#i was starting to think something happened to my order

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they��ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

#x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fanficion #max verstappen #lando norris #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x lando norris #lando norris imagine #landoscar #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oscar piastri #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #op81 fic #mv1 #mv33 x reader

[teezersfics]

Lipstick~ Kim Hongjoong ♡

Just trying to match my hair with your favourite lipstick shade ~ Kim Hongjoong

♡ EROTICA ATEEZ ♡

Warnings : sub!reader, dom!hongjoong, unprotected penetration, angry sex, teasing, dirty talk (a lil bit), denied climax, punishment, thigh riding, Hongjoong ordering around, possessive HJ, MDNI, 18+

WC : 3.7K

Haven't done the fact check, so if there are any mistakes, please understand ⊂(･ω･)

There is a little story at start, the 18+ part starts after a while.

(A/n : OK, so it's quiet interesting cuz a week before Coachella I bought a lipstick in cherry red type shade, and when I saw Hongjoong at Coachella with same shade of Hair, it did things to me and that's how I wrote this. Enjoyyyyy~)

It was weekend, that means it was time to celebrate.

This weekend, a success party was organised for all the 8 lovely and hardworking boys by the company for their successful Coachella show and tour this summer. Ofcourse, a deserved one.

But, you were upset about one thing. You boyfriend. Hingjoong. Its been two weeks since they came back from US. But, it was just 4 days ago that he met you. Though, it's good that he is prioritising his time with his family, but you were upset upon the fact that he couldn't even meet you for sometime in these many days. He even met his friends from another company before meeting you. And that kinda made you sad for some reason.

Since you boy met, you've been giving cold shoulder to him, no matter how much he tried or apologised. You were not completely mad about it, its just you were playing with him for sometime, until the bomb inside him ticks. He might be a cutie patootie, until you test his limits, that's exactly what you were waiting for. You were just not going to let it loose until he made you.

As evening comes closer, you realise its time to get ready for the party tonight. The fact that Hongjoong was supposed to be at your apartment right now, getting ready along with you, but he was gone from morning without telling you a word. Sometimes you just can't figure out what's going inside his brain. But, you can't wait anymore, you have to start getting ready.

The theme was black and gold. Basic but classy combination. And, office parties are always classy. It was pure celebration night along with some business stuff. There was going to be an announcement at the party, but its fun part because only director knows about it, not even the boys.

As you think about all the exciting stuff that was going to happen in tonight's party, you get ready in your black backless bodycon dress, which was, ofcourse, a bit revealing. Revealing enough to trigger something in someone. Adding black heels and a cute little Balmain purse, finishing your look with gold rings, bracelet and a short gold chain.

Checking yourself finally in mirror for last time, you almost forgot to apply the lipstick. Your favourite thing in makeup. These days you are hooked onto a particular lipstick shade. A dark cherry red or blood red or dark red, however you call it. You just love how that shade looks on your lips. Applying the lipstick and checking yourself in the mirror for the very last time, you hear the sound of horn. Just in time.

You leave your apartment complex and while heading towards the street, there he is leaning against the car. No matter how much upset you are about him, in the end of the day, 'damn, he is really my man. Mine.' this is your last thought.

All black outfit, black shiny blazer, heeled boots, loose black shirt, golden chain and analogue watch. But wait, what you observed next was was you were not expecting. Your steps become slower. A brand new hair look. Undercut, cherry red dyed hair with wet look. It's as if you are day dreaming. He definately knows about your new obsession.

You walk up to him, cheeks already stained with heat, you didn't know what to say.

"Looking preety, princess" He compliments you. But, you remind yourself 'act upset.'

"You too." You say it coldly.

"Such a dry compliment? You don't know how much efforts I have put in today's look."

You clearly know what he is talking about, it's the hair, but you are currently playing hard.

"I mean, the look is preety handsome."

"The look?"

"Yeah. What else?"

"Very well."

To be honest, the more you are in front of him, the desperate your hands are growing to just caress his hair until you ruin the hairstyle. And, you just cannot control. An odd strand of his hair, resting on his eyebrow, looks out of place, which you try to fix. But, as your hand is approaching his forehead, he fixes it himself. Opening the door, he motions for you to get in. Irritated, you squeeze your eyes at him in annoyance and he responds you with a naughty smirk. "So, two-player game has finally started." Is what you think.

The ride till destination is just exchange of some words. You were continously resisting the urge to look at him. Just can't get enough of him in that hair colour. And his preety face. Oh god. But, one thing he doesn't knows, is your completely backless dress. He is yet to see it, and you know exactly when to use it as a trigger.

Reaching at the destination, you both are greeted with welcoming smiles from the boys. The 7 balls of sunshine welcoming you and your other grumpy ball of sunshine.

Their smiles are enough to make someone's day better. And, it's just the start of today's evening.

After the short greetings, you are seated at the couch, enjoying the drinks and snacks. Some of the members girlfriends are here too, with whom you are familiar with. There are also other artist from the company, for celebrating ATEEZ success. Such a wholesome company. And, suddenly there are taps on mic, stealing everyone's attention.

"Mic check, okayyy"

It's the director.

"Well, its about the special announcement. Total, of three announcements. Initially, I would like to tell everyone, that our boys, ATEEZ, after Hongjoong joining Balmain as brand ambassador, other boys will also be joining big brands from Korea and also international brands,as bran ambassadors, very soon."

Everyone cheer and congratulate the boys. Sometimes it just makes you tear up, how much these boys are growing.

( fr tho, I cry sometimes. )

"Secondly, ATEEZ will be having a Comeback in June."

Again there are cheers. Not gonna lie, Comeback period is so good, because as Hongjoong's girlfriend, you already know most of things from newest Comeback, and it's just so fun to see Atinys reactions to all the stuff getting released.

"Third, announcement. Out team manager is going to get married this month." This information does get the loudest cheers. The night is full of laughs and smiles. But, it's time for a game now.

Everyone is called up on the dance floor. The upbeat songs fills the environment. It feels like the clubs with all the crazy lightings and upbeat songs. But, as night gets older, upbeat songs turn to skies romantic songs. Ofcourse, for some of the couple present here. It starts with Manager and his soon to be wife joining the dance floor with cute couple dance. Later on, other members, San, Seonghwa, Mingi and Yunho also joins the stage with their girlfriends. You were stealing glances with Hongjoong, but he didn't ask you for the dance. It kinda made you upset. But, your bestie did notice it.

"Hey, it's not good to see a preety lady, sitting upset on the couch, while romantic songs are playing here. Come on, dance with me, will you?" It's Wooyoung, holding his hand out for you. Always been a life saver. You could always tryst him in situations like this.

"Gladly" you say with a smile and join him.

All this conversation just received piercing stares from Hongjoong.

On the dance floor, you can't thank Wooyoung enough for offering you for a dance.

"Gosh Wooyoung, you always get the situation right."

"Hmm, I've been observing it since you two came. Did you two fought or something?" He asks.

"Kind of. But just play along with me."

"Sure, your majesty."

As, you start the slow dance, you slowly bring all your hairs to the front from one side, revealing the backless dress.

"Holy, a backless dress. I see what you are doing." Wooyoung says to which you give a low chuckle.

"But, I don't think so I am allowed to touch your back. I'll be burned to ashes by someone."

"It's okay, you can hold my waist instead." You say.

"Oh Wooyoung, you are so loyal and you don't even have a girlfriend yet. How's that possible?"

"Didn't.....find anyone yet. My type is bit weird."

"Your future girlfriend will be so lucky."

"But looks like I won't be lucky anymore. Hongjoong's eyes are literally on fire. He hasn't stopped looking here for a second."

You chuckle to how stresses he sounds.

"You laughing?? Currently I am being used as a pawn and god knows what is going to happen to me, the next time Hongjoong calls me in his room."

"Haha, okay. This much is fine for today. Let's go."

"I hope this gets your work done." He gives you a thumbs up before leaving the stage.

You join Hongjoong again on the couch.

"Are you done dancing?" He is not looking at you. The mad energy radiates from him which gives you goosebumps but you try not to stutter.

"Yeah."

"Looks like you enjoyed it too much."

"Hmm, Wooyoung is actually so good at dancing."

He is still not looking at you.

"I still feel like this night shouldn't end. Its just so good to see eve-"

"We were leaving." He cuts you off.

"What?"

"Get up."

He gets up and heads to give last greetings to boys.

"Why are leaving early? There still alot of time." Seonghwa asks.

"Didn't have some proper rest for some days. Also, I need to drop her first. Right, Princess?"

He says to which you just nod.

Ride back was silent, not a single word exchanged. But as you reached, he grabbed your wrist. Dragging you all way up to your apartment complex, he yanked you into your bedroom, closing the door behind him.

"What is it Hongj-"

"Remove everything you have on your body, except that dress."

You are shocked by the sudden command, you just stand there, unmoving.

"Wasn't I enough loud for you to hear that? Get to work." There is something behind those eyes. Something that tells you not to mess up right now.

As you are removing all your accessories and heels, he is also loosening his own tie, folding the sleeves of his shirt to half, unbuttoning half of the buttons, messing his hairs a bit. Shit! The raw look that you enjoy to savour. Everytime he come backs from work or a meeting or award show, and loosening himself up after coming home, you would enjoy him in this look for hours. Not to mention the several times you have secretly pleasured yourself unknowingly imagining him in this look.

After he is done with it, he sits on the corner of the bed, right in front of mirror. He motions you to come closer and stand in front of him. His hands starts from your shoulder, caressing your body from your curves throughout your hips.

"Hmm, what a right choice for a party dress, showing all that cleavage, that back, that curve of the hips. It's not like, I want to limit your freedom, but I definately won't like what's mine to be eye candy for others." His voice goes low.

"Wear what you like baby, but don't use that to test my patience. Understand."

"This dress does not have a kind of good impression on me. Beacuse, it was not me who danced with you." His hands then heads towards your dress zipper but instead of opening the zipper, he straight out rips the dress from your back.

"And I make sure, you never wear this dress again."

The dress is soon pulled down from your body leaving you in your lingerie. No matter how many times you've been naked in front of him, no matter how many times you fucked, the way he looks at your body always brings goosebumps.

He manspreads and motions you to sit on his one lap. And you do as he asked. But, he has other plans today.

"Nah! Not like this baby. Face your back to me."

When you face your back to him, you could see both your figures in the mirror. You sitting on his lap, legs apart, him scanning the scene in front of him. But, what he says next, fills your eyes with horror.

"Since you were being a little bad today, your punishment is to only ride my thigh for today. And if you cum without my orders, forget getting my dick."

The worst thing you could hear today. After trying so hard to just get fucked, but all you get is a punishment, testing how much you can resist your high.

"Come on, baby. Move." His grit his teeth ordering you to begin the show.

Hesitantly, you start moving your hips. Slowly increasing your pace to gain more and more friction. You hands resting on his other thigh and bed, head thrown back, eyes rolled to your brain. Hongjoong resting both of his hands on bed, his head thrown back too. He sure is making you punished, but he himself is not sure how long he can hold back.

You just try to make your movements faster and faster, digging yourself more into his thigh, grinding as if your life depends on it. But, you are frustrated. Frustrated for not getting what you wanted, you click your tounge and whine in frustration while still maintaining the pace.

