grew up in quite a hectic household. The only person who spends time with you and truly understands you is your childhood best friend. The two have you been through thick and thin. They were initially drawn to you for your quiet nature, your inquisitive soul, and a passion for nature inherited from your grandparent. In your late teens, you start to notice those traits are working against you, causing others to call you “weird” or “different”, so you adapted. However, in the process of becoming this new version of yourself, you find yourself losing the one thing you ever held dead. Will you ever get your best friend back? Only time will tell…

Recommended traits: loner, shy, brooding, disciplined, athletic

Career: professional sports and then unemployed when you become an adult (though you can supplement your household funds with your collections)

Max the painting, athletic, and martial arts skills

As a child join the boy/girl scouts, and then join one of the afterschool clubs as a teenager

As a child meet your best friend in a different neighbourhood (orange or grey)

As a teen, never have any close friends except for your best friend and any of your grandparents if they are still alive

As a teen, date your childhood best friend

As a young adult, you decide to change your life around and become the social, popular sim you’ve always wanted to be

Join the professional sports career

You and your best friend begin to drift apart and eventually separate

Not long after they leave, you realise you are pregnant

You date around but nothing lasts

Complete one or more of the following collections: metals, gems, insects, fish, or plants

Do not have a good relationship with your child until they are a teenager

After becoming an adult, quit your career in sports but continue to make money by selling your collections

As an adult, reconcile with your childhood best friend

Optional: have one more child

Get married

-

Generation 4: Orange/Grey

Unlike your parents, you are far more practical when it comes to your life choices - or so you like to claim. After getting interested in your grandparent’s large book collection, you become interested in the occult, in particular witches. A mysterious book leads you to become a witch accidentally and soon strange things start to happen. Before you know it your great-grandparent has come back from the dead! In flesh and blood! How on Earth did that happen? As you begin to figure things out for yourself, a mysterious stranger takes an interest in your so called necromancy…

Recommended traits: bookworm, supernatural fan, artistic, night owl, gatherer

Career: fortune telling (you can supplement your household funds by selling potions/ingredients)

Max the painting and alchemy skills

Get a job in the fortune telling career

Date three sims but never get serious with any of them

One of these sims lead to you becoming a witch

Create every potion

Bring back your great-grandparent (up to you how this is done - you can cheat or use any of the methods in game)

Become at least good friends with them

Your necromancy catches the interest of a local doctor (yellow or purple) and you fall in love

Have at least five children together

Teach all your children their skills

-

Generation 5: Purple/Yellow

The world has so many beautiful sights to offer! You can’t wait to paint them, photograph them, or sculpt them! Your life seems to be going perfectly until one day it isn’t. One day you wake up questioning yourself, your career, even your partner! Don’t you deserve better? Of course you do! You decide to switch your life around first thing in the morning. but was it really the right choice to make?

Recommended traits: artistic, avant garde, good, excitable, savvy sculptor, photographer’s eye

Career: painter or sculptor

Max the painting skill, plus the sculpting and/or photography skills

Go to university and achieve a fine arts degree

Be enemies with at least one sibling

Start a relationship with a former classmate (orange or green)

Have at least one child

After becoming an adult, a midlife crisis hits you hard

Quit your job

End the relationship with your partner or divorce them. Afterwards, you continue to have a good relationship with them

Find a new job and skill to focus on as an adult

start a new relationship with a different orange or green sim (whichever colour was not your first partner)

Have at least one child

-

Generation 6: Orange/Green

Food is love. Crime is life. Doting parent and aspiring cook by day, criminal by night. Have you ever heard of a baking criminal? Neither have you, but someone should be the first. You have loved cooking and baking from a young age, though struggled to find your feet in the culinary career. When you leave at night your family think you are working at a swanky restaurant in town, little do they know you’re actually working for the most notorious criminal organisation in town! You prove yourself to be a hard worker but you know when to slack off and have fun. You make it a habit to visit every seasonal festival…with the bonus of getting some flirty looks from the cute sim in the crowds. 

Recommended traits: artistic, natural cook, kleptomaniac, party animal

Career: criminal

Max the painting, mixology, and cooking skills

Learn all recipes (can just stick the base game ones if you wish)

Meet your spouse (teal or pink) at one of the festivals and become instantly smitten

Have at least two children. Twins are recommended!

One child must have the good trait, one must have the evil trait

Make at least three enemies

Steal something worth at least 10,000 simoleons

-

Generation 7: Teal/Pink

You and your sibling have been together through thick and thin. You are polar opposites but are as close as can be. From a young age, the two have you have always been competing with each other. Regrettably, they always seem to be the one in the spotlight, whereas you are left floundering in the dark. What you do excel at though is school and eventually, your career. You take a job in a rather niche area, one which raises a few eyebrows for certain, but you throw your whole heart into it. Let’s see who’s the best now!

Recommended traits: artistic, good or evil, family oriented, virtuoso

Be taught all your skills as a toddler

Be on the honour roll as a child and teenager

Have three good friends from school

As a young adult, join one of the ‘entertainer’ careers: musician, singer, acrobat, magician

Master at least one instrument

Fall in love with a fellow entertainer (blue or peach)

Partner must max the guitar

Have at least two children

-

Generation 8: Blue/Peach

Music runs in your veins, you enjoy it but it is not where your true passion lies. As a young sim, you’ve always been into drama, stories, and theatre. However, the town you live in doesn’t take too kindly to people who are different, flamboyant, and attention-seeking. As a young adult, you move to a new town and throw yourself into the world of celebrities, drama, and paparazzi.

Recommended traits: charismatic, diva, dramatic, artistic

Career: film star

Master the painting and charisma skills

Join the drama club as a teenager

As a young adult, move to a new town and move to an apartment

Join the movie career

Marry a co-worker or neighbour who is also a celebrity (lavender or green)

Have at least one child

Divorce them once you surpass them as a celebrity

Become a vampire before you become a YA to preserve your looks

Have at least one child after your marriage

This child needs to have the white gen one hair colour

They will become your heir

Become a five star celebrity

Either ruin or maintain a good reputation

After becoming a five star celebrity, reconnect with your ex

Have a negative relationship with your sibling(s)

-

Generation 9: Lavender/Green 

Phew! What a ride that was! Eight whole generations have come before you, all with their own unique interests, drama, and dreams. You, however, want to take it easy. You surround yourself with simple things, friends and family, and your garden. You love the earth and want to preserve it for future generations. What will the universe have in store for you next?

Recommended traits: friendly, good, green thumb, artistic, eco friendly 

Career: gardener or inventor - maybe even both!

Max the painting and gardening skills

Move to a small, simplistic house with a garden

Have at least three friends and three enemies

Throw a party at least once a season for your family and close friends 

Accept every invitation for a party

Marry one of your best friends (colour is up to you!)

Try and live an eco-friendly lifestyle

Adopt at least one child

Teach your children all their skills

[whimsicalwritingsandmore]

The Hybrid House | ateez x reader

Pairing: hybrid!ot8!ateez x rich!girl!reader

Genre: fluff, romance, slice of life

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1441 words.

a/n: welcomeeee to my new story! this story will be updated alongside Aurorise! I'm excited to share this with you. <3 If you'd like to be a part of the taglist, please send me an ask or private message, that way I'll be able to see it faster. Hope you enjoy! <333

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Chapter 1

As a child, it was always expected that you surpass your cousins and maintain the family’s reputation. If you didn’t, you were a stain that blotched the beautiful pages in which so much effort and hard-work was put into according to your parents.

Coming from the new money generation, your family was engrossed with relevancy and out-beating everyone. They spent lavishly and focused attentively on expanding the business throughout the world. Your parents had built their legacy from the ground up, and while it was definitely something to admire, overtime they began to lose sight of what mattered and developed an intense desire to earn more and outdo your uncles and aunts who behaved in a similar way.

As such, your childhood included having to be perfect and successful in academics to outdo your cousins. Coming from a family of five siblings and as the youngest, you often found it difficult to relate to your older siblings. Your oldest brother and sister yielded to your parents’ demands ensuring their non-stop praise and favor. And your fraternal twin brother followed suit. Except for your third eldest brother Axel. Only you and Axel disliked your parents’ way of upbringing because it felt inauthentic and ingenuine. Axel included you in most of his escapades such as sneaking out at night to the treehouse in the backyard for a late night frozen treat that was definitely against your parents’ rules or a slight detour on the way home from after-school activities to the street-food cart and arcade. Once the two of you were free, you spent most of your time together breaking the rules and never getting caught. Except for that one time you did because your eldest brother decided to tattle. But Axel took the brunt of the punishment and in return, you helped apply gel to ease the burning sensation in his hands and camped out in his room for the rest of the night, discussing what the two of you wanted to do when you got older. 

He is your best friend and managed to persuade your parents to let you accompany him for the Summer to your Great Aunt’s. He concocted a scheme with your Great Aunt about a good internship opportunity but really, it was an attempt to be able to spend the vacation period away from home. Lucky for you, that Summer had your parents occupied with various business meetings and so, they waved their hands in an disinterested and unconcerned manner and let you and Axel go your way. 