But your whines are loud enough to catch his attention. He lifts his head up, a victory smirk on his face, droopy eyes. "Did I just hear it right? Little cries of frustration." His mouth is right on your ear. "Frustrated because you didn't get what you wanted? How petty." He chuckles, the vibration of the sound making your ear feel numb.

He places his one hand on your neck, pushing your neck to the back, and other hand on your waist, helping you increase your pace, almost digging his nails in your waist. When you look in the mirror, he already has his eyes, trained on your face. And, you see the lust in his eyes, pure lust.

He for sure is your lovely boyfriend, but when he is filled with lust, it's like completely different person, as if he'd switch roles with some incubus. Not to mention, him having that perfect blood coloured hairs now, make your organs do backflips in your body.

Speaking of that, you try to raise your hands to try touch his hairs, but he is more in his sensed than you do right now. He quickly stops you by holding your hands, and then holding them at your back. You hear a scoff.

"If I let happen what you want the most, then what's the point of my punishment, yeah?"

You click your tounge again, clearly not hiding your frustration anymore. His one hand goes again to your waist, helping you work more faster. But, you can't hold it back longer. Your patience have ended.

“Ho- Hongjong pleasee-” you whisper.

“Hmm, did I hear something?”

“I am…..am so close. Please….”

“Aww, but you know the rules, right”

He is just testing every bit of your patience.

“Please, please, I beg…beg you.”

A single tear roll down your closed eye, out of desperation and your restrained release. But, your breathes grow heavy and you are so…so close to disobey him again. And he notices, stopping your movements.

“On your back, now.”

Without wasting a second, you are laying on bed. He gets in between legs separating them for him to stand on his knees, undressing himself. Finally pulling down his boxer to take out his hard dick. He pumps it himself for some seconds. He comes down to kiss you, or rather you'd say eat your lips out. The way he is kissing you with his tongue exploring every corner in your mouth, making you out of breathe.

Your hand pinned above your head, with one hand still stopping you from achieving your goa of touching his hairsl. Separating his lips from yours, he removes the last remaining pieces of clothes from your body.

“Remember baby, the rules are still same. No cumming without my permission.”

And with that he enters you, bottoming out, making you gasp out loud.

“Gosh, you are so wet, I don't even need to try.”

Then he starts moving, short shallow thrusts at start, pulling out just halfway through and then going all in again. Making your body rock every so slowly. But, then when he is done with the intro, he increases his speed suddenly, pulling almost out but then suddenly snapping in fast making you scream.

“Ahhh, fuck, fuck…ah agh”

“Oh, just this got you cursing like this, the main show is yet to begin.”

With this, starts thrusting fast, so fast that could rip your pussy. The sound of skin slapping, creaking of bed, both your pants and moans, fills the room.

He finally let your hands free to gain more stability, and first thing you do is find his hair. Intervening your hand with his hair, you pull them making Hongjoong groan. He is not that vocal in bed, but when he is, his moans are most best thing your ears have ever heard. And, you always try to find a way to make him moan.

He backs up for a while, halting his movements for seconds, and throwing your legs over his shoulders while still being inside you, wiping his sweat before starting again. This time he is not just thrusting but pushing himself inside of you, basically pushing you into the mattress. Your brain is so fucked out right now, you have no capacity to understand anything. You are gripping the sheets beneath you for your dear life. His balls deep inside of you, pushing in and out, furiously. There's a drool flowing from the corner of your mouth, eyes rolled back.

“Aww, look at that fucked out face. Do I do you that good baby, hmm?"

You hear everything but you are so messed to answer anything to him. All that comes out of your mouth are moans and screams of his name.

He comes down to kiss you again, kissing all that drool away. He bites your lower lip while kissing you, drawing out blood, making you wince, but without a thought he sucks your blood too. That particular action made the knot in your stomach tighten.

“Ahh!! Fuck. Shit baby, your blood tastes sweet- sweet too, ah.” He says within heavy pants. His speed of thrust has become slower but, instead he thrusts in with more force, literally making the bed rock back and forth. Pushing himself in you and at the same time pulling you towards him, with force. It just hits different when he is jealous and wrecks the shit out of you, the best type of sex because he'd give his all to make sure the name coming out of your mouth is only his.

He kissed your legs, from ankle to your knee while still thrusting, leaving bite marks on your calves. And with other hand, he adds two fingers to your already stuffed hole, thrusting with his fingers simultaneously with his dick. That made you scream out loud. Somehow you managed to open your eyes a bit, but as soon as he saw you a mischievous grin appeared on his face, looking directly in your eyes. You knew, there was something going in his head.

He removes his fingers from your hole and starts rubbing on your clit with his palm. No, he knows how to test you. You throw your head back into the mattress because of the sudden added pleasure. He starts rubbing forcefully on your clit, he could almost feel his dick slamming in and out through your skin. That was just bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“Ho- Hong, plesee….”

“Umm, please what babe?”

“Hong-....you- you know….please”

“Oh, does my baby wants to cum???” He coos, mockingly.

“Yess….” You nod desperately.

“But, baby. You know the rules right?? What did I say??”

You know he wouldn't let you win, but you can't hold it back. But, coming without him saying so, would just bring you another trouble. You bang your fists on the mattress out of frustration.

“Oh oh, look who is angry.” He coos again. But he instantly comes down, his mouth hovering above your ear, “If you just don't want to go through this, then don't go around making ME angry.” He grits. “Understood. Now wait.”

He starts thrusting again, fast, his both hands on your neck. Your denied climax, him thrusting faster and his hands gripping your neck, all this was too much for you to handle, the overwhelming feeling was making your back arch. You again pull onto his hairs, getting him to moan loudly. Him moaning your name and curses loudly into your ear was your last straw.

“Ahhh,fuck y/n. You feel so fucking good. Ahh.”

“Hong- Hong…please. I can't hold…..”

After some hard thrusts he finally says.

“Baby, cum for me. Together. Come on.”

And with that, you release at the same time as him. Your body going limp suddenly. While he still stays inside you pushing both of your cum further inside you.

He removes himself and lays on you, hugging you from above, peppering your breasts with butterfly kisses.

“Baby, I know I was busy all these days and did not meet you. But don't ever do what you did today. If you want attention, just say it to me. Just know, at the end of the day, I will always come to you. I just can't see you in anyone else's hands.”

You nod with a hum. Your hands find its way to his hairs.

“You did this on purpose, didn't you?” You ask.

He scoffs with a guilty ‘yes’

“I saw, lately you've been liking this colour alot. So, I just tried matching my hair with your lipstick shade.”

“You don't know what that did to me.” He chuckles after hearing you.

He suddenly lifts you up in bridal style, heading towards the bathroom.

“Let's bath together. I will wash your hair today, ok.”

No, cuz, i am SOOO crazy over this Hongjoong, like bsnsjkakakakakananwjjsosoaka

#ateez #ateez atiny #ateez au #ateez hongjoong #ateez imagines #ateez stories #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez ff #smut #ateez hongjoong smut #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #mdni #18+ mdni #18+ content #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez ot8 #ateez scenarios

[vixen7243]

Undivided Attention: Soap

Johnny[Soap] MacTavish x AFAB!Reader | TF141 x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Gaz | Price | Ghost | Soap

MDNI!!

With the team back, you noticed you always had a shadow following you around base. Currently in the clinic you held back the smirk as you caught a glimpse of Johnny stepping in and leaning by your door to your office. Finishing up the last few stitches on the new recruits temple you turned around to clean up the bloody cotton swabs, "So, does a kiss come with the bandage?" Looking up to Johnny, you saw how his whole body tensed, face hardened, his sweet playful smile gone, he was glaring at the boys behind you.

"No, your buddy can give you one though if you really need it." You said taping a bandage over his stitches. Flinching a bit when one of the boys grabbed your right arm and tried pulling you more to them. "Owe, hey, let me go."

"Why you trying to be smart? Co-" The recruit was cut off as Johnny grabbed his collar and dragged him closer coming face to face.

"Let go of her right now." You shivered at his tone, following his hand, as he guided you gently behind him, "Bonnie, go back to the barracks, LT should be there."

"But Joh-"

"Go." He glanced at you, tone soft but warning, eyes holding his anger, not at you though, once he got a good look at you he softened slightly. "Go Bonnie."

"Okay." You were quiet as you turned and left following his order. Walking into the barracks, sure enough Simon was sitting on the couch leaned back flicking through the channels. "Hi."

"Hey luv, you okay?" You sat down beside him and fiddled with your fingers looking over to the door.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You'd said turning and looking at him trying to smile.

"What happened?" He'd asked, leaning forward onto his elbows on his knees, staring at you.

"I think Johnny might be killing some recruits in the clinic." Glancing to the corner of your peripheral at Simon, "They'd made something of an inappropriate comment and then grabbed me." And before your could say anything more the door to the barracks opened making you both look to it, and you shot up making your way around the coffee table. Johnny stepped in, blood all over his hands, and some on his cheek and on his shirt, "Oh my god, Johnny, baby, are you okay?"

"Aye, m' alright bonnie, not me to worry bout." His playful smile was back, eyes gleaming as he looked down at you while he made his way to the sink.

"Jesus, did you kill them?" You'd asked handing him soap and then finding a clothe to grab his wrists and take over helping him wipe the blood from his hands. "You didn't... did you?" His chuckle sent a cold chill down your spine and decided to stop any further questions on the recruits and after getting one hand cleaned, you pulled his hand up and kissed each of his knuckles and then turned his hand to kiss his palm. Drying it quickly, you then grabbed his other hand and repeated the process. Finishing you looked up at him just as he turned you around and sliding his arms around your waist and started guiding you to his room. Glancing back you saw as Simon was now talking with Kyle, where Kyle came from you had no clue but they both looked mad. Stepping into Johnny's room all you could think was that if Johnny hadn't killed them, the other guys were definitely going to based off their looks. "Johnny?"

"How's yer arm?" He asked after removing his shirt, grabbing your hips lightly, he pulled you between his legs as he sat down.

"I'm fine, really. I tried telling you that at the clinic." You cupped his cheeks, then started dragging your hands and fingers all over him, rubbing and squeezing. "Johnny, baby, what did you do?"

Looking up at you he smirked, "Ye know what I did bonnie, so does LT." That remark made you shiver, "I've no doubt he and the other two will take care of the rest if they are still sitting in there." Biting your lip you pouted pinching his chin and forcing him to look up into your eyes.

"Work is work, but not when it comes to this Johnny. I don't want you guys to do anything rash, especially because of me. You're such an amazing man and I appreciate you protecting me and standing up for me, but I would never get over it if anything happened to my bois." You kissed his forehead then littered kisses all over his face. "Please don't do anything rash because of me Johnny." You whispered against his lips before pushing into him, his back straightening into you, his hands fully wrapping around you and keeping you against him. "Promise me Johnny, I can't loose you guys."

Pulling you into his lap he kissed his cheeks and nose, "I promise bonnie."

Wrapping your left arm around his neck you pulled him back into a kiss, squeezing your thighs on either side of his hips. "Johnny." As he let kisses lightly trail down your neck and carefully graze over your collar being so delicate with you, you felt like glass. Shivering in his hands as he unbuttoned your shirt, ever so carefully sliding your shirt down and off of you. "So gentle with me, making me feel special." You said smiling as his eyes glinted up at you as his tongue dragged through your breasts. "Gentle but dirty." You giggled locking your lips with his, moaning as you sucked on his tongue when he slide it between your lips. Feeling him slowly grind your hips along him you started moving with him whining into his mouth as a hand dipped into your pants fingers teasing through your underwear. Gasping back as you both looked down, you undid your pants, and watched as he pushed your underwear aside and slide his middle finger between your folds before dipping it into you his thumb rubbing your clit just how you like. Johnny never teased you when you guys would start to get intimate, he loved getting on his knees for you and getting you straight to an orgasm, pleasing you and making you happy. In his eyes, you work more than hard enough, he is always happy to serve you, taking each word you tell him as a command and not hesitating to follow.

"Yer amazing bonnie, so lucky." He said sliding another finger into you groaning with you as he started pumping his fingers into you, feeling your silky walls clasp around him.

"You're going to drive me crazy Johnny, always knowing how to make me happy baby. You ne-shit-never disappoint me. Oh, right there Johnny." Focused on his fingers you whimpered, the sound of your pussy squishing around his fingers filling both yours and Johnny head. Eager to hear you some more, Johnny used his other hand to slide your tank top up your body and fondle your breasts, before then unclasping your bra. Moaning when he started flicking your one nipple and sucking your other nipple between his lips, suckling and flicking the bud you arched up to his mouth cupping the back of his head holding him to you, grinding your hips more into his hand. Trying to spread your legs a little further your breath stuttered in your throat as your clit throbbed under his thumb, the pressure fogging your mind making you delirious, mindlessly humping his hand aimless praise and pleas falling from your lips.

Grunting around your nipple he smiled looking up to you as he felt your arousal gushing and spilling around his fingers, your walls flutter, trying to suck his fingers deeper, all while you came, "FuCK! Yes, Johnny, fuck." Still moving your hips over his fingers you road out your orgasm, the warm tingling in your stomach only growing when he released your nipple with a pop, his saliva connecting his bottom lip to your breast, "Like a babe." You giggled as you relaxed into his lap smiling as he spun the both of you, trapping you under him making sure to lay your head into his pillows.

"Aye, if ye keep letin us fuck ye unprotected, ye'll have a real one soon nough. Might s'well get yer pretty nipples ready, ya?" You couldn't help the blush that dusted your cheeks or the way that your cunt continued to clench around nothing. Slightly embarrassed you grabbed his shoulders.

"Who said I wasn't using protection?" You said noticing as he halted his movements and stopped kissing down your stomach to look at you.

"Ye uses protection with the others?"

"With all of you. I take birth control every morning and if I feel after a time with any of you that I could be or get pregnant...I take... a pill." It was quiet for a moment, felt too long considering this was Johnny. You couldn't get a read on if hearing this mad him upset or not, although you don't lay with anyone else but them, or entertain talking to anyone, you know how intimately they own you, and you know that none of them sleep or talk to anyone else either, they believing that they belong to you just as much. But any thought to your personal lives, at home, away from all this work and blood shed, how your relationship from deployment would actually be you had no clue, none of you had ever talked of it. "Johnny?"

"Hm." He'd only hummed, but his lips didn't return to your skin as he looked into your eyes. "Would it make ye that unhappy... to get pregnant by us?"

Your eyes widened, this conversation truly felt like a group discussion, an important one at that, "It's not that it would make me... I don't feel... I just didn't know what you guys would think if I came forward one morning...telling you all that I was pregnant." You traced his jaw with light fingers, "This is something for everyone to be apart of, other matters to discuss and figure out."

"Are you no longer in the mood?"

"Are you?"

The smirk that reclaimed it's place on his face eased your heavy heart, "Whenever I can get ye in my arms and especially in my bed I'll always be in the mood bonnie." Continuing his decent down your stomach, you shivered as he started working your pants and underwear down your legs, nipping and kissing to your ankles and then back up. Slotting himself between your legs, "We can have that chat with the others, but I want ye to know, I'm going to bend ye in half all night, fillin ye womb to the brim with everything I have. I don't want ye to take any extra precaution in the morning either. If ye get pregnant, mine or the others, I will take care of ye and the babe. Always and forever bonnie." His soft kisses to the apex of your thighs, pelvic and finally cunt whispering of a house, kids, dog you've always wanted and cat that he could stand, his mother loving you, you always round with his babes. While his tongue worked your clit, fingers continuing to fill you till he's felt content with the amount of times you've cum on his fingers you took the time to take over his foretelling of what the future could hold for the two of you. Excitedly mentioning the other men, for every time you mention bedding one of the others, carrying their babes, them also at that sweet picture dream home he would suckle a little harder on your clit, moan louder against your cunt, fingers scissoring and curling abusing that sensational spot that curls your toes.

Huffing through another orgasm you drowsily watched as he worked back up, stopping momentarily at your stomach rubbing his thumbs on the sides, kisses all over your stomach, and again around your breasts. Cupping your cheek, he kissed you, slowly, while the taste of you on his tongue and feel of his wet chin made you moan with him, wiggling under him, fumbling with his belt and pants. Working them down he sat up and removed them himself, pulling your leg to his hip before bringing his tip to rest at your entrance, kissing you deeply he eased himself in both of you moaning and whimpering. Tongues intertwining just like your bodies, you raised your legs a little higher onto his hips arching up as his cock reached to your cervix you clawed his shoulders and back, falling over the edge when his whimpers and silent pleas for you to take everything he had.

Feeling as his cock twitched inside of you before pushing his hips into you, you pushed back against him. Pulling your knees up and against your chest he held himself into you, playing your clit, using that little pearl to bring you to another orgasm, one that felt hot and piercing, taking your breath away as he started pounding himself into you through the middle of it, making you practically scream writhing and twisting from the stimulation.

Nearing morning the two of you, covered in sweat, his cum filled you to the brink, slowly spilling and pooling at your ass, groaning at the sit he turned to his side pushing his fingers back into you, trying to pump all back to its home. "Don't waste it bonnie."

"I'm still on birth control Johnny, this is more or less just practice." You giggled, also turning to him, throwing your leg over his him, the both of you scooting impossibly closer to each other.

"Fine, practice, amazing as it is, we'll perfect everything." He said laughing against your neck. Shaking your head you closed your eyes and tucked yourself around him falling asleep, your light snores lulling him to sleep.

---

Waking up some hours later, you untwined from Johnny making your way to the shower before too long Johnny had awoken and joined you, helping you wash the soap off your body and giving you an early morning orgasm that had the both of you almost slipping and falling, laughing as he tried to refill your emptying womb.

Making your way into the rec room, you noticed the rest of the guys sitting around quiet, "Good morning." You said walking in, John reached his arm out, slipping it around your waist while you were walking past him, pulling you to his lap.

"Two of you kept us up all night." He said, voice rough, and his cock twitching against your thigh.

"Sorry." You said stifling a laugh as Johnny chuckled making the two of you coffee.

"Sure you are gorgeous." Kyle said smirking at you.

Taking your cup from Johnny you sipped while he sat by Simon, quiet settling over all of you again. Although it was comfortable, your mind wander to last night, the small chat of pregnancy and your guys relationship out side of deployment heavy on your mind. How were you supposed to bring that up? Biting your tongue you decided to wait, there will be a time, you just don't want to bother them. Rolling your shoulders, pushing that tension aside, you melted into John's chest slowly looking over all of them.

"So, what did you guys do to the recruits?"

Love a dark twisted Johnny, beat the shit out of some creeps and breed the shit out of his girl.🥵 He'll do all that he can to make his girl happy, and make her cum.🫠 A real good man.🫡

#call of duty #task force 141 #x reader #john price #simon ghost riley #smut #18+ mdni #john price smut #johnny soap mactavish #john price x reader #soap x reader smut #johnny mactavish smut #protective #family oriented #kyle garrick smut #kyle gaz garrick #tf141 smut #tf 141 x reader #tf141 x you #need these men #what i would give to have this life #the things i would do for them

[sailorholly]

Between Us Pt. 7

Summary: You and Spencer had a casual relationship. A misunderstanding ruins it all.

Pairing: Spencer Reid × F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Friends with benefits. Angst. Pregnancy. A tiny bit of smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

See my Masterlist here

Part Six

Spencer ended things with Ashley. It was a huge fight. She didn’t want him to leave her. She knew it had something to do with you. So she resented you. She would bring the greasiest pizza for lunch for the whole team after you mentioned the smell made you sick.

She would comment about how much weight you were gaining. She made you feel so insecure, it was becoming a problem. Your face was swollen today, you couldn’t do anything with your hair, and you felt too nauseous to do your makeup this morning. You walked in to work, hoping Ashley wouldn’t be there.

“You look awful. Pregnancy doesn’t suit you.” She says the moment she sees you. Your hormones have been all over the place lately. Your first instinct was to grab her by the throat, but then you thought about her words, and all her petty behavior towards you. Tears filled your eyes, streaking down your cheeks.

“Why do you think it’s okay to talk to someone the way you talk to me? I would never say anything like that to you. What’s your problem with me anyways? You have hated me since the day you started here. I haven’t done anything to you.”

The tears keep falling, you can’t help it. She was cruel. “It’s all about you, isn’t it? Reid wouldn’t even look at me because of you. You had him wrapped around your finger, then you blew it! I finally had my chance, but he was still obsessed with you! He wouldn’t sleep with me because of you. He barely kissed me! Then you got pregnant on purpose to trap him.” She walks right up to you, pointing her finger accusing you.

“Ashley, I did not get pregnant on purpose! I had nothing to do with your relationship.” You try to explain, but she interrupts again. “Save it! I don’t believe you. You’ve got him right where you want him now. I just don’t understand why he would want you, when he could have me!” She places her hands on your shoulders, shoving you backwards.

The back of your legs hit a desk. She is still screeching at you when Spencer pulls her away. “Ashley, get off of her! What are you doing? You could hurt her and the baby!” His cheeks go red, dark eyes flashing. You’ve never seen him this angry before. He looks you over, inspecting carefully for any sign of injury. “Are you okay?” You nod, you’re a little shaken up because you didn’t expect her to put her hands on you.

Hotch comes out of his office, his face stern as he calls Ashley to him. Spencer tells him you’re both taking the day off. He agrees, as he shuts the door behind her. Spencer took you to his apartment, where you spent the day watching your favorite movies and cuddling.

You would normally protest the affection, but after the morning you had it was welcome. As the evening approached, Spencer ordered your latest craving, and you watched one of his favorites, some Russian movie with no subtitles. You had watched it three times with him before, so you knew what was going on. You didn’t stop him when he leaned over to whisper the translation in your ear. His hot breath sent goosebumps down your arms.

It was getting late, so you stood up telling Spencer you needed to go home. “You can sleep here. I’ll take the couch.” You think about it, but not for long. You really do want to stay. You were comfy here and it had started storming. Spencer knew you were terrified, that’s probably why he offered. So you accepted, you took a shower while he laid out one of the few t-shirts he owned for you to sleep in.

You tossed and turned, the thunder was so loud it felt like it shook the apartment building. You had tried to sleep, but between the storm and what happened with Ashley, you couldn’t. You were so angry with her for putting her hands on you. She’s lucky you were pregnant and caught off guard. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have a job to go back to tomorrow.