If there was one person out of your venal family that still had their head on their shoulders, it was your Great Aunt. From rags to riches, she’s an eccentric and smart woman who built a successful business after her former husband ran his family business into the ground. She was so good at what she did, she basked in her success and prosperity for years to come, and never had to work a day in her life again.

Surprisingly, she was the opposite of your family - she was warm-hearted and gentle unlike your parents and compassionate, accommodating and patient when it came to others. But she did play along with your materialistic family and took great pride in flaunting her assets like the giant diamond ring her boyfriend at the time gave her or her glamorous semi-bejeweled purse with precious rhinestones to silence your frivolous aunts. 

But her most prized possession that she marveled to everyone was her newly-bought 20 000 acre estate and her enormous and towering mansion that covered part of it outside Seoul in South Korea. It was a property her then-boyfriend suggested purchasing because in later years to come, it would cost a fortune. She called it her wonder of the world. 

And when you arrived that Summer, when the skies stretched wide with wisps of clouds and the air was thick with the golden warmth of the sun descending upon the flower petals and lakes in a shimmering dance of light, you were in absolute awe at what you saw. It was like a palace right out of a fairytale and for the rest of the holidays, you would spin around and elegantly twirl and dance in the foyer and halls and live your Disney princess dreams while your brother played the grand piano.

Your aunt joined you on several occasions, advising you to work hard and don’t solely depend on a man.

"And then you'll have your own palace like me." She giggled.

On the last day of your trip, while picking some flowers you wanted to take back home, you noticed a dug up part of the ground. Further peering into the bushes, there was an elderly squirrel laying there in a semi-conscious state, injured with its fur caked in blood. You immediately called your aunt, whispering reassuring thoughts to the squirrel. She assured you she would take care of him and not to worry.

And on the next summer trip with Axel, who once again schemed with your Great Aunt to tell your parents about an apprenticeship with a well-known firm, you met two new faces on the estate - Hongjoong and Yunho, children of some of the workers on the estate. 

Your Great Aunt also indicated about the elderly squirrel; he recovered well and there was also a baby squirrel and golden retriever she found when she went to investigate the other side of the bush. Unfortunately, the elderly squirrel passed a few months ago. 

You met the said animals later that day after Hongjoong and Yunho went home. They came out of nowhere while you were having dinner in the garden with your brother. But every time you tried to introduce your new human friends to your new animal friends, either one of the other could not be found.

Coincidence? 

You didn’t think anything of it because you had more important things to do - spy on your brother and the pretty girl he visited in the local town and teach Hongjoong and Yunho how to dance in the foyer like you did.

The next two summers followed with you becoming close friends with eight boys, the new additions going by the names of Seonghwa, Yeosang, San, Mingi, Wooyoung and Jongho. Correspondingly, much to your excitement, your aunt also adopted new little animals each year ranging from a rabbit, to a doberman, a capybara, two cats and a little bear. 

Your brother dramatically expressed that you were replacing him.

“As if,” you answered, rolling your eyes, “No one can replace your annoying self.”

“Excuuuuuse me, I am a delight,” he argued back, “I’m glad though, you won’t be alone when I head off to college.”

“I’ll miss you.” you expressed. The thought of not having your brother around as usual felt daunting and scary. He’s the only one you could relate to and talk to about anything. 

“Don’t worry,” he reassured, “No matter how far apart we are, when you need me I’ll be there.”

The golden retriever who decided to finally come out of hiding listened attentively to your conversation under the table.

Your aunt decided to host Thanksgiving that year. But deep down, you wish she didn't because maybe then, things wouldn't have fallen apart. Your family got into a large and heated disagreement when your parents found out about your brother’s girlfriend.

“Don’t tell me how to raise my child,” your Mother sneered, “I know what is best for him and you are out of place to even think about him and that girl.”

“He likes her,” your Great Aunt argued, “There’s nothing wrong with that. She’s well-educated too.”

“She is not one of us. We are high-society people. What would others think if they found out? You are out of your mind!” your Father bellowed.

“I know what is best for my son!” your Mother repeated.

“And yet he never comes to you.”

“You’re corrupting my children! You have all these animals running around and then you have my daughter hanging out with your employees’ children too!?”

“They are people too! Do you hear how you sound?” 

After a lot of yelling and shouting of spiteful words and profanities, your brother retaliated and stormed out with your Father behind him while your Mother dragged you out of the house to the car. From your blurry watery vision, you spotted your friends from afar, Wooyoung and San attempting to run to you but were held back by the others.

In the backseat of the car, you pressed against the back glass sobbing as the car drove off.

That was the last time you had seen your friends. 

[ameagrice]

Capsize

chapter twenty-nine | little talks

percy jackson x fem reader

“Help me,” you whispered, so lowly you worried it was too low for Travis to hear a thing you said. “I can’t stay here.”

The wind howled wherever he was outside of camp, and car horns blared in the background. Outside of your bedroom, your dad raged in the hallway, steadily making his way to your room. One by one, thick bangs indicated new holes in walls. Rachel was screaming, too, but not in anger—she was pleading with him to stop, as the baby screamed like he never had before.

That had set him off—Finney’s screaming in the night. Maybe it was a nightmare, or maybe he was in pain. Nothing changed. And you had no control over it.

“How far even is Sydney from here?” Travis asked desperately, exhaling slowly. “Like, a day’s flight?”

There was the issue of getting out. Getting here had been easy—your dad’s money; your dad asking for a do-over; your dad’s want. How was it possible to leave now, with ten dollars to your name, Finney in pain, and Rachel alone with him? How would you make it back to the States without his money? Which, he would without a doubt, notice missing.

“You’ve gotta help me,” you whispered helplessly into Rachel’s stolen phone, watching the sea from your bedroom window. It calmly lapped the shore.

Nothing but Travis, poor Travis, and his helpless breathing on the other end of the line.

“I’ll see you soon, Travis,” you uttered softly, taking the phone away from your ear, ending the call with a press of a button, before smashing it over, and over, against the corner of your drawer.

You’d find a way to pay Rachel back for breaking her phone.

As you threw things into a backpack—leggings, toothbrush, favourite plushie and iPod—you muttered aloud to whatever Gods you could think of.

Hermes, for safety, the patron of travellers.

Ares, for the strength your anger gave you, and bravery you needed, hands shaking.

And your mother, to save your life. To watch over you.

They were so into their arguing, nobody noticed you slip out of your bedroom and racing down the stairs, raincoat on, and sneakers messily laced. Every sense in your body screamed run! and your eyes drifted over a hole in the wall with no photograph to cover it just yet. Your bones physically ached to take Finney in your arms and hush him to sleep, to save his poor throat from the soreness that would come from all his terror.

Maybe Rachel would see sense.

Unbelievable to yourself, Ares was the god you prayed to, not stopping at the bottom of the stairs, heading straight for the front door.

Annabeth’s house was the exact image of happy, and well-lived in. A little kid’s winter coat lay on the floor, and the whole house smelled of cookies. The coffee table in the living room was stacked high with books of all kinds, from wars to fairy tales, the wood stained with what must have been years of being used.

Her dad, for all the bad that Annabeth had said about him, seemed lovely. He seemingly wasn’t fussed about the children’s clothes on the sofa, or the gaggle of random teens in his house…the kind of parent you wished for.

You sighed, eyeing the home. Annabeth didn’t know how good she had it.

Photographs lined up along the walls, and stood in pretty framed on the windowsill. You were sure, almost certain, that if you moved aside the frames on the walls, there would be no holes underneath them, plaster torn through from anger, covered up in odd places with different-sized frames.

Your fingers itched just to see.

There were Lego robots on the stairs, when you turned around to admire the house, and a cat stretched out in a patch of dying sunlight at the bottom of the staircase. Jazz music floated throughout from the kitchen.

You were so jealous, you could have strangled Annabeth for giving this up.

“Dad!” A little boy screamed. You jumped easily. “He’s taking apart my robots!”

“Bobby,” Mr. Chase called absently, “stop doing that.”

“I’m Bobby!” The boy protested. “He’s Matthew!”

“Matthew, don’t take apart your brother’s robots!”

“Okay!”

Annabeth’s dad turned to you, looking you over properly. He hadn’t so much as really looked at anyone since inviting you in. “Let’s go upstairs and talk in my study…”

You knew what it was the second that he paused.

“Are you…?” He blinked, wide-eyed. “Do you know my Annabeth?”

The eyes. Always the eyes.

“My

Annabeth”

And, Gods, would anyone talk about you like that? Earnestly, and wholeheartedly? Not as a possession to be moved around at will, as you’d experienced, but somebody who was wanted, and very clearly, loved. To belong to somebody with care.

Annabeth was due a lecture. You decided that firmly.

You shifted on your hip, hands in pockets. “She’s my sister.”