You thought of how Spencer stood up for you. He had never been hotter. This new protective side of him was something else. You feel the familiar ache between your legs. If your hormones weren’t making you cry, they made you horny. You slipped your fingers into your panties, trying to take care of yourself. Three hours could have passed, and you wouldn’t have known. You were getting no where. You were hot, and so desperate for release.

You should have went home, at least you had your vibrator there. You stand in front of Spencer’s sleeping body on the couch, debating on waking him up. You decide to turn around and go back to bed, but he wakes up.

“What’s the matter? Are you okay?” He sits up, wild eyed and panic lacing his voice. “Um, I -I” You stutter, suddenly feeling ashamed. He stands looking you over for visible injuries. “What is it?” He was concerned and probably scared something was wrong with the baby. “Everything is okay - with the baby.” You finally manage.

Spencer rubs the sleep from his eyes. “Something’s wrong with you then?” You put your hands on your hips, his shirt raising on your thighs. His gaze lingers on the newly exposed skin for longer than they should. “It’s embarrassing.” You confess.

“Y/N, you know you can tell me anything.” He grabs your hand, rubbing soothing circles by your thumb. You let out a deep breath. “I’m so horny, I think I might die if I don’t get off. I tried to do something about it myself, but it’s not enough.”

He looks at you, confused. “What do you want me to - oh!” Realization sinks in. He runs a hand through his messy brown curls. “Are you sure?” He asks so softly, you’re not sure if you really heard it. “Yes, I’ve never been more sure of anything. Spencer, I need you.”

Spencer pulls you to him on the couch, your legs spreading on either side of his sitting form. He presses soft kisses to your lips, but you need more. You deepen the kiss, hands traveling down to lift his shirt. He helps you, tossing it over his head, kissing down your neck. His long fingers trail along your torso, toward your breasts. He takes your nipples between his fingers, pinching lightly.

You moan, loving how sensitive they were because of the pregnancy. It makes everything more intense. Spencer gently moves you off him, to a lying position on the couch. He lifts the t-shirt he let you wear over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. He looks at you with a softness you've never seen before. Suddenly, you feel very self-conscious.

You try to cover yourself. You weren't thinking about how differently you looked now. Your breasts were swollen, your stomach wasn't close to being a baby bump yet, but you were bloated. Spencer had to notice too. What were you thinking? He was only doing this to fulfill some kind of obligation he felt for you. He knocked you up, so he had to help you out. That's how Spencer was, he would always take care of you. But you couldn't take advantage of him like this.

"Is everything okay?" He asks, noticing the sudden change. "I'm not in the mood anymore, but thanks for helping." You force a small smile, but he notices. He was very observant. That's what made him such a good profiler. "You're soaking wet. Why are you trying to stop this?" He runs a finger down the seam of your panties to prove his point, your arousal soaking through the fabric, wetting his finger.

"I just look so differently than the last time we did this. I get it if you're not attracted to me right now. I just don't want you to be doing this out of pity." You gesture to your exposed body. "I think you're even more beautiful than before. Your body is changing to make a comfortable home for our baby. I'm so lucky I get to have you like this."

Spencer takes a nipple between his lips, large hand dipping under the waistband of your panties. He hooks an impossibly long finger inside you, his thumb swirling soft circles against your clit. Any worries you had about him not being attracted to you, fade as he works you with his fingers. You feel the pressure building low in your stomach as his tongue swipes at your nipples. He was always so talented with his mouth. You shatter around his fingers, as he removes his lips from your breasts. "You did so good for me." He praises, kissing your stomach.

You yawn, the force of the orgasm and all the craziness from today finally allowing you to rest. "You need to rest, come on." Spencer helps you off the couch, leading you to his bed. "But what about you?" You ask, motioning toward his erection. "I'm fine, really. Tonight was all about you." You open your mouth to protest, but another yawn slips out. He tucks you under the blankets, kissing your forehead before walking back to his makeshift bed on the couch.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @loz-3 @megharat-barnes-reid @kats72 @mochie85 @cakesandtom @spenciesprincess @kimm4710 @tmilover1993 @nomajdetective @cynbx @comboboo @134340ona @wannabewolf @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @freegardenbanananeck @lover-of-books-and-tea @maybe-not-this @drewsandsebastianswife @lamentis-10 @lizzyk137 @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch @rosylnsworld @amortencjja @ah-blossom @dreamsarebig @khxna @diasnohibng @nommingonfood @sp3ncelle @pleasantwitchgarden @isakslilsmile @lavvylove @creaming4daddy @justdianaz @aubs444 @im-this-girl @xblueriddlex @spencerreidsgf420 @witchsbitchestime @lovelygirl8 @chonkybonky @prentissesredtanktop @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @ilikw @theoraekenslover

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #between us #spencer reid au #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!readr

[yandere-sins]

IM CRYING AT THE THOUGHT OF KÖNIG NOT LETTING DARLING COOK

No because imagine him approving of your combat skills (if you suck then you wouldn't be a KorTac operator in the first place) and enjoying how well you work with him on the battlefield but he draws the line if you were to get injured from cooking 😭😭😭

Darling, KorTac, and TF141 when König refuses to let darling cook but allows her to commit war crimes:

Darling explaining (begging) to König on why he should let her bond with the others like a normal soldier and cook for herself because she's not a child.

König towards anyone who tried getting too close to HIS platonic darling (they made a small talk).

You're sooo right about Ghost being rougher yet gives his darling more freedom aka the bare minimum. The problem with platonic yandere König is that he's infantilizing! Even if he's also friends with Horangi, you and Horangi are treated very differently. Horangi and KorTac pities you, truly.

I thought of something, since the rest of TF141 doesn't know the whole thing about you and König, how would you think they'll react towards König's treatment towards his darling? The only ones who came to my mind are Price and Ghost. Price who raises an eyebrow because he's not even like that with his men, and Ghost calling König out on his treatment that makes you uncomfortable.

König is just too afraid something might happen, he totally pulls darling from any missions if he can, but alas, they are more than capable. It also starts out as kind of nice for the darling, I mean, it's great if someone takes care of you for a while, right? But at some point they'll be pretty annoyed for even needing a chaperone to go to the toilet. But of course it's also hard to send König away. He only means well after all... Darling will need to put their foot down even if it hurts (':

The 141 probably sees it as a weird co-dependant situation at first. You're like a service pet even though they never saw the "real" and vulnerable König, so it makes even less sense. However, things do begin to ring alarm bells when they notice you getting frustrated about things like being sent away whenever you want to make food for yourself and König taking over. Or when you don't show up to training. Ghost and Soap are more on the personal front, catching up to you and bumping into your shoulder, asking if you're okay. Price is more of a business front where he orders you to meet him, however, he's still kind when he asks if you need help or if there is something uncanny going on he should know about. They're not really in a position to interfer with KorTac employees, but if you tell them you need a break, they can at least try to get the big guy off your back ever so often. You'll have to do the reporting yourself if you have enough but they can give you the pen and paper or telephone if it's something you'd rather not do in König's presence. But then again, do you want to?

#yandere talk #könig #ghost #yandere könig #yandere ghost #cod #call of duty #yandere cod #yandere call of duty #yandere!cod #yandere!call of duty #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[notsunnyowo]

"𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕕𝕖 𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕤 𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕨 𝕚𝕟 𝕞𝕪 𝕝𝕦𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕟𝕕, 𝕒𝕝𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕚𝕗𝕦𝕝, 𝕀 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕓𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕙𝕖." --𝕌𝕟𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕨𝕟

Word count: 5 216 words

Trigger Warning : Mentions of blood

Hanahaki disease Gojo x Female Reader

Angst, Gojo suffering from Hanahaki, Angst with happy ending, Female Reader (AFAB), Fluff, Gojo is absolutely smitten with reader

Summary: Gojo Satoru is loved by many, except for the sole person he himself loves

It was sudden, the scorching feeling that filled his throat as the milky-haired man began to cough. His throat and lungs felt like they were on fire. It was almost as if thorns were poking and proding at his insides.

As soon as he thought that the violent coughing outburst was nearing its end he felt something traveling up his wind pipe and entering his mouth. Spitting the foreign object out Satoru was surprised to find a rose petal, covered with crimson blood laying on the floor of his apartment.

___

"Are you certain it's not the doing of some curse technique?" Shoko questioned, carefully examining the bloodied petal her friend had brought to her this morning. "Or a cursed spirit perhaps?" The woman continued, eyes focusing on the delicate object at hand.

"Yes. I'm certain of it." Gojo responded. His voice much too serious in comparison to the usual tone it took whenever the man talked. "My six eyes haven't detected any unknown trace of cursed energy on it."

"I see.." Ieiri commented, continuing to inspect the odd object. She'd received a call earlier that morning from Satoru, asking her if he'd be able to come over to discuss some urgent matter. And that's how she'd gotten ahold of that rose petal.

"So you coughed this up yesterday, correct?"

"Yeah."

"Can you tell me what happened again?" She asked, lifting her gaze from the flower petal in order to look at the man.

"I was laying in bed last night, when I felt this strong itching sensation in the back of my throat, followed by a burning sensation in my chest." Satoru began. "And that's when I started coughing like crazy. It was so bad that I couldn't even catch my breath. . . Then I felt something in my throat and this came out."

"Alright.." The woman sat down on her chair, letting out a frusterated sigh.

"What do you think?" The white-haired man asked, his cerulean eyes harboring a mix of concern and irritation deep within them. Despite being worried about his health and well-being, given the gravity of the situation, Gojo being Gojo, found this 'weakness' to be quite a pain in the ass.

After a moment of pondering silence, the young doctor looked up at her patient. "It's a stretch but.." The unsureness of her words sent an irritating feeling throughout Satoru's entire body. "My best guess is to say that you're suffering from a phenomenon called the Hanahaki disease."

"Hana-what-now?" Gojo questioned, his brows creasing as he tried to recall any information he might've had about a disease that caused the patient to cough up rose petals, but to no avail.

Seeing the puzzled look on his face, Ieiri sighed. "Hanahaki is a disease that causes flowers to bloom in the lungs of those suffering from it. Those flowers continue to grow until they eventually suffocate the victim due to the blockage of air they impose on the patient."

"And how do I get rid of it?" Satoru asked, his voice stoic and serious.

"That's the thing.." The woman began, crossing her leg over the other. "It's caused by strong, usually unrequited, feelings of love towards someone."

Unrequited love..?

"So who is it?"

Stunned speechless for a moment, Satoru looked back at his friend. Once he'd regained his composure the man spoke, his tone now shifting to his usual, more carefree one. "Myself, obviously."

With an unamused look on her face Shoko raised an intrigued brow. "I'm pretty sure there's no such thing as Auto-Hanahaki. But, if there was, you'd definitely be suffering from it."

Letting out a loud sigh, the woman leaned back in her chair. "Well, whoever it is, you'd better settle your feelings with them before it's too late." She spoke, sincere concern evident in her voice. "However, just in case, I'll look into this disease more. See if there are any alternative ways of curing it."

"Okay."

___

After Shoko's diagnosis, Satoru was feeling worse than ever. He'd done some of his own research on this wired disease, which was now plaguing his existance. And what he found only made him, feel that much worse.

Hanahaki Disease (花吐き病 ) - a fictional disease in which the victim coughs up flower petals when they suffer from one-sided love. It ends when the beloved returns their feelings (romantic love only; strong friendship is not enough), or when the victim dies. It can be cured through surgical removal, but when the infection is removed, the victim's romantic feelings for their love also disappear...