He ah’d silently, and then waved his hand briefly to you. “I figured. The—”

“Eyes?” You finished at the same time, and heat spread across your cheeks. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

“Frederick?”

Your gaze fell behind Annabeth’s dad, to a pretty Asian woman standing in the doorway of the kitchen. She was taller than you, shorter than Mr. Chase, and her hair—god, you would have died for hair like that—was glossy-looking and tinted red, and she held a pair of kids’ shoes in her hand.

“Who are our guests?” She asked.

“Oh, uh…this is…”

He stared at your group blankly.

“Frederick!” She chided. “You forgot to ask them their names?”

You introduced yourselves a little uneasily, but Mrs. Chase seemed nice. Especially when she offered cookies.

“Dear, they came about Annabeth.”

You weren’t sure what you expected from her reaction-wise, but a simple concerned look wasn’t enough for you. “Alright. Go on up to the study and I’ll bring you some food up.” She smiled. “Nice meeting you, Percy. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

It was as if the blood in your body halted, and a strange feeling overcame you. Without really meaning to, you were sure you pulled a face. Thalia, beside you, snickered quietly.

The ‘study’ wasn’t what you’d expected at all, certainly not for a grown man with children. Then again, perhaps he’d built this just for them. The thought made you feel warm inside, and oddly, spiteful; planes you recognised from history movies dangled on clear string from the ceiling, circling over a home-made demonstration of a fort, all cliffs and grass and the sense of death.

A war, Frederick Chase had built in his home.

You didn’t care much for whatever they talked about behind you; Zoe muttering something about enemy lines, Percy’s butting in, and Mr. Chase’s answering patiently. Instead, your interest piqued at a globe sitting on a tabletop to the side of the room, surrounded by well-loved books, slightly dusty and sitting askew atop of one another. You reached your hand out, and gently pushed the globe around, spinning it idly. Your eyes wandered.

A ratty, once-adored stuffed animal, now vaguely resembling an elephant, sat alone in a corner made by books, staring up at you. Was this Annabeth’s? Had she at one point abandoned this little guy in search of peace the way you had recently done to Finney?

It hurt so bad to think about, that it didn’t bear thinking about at all.

Either way, your heart clenched for your family.

The afternoon light was quickly changing, darkening, and you found the strength to speak up and bring to attention the problems that needed solving—ones that you were not at all prepared to take on any time soon alone. Your mind, for all people praised children of Athena, was not well-equipped for these situations. You weren’t smart enough, you felt.

And it was proving itself to be the case, too.

Just luck something in you persuaded. It’s all just bad luck.

You allowed Percy and Thalia to explain everything to Annabeth’s father, who, after paying great attention to even the side-tracking Percy inevitably talked, collapsed into an old armchair beside the desk you perched on the edge of. He laced his hands, looking worn and stressed.

“My poor brave Annabeth,” he said, quietly.

The cookie in your hand crunched and crumbled all over the desk, and pure bitterness scraped your insides.

“Sir,” Zoe brought you out of your thoughts. “We need transportation to Mount Tamalpais. And we need it immediately.”

He nodded. Mr. Chase blinked at his coffee table, absent in thought. “I’ll take you. Hmm…it would be faster to fly in my Camel. But it only seats two…”

Your mind snapped to attention. “Wait, you have an actual Sopwith Camel just chilling around?”

Mr. Chase nodded as though it was normal as anything. “Down at Chrissy Field. That’s the reason I moved here. My sponsor is a private collector with some of the world’s finest World War I relics in the world. He let me restore the Sopwith Camel—”

“Sir,” Thalia cut in, “a car would be just great. And it might be better if we went without you. It’s too dangerous.”

Mr. Chase visibly deflated in his armchair, frowning uncomfortably. “Now wait a minute, young lady. Annabeth is my daughter. Dangerous or not, I can’t just—”

“Snacks!” Mrs. Chase announced, bustling into the room with a tray of goods.

“I can drive, sir,” said Zoe. “I’m not as young as I look. I promise not to destroy your car.”

Mrs. Chase knit her eyebrows. “What’s this about?”

“Annabeth is in danger,” said Mr. Chase. “On Mount Tam. I would take them…but apparently it’s no place for mortals.”

To your surprise, Mrs. Chase nodded, not questioning it. Maybe she was used to this stuff by now. “They’d better get going then.”

“Right!” He jumped up, and started patting his pockets. “I…need to just get my keys…”

His wife sighed. “Honestly, Frederick, you’d lose your head if it wasn’t constantly in your hat.” Relatable. “They’re downstairs, on the peg by the door.”

“Right!”

Zoe grabbed a sandwich, and you stuffed a couple of cookies in your backpack, uncaring for the crumbs. “Thank you both. We should go. Now.”

Everyone headed for the stairs, Mr. Chase first—he walked quickly with urgency in his steps, and you wandered, would anyone ever act this way for you? Travis, maybe, at some point, if the time ever called for it. He’d shown that he cared. Or at least, you thought he did. Percy, too, who pulled you back-to-back with him earlier, protecting one another.

“Percy!” Mrs. Chase called. You waited at Mr. Chase’s side, at the front door, hands in your pockets. “Tell Annabeth…tell her, she still has a home here, will you? Remind her of that.”

For a second, you closed your eyes, and let yourself be lost in imagination. The sound of happy children playing, standing beside a father who cared, who was light with warmth and love. The feeling of pure safety in the home.

For a second, you let yourself feel this.

After the car blew up, and you spent a good few minutes with Percy picking car pieces out of your hair and skin, you had thought perhaps nothing else could go wrong.

But this was a quest you were supposed to be a part of, so of course something else did go wrong.

“Silence, fool!” Zoe hissed, pulling Percy and big mouth down behind a rock. “Do you want to wake Ladon?”

“You mean we’re here?” You asked. This was it? The road was shrouded with thick fog, ahead of you, the mountain was even darker.

“Very close,” she said. “Follow me.”

Fog drifted across the road, and shivers crawled up your back. Zoe stepped out into it and disappeared completely.

“Focus on her,” said Thalia. “The Mist is really strong here. Just step into the fog and focus on Zoe.”

Apprehension became you, but you did as she said. Zoe was nowhere to be seen at first, but the more you concentrated on finding her, the dog cleared, and the road became dirt, and the dirt lead to the mountain. And then there was Zoe and Thalia, and Percy just behind you.

Your breath was stolen pretty quickly. The grass was thicker, the sunset a bloody slash across the sky, hues of peach and amber colliding. The summit of the mountain was closer, now, swirling with dark clouds and power above. There was only one path right in front of you, leaden with beautiful flowers and trees, pink blossoms and bright purples you couldn’t name. It lead to a darker forest of shadows and flowers that glowed.

You weren’t sure how you knew, but…

“The garden of twilight,” you muttered. Zoe’s head snapped to you.

The grass shimmered with silvery, dewy light, the flowers such brilliant colours they flowed and lit the darkness around you. Black, polished marble steps danced around a five-storey tall golden apple tree, literal golden apples, glimmering and glowing amongst the rich green leaves.

“Hera’s apples of immortality,” Thalia said lowly. “A wedding gift from Zeus.”

You were tempted to step right up and grab one, except you found the danger quickly.

The dragon, curled around the tree. The dragon, bigger than you could have ever imagined one, and with more heads than it was possible to count. He appeared to be sleeping.

Something in the darkness caught your attention. The shadows began to move, an eerie singing beginning. You clutched your dagger harder.

Four figures appeared, girls in white greek chitons. They were beautiful, and, with a shiver, you noticed they resembled Zoe Nightshade. Or, rather, she resembled them.

“Sisters,” Zoe said with a small sigh.

“We do not see any sister,” one of the girls said coldly. “We see three half-bloods and a Hunter. All of whom will soon die.”

“Don’t worry about being pessimistic,” you muttered. Percy elbowed you, firmly.

“You’ve got it wrong,” he stepped forward. “Nobody is going to die.”

But…you had that feeling again. The one before Bianca. And you couldn’t tell if it was anxiety or foreshadowing. Whichever it was, it made you feel sick, nonetheless, and helpless.

“Perseus Jackson,” one of them said.

“Yes, I do not see how he is a threat.”

“Who said I’m a threat?”

The first girl glanced behind her, toward the top of the mountain. “They are unhappy that this one has not yet killed thee,” she pointed to Thalia. “They fear thee.”

“Tempting, sometimes,” Thalia said. “But no, thanks. He’s my friend.”

“There are no friends here, Daughter of Zeus. Only enemies. Turn back.”

“Not without Annabeth,” she moved forward.

“And Artemis. We must approach the mountain.”

“You know he will kill thee. You are no match for him.” One of the girls scoffed.

“Artemis must be freed. Let us pass.”

“You have no rights here anymore.” Harsh. “We have only to raise our voices and Ladon will wake.”

“He will not harm me,” Zoe shook her head gently.

“No? And what about thy so-called friends?”

Then, Zoe did the last thing you wished she would. She clapped her hands, and yelled. “Ladon! Wake!”

The dragon’s eyes snapped open instantly. He glittered like a mountain of coins, just as everything in your body shivered.

Your heart took cover.

Zoe’s sisters scattered. One of the girls was furious. “Are you mad?!”

“You never had any courage, sister. That is thy problem.”

You’d never seen Zoe so forward, and confident. Confidence outside of your comfort zone was different. But you knew to be confident and strong against your family was a different kind.

Ladon was awake, now, a hundred heads hissing and swirling. You wanted to back up, and leave this place. Zoe, standing ahead of you all, looked up at him with nothing but surety. Thalia had shifted, and Percy was still as anything beside you, the two of you looking with your heads tipped back.

Your lungs chose the awfully wrong time to deflate. Because in the light of the glowing flowers, and the danger on the breeze, Percy’s eyes were bright green, his tan skin aglowing, and his dark hair looked glossier than ever. The perfect edge to his nose, shining ever so slightly. His mouth was slightly agape in—shock? Confusion? Horror?

The most heavenly boy to exist.

“Let’s go,” you decided, the first to make a move.

“Ladon is trained to protect the tree,” Zoe said, moving forward toward the dragon. She raised her arms out to him as if she were welcoming a best friend home, not a killing machine. “Skirt around the edges of the garden. I am a bigger threat. Go up toward the mountain. As long as I’m here, he should ignore thee.”

“Should?” Percy snapped. “Not exactly reassuring.”

Your body turned cold. “No. Come on. Let’s all just run for it. Nobody gets left behind.”

Thalia looked at you and nodded. “Zoe. Let’s go.”

“It is the only way. Even the four of us together cannot fight him.”

Ladon opened his mouths. The sound of a hundred heads hissing at once sent a shiver down your back, and that was before his breath hit your nose. The smell was like acid. It made your eyes burn, your skin crawl, and your hair stand on end. Combine all that with spearmint, and you were good to remember it for life.

Thalia and Percy had already left your side, skirting around the edge of the garden as Zoe had told them to. But something didn’t feel right about that, to you.

You crept up beside Zoe. Very firmly, you said, “I’ll stay with you. We ain’t leaving anybody.”

She looked horrified, and it was such an un-Zoe-like expression that it instantly freaked you out. “No—go, now.”

“No! You don’t leave friends behind!” You fought, gripping your dagger for dear life. An awful, awful feeling had taken over your body.

She pressed her mouth together unhappily, but some other look drew over her face, and she nodded once, determinedly.

She walked toward the dragon, voice calm. “It’s me, Ladon. I’m home.”

As long as I’m here, he should ignore thee, she had said. You waited for her to get closer to him before you shifted into gear, too. The aim being to draw attention away from Thalia and Percy. When they were past, you’d try to make your way up the mountain, and hope that Zoe going last would mean the dragon would let you mostly pass before you had to fight for your lives.

The eldest of Zoe’s sisters’ voice flowed in the air as they left. “Fool.”

“I used to feed thee by hand,” Zoe continued in a soothing voice. “Do you remember?”

There were many words you could think of to describe Zoe Nightshade in that moment and what had come before, but only one came to mind, full force—Brave.

She kept talking, and the heads switched their attention between you and her. Trying to keep it all solely off of Zoe, you watched it carefully, walking backward up the mountain, unable to watch your footing. Zoe caught on to what you were doing, and began to move, too.

For whatever reason, the air shifted.

The dragon lunged.

Two thousand years of training kept Zoe alive. She jumped over one set of heads snarling and snapping at her and tumbled under another set, springing to her feet. You ran together, at pace, at the same footsteps, toward the others. Your heart pumped furiously, pushing you onward, getting ready.

Percy had drawn his sword, but Zoe panted. “No! Run!” She screamed.

Something tensed inside of you. You looked to Zoe at your side, and your eyes widened, horrified. “Move!” Your hand reached out…

Too slow.

The dragon snapped at her side, and she yelped, crying out. Her footing slipped, but you didn’t hesitate to snatch her by the arm, holding her up. She didn’t stop, despite the obvious pain she must have been in.

You ran up the mountain, Thalia and Percy not too far behind. The dragon hissed and stomped, but as Zoe had said, he was trained to protect the tree. So he moved no further, no longer persuing you.

A song was in the air. Of sadness, of death.

At the top of mountain were ruins, blocks of black granite and marble as big as houses. Broken columns. Statues of bronze that looked as though they’d been half melted.

“The ruins of Mount Othrys,” Thalia whispered in awe.

“Yes,” Zoe said. “It was not here before. This is bad.” You watched for any aspect of pain, heart pounding.

“What’s Mount Othrys?” Percy asked.

“The mountain fortress of the Titans,” Zoe said. “In the first war, Olympus and Othrys were the two rival capitals of the world. Othrys was—” She winced and held her side.

“You’re hurt,” you said. “Let me see.”

“No! I’m not. It’s fine. I was saying, in the first war, Othrys was blasted to pieces.”

“But…how is it here?”

Thalia looked around cautiously as you picked your way through rubble and dirt, blocks of marble and broken archways.

“It moves in the same way that Olympus moves, right?”

Thalia blinked. “Right. It always exists on the edges of civilisation. But the fact that it is here, on this mountain, is not good.”

“Why?”

“This is Altas’s mountain,” said Zoe. “This is where he holds—” she froze. Her voice was ragged with despair. “Where he held up the world.”

You had reached the summit. A few yards ahead, grey clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old girl with auburn hair and a tattered silvery dress: Artemis, her legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains.

Zoe gasped and rushed forward. “My lady!”

Artemis shook her head as best she could, shaking. “No! It is a trap! You must go now!” Her voice was strained, and she looked to be in so much pain, that your soul cried out to help. She was covered in sweat, and visibly struggling.

Zoe was crying. Despite what Artemis said, she ran forward and dropped to her knees before her, tugging at the chains.

A booming voice spoke from behind you. “Ah, how touching.”

Everyone turned. Zoe sniffled, shifting on her knee to look as well. There the General stood in a brown suit. At his side was Luke Castellan, worn and weary-faced, alongside over a good hundred dracaenae bearing a golden sarcophagus. You didn’t need anyone to explain. You knew who that was for.

A head of dirty hair caught your eye. She was small next to Luke and the monsters, with a gag in her mouth and her hands bound. Luke held the tip of a knife against her throat. Her eyes were wide with pleading, and glassy. Annabeth. Your sister.

She met your gaze. And sent you only one message.

RUN!

“Luke,” Thalia snarled. “Let her go.”

Luke’s smile was weak, so weak, and pale. “That is the General’s decision, Thalia. But it’s good to see you again.”

Thalia spat at him.

Observant, as you always were, you paid attention to many things all at once; Percy’s awestruck eyes on your sister; Thalia’s pure disgust; Annabeth’s pain; Zoe Nightshade falling to rest from her knees; Artemis’s silver eyes drifting between every member present.

The General chuckled. “So much for old friends. And you, Zoe. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you.”

“Do not respond,” Artemis groaned. “Do not challenge him, Zoe.”

It clicked instantly.

“Wait a second.” As it did for Percy, too. “You’re Atlas?”

The General’s eyes laid lazily on him. “So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the General of the Titans and the terror of the Gods. Congratulations.” He drawled. “I will kill you presently, as soon as I have dealt with this wretched girl.”

“You’re not going to hurt Zoe,” said Percy. “I won’t let you.”

“You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter.”

“A family matter?”

“Yes,” Zoe said bleakly. “Atlas is my father.”

Pain. That’s all it is.

Y/N understands girls watching out for girls, and friends looking after friends. Nobody gets left behind.

songs I listened to writing this chapter:

— little talks, of mice and men

— riptide, vax

— dog days are over, Florence

all on the capsize playlist! :)

Taglist: @bl6o6dy @embersparklz @lilyevanswhore @rottenstyx @rory-cakes @i-am-scared-and-useless-bisexual @marshmallow12435 @lantsovheiress @distinguishedmakerpandapatrol @twsssmlmaa @gayandfairycore @padsfirewhisky @emu281 @charlesswife @jessiegerl @crackerphobic20 @jessiegerl @mata0-0mata @jccc1000 @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @nothankyou138 @i-love-books-and-the-bible

[jamiewintons]

I haven’t been able to get this ask out of my head, and I’m kind of obsessed with the whole idea, so I decided to write a little bit for it! I’m terrible with writing multi-chapter fics, so I’ll probably just keep writing snippets and one shots from this universe. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

~

You were just about to escape down into the manhole when you heard someone behind you say your name. Fear spread throughout your whole body, freezing you in place. Damn it! You’d been caught, and that meant that the entire plan was probably ruined. Why had you not run faster?

A hand grabbed onto your shoulder, and you felt yourself being spun around. Your eyes widened when you saw who had caught you - it wasn’t a police officer as you had expected, but rather Mr. Fickelgruber. You felt relieved for a moment, but your heart rate quickly spiked again. Oh, this was even worse than being caught by the police! Not only was Fickelgruber a member of the Chocolate Cartel - and therefore an enemy - but you’d noticed the way he looked at you… not like he wanted to destroy you, but almost like he wanted something else. Something sinister.