Frowning at his phone, the young man read trough the Wikipedia article, frustration growing inside him at an alarming rate. "How the hell am I even suffering from a fictional disease.." He muttered under his breath, brows furrowing as he annoyedly shoved his phone into his jacket pocket.

Letting an irritated sigh escape his lips, the man looked off into the horizon. "One-sided love, huh..? To think that I of all people would suffer from a diseased manifestation of one-sided love.."

Despite not voicing his feelings aloud, Gojo was well aware of them. He knew what the problem was. He knew what was needed to be done - who he needed to talk to for all of this to be over..

But he couldn't.

He was Satoru Gojo after all. The strongest sorcerer of the modern era. And with the title of strongest came its struggles. He was the pillar of the Gojo-clan - hell, even the whole jujustu society. A responsibility he alone had to carry to his grave.

Maybe it would've been easier to connect with people on a much deeper level if he was 'normal', if he wasn't 'special'.

But that was just wishful thinking on his behalf.

Even entertaining the idea of settling down, or even having someone to call his own sounded more like some well written fanfiction than a possible future he could look forward to.

There was no way he could possibly have something like that, not as long as he was "The Strongest" at least.

Not as long as there were people, curses even, that would stop at nothing if it meant having a chance to end his life.

He couldn't do that. Couldn't let someone he cared for so deeply be in constant danger, simply because they chose to love him. Couldn't let her life be endangered like that.

Even it it meant keeping her at a distance. Loving her from afar.

Satoru was a smart man and he wasn't oblivious to his feelings for you. On the contrary, he was well aware of them from the start.

He was aware of how he'd light up every time he'd see you. Or how he'd feel his heart skip a beat whenever your hands brushed against one another.

He'd known he was in love from the moment he'd seen you courageously risking your life for the safety of your students. He loved that about you. Hell, he loved everything about you. From the way you'd smile so fondly at him, whenever you were excited about something, to the way you spoke when teaching the first years.

And that was exactly why he could never tell you how he felt.

He'd never be able to live with himself if you'd ever gotten hurt because of him. He loved you with all his heart - and those bloodied petals were proof of it - however he'd promised himself to always keep you from harms way.

Even if that also meant keeping you away from him too.

He'd protect you, no matter what-

"Ah, Gojo! There you are! - I've been looking everywhere for you!" Stopping dead in his tracks, Satoru glanced back, ocean blue orbs meeting with your (eye colored) ones. The sight of your gleamful demeanor as you approached him made his heart swell up with joy - something which happened almost naturally at this point whenever you were with him.

"Is that so?" He cracked a grin, looking down at you.

However, there was something else stirring up inside him as well. A feeling he'd never experienced in your presence up until now. The immense aching feeling that quickly formed inside Satoru's chest was overwelming.

So much so, that the man found himself struggling to take a proper breath - and before he knew it - he'd began coughing. Exactly like how he had done yesterday.

"Yeah. I was wondering if you could-" You paused, looking at the tall man with a look of concern on your face. "Are you feeling alright? That cough sounds pretty bad." Your words, although caring and coming from a good heart, only seemed to further ignite the burning sensation in his heart. Effectively worsening his coughing spree.

Worry quickly spiking, you rushed over to your co-worker, and close personal friend. "Gojo-!" You called out to him, your voice filled with panic. You didn't know what it was that was causing the male such violent coughing, but what you did know was that it couldn't mean anything good.

Your worry only seemed to get worse when you first saw it. There on the sidewalk, all bloodied up, lied a single rose petal. You looked at the small petal with utter shock and disbelief. You were sure you wouldn't have believed what was laying in front of you, wasn't a figment of your imagination if you hadn't just seen it with your own eyes.

"Gojo.." Your voice trailed as you carefully inspected the foreign object. "...You just coughed up a flower petal..." You continued, your tone full of a mix of worry and confusion.

"Yeah.." The man, finally able to breathe properly again, replied.

"And you're not as freaked out about this as much as I am..?" You inquired, giving the sorcerer a worried look.

"Not really.." He answered, voice far too calm in comparison to yours.

"Okay..? And care to tell me why you coughed up a literal flower just now..??"

Satoru looked back at you, giving you a casual shoulder raise. "Apparently I'm lovesick."

"What?"

___

"I think I understand what's happening to Satoru.." Shoko began, looking at the two of you. After the whole coughing-up-a-flower fiasco, you'd insisted on taking Gojo to go see Shoko again, even if the man had told you that he'd already visited her earlier that morning.

"Cursed energy is derived from negative emotions. Therefore it's not completely unreasonable to assume that the more negative emotions a person feels the more likely they are to produce an excessive amount of cursed energy." She continued, pointing a finger at Gojo. "Satoru's practically already a walking pool of cursed energy so due to his technique, so imagine adding another load onto his already expensive amount."

The two of you listened to the woman speak intently, not wanting to miss a single thing. "Given the nature of the disease, it appears to be manifested whenever strong feelings are accumulated over a long period of time. And given that Gojo's emotionally constipated when it comes to expressing his feelings, the most probable case is that he's been bottling up his emotions for far too long. Causing them to physically manifest into these petals."

"Ouch, didn't have to bruise my ego like that Shoko." The man said, dramatically clutching his chest with faux hurt.

Letting out an amused scoff the woman continued her explanation. "They say that love is the strongest curse after all. And in your case, Satoru. It seems that you've cursed yourself, in a way."

With a worried frown on your face, you glanced over at Gojo, trying your best to study his every move. Despite him having given you a similar explanation as Shoko's, you still couldn't quite bring yourself to actually believe it was true. You'd known Gojo for quite some time now, having worked alongside him since the start of your teaching career here at Tokyo Jujutsu Highschool. And from what you'd witnessed, Satoru was extremely popular with the ladies, so the thought of a woman not returning his feelings sounded like a piece of fiction to you.

"Given the nature of the disease it's only going to get worse from here on out, if not intervened." The woman added after a long pause. "So I'd strongly recommend telling whoever it is you're in love with how you feel. - Even on the off chance that the feelings aren't mutual, it's might help release some of that cursed energy in a form that isn't hemoptysis."

Hearing Ieiri's words made your heart ache.

It was for a selfish reason really..

You felt jealous.. of the person who'd captured Satoru's heart..

Sure, it hurt you seeing the otherwise cheerful man in such a state.. But what hurt you even more was the fact that it was all because of someone who he thought didn't love him back..

You would be lying to yourself if you said that during the five years you had worked alongside the strongest sorcerer of your time, you hadn't developed some feelings for the charismatic man.

Your heart couldn't help but race whenever he was near you, just like you couldn't help the rosy blush that would tint your cheeks red every time he brought you a souvenir from one of his missions, claiming that he'd put much effort and care into finding the "perfect gift for his perfect co-worker".

Now hearing that he was suffering just because he loved someone who didn't reciprocate his feelings made your heart ache.

You had entertained the idea of confessing your feelings towards the blue-eyed man for quite some time now, hoping that there was a chance he might reciprocate them.

But now? All that hope dwindled like a wilting flower.

"I agree with Shoko.." You spoke, gaze glued to somewhere in the distance. "You should voice your feelings.. It'll help you feel better.."

___

It had been approximately five months ever since Satoru had somehow contracted the strange disease. Five months of coughing up petal, after petal covered with his own blood.

What once used to be him coughing up a single petal, two at most on a daily basis, had now escalated to him vomiting five to six petals at a time, at least three times during the day.

Once he'd even spat out a whole flower.

It would've been a far more beautiful sight, had the rose bloom not been covered with his blood, and had his lungs not burned from the act of coughing up the delicate flower.

For five months Satoru had been living his life with the constant ache in his chest. An ache that would not go away no matter what he tried doing.

The idea to use reverse cursed energy on himself had sprung up in his head during the second month. Right around the time when his constant ache was beginning to consume his every waking hour. Rendering the man unable to focus on anything else apart from it.

The first time he'd used cursed energy to heal his wounds, Satoru felt so proud of himself for coming up with such a brilliant idea, that he felt like giving himself a pat on the back as to congratulate himself for such brilliance.

Unfortunately though, his joy was rather shortlived, seeing as it turned out that using cursed energy was not only a temporary solution, but it also brought more problems than it solved. Using RCT on himself only seemed to worsen the effects of that wretched disease. Almost as if it was fanning its flames.

After that, he'd not tried healing himself using reverse cursed technique once more, unless the situation was quite dire.

For five whole months had he watched his body slowly, but surely scum to the disease. He felt like a shell of his former self. Satoru couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to take a proper breath without choking on a blasted flower.

And it only seemed to be getting worse from here out. Exactly like how Shoko had predicted.

He hadn't told you about his feelings, opting to suffer their burden alone, instead of jeopardizing your safety. An act that would eventually end up killing him in the long run.

Tonight was just like any other night. Satoru had returned home after a long day of work, immediately rushing to his bathroom to cough up the petals that were scratching his throat. It felt almost routine at this point. Get home, stain his sink with blood and roses, clean up and then go on about his day.

It was slowly killing him.

Satoru looked at himself in the mirror, eyes sunken and lips covered in blood. He looked more like a vampire than anything else right now. Lifting his hand from the sink, the man picked up one of the coughed up rose blossoms. His movements were soft and gentle, eyes softening slightly as he stared at the delicate flower.

With a pained chuckle he spoke. "I find it hard to believe that such a delicate thing as yourself could manage to wound the greatest sorcerer to ever live." His voice was hoarse from the constant strain his respiratory tracks had to endure.

Satoru didn't know whether he was referring to the flower or you in that moment, and to be completely honest, he didn't really care. This was just a reminder of all the struggles he had to endure in order to keep his title as "The Strongest Sorcerer of The Modern Era".

RING RING

The sound of his phone ringing caught his attention, snapping the young man out of any potential philosophical endeavors for the time being. Resting the rose on his bathroom sink, Satoru exited the bathroom, slowly making his way to the living room where he'd left his phone.

Picking the small object up and looking at the screen, his eyes lit up upon seeing your name pop up. Swiping his finger across the screen, he answered the phone.

"Hey." He said, trying to conceal the obvious hoarseness of his voice. "Need anything?"

"Hi, no uh-" Your voice came from the other line. Despite having seen you earlier today, Satoru found himself missing you even more now that he'd heard your voice. "I just finished doing some baking, but I accidentally ended up making a bit too many sweets. - And since I know you've got quite the sweet tooth I was wondering if you'd mind if I bring you some. Since, I don't want to waste some perfectly good Dorayaki."

Satoru couldn't help but smile at your considerate offer. God, he loved that side of you. So sweet and considerate. He just couldn't get enough. "Sure. I'm in my apartment right now, so you can stop by any time you'd like."

"Really? Great then!" You chimed. He could almost picture the bright smile you had on your face judging by your tone of voice. "I'll be there in twenty- Gotta clean up this mess first." You chuckled and Satoru swore he'd never heard a sound more melodic than this one.

"See you in twenty then." He replied.

"See ya."

___

Approximately twenty minutes after hanging up the call, Satoru heard the doorbell ringing.

That must be her.

Satoru thought. He'd already taken the liberty of cleaning up his little 'mess' in the bathroom. Taking the flower petals and throwing them away in the trash.

He didn't want you to see them. Didn't want to see that worried look upon your face. It would only make his heart ache more if he did.