“There you are, my dear,” Fickelgruber said with a sly smile. He withdrew his hand from your shoulder, studying your facial expression. “No need to look so anxious, darling. I am not going to harm you.”

“M-Mr. Fickelgruber… what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice annoyingly shaky. You wanted to sound tougher than that, but you couldn’t pretend you weren’t terrified, regardless of his assurances that he wouldn’t hurt you.

“I came to talk to you,” he told you, stepping a little closer to you. You were forced to step back, leaving you pressed up against the hard, brick wal of the alleyway. “About that debt of yours. You owe quite a large sum to Mrs. Scrubbit, don’t you? Such a large sum that I’m sure you’ll never be able to find the money to pay her what she is due.”

Of course you knew that. You didn’t need to be reminded. You’d been in the service of Mrs. Scrubbit since you were a young girl - even younger than Noodle was now. When you were born, your family was quite well off. You were loved, cared for, you always had food to eat and a nice bed to sleep in. But then one day, you were told that your parents had died. No one ever told you exactly what had happened to them, just that they were gone and they were never coming back. You were supposed to go into the care of some relatives, who would also take care of your inheritance until you came of age… but rather than care for you, they stole your inheritance and dumped you with Mrs. Scrubbit, who you were told was your ‘new guardian’. You were forced to sign a contract… and then put to work in the laundry. You’d long given up hope of ever escaping.

You were silent for a long moment, before the quiet was broken by Mr. Fickelgruber’s voice once again. “Oh, have I struck a nerve, my dear? I do apologise. I didn’t mean to upset you, I simply wanted to ensure that we were on the same page.” You weren’t sure whether you believed him when he said that he didn’t intend to hurt your feelings.

“What about my debt?” you asked, averting your eyes from his face. The way he stared at you was making you nervous. “I already know I’m going to spend the rest of my life in that laundry. I gave up believing I’d find a way out years ago.”

Fickelgruber tutted. “Oh, but what if I told you there was a way for you to get out? And not just you, but all of your friends as well.” Your gaze met his again, and your eyes went wide. “I see that I’ve caught your attention now,” he said with a smirk, sounding utterly pleased with himself.

“Really? All of us could get out?” For the first time in a long time, you felt hope for the future. It was a strange sensation that you almost didn’t recognise, and for a moment, it was as if all of your troubles had melted away. But a great deal of your hope was replaced with dread when you heard Fickelgruber speak again.

“On one condition.” Ah, you should have known. There was no way he was going to offer you a way out without expecting anything in return. He was a businessman after all, and that meant he would want to make a deal.

“I don’t have anything you would want.” You felt your heart drop. Salvation had been so close, only to be ripped away from you mere moments later.

“On the contrary, my dear. You have something that I would like very much.” Fickelgruber’s hand came up to gently brush against your cheek, and your breath hitched in your throat. Where was he going with this? "You see, I have found myself feeling rather… lonely, as of late. But I’m sure you understand that a man in my position cannot look just anywhere for companionship.

You didn’t know what to say. You’d had absolutely no idea what Fickelgruber was going to say, and never would you have guessed he was going to seriously suggest you marry him in exchange for your freedom and that of your friends. Momentarily speechless, you stared at Fickelgruber blankly, like you were waiting for him to laugh or tell you he was joking. But he simply stared back, and after about a minute, it finally sunk in that he was serious.

"W-what?" you stammered, completely lost for words.

"You heard me, darling," Fickelgruber said with a smirk, not seeming at all deterred by your baffled reaction. "I want you to be my wife. All of your debts will be payed, and you will live in luxury for the rest of your days. Doesn’t that sound nice?" His hand cupped your cheek, keeping you from looking away from him. Your face grew warm, and you felt a little bit light headed.

"Why would you want to marry me? I’m no one special, I just work in a laundry…"

"Oh, but we both know that isn’t who you always were, don’t we?” Your eyes widened in shock. How could he possibly know…? "I know where you came from, dear. The poor little orphan girl, losing her parents, and then having her inheritance ripped from her by her cruel family. You aren’t like your friends. You’re special. You deserve better than to be slaving away in some filthy laundry. You deserve to wear fine clothes, eat good food…" Fickelgruber’s voice trailed off, but he continued to stare right into your eyes. "You deserve to be cared for, and I can give you that."

What were you to do? You hated working for Mrs. Scrubbit. You were always tired and sore, and dirty… the promise of nice food and new clothes, not to mention a warm bath and a comfortable bed to sleep in… well, it was tempting. When you were a little girl, before you’d given up hope of escaping, you always dreamed of a handsome prince swooping in to save you - just like in the stories your parents read to you before they passed. Mr. Fickelgruber wasn’t exactly a prince - though you had to admit he was handsome - but he was offering you a way out. And not just for you, but for your friends as well…

“So if I say yes, all of the others will be free. You promise?” you asked cautiously, your eyes trained on his face - not that he was giving you much choice to do otherwise - trying to determine whether he was telling you the truth or not.

“Of course, my dear. Simply say the word, and I will send the money straight to Mrs. Scrubbit.” Though you couldn’t be completely sure, it seemed to you that Fickelgruber was telling the truth. Did he really care for you that much that he would pay such exorbitant fees, just to take you as his wife? The thought of someone desiring you so much… it made your stomach flutter. He truly was offering you a good deal…

"Yes, Mr. Fickelgruber. I… I will marry you."

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Please do yandere!delinquent with deaf!reader who's not so bothered by her condition and actually enjoys her alone time. She's also always up to something extrovert-activity like volunteering in orphanages and old age homes. Helping at exhibitions, something that always includes social interaction. She's people's person but not people pleaser (lmao). Yan delinquent works in 7/11 as well so add a cute interaction b/w them please

-🌼

Yandere! Male! Delinquent x Volunteer! Classmate! Fem! Reader

Welcome to the 2nd set of Lizzaneia's 16 yandere OCs! Your support has been so gracious, and I'm utterly surprised by how far we've come. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

Let's start this off with 🌼 anons' request, one of my consistent supporters throughout the months (´；ω；｀)

I kind of struggled how to show the yan side, so forgive me.

Yan! Delinquent name: Liam

Liam has been sent to the guidance office again.

He sighed, leaning back to his chair and started to blow raspberries on his lips. Boredom soothing his brain as he tried to think of anything other than the fact that he'll be late to his job again. His manager will probably scold him again, and he has no choice but to swallow back insults he wishes to throw.

After all, it was his fault in the first place.

Who in their right mind brings cigarettes to Uni? He seriously just wants a stress reliever from being sandwiched between midterms and his job. But once he got to a quiet and remote place to smoke, who knew a professor would also be smoking there?

"Bitch." Liam whispered under his breath, remembering how the professor started pointing fingers that he shouldn't smoke, that it's bad for your health, that it violates school rules, bla bla bla he speaks so much for a person who also smokes.

Although, he's not gonna land in this office if he just shut up. But Liam's temper got to him, and he blurted:

"stop talking, tar bags for lungs. Why are you still alive, smoking a pack and looking like a skeleton about to steal my skin?"

Let's just say that the professor blew his top and dragged his ass here, by the ear and all.

Liam buried his face on the desk, contemplating about his life.

He's always been the troublemaker. His mouth, nonstop, started fights more than stop them. That meant that there's a high percent chance that he'll be in a physical altercation with a person he's talking with.

This made Liam quite the delinquent also. Since he can't really connect with people that well, he decided to double down and be a public enemy.

He also didn't grow up with parents. He's only living by himself in a small apartment with the money that his parents left him, and works part time in a 7/11 with an understandably pissed manager.

Liam sighed.

"I'm just gonna go to sleep..."

But, when Liam was about to go to sleep, the classroom door opened and his head snapped up.

And his eyebrow quirked up.

There you are. In the school uniform, bringing a stack of papers (probably midterm exams) to the professor who was facilitating detention.

But what caught his eyes were a small, almost a Bluetooth earphone looking mechanic attached to your left ear.

"ah, y/n. Thank you for delivering the papers." The professor signed while talking to you.

Filled with curiosity, Liam looked up to you and saw you smile. Your dainty fingers started signing back, but you were also mouthing the sentence you wish to say. Subtle muted syllables of the words sometimes coming out of your mouth.

"no problem, sir. I'm glad to be of help." You ended the conversation with a polite smile before you straightened up. Your eyes looked to him, and blinked in surprise.

In an almost shy gesture, you gave a small wave to him with a cute tilt on your head. Your smile, small yet comforting, refried Liam's brain.

A slow blink, and a sharp inhale of breath made Liam wave back.

He swore he saw pink roses around you.

"what the fuck, why are you so beautiful?"

The professor coughed loudly, choking on his own saliva.

Meanwhile, you only tilted your head. You're still not that good with lipreading, and Liam's expression didn't help either.