With long strides, the young man effortlessly made his way to the entrance. Taking a stand at the door, he glanced at himself in the mirror, taking in his paler features with slight annoyance.

Hopefully she won't notice..

Oh but you had noticed. You'd noticed it a long time ago. Noticed his sunken features, the carefully concealed pain in his eyes. It was hard to look at the man you loved slowly suffering like that. All while you're frustratingly unable to do anything to help. All because of some woman..

You were standing there, patiently waiting for Gojo to open the door and let you in. Once you heard some shuffling on the other side you knew it was him and your body stiffened up.

As the door opened you were met with the sight of the milky-haired man, staring back at you with his big blue eyes.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Hi." You replied, suddenly feeling nervous. It wasn't like it was your first time coming over to his place so what was wrong? You'd visited Gojo plenty of times before, and not once had you felt as anxious as you did now. Strange. . .

"Don't just stand there, come in." Satoru said, offering you his signature boyish grin as he stepped aside allowing you to enter inside his luxurious apartment.

With a soft smile on your lips, you stepped inside, immediately opting to take off your shoes before going any further. Holding the bento box filled with Dorayaki in your hands, you followed the man to his living room.

"Make yourself at home." Gojo spoke, taking a step towards you and stretching out his hands in order to take the bento box from your hold.

With a quick nod, you handed him the container, and upon doing so you took a seat on his lavish sofa. Looking around, you took notice of all the little details about his apartment. It came as no surprise to you to find out that Satoru was a well organized man, even outside of work.

His apartment was absolutely spotless every time you'd visited him. You wondered how he'd get all the free time needed to keep everything so neat and tidy, but then again, he was the head of the Gojo-clan after all. And being the head of the top clan in all of Jujutsu Society came with its perks you supposed.

Resting your hands on your thighs, you took in a deep breath, secretly relishing in the room's scent. It smelled like sandalwood mixed in with a hint of that expensive cologne that Gojo would often use.

Or in other words, it smelled exactly like him.

Perfect.

Straightening up at the sound of his approaching footsteps, you instinctively glanced over to the door. Satoru, holding a porcelain plate filled with as many Dorayaki as he could fit, walked over to the table, before setting the plate down on it.

After giving you another grateful compliment for your outstanding work he finally took a seat, right across from you.

Conversation easily flowed after. Satoru was a man who found it easy to hold a conversation with almost anyone. Another attribute many envied him for. He was just so charismatic. And with the way he carried himself you couldn't help but be engaged in whatever he was telling you. Even if it was sometimes the most boring thing you could think of, he made it sound like such a fun topic.

Smiling softly at the man, you studied his features. Has he lost some weight? You thought, taking notice of his more prominent cheekbones. Shifting your gaze, your eyes met with his. Despite still having that same vibrant blue color in them, you couldn't help but notice the dullness behind them. It was like all the life was slowly being drained away from them.

By this point, Satoru had already stopped talking. Sensing your gaze on him his eyes locked with yours. Part of him knew what you were probably thinking. It made him want to look away. Not to let you see what had become of him because of his feelings for you.

And then he felt it.

Just like clockwork, his airways constructed, causing the man to curl down as he began coughing.

As soon as he'd begun coughing, you were up and rushing to his side. "Gojo!" You cried out his name, worry and panic filling your voice as you wracked your brain for anything that you could do to help him.

But nothing came to mind.

And so, you were left just standing there, arms hovering over the man you held so dear in your heart. The feeling of being unable to help the one you loved made you feel sick to the stomach.

A horrible experience, really.

Once the coughing had stopped, you looked at Satoru's bloodied lips, and then at the rose petals scattered across the floor. Staining the carpet red with his blood.

"How are you?" You asked, looking at the man with a worried expression.

"M' fine." He said in a raspy tone, followed by another deep cough. "Don't worry about me."

You frowned at his words. How could you possibly do anything else aside from worry about him when he was in such a state!

"You don't seem so well Gojo.." You spoke up, looking back at the snow-haired man with a gentle look in your eyes. A look that made his heart ache.

"Your condition only seems to have gotten worse as far as I can tell.." Pursing your lips, you paused for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. "I'm just.. Really worried about you.."

Satoru could physically feel his heart breaking as you spoke those words to him. The last thing he'd wanted to hear was that he was the cause of your worry. The whole reason he hadn't told you that he was in love with you was solely for the reason as to not make you feel unhappy.. And yet..

He failed.

"Have you.." You continued, suddenly averting your gaze from his. "Have you told her your feelings yet?.."

A deep silence willed the room after you'd voiced your question. Neither of you spoke for what felt like hours, until Satoru finally broke the silence by answering your question.

"No.. I haven't."

"Why?"

The question left your lips before you could even stop yourself.

Satoru simply looked at you, before answering.

"I can't."

"You can't..?"

What does he mean by that? You thought, unable to find a reasonable explanation for why he simply couldn't confess his feelings to the woman he desired.

"I don't understand.. What's stopping you from telling her how you feel?"

You pressed the matter. If Gojo didn't do anything about his condition he wouldn't make it. And you for one were not planning on losing him any time soon.

Satoru looked back at you, and for a moment, he didn't really know what to tell you. He had no proper answer to give you that wouldn't inevitably reveal what he was trying to hide from you all this time.

"It's.. complicated."

"What is?" Furrowing your brows you looked back at him. "Gojo.. You do realize that not telling her how you feel is slowly killing you. There's no harm in admitting your feelings to her, you know.."

Despite the hurt that saying those words to him caused you, you had to put up with it. If it meant Satoru got to live, you'd happily grin and bear it.

"(Last Name), you don't understand.. I can't just tell her I love her, all right?" Satoru spoke, his voice a little shaken up. "It's not as simple as you think."

He paused, looking off into the distance before continuing once more. "Telling her I love her is only going to make her a target for everyone that's out to get me. I can't risk putting her in danger like that. I won't."

"And even if I do tell her. - There's no guarantee that she feels the same.."

"So what? You're going to accept death?" You spoke, voice cracking at the end. Glossy tears filled your eyes as your lip quivered. "And then what? What about all the people that need you in their life?"

"There are people that care so much about you Gojo!" You exclaimed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "I care about you!"

By this point, you were extremely shaken up. You couldn't believe that he was willing to accept his fate like that! Didn't he know how much he meant to you?

"I love you!"

The words left your mouth before you could even register what was happening. And once you did it was too late.

You could feel the wave of instant regret crashing against your body with such immense force. And Satoru's science wasn't doing you any good either.

I messed up. I messed up real bad.!

The thought went over and over in your head as you stared back at Satoru. He was speechless. That was to be expected after all! Here he was slowly dying and you'd just confessed your love to him!

"G-Gojo I-" You began, unable to find the right words to say to him. "I am so sorry! I-I don't know what came over me, I just-"

"(Last Name)."

"I know that now is hardly the right time to be telling you this but it just slipped!-"

"(Last Name)."

"I mean you've already got so much on your plate and here I am telling you that I-?!"

Your words were cut off by Satoru's lips crashing against yours. A tingling sensation spread across your whole body and your stomach did flips.

Whatever feelings you were experiencing in that moment, Satoru was experiencing tenfold the amount. Hearing that you loved him back was like hearing the loveliest melody known to man. Those simple yet powerful words made his heart race.

You loved him..

You actually loved him.

After a few moments of sharing a kiss with the Gojo Satoru, the man finally pulled away. He looked at you straight in the eye, with his lips slightly parted.

Meanwhile you were just left standing there, completely and utterly speechless.

It took you some time to fully gather your thoughts, but once you did you asked, or more like stated in pure disbelief.

"You.. kissed me?"

"Yeah.." He began, his eyes softening as he focused their gaze on your petite figure." "I did, didn't I..?"

Checks flushed bright red, you looked back at the slender man. "D-Does that mean?-"

Satoru Gojo, had made a promise to himself. A promise that no matter the cost he would be there to protect you. He'd always be there to keep you safe. No matter what.

He knew that what he was about to say would go against his plan. Confessing his feelings would mean putting you in grave danger.

But he'd decided on something else after hearing those three faithful words from your lips.

He'd keep you safe by his side, even if it meant putting his life on the line. That was a risk he was willing to take if it meant getting to kiss your soft lips once more. Or hearing you say you love him too.

He'd do it within the blink of an eye for you.

That he vowed.

"I love you (Name)."

The words were so liberating. The thorns and roses that had been growing inside his lungs vanished into thin air. And finally, after months of pain and anguish, Satoru was finally able to take a breath without the constant reminder that he would forever be alone.

He loved you.

And you loved him back.

What more could a man hope for?

---

Author Note:

Hope you all enjoyed reading :)

The idea sounded much better in my head tbh but I think it turned out okay. TvT

#gojo satoru x reader #romance #jjk #angst with a happy ending #jjk angst #jjk fluff #angst #tw blood #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader

[mmitwcomic]

Update: what happens between chapters 1 & 2?

We reached the end of chapter 1! Yay!! This is another major milestone for me as a webcomic maker, and it feels incredible to be able to say that I've put out this much of a story so far! (as a little fun fact: my first draft of chapter 1 was set to be 90 pages long...I think it's safe to say I've learned a lot about comic panel layouts and better storytelling since then~)

Now that we're here, I'm planning to take a longer break between this chapter and the next, for many reasons! In addition to needing more time to properly finalize and start working on pages for the next chapter, I'll be very busy this summer with other things! If you follow me on my main Cohost page or keep up with my Ko-fi, you'll probably have heard that I'll be participating in dealer's den at a couple conventions! Exciting stuff!

On top of that, I'm experimenting with a new method of taking commissions that may help give me more time to work on the comic. If all goes well, you might start seeing more pages per week in the future! This story has somewhere in the ballpark of 15 or 16 chapters planned, so ideally I'd love to start publishing more at a time so this doesn't take forever!

I've also had more than a few folks suggest opening a Patreon in order to fund the comic, and thus make it sustainable for me to work on it more, and I'm considering it! There's a few logistics that'd need to be worked out, but if it works out then that may also be an option for supporting my work in the near future! (If that's something you're interested in and you have ideas for it, leave a comment so I can gauge interest!)

Chapter 2 will make its appearance sometime in August or September! Stay tuned, things are only gonna get weirder from here~

#mmitw #mmitwcomic #not comic pages #update

[starlit-typewriter]

Genshin SAGAU, Creator of Teyvat, but not Humanity Pt2

I didn't expect such a warm reception, but I'm so glad you guys all liked it!

Your kind words inspired me so much so behold the next part!