So, you thought he just said hi or something.

Getting awkward, you bowed before shuffling outside.

Liam felt frozen in his seat, but also heated up.

You're so fucking cute in his eyes.

He wants to see you more now.

Which class are you in?

God, he hopes you were on the same class. He does not remember the faces of his classmates anyways so there's a high chance you were with him.

And as Liam daydreamed about you, the professor only looked at Liam with the outmost dumbfounded face.

"So you're here."

"?"

You looked up and saw a familiar, frowning face.

With a wave, you smiled at him.

"Hi Liam." You signed out, your voice also sounding out his name.

Liam almost doubled over from the adorableness.

He can't believe he heard his name come out of your lips. Your lips!

On the outside, Liam frowned deeply and scratched his head.

"Hi." He replied back flatly. Absolutely not betraying his own mind.

You knew he just said hi, so you chuckled and took out your phone. With a quick type, you showed him the message you wish to convey.

"Why are you here in the orphanage?"

Liam flinched, not knowing what to reply.

What? Should he freak you out by saying he followed you here?

You were his classmate after all. So why is Liam here also?

It's just that, Liam wants to spend time with you more. Get to know you more.

Liam gulped, and grabbed his phone to type his reply and showed it to you.

"ah... Decided to volunteer too."

You smiled brightly, and Liam swore once more he was blinded momentarily.

Is this what heaven looks like?

You guided him inside the orphanage. And immediately, children looked up to Liam and he jumped from the sudden attention being placed to him.

One child hid behind the other, one looked away, one tilted their head. But one bravely went up to Liam and you, clumsily signing while saying the word.

"friend?" The child asked, a hopeful face sat on his visage. Liam nodded with a small, twitchy smile. It's been a while since he did.

As if on cue, the children grinned, ran up to Liam, and started pulling him to play with them.

A small giggle came out of your lips as you watched Liam getting dragged by the children, watching them with a warm-hearted chest.

All throughout the day, Liam got to know you better.

Despite being deaf, you didn't let it hinder your spirit. You love to volunteer left and right in different organizations, wanting to help the community.

Are you making Liam fall harder for you? He's almost like a melted puddle just watching you from afar.

Although, jealousy burns within him as he tried to ignore the way you gave attention to other people. Especially men.

You appreciated how the school delinquent is apparently just a big softie (it's because of you). He's actually nice and friendly, also generous and playful (once again, it's because of you). You didn't understand why people don't like him.

He's misunderstood.

You also misunderstood his intentions because of it.

Whenever Liam had the chance, he would get close to you. Asking you to teach him sign language, what's not to do when talking with a deaf person, etc.

He wishes to know more about his future wife, after all.

He, as wrong as it sounds, thank the gods sometimes for your deafness.

You won't be offended by the shit he spew out from his mouth by how loose it is.

You won't be hurt.

You won't accidentally take what he said the wrong way.

And because of it, Liam has a strong, strong desire to protect you.

He can't let the others' voices reach your vision.

He just can't.

The bell rang from having the doors open.

"Welcome to 7/11... Y/N." Liam paused, seeing you in the wild. And inside the store he's doing his part time in.

His lips twitched. What luck.

You jumped in surprise when you finally saw Liam.

"Liam!" You said as much as your voice could. And it was enough to make Liam shiver once more.

"Can I help you, Y/N?" Liam signed out while mouthing, a relaxed look on his face.

Liam's a fast learner, immediately learning how to sign. You were thoroughly amazed, showering him with praises. Liam was also sure it was his deathbed at that time, his heart pounding through his chest as warmness and desire course through him while you praised him.

All you need to do is call him good boy really.

"oh nothing." You shook your head. Your hands gently signing out words, a sign of fatigue. "I just want a pick me up."

Liam grinned, going out from his counter as he got to you and held your hand gently. He gave a head tilt and a boyish smile.

And that made your heart flutter.

This didn't go unnoticed by Liam.

"Come on, I have recommendations." Liam guided you to the corner isle, where refreshments and microwavable foods are.

With your choice of meal done, he microwaved it, payed for the food (much to your dismay, you want to pay it for yourself but Liam insisted on paying), and let you eat on the tables area on another corner.

When Liam is about to return to the counter, his manager appeared with a smirk on his face.

Here we go again.

"hah. Didn't know a troublemaker like you would get a girlfriend." The manager said, looking at you eat.

Liam didn't refute his allegation.

"So what? I love her, and she loves me." Liam huffed, suddenly getting protective. He doesn't like how his manager leered at you.

"hey! Little lady! Your boyfriend here is a fucking lazy bum!" The manager yelled, but you didn't react, only continued to look down and eat, lost in your own world. "Huh? Excuse me!"

Didn't help also that you were far from them.

"what the fuck?"

"she's deaf, you sackbag of useless meat."

The manager's eye twitched, hearing another insult pouring out of Liam's mouth.

"deaf you say? Well, at least she can't hear the colorful shit coming out of your mouth." The manager taunted, before his eyes glinted in cruelty. "Don't deaf people have weird voices? Like nasally sounding or something?"

Liam's smirking face slowly twitched to a frown, and a face filled with anger.

"so, if the both of you fuck, won't you get disgusted by how... Fucking weird she will sound?" The manager laughed loudly. "Agh~ Ahn!"

The manager moaned out, exaggeratedly mimicking a stereotyped and insulting voice.

Liam felt like boiling hot water courses through his veins as he grabbed the manager and pushed him violently to the staff room.

He was seeing red.

His eyes wide with anger as he started to beat the shit out of the manager.

Anger rose through him like a bursted pipe, spewing out thick, unbridled rage.

Blood pumping through his fast beating heart, his mind numbed out what he's doing.

The manager can't just insult you like that.

He's a piece of shit.

You're a lovely person.

You don't deserve to be insulted like that.

He deserves to...

Liam dazedly backed away, blood dripping from his fist as he watched the manager twitch and lay on the floor.

Crimson blood pooled from his mouth, gargling just one step away from death. His eyes, shot wide with fear, looked at him with a shaky consciousness.

Liam numbly went to the comfort room to wash away the blood, change uniform, and apply perfume to remove the ironic smell after dragging the manager to the furthest corner of the staff room.

He went outside the room, and saw you just scroll your phone with a smile.

He approached you gently, his rage subsiding.

"Liam!" You said.

The manager was lying, your voice is as sweet as the morning dewdrop dropping down to the ground.

"Hey, you finished?"

You nodded with a gentle smile once more.

"Yes. Then, I'll get going! I just waited for you to come back. It's kind of rude to suddenly just... Disappear." You signed out, now enthusiastically as you already replenished your energy.

Liam's face contorted to a sheepish smile. He wants to spend time with you more.

Maybe...

Liam huffed and grabbed your hand softly.

Gently mimicking the sign to the word date, before releasing.

"I've always liked you, Y/N. Your spirit, your kindness, goodness, and just... You." Liam slowly signed out, confessing to you. Your eyes were wide, a blush settling on your cheeks. "I've always admired you, and... I want to ask you out on a date. My treat, don't worry."

You gasped, tears settling your eyes before nodding with a big grin.

Liam's sheepish smile turned to a grin as he grabbed your waist and spun you around, both of your laughters filling the air.

Liam settled you down, helping you fix your clothes.

"Wednesday?" He asked once more, and you agreed before waving goodbye to Liam.

With you gone, Liam screamed.

"YES!" He jumped around, danced, and wriggled from the butterflies going haywire in his stomach.

When he settled down, he went back to the staffroom and saw that the manager finally died. Even if he was Liam's first kill, he didn't feel bad, just a coldhearted 'good riddance.'

Now, how to get rid of this fucker?

Meh. Liam somehow knew he would be alright.

Nobody insults you.

And if somebody does again,

He would gladly put them down.

[icycoldninja]

Can you write a reader with the DMC boys who’s mostly very chill but she actually have repressed anger issues built up due to past traumas of not being able to express her emotions properly without being “lectured” and overall, she’s been neglected almost her entire life without her actually realizing it. She thought that her parents giving her money to spend is enough love but throughout the process of loving the boys, she found out that love can be more than that and her parents may not have properly loved her the way she thought. It’s only when she’s in a relationship with them does she realize how neglected she was,

as early in the relationship, she’s pretty withdrawal from affection, flinching when they gave her physical affection, finding herself hard to set boundaries and voice out her thoughts and refusing to let them do things for her as she believes that if she let them do it, they’ll find her bothersome. On top of that, she kinda has a mindset of not being too attached to them as she thinks that if they ever cheat on her or broke her heart, she wouldn’t be too heartbroken abt it. Now with the relationship progressing, she’s starting to become better but it’s still there somehow

They found out when they saw the reader, who was very fearful of demons (think of her fearfulness similar to that of Kobeni in Chainsaw man) but can get extremely violent moments later when the demon she was avoiding suddenly got beaten into a bloody pulp with her baseball bat

Basically going from “I’m sorry mother, I have failed you as your daughter and you have failed me as my mother. I hope you’ll never forgive me” to “Fucking die! You shitheads, no one shall ever leave this room alive!!”