Warning for spoilers up to 4.6

Prev Part |

~~~

It all started with a dream.

Well, a lot of things start with dreams, but this one was an actual, asleep in bed, REM cycle dream.

Well, at least you thought it was. But that's neither here nor now. 

It was, to your unending embarrassment about Genshin Impact. 

Now there’s absolutely nothing wrong with likings something so much that you end up dreaming about it, it’s just slightly humiliating when you as a person is not someone who dreams a lot and your first actual proper dream that you can actually remember past the first twenty minutes after waking up is about a fictional 2D character vowing to love and care for you.

Ever so slightly humiliating.

You'd've preferred it if it was an actual person because at least that way you knew you had a crush on a living human being rather than having a parasocial relationship with a giant block of code and text. 

Actually, can you have parasocial relationships with fictional humans?

Not the point,

This started with a series of extremely weird and slightly embarrassing dreams about Iudex Neuvillette.

Actually this started when you C6’d him.

Honestly, you did not expect to get anywhere near this lucky, especially since your past luck has been average to low in terms of wishing for characters.

But with him, 

Well,

It wasn't quite streamer luck, but you did not have to spend any monetary funds to achieve your goal. 

You did have to skip quite a few Fontanian characters, and grind out all the region’s exploration, but you’d say it was well worth it.

The night after you’d gotten that final constellation, you had the aforementioned weird dream.

You weren’t in the dream per say, as you didn’t seem to occupy any physical space, 

you well.

The best way to describe it would be a movie scene. 

You watched as the man, dragon, stood on a balcony. 

The moon’s rays reflecting off of this silver chalice, you could only assume filled with another one of his fancy waters. 

But it was his gaze that caught your attention.

It’s cheesy to say, but you’ve always been drawn to the man’s gaze. It was always so sharp, so intentional.

He knew what he was looking at and he did so with reason.

But now, at this moment.

It was unfocused, hazy. 

His gaze was not focused on the moon, nor the city lights.

He did not stare at the landscape of Fontaine, nor the glittering waters beneath.

But, he saw you.

You don’t know how you knew, but you did.

You didn’t hear what he was saying, nor could you make out the words his mouth was forming but you knew that it was a call, a call for you.

It was odd but flattering and confusing, but a deeper part of you crooned as his sentiments. A part of you you didn’t realize you had was rising to the surface.

“My child,” it crooned, “my dear Hydro Dragon,”

Neuvillette seemed to startle at that.

You knew you didn’t make any sound, you didn’t even have a body, but somehow he heard it, heard you.

His face flushed, hand grasping at his chest as his murmurs seemed to grow faster.

You didn’t know what was going on anymore, simply that this rising feeling in your chest was growing and growing. 

It was scary.

It was alien.

Feelings that were not your own, moments of clarity and nostalgia flash through you, connecting to nothing but faceless figures and a deep sense of regret and loss.

What is happening,

A part of you that you didn’t know about, that you’ve never felt.

Is this what it feels like to be possessed, you recall thinking faintly before sinking into darkness.

~~~

The Iudex of Fontaine stood above all in the courtroom.

With the destruction of the Oratrice Mechanique D’analyse Cardinale, his word and judgment were the last line holding Fountaine to its standard of justice and order.

On paper, he seemed to have it all as the youths may say.

But his identity as the Hydro Dragon may deter from that.

It is already isolating enough to be the Iudex of the nation of Justice and Hydro, but to be the only dragon, were it not something that he had spent his entire lifespan balancing, he feared he could go mad from that.

There is a sense of irony in that.

Focalors's plot put both he and Furina in the highest positions in all of Fountaine, and in turn made them both the most isolated as well.

Although, at least she was released from her duties after the job was done.

While he was and forever will be grateful for her contribution in saving Fountaine, there is a quiet part of him that he’s tried very hard to bury, that is green with envy. 

He understood Focalor’s reasoning, after all, once their act was done Furina would be able to live a normal human life and he would be able to regain his powers and authority as the Hydro Dragon. 

That was as much as she could do for him, from her limited position.

He was grateful.

But,

His brethren, his kin.

They did not have the same freedoms granted to them.

While he did not have many memories of what happened to the previous sovereigns, nor of his life before the arrival of the Primordial one, he knew that they were most likely sealed away, deprived of their rightful power and authority.

It is his duty as the Hydro Dragon to render judgment upon the Usurpers that massacred his brethren and sealed away his kin. To uphold the standard of justice he has worked so hard to maintain during his rule as Iudex of Fontaine.

He once saw a quote in a popular novel that was making the rounds. “To become God is the loneliest achievement of them all,” whilst he does not recall the contents of the book, the sentiment of the line rings true, especially now that he has regained his authority.

While he and Furina did not spend much time together whilst they were performing their duties, she was a constant presence that he knew was always there. Much like a tree you would pass by everyday on your morning commute, or the singing of birds at dawn. An ever present figure whose loss is sudden and to an effect irreplaceable. 

He finds himself missing her, sometimes.

Not that he dares let Sedene and the others know, else they’ll enact some kind of plot to get him to go out and meet more people. 

But there was a comfort in knowing that she, just like him, was alone in their positions and would serve Fontaine to the very end.

Not that he dares disturb her well earned retirement, nor does he wish to retire himself. 

It was simply,

A shame.

The melusines were the closest equivalent to his dragon kin that he has had over the centuries, and will most likely continue to be for many to come. For as much as their presence filled him with happiness, they do not, and he hopes never will, understand what it truly means to be a dragon.

To be the last survivor of the original people of Teyvat, crushed under the heel of the Usurper king and their shades. 

To have to live amongst their people, knowing that while humans are innocent, their creation was built upon the bloodshed and suffering of his people.

There is a unique sense of cruelty in her actions, he reflected, fitting for the successor of one of the usurpers.

Whilst he has no doubt she meant it as an honor, taking him in, raising him to the highest scene of this land, giving him the highest seat of power and eventually returning to him his authority after watching her death.

There were moments, especially when he first took on the mantle and was trying to prove himself worthy of the title, that we would stare out at the people of Fountaine and wonder why he was doing this.

Humans were the reason for the destruction of his people. The Usurper King, sought out this world and destroyed it and it’s civilization so that a new one could be created in place of it. So that humans could be created in place of it. 

Human are the reason why his people, why the dragons were destroyed, they were the reason behind all the suffering and pain his kin have gone through and yet.

Yet they were still innocent.

They did not participate in the war.

They did not ask to be created.

They did not deserve to be punished for the sins of their creator.

However that does not make it any easier to stomach.

There is a peculiar sense of humiliation, to be worshiped alongside those who have destroyed your brethren. To serve and protect the beloved children of those who caused him and his people great harm.

It is a cruel and angry part of him that he does not dwell on much.

He cannot, lest it overrule all his rational sensibilities.

Humans are not inherently cruel beings. They are curious passionate creatures who love and care for each other deeply, who are compassionate and curious at their very core. 

Whilst during his reign as Iudex, he has seen a great deal of human cruelty and evil, he has also witnessed selfless acts of kindness and compassion. 

It is the duality of human nature that strikes him so. He cannot blame them for acts they are innocent of, but neither can he proclaim them to be free of all responsibility.

Truly the most vexing case he has ever dealt with.

Especially since,

Neuvillete frowned as he rubbed at his chest, feeling where the small spark of divine blessing lay within him. 

As the reborn Hydro dragon he does not have access to all the memories of his previous incarnations. As such his knowledge of the previous Dragon Sovereigns and the Creator of Teyvat remains incomplete.

But what he does know, what he does remember, is warmth.

The same warmth that now resides in his chest and on his very self.

He does not remember having many interactions with the creator of Teyvat, knowing that the greatest of interactions lay between the Fromitable Dragon Father himself, and the creator of this great realm. 

 He had assumed that they had abandoned Teyvat, abandoned the dragons. He’d have preferred that to be in case rather than the harrowing alternative of their defeat and possible imprisonment at the hands of the Usurper king.

But deep in his heart he knew that not to be the case.

“A creator cannot abandon their world”, King Nibelung had proclaimed, their Dragon Father was the one who knew the most about their creator after all, he had no reason to dispute such a fact.

 Worlds are much akin to terrariums, whilst on the surface it may seem completely self dependent and a skilled enough botanist may even be able to create one that can last years without any need for direct intervention, but even terrariums need light.

They require the sun to nourish its plants and create the water cycle, for all it may seem self sufficient it requires the energy of the world outside it’s glass container. 

That is very much the situation of Teyvat.

For as much as Teyvat seems to have taken care of itself, the world is breaking. Ley lines disorders have become more and more common, abyssal energy roams around, attaching itself to unsuspecting creatures. Bodies of dead gods spread harmful miasma around, polluting the earth.

If the creator wanted to destroy Teyvat, it would be as simple as cutting off the power of the Leylines, putting out the sun, or any myriad of actions that would destroy this very world.

They did not, instead they still provided this terrarium with bits of light. Enough for it to survive, but not enough to thrive. 

They still cared enough for Teyvat to sustain it, but not enough to intervene when it so clearly was struggling.

The creator he knew was not like that, they took no pleasure in toying around with others.

The only explanation for this was that they lacked the power to give Teyvat the help it so truly required. 

That realization was horrifying.

Nauvillete could only sit and wallow in his own helplessness as he watched the situation in Teyvat decline over the centuries.

Until,

Well,

Until the Traveler,

The witness from beyond the stars.

They have been given a great many titles in their journey through Teyvat, and have undoubtedly more than earned all of them. 

What he did not realize, is that they also had another title, unbeknownst to all.

A title given by a presence beyond all that they’ve encountered.

A title that they most likely did not even know of themselves.

The Creator's ∎∎∎∎

They carried the essence of the creator within them, it was clear they were beloved, it was clear that they were back.

The creator had come back.

And they were kind.

A part of Neuvillette feared that they would be much like King Nibelung, furious and desperate to do anything to drive out those that did not belong on Teyvat.

Perhaps they were at some point, but it seems that that point is not now.

The Traveler that acted with their blessing was kind,

They cared for those around them, human and non-human alike.

But they were not naive, willing to dispense justice upon those who deserved it.

If this was the person the creator chose to represent their will, perhaps their return will be much more peaceful than their disappearance.

Neuvillette had contented himself with that thought back then, throwing himself into his works as he had to deal with the threat that was the prophecy.

Little did he know that with time, the creator would bless him in much the same way.

The same blessing that sits in his chest at this very moment.

It has been months since he had been blessed as well as the completion of the prophecy. A selfish part of him wished that he would receive more since then.

Through his investigation he has seen many others, being blessed just as he had, gaining strength and power beyond their previous limits. 

But they were not dragons.

They were not the creator’s original creation, their children.

Is it unfair for him to hope that he’d be treated differently. 

Perhaps, the age of dragons had long passed already, and humans have dominated so much of this world that it is hard to deny that they are the driving force behind Teyvat.

But still,

He hoped,

He prayed,

Until,

The skies glowed.

Not the stars, mind you,

The sky

It was akin to the opposite of a solar eclipse, the night turning into day.

A surge of energy filled his body.

Not like when he regained his authority, that one was a wave of pure power cascading upon his person, placing responsibilities and burden on his shoulders alike.

This one was kind, gentle, hopeful, excited.

Is this what it feels like to take drugs, Neuvillette thought faintly.

Synth was incredibly popular on the market for its ability to create unprecedented euphoria in its users. If this is what those people felt then he understood why they were willing to go to such methods to achieve this feeling.

“My child,” the power crooned, wrapping itself around him, embracing him with all the tenderness of a loving parent,

His mouth formed the words he could not bring himself to say,

The power purred with reassurance, erasing pains and aches that he didn’t even know he had, before fading from his body.

His arms reached out in desperation, hoping to capture that feeling again to no avail.

Their presence was gone,

But their blessing remained

It certainly remained and it was stronger than ever, this power surge he feels is akin to receiving his full authority once more. 

Whilst many worries and doubts he had about the future still remained, one thing was made clear.