P/S: Her parents are not abusive, it’s just that her father was barely available throughout her childhood and her mother do not know how to love her properly and is not aware that the reason her daughter barely wants to keep contact with her is due to her past trauma

OK, got it! Here ya go and enioy!

Sparda boys + V x Reader with repressed anger issues headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante found you to be a pleasant challenge. You were uptight, physically and emotionally distant, cold, mean, and extremely reluctant to open your heart to anyone.

-He didn't mind though; Dante was certain that with time, he'd manage to worm his way into your heart and get you to accept your relationship for what it was: true love.

-Upon learning of how you were forced to bottle up your emotions, Dante was outraged. Not at you, at your parents. Why would they deny your the right to express yourself fully? No wonder you were like this. From that point on, Dante made sure to encourage you to say what was on your mind, regardless of whether it was positive or not.

-Dante is always showering you with attention and kind words, making sure you're doing alright every other hour. It really made you think about how you were raised, and how your childhood seemed so deprived of love compared to now.

-You started opening up more to Dante, as a result, sharing your true thoughts and allowing yourself to feel more emotions.

-When Dante took you with him on a mission for the first time, he was shocked to see how you reacted to seeing a real life demon. At first you were crying, laughing, mumbling to yourself like an insane person, the next, you'd pulled out a baseball bat and bashed the thing into a bloody pulp.

-Dante's respect for you rocketed into the stars after that incident, but he makes sure to keep you away from demons unless it's absolutely necessary.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil didn't mind your physical and emotional distance, as well as your stubbornness to remain independent. He reasoned all this stemmed from trauma, and as someone with these exact same issues, he understood.

-He would never pressure you into revealing things about yourself; all would come in due time. He would simply sit there and read quietly. If you wanted to talk, he would listen. If not, then he would mind his own business.

-He was still very protective of you when you were in public, as prying eyes and gawking strangers never did sit right with him.

-At some point you chose to tell him about how you'd always been told to disguise your emotions and keep them bottled up inside. Vergil found it odd that your own parents would tell you to do this, but since he himself did the very same thing, he didn't say much about it.

-He does want you to know you can express yourself however you feel around him--within reason, of course.

-He was understandably surprised when he witnessed the way you freaked out over demons. First you're cowering, crying and muttering gibberish to yourself, the next, you're screaming and terrifyingly violent as you bash the demon's skull in.

-Vergil realized that if you could actively control this reaction, you'd do very well in battle. Still, he should keep you away from any and all hellish threats from now on.

□ Nero □

-Nero found you rather difficult to get along with since you rejected any and all help from him and was always cold and mean.

-Still, he loved you and tried his best to keep you happy. Since you preferred to do everything yourself, he'd let you do everything yourself.

-He attempted to initiate conversation with you at every chance he got, even if you rudely brushed him off. As long as he kept trying, he was sure you'd let him in eventually.

-Your reluctance to get attached to him was more than obvious; it made Nero sad to think you believed he'd so much as consider abandoning you. He made sure to tell you that he loves you and that he'll stay with you forever, every single day.

-Thanks to his constant reminders, you've let yourself relax around him, and even though you're still somewhat tense, you don't flinch when he hugs you and don't reject him when he tries to kiss you.

-Watching you freak out over demons was no pleasant experience either. He'd never seen someone have such a complete mood switch in such a short amount of time. One moment you look like you're on the verge of a breakdown and the next, you're violent enough to become a demon yourself.

-Your anger issues are scary, but not nearly as bad as Nero's, so the plus side is you two can lash out at the world together.

● V ●

-V (being part of Vergil) understands that trauma makes one extremely distant, both physically and emotionally, so he tries to not let that get to him.

-He wants you to understand that he will never leave you, cheat on you, or hurt you in anyway. He loves you and only you, and it's gonna be that way forever.

-Even though you're audibly against it, V will come up and hold you whenever he feels like it, burying his face into your shoulder, pressing kisses to your neck, wrapping his lanky arms around your waist, the lot.

-You might groan and complain, but eventually you get used to it, and then you just kinda melt into his touch. This is good. It means his plan to coax you out of your shell is working.

-He does let you do what you want on your own, but makes sure to remind you that you are not a burden, especially when he can barely walk around on his own two feet.

-When you guys went on a mission together and he got to see you having what looked like a full on breakdown because of one demon, V grew very worried. Had a hidden phobia just been triggered?

-Then he saw you whack the sorry creature with a baseball bat you apparently conjured into existence and was reassured that all this was just a productive of your supressed anger issues--which was fine. He could work with that.

[starhrtz]

— 001. ACTING FANTASY

CHAPTER PREMISE — you didn’t expect to be dragged into a mess when you made friends with a certain red headed girl, a simple interview day somehow turned to a chaotic mess.

SERIES PREMISE — after a mysterious death, you find yourself being reborn as an actor's daughter. everything seems to be smooth-sailing in this life before you came across a strange star eyed boy during your junior year in high school. this strange yet fortune encounter leads to a spiral of love yet grief.

CONTAINS — 1.1k+ word count uhh nothinh else i think

A/N — oh em gee first chapter is finally released !!! AND YES I DID MAKE A LOT OF PJSK REFERENCES :')

series masterlist | next

"grades aren't everything-"

Your parents' voice was zoned out as your eyes stared at your report book, your smile faltered as you noticed your grades have been going down and down. What was the point in trying if your grades would always stay so low no matter how much you tried? You were always convinced that you are just like your brother, smart and the best at everything so why does this sheet of paper differ from what you heard throughout your life? Why were you third in your class, you have always been at the top so why are you dropping all of a sudden? You still remembered clearly, the two classmates snickering and smirking at you proudly showing off their grades. They…don't deserve it, your teeth were gritted as you walked home.

Why was it them who were at the top? None of their work was as good as yours, their grammar and sentence structure needed work… right? Oh, how you hated their grins, you could tell by their faces that they knew you hated losing especially coming in third place but they also knew that you suspected them of using their parent's money to bribe the school. What kind of school is this? Letting people bribe the school staff just so they could be at the top? What a bunch of spoiled-

"Hinomori, are you alright?"

A voice snapped you out of your train of thought, you took a deep breath before looking over to your new friend and potential classmate. (name) hinomori was the new identity you yield after the incident, that grin that they had on their face… It reminded you of your classmates. You haven't told anyone about your reincarnation, your family not your group mates after all they'll most likely call you crazy or just laugh it off thinking it was a joke. Reincarnation… was a silly thing if you had to be honest, perhaps the fate you suffered from really was a cruel one? You plastered on a reassuring smile and looked at the red-haired girl.

"Mhm just slightly nervous about the interview that's all, but you do know you could call me by my first name.. Kana."

"Y-yeah, I know I'm just not used to it that's all! I am a big fan of your work too…"

Kana exclaimed while whispering the last part which you slightly laughed at before Kana was called to the interview room. Yota high school was one of the few schools which had a performing arts program, though it was only eligible to people affiliated with a company it did make you feel grateful you and your friends were scouted not long ago by SEKAI productions due to their recent project wanting groups with different personalities to make a debut under their name yet the company was far from sketchy. All the staff and idols were always welcoming to new debuts, even going as far as a small party.

You looked out the window as you waited your turn, it disappointed you that none of the other members of A✩𝖱𝖠 came to this school so sadly you were alone in this school… You sighed before hearing your name being called out by one of the interviewers, Kana gave you a confident smile and a thumbs up wishing you good luck. You smiled and gave her a quick wink as you walked into the performing arts room, you shouldn't show any signs of fear or hesitation that was one of the things your parents taught you whenever they made you go for auditions.

"I'm (name) Hinomori, affiliated with SEKAI Productions."

. . . . . . . . . . . .

As you walked out of the interview room, you breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps you should ask Airi to make the choreography a little easier later, though you knew you most likely aced the interview judging by the interviewer's faces alone. You sighed as you walked the empty hallways,though you were rather happy about being born into such a successful life it still sort of upsets you when you had to attend high school again after all your senior year was where your grades started going downhill…

“WHAT THE HECK!!?!”

Kana’s shrieking could be heard from further down the hall way. Yet when you reached there you saw Kana along with two other people who you don’t reconsider, but judging by Kana’s face they might be her friends..?

“I’LL BULLY YOU, I REALLY WIL-“

“Kana, there you are!”

You exclaimed walking up to the trio, while the blonde boy seemed to be confused on who you are yet the girl who you assumed to be his sister seems to be starstrucked? Their eyes… were pretty. That was the first thing that came to your mind as you got a better view of how they look, you snapped out of your thoughts before looking back at Kana.

“I didn’t want to be the crying girl’s junior but if it means that Hinomori could be my senior, I’ll gladly endure her whining!”

“Hey I got ears, ya’know!”

You muffled a giggle as you watched the two argue, was the brother too used to this type of situation? It looked like the two weren’t going to stop arguing anytime soon, you sighed and looked at the blonde boy who seemed rather deep in thought.

“Wait, have you worked with Gotanda Taishi before? I think I saw you once in his films…”

You looked up with them and nervously smiled, even when your parents were actors somehow… it didn’t suit right you or perhaps it made you slightly cringed whenever you watched clips of yourself acting though it was most likely the latter if you had to be honest, yet even when you told your parents about your decision to quit acting they weren’t upset. Sure, in their eyes there was disappointment but it held approval as well perhaps because you made your own choice of career paths at a young age?

“I haven’t heard that name in a while… but yeah I did. Why’d you ask?”

He shrugged his shoulders, after all what was he meant to say? That the director, his boss, used one of your quotes that you had said on tv once to try and motivate him? Of course not, scaring you wasn’t his goal and he was pretty sure Ruby might kill him if he tries and scare you away from them.

“Well, see ya, I’m heading over to the director’s place.”

Somehow, you felt it was directed to you yet it caught Kana’s attention, immediately breaking away from her and Ruby’s petty fight though could it really be considered a fight? “Wait where do you think your going!” Kana shouted running after Aqua, taking your hand and following him. Oh god, what have you dragged yourself into now?

please do reblog or comment if you like this!! It rlly makes me motivated to see positive comments or reblogs w tags!!

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[insidemyrottenbrain]

Years later - TSH

Henry Marchbanks Winter x GN!Reader

Word count: 1666

TW: religious imagery

Out of guilt and dread you end up leaving Vermont and building a new life. Just as you thought you escaped your past, you once again find yourself in its grasp.

The past haunts me. It has been years—so many I cannot begin to count, and if I’m being completely honest, I was not counting to begin with. Everything I have done was to escape that wretched part of my life in which my naivety and perhaps self-consuming passion, managed to control me. I wanted—want—to forget it all. 

The first time I stepped foot into what would soon come to be one of the few select places in my nightmares was very awe-inducing. The university was large, larger than I’d imagined. The stone walls had arched indents that made it look as if it belonged in one of the novels I read as a teenager and that my family wholeheartedly despised. The hallways were a contorted maze of watchful ancient statues following every movement with their eyes, priceless antiques donated by rich parents and students with more money in their pockets than I could ever dream of having. A multitude of departments found their home in that twisted place, such as theater, arts, modern literature, architecture, history, music, philosophy, and more. I believe you can imagine my excitement when faced with the exact kind of university I dreamed of studying at, especially when I had little to no hope of ever getting anywhere close to it, much less belonging.

One thing, as you know, led to another, and I ended up as one of the infamous Greek pupils. I’m quite sure everyone thought we were some kind of cult, which, if you think about it, isn’t entirely wrong.

The first few years were everything I had ever hoped for. I felt that I had found my place and, most certainly, my kind. We used to do everything together. Being with them was the only time I truly felt alive. It doesn’t matter whether we went to the comforting country house engulfed in trees safely from the outside world, had delicious dinners debating the most obscure topics, or simply studied in the library, sleep-deprived and on immense amounts of caffeine, I always felt as if I was doing something more than just existing.

Where did it all go wrong? I wouldn’t be able to tell you. I do not want to categorize Richard’s arrival as the initiator factor, for it was not his fault. Nor is it correct to say that the Bacchanal was the beginning of it all. It wouldn’t be Henry’s doing either, at least not the start of it. I have speculated on this over the years, and I have come to only one conclusion that seems right. My theory as to what the answer is and my attempt to pinpoint the exact place on the timeline are not as precise as I hoped they would be. It was not a single event that gave birth to our ruin, but rather multiple little moments, that are rather large in the big scheme. I also like to believe that Julian had as much of a role in all of this as the rest of us. Perhaps, even a considerably more sizeable one.

Everything that happened—I wish to leave behind. However, I recently came to realise, that, to my misery, it incorporated and formed my very being. My views, my ideas, my tastes, and my activities are all, to a certain extent, if not fully influenced and ruled over by it. I am my past.

My great, futile attempts to escape the life I once had, led me to London, a perfect setting for someone who wished to hide. A bustling place, where I had the chance to not be me, but a mere shadow lurking throughout the crowded streets, observing every passerby, while trying to guess their life stories, deepest desires, and strongest fears. I was no one, and I adored it. However, my presence became known among museum guides and librarians for its consistency. I have also earned a reputation among university students for being one of the few odd professors. This is probably due to the fact that I am very selective with my pupils, and I teach a couple that are quite brilliant in my office. I often have open discussions with them, for I consider it helps them engage with the topic better and understand the meaning and philosophy behind it in such a way that encourages them to analyze, observe, and critique. One such day, we were talking about the loss of self, Plato’s four divine madnesses:

‘Death is the mother of beauty,’ said Felix, one of my students.

I nodded in approval as I propped myself up on the desk.

‘And what is beauty?’ 

‘Terror,’ a voice answered from my office’s door.

My life up until this moment, along with all my darkest memories and the series of events that led me to where I am today, flash before my eyes, and it feels as if the universe has stopped specifically to play along with his sadistic trick. My jaw clenches involuntarily, my eyes threaten to betray my emotions, and I have to remind myself I’m not the same brainless kid chasing empty promises and impossible dreams, fully convinced that every existing land, no matter how vast it may be, is my playground and that fate will bend according to my petulant will. I have to get out of my head, the silence is stretching. My students, probably confused, are expecting some kind of sign from my disordered self. He is waiting for a reaction. The past has finally caught up to me. After all my futile attempts, it still managed to intrude on my present’s doorway. 

I take a deep breath. I look at my students, curiosity mixed with confusion clear in their expressions. I don’t need to look at him to know who he is.

‘I apologize,’ I start hoping that they cannot hear the tremble in my voice as accentuated as I seem to do, ‘class is dismissed.’

I need not say more before my students start gathering their belongings in complete silence so as to not further disturb the room completely filled with palpable animosity and perhaps something more vivid, cursed to lurk in the depths of our minds. I reach blindly toward my pack of cigarettes, lying somewhere on my desk between books and coffee-stained papers. Lucky Strikes, yet another sign of his hold on me. I light my cigarette, breathing in the curls of smoke spiraling down my throat. The sound of his leather shoes clicking against the wooden floorboards reverberates through my beating heart. I am well aware that even now, after years of attempting to escape from the rosary He entangled around my neck, I am still His most loyal devotee, respecting vigilantly every silent command. Deep and numbing smoke inside my lungs, like a relaxant, washes me with warm Indian summer waves of calmness.

He is fixating me with his cold blue eyes, watching for any sign of defiance. Over the years I’ve spent in his presence, I’ve learned to recognize his transitive facial expressions, his secretive ways, and his small habits, whether it is the way he holds a page between his fingers before turning it or his tendency to dive into long monologues about whatever interests him at that moment. It is a distinct ability that has grown its roots along my blood vessels, twisted and intertwined beyond differentiation. Understanding each other used to be our way of showing our affection. It is something so sacred that I cannot bring myself to weaponize against him and betray the bond we once had. You’d think that after so much time I’d be able to break free from the shackles His divinity holds me in and convert to a different faith. But He is nestled so deeply in me, that I cannot help but like the burns and the imprints upon my skin.

Henry Marchbanks Winter looks the same. But he now has a new pair of glasses and slight crow’s feet, along with faint smile lines framing his lips. He’s wearing one of his dark English suits, which have always fit him incredibly well. And if the wrinkles weren’t enough, the few grey hairs peeking from underneath the familiar dark colour of his hair are a brutal reminder of how much of him I missed. A cruel admonitum of the years that have passed and of all the times I wasn’t next to him, not by chance but by choice. It takes all I have in me to not fall to my knees, confess my sin, and beg for forgiveness. As if all the years I’ve been away from him turned into mere days I find myself falling back to my old habits and once again bowing down to his silent command.

Amor dominus terribilis est.

The cigarette burns, forgotten between my fingers, as I get wasted on his scent, for once, unbothered by the consequences.

‘I’ve finally found you, dilectus.’ Beloved.

‘I suppose you have.’ I cannot help but stare at him, hypnotized by the storm in his eyes.

‘I have been searching for you since the day you left.’ He reaches a gentle, steady hand to brush my cheek ‘London of all places-’

As much as I wish to let him hold me again I find myself interrupting him. ‘You have no business here.’ I walk to the open window and take my second drag from the almost fully burned cigarette.

He sighs, frustration slipping through the cracks of his perfection.

‘Like it or not,’ he emanates divine turmoil as he emphasizes every word  ‘you are my business.’

‘After so long we can’t be anything but strangers.’

‘You are wrong.’ He states immediately as I finish the sentence. ‘You cannot act as if you have forgotten everything we’ve been through.’ His hand once again finds its way to my face and caresses it with smooth, slow motions. This time I let him. ‘One more chance is all I ask for.’ He whispered.

‘One more chance.’ I agree, defeated.