He was beloved, he was wanted, and the creator would keep him safe.

~~~~~~

Let me know what you think! I love reading your comments and feel free to send me asks about it as well!

#genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact

[third-generation-female-warrior]

As we get closer to the finale of the Bad Batch, I'd like to post something that's been in my head for a while.

I want to take an in-dept look at the theme of the show and how I think that shapes the ending.

Firstly, we'll need to look at the theme of the show.

The Bad Batch is a story about a group of rogue clones who must survive the rise of the Empire. Okay, that's what happens, but that's not the theme.

The theme is what the story is about. The lesson you want your audience to walk away with. It is the singular thing that shapes the character arcs and choices, from the protagonists to the antagonists.

I would argue that the theme of the Bad Batch is, "Our strength comes from our individuality and differences" and "We need to make our own choices and let people make their own choices; blind allegiance is the downfall of us all." There's also an ongoing argument about loyalty, but that's a different rant.

From the beginning, it's all been about individuality, and how stripping that away is wrong. The inhibitor chips was the first overarching plot device to further this argument.

The chips take away the individuality of the clones by making them a part of a monolithic hivemind. Gone are the individuals who fought with the Jedi, and in came the Empire. The sterile, uniform Empire where individuality and free thought is treated as dangerous and treacherous.

Our heroes, the titular Bad Batch, retain their individuality and differences and disobedient streak and are celebrated as a virtue, and, for the most part, do not fall into the trappings of becoming the monolith.

Now let's talk about Crosshair, specifically.

Crosshair, however different, fell into the Empire, thinking he was going to be heralded as better and superior than the other clones. His choice to stay with the Empire was a choice at first, but even when it was, this was treated as bad in the narration. Even if it was his choice, he came to ultimate realization that... no, he's not different than the other clones in the eyes of the Empire. He's not treated different or better. He's a number. He's cannon fodder. His blind allegiance almost led to his death (not for the first time (Bracca, anyone?)). It led to Mayday's death as they both realized too late: "We were good soldiers. We followed orders. And for what?"

So the first choice Crosshair makes for himself? The first free choice that he makes that contradicts the blind allegiance?

He shoots the Lieutenant.

And it was great! Narratively, it was treated as the right move because it was!

Okay, it lands him in Tantiss, but through that series of events, it eventually brought him back to his family. He was redeemed.

Moving on, let's look at another interesting character.

Emerie (beloved)

Dr. Emerie Karr, I would argue, is a woman who never had a choice.

I mean, how could she? Shipped off of Kamino, into the clutches of Hemlock?

Look me in the eyes and tell me that you think Hemlock (derogatory) was an affectionate father-figure to Emerie. Yeah, that's what I thought.

Emerie never had a choice. She was not in the battlefield or even with other clones to learn what her free thoughts were. I would argue she was raised to be afraid of the consequences of what Hemlock would do to her if she stepped "out of line" wherever that was when growing up.

She's constantly warning other clones what happens if they don't cooperate with Hemlock. She's constantly held back by her inability to think for herself.

Until Omega.

Time and time again, Emerie regards Omega as her sister in what way she can, in what little vocabulary she has for such a meaning.

Because Omega, Emerie breaks protocol, just in the little way she can, and returns the straw Lula to her. We see the beginnings of the Imperial bonds start to loosen. It's the first crack in the mirror, so to say, when Omega shows her what it could really be like, to have siblings to love, instead of whatever validation she fights to earn from Hemlock. (There's more on that, but again, another rant, another time.)

It keeps going for Emerie, when she's let into the Vault, all coming to a head when she meets Echo.

"I didn't have a choice," she says. "I've heard that before," he retorts, disbelieving.

She has a choice now, is what's not being said. Do the right thing, make a choice, for once in your life. Don't go along with what the doctor wants.

.

So, what's all this to say?

The ending of the Bad Batch will be dictated by the themes of individuality and free will.

It will all come down to a choice.

Omega, the protagonist, will have to make a choice.

Over this season, in Point of No Return especially, Omega sees how relentlessly the Empire hunts for her. Willing to do anything to get there hands on her.

It's this injustice that makes her angry. She can not let people suffer for her sake.

She won't let her brothers get hurt for her sake.

This drives home the foreshadowing of The Harbinger.

How Ventress warns Crosshair and Hunter, that if Omega was Force-Sensitive, she'd need to leave them to be properly trained.

When Ventress tamed a giant beast with the Force.

I know I'm not alone when I say that I think this will work with Omega's recent discovery of the Zillo Beast, in foreshadowing her and the other kids in the Vault using the Force to "reach out" (which Omega couldn't do with the distraction of her brothers) and tame the beast into wrecking the base and eating Hemlock.

With this discovery of abilities, and newfound charge over these young kids, Omega will be faced with a choice.

Stay with the Batch, or leave for them?

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb s3 predictions #tbb meta #tbb omega #omega bad batch #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair #emerie karr #tbb emerie

[wosofanficsforyou]

LOVE YOU (Kyra x reader) 

summary: you and Kyra are out on a date.

Warnings: fluff and kissing

A/n: this is my first fluff! I am actually very happy for this I love it-

You and Kyra have been dating for a few weeks and Kyra thought, for your birthday, you both would go out of a nice dinner date at one of your favorite restaurants. “Babe! Y/n! Happy birthday my love!” Kyra jumps up on your back and hugs you from behind, it’s something you loved her doing. “Thank you my love” you share a short kiss with Kyra and then you two get in the car, but Kyra is driving “babes I thought I was gonna drive?” You asked confused on why you weren’t driving but Kyra was. “I just wanted to let you rest for today” Kyra puts a hand on your thigh and lightly squeezes your leg when she goes around corners “Kyra. Have you ever even drove?” You asked confused and about to laugh at the Same time. “Uhhh no, I mean I have. But not recently” you laugh and lean your head on Kyra shoulder while you two are driving to the restaurant. Kyra and you have been to this restaurant before, but it was when you two first started dating, Kyra loves to do fun things for peoples birthdays or events that happen. But now, she was very happy for you two to be having a date, you two haven’t had a date in 1 month, Kyra personally thinks 1 month is a very long time. You two both arrive at the restaurant and take your seats by a nice worker named Amelia. “What would you two be ordering today?” Amelia asked with a smile on her face. “I would like the water” you look at Kyra and watch as she orders what she wants and what you want, you are just admiring her beauty but you immediately stop when you hear some fans calling your name, once you take pictures with all of them you sit back down. “I love you Kyra” you say proudly, “I love you more babe” you and Kyra kiss for what seemed like a long time and then you two broke away when the waiter came and delivered the food and walked away, after a few minutes you both were done and you both just held hands under the table and texted each other sweet things like, I love you, and you look so pretty. You both were so sweet and the fans noticed that you both were so nice and happy in your relationship. “I love you so much y/n, I know we have only been dating for a few months but I just love you so much…In a few years I will be ready to call you my wife. You’re so beautiful. Happy birthday my love” while you two were walking out of the restaurant Kyra kisses your cheek and you smile, you’re happy that Kyra and you are dating…

#woso fanfics #arsenal #awfc x reader #woso x reader #kyra cooney cross

[lillybearrie]

Hello I would like to remind everyone that the first (technically second if you wanna get really technical but who cares) thing we heard from fable was

"Release Me,

You are free of Enderian, now focus on purpose"

Directed at Icarus

"Now focus on your purpose"????? WHAT HAPPENED TO "HI" "HELLO" "HOW ARE YOU MY SON"

BECAUSE NEWSFLASH SIR THAT'S NOT HOW YOU TALK TO YOUR FUCKING CHILD

THEY AREN'T A FUCKING ROBOT TO TAKE AND CARRY OUT YOUR ORDERS THAT'S YOUR GODDAMN KID!

PEOPLE TREATED SEVEN WITH MORE FAMIARITY AND RESPECT

no offense to seven great guy rip man BUT STILL

Anyway on to actual analysis

After reading this note, several deductions can be made about our antagonist's character right off the bat, which in season 3 we see to be accurate assumptions

First of all the sending of the note "release me" constantly at the beginning of every reset presumably for the past several ones gives us a base line of a few things A) whoever wrote it is trapped B) they really want out C) whomever was to recive the note presumably can help with this D) this person is either very angry and resorting to formal wording as a form of passive aggression or they are simply a very formal person Had this not been the case they would have written "let me out" or "get me out" or even "help me"

Now for the post-corruption portion

"You are free of Enderian"

1) this person knows Enderian 2) This person knows at least of Icarus 3) They intentionally have been sending these to Icarus 4) despite being trapped they have some way to know what is going on 5) their particular view of Enderian is not favorable it's not overtly antagonistic however this is the one part of the not that can be read as at least partially sympathetic to Icarus

Finally "Now focus on your purpose"

1) they don't see Icarus as anything but a means to an end 2) tone wise it feels like both the chastisement of a child and an order to an unthinking being 3) "your purpose" seemingly refers to the prior statement of "release me" either implying that the writer believes Icarus is only here to get them out of wherever they are or that Icarus's sole purpose in life is to aid and assist them and 4) the use of "now" after the previous statement implies they view the corruption arc as simply something that was inhibiting the progression of them being let out

First off once again SIR THAT IS YOUR CHILD YOU MOTHERFUCKER-

In conclusion deductions that can be made from this note with the knowledge that i now hold are as follows: Fable wanted out of purgatory, they issued Icarus with the fulfillment of this task and saw the corruption arc as merely a speed bump on the road of getting his ass outta there. Fable is a pretentious douchebag. Like everyone else in his life Fable is constantly using his own son as a means to achieving his end goal.

Other notes:

Had Fable's motivations not been his underlying obsession with keeping what he believes is "his" even when it disrupts and disregards the rules of the universe and the sanctity of life he likely wouldn't have given 2 shits about Icarus.

If we view Fable's interactions with others through the lense of him thinking of those of the overworld as "his" his people his creations his world then it starts to become clearer that he only sees individuals as tools and for their potential usefulness to him. And if we want to take this view even further we could even say that he at least on some level viewed Alerion giving a place for his deceased mortals to restate something akin to how a child views their sibling stealing a toy from their room, which then implies that the war of the gods is just a big temper tantrum where Fable hurt his brother then his other siblings stepped in and went "hey woah man not cool you can hit Al dude he is literally just playing the game" to which Fable's response was to hurt them as well and now he's just got out of timeout and basically started blaming his parents for everything wrong in his life which is so silly goofy of him until you remember that these were people he was upset about his brother "stealing" from him and it becomes less silly goofy.

"But Lilly!" I hear you say because you've totally read this far, mhm definitely "If he doesn't actually care about the dead people, then why does he act nice? Why is his charisma stat so high?" Well to that I say is it easier to keep someone in one spot when you make them believe this is where they wanna be or when they know the whole truth?

#someone take my Tumblr privileges #why is this so fucking long #and how have i not made this post before?? #once again #thank you for coming to my ted talk #fable when i get you fable #i have hated this man since before we knew for sure that he sent that note because deep down i knew and i wasn't gonna let that slide #Icarus deserves better #so much better #also apologies for how discombobulated this might be i had like 4 separate trains of thought while writing this #so idk how coherent it is #fable smp

[marragurl]

Saxaphone player Gallagher has not left my mind since the jazz night art dropped AND THEN Robin saying Halovian’s innately have good voices and Sunday used to hum lullabies to her as kids happened in the 2.2 special program, and I’m sure you guys can see where my unfortunate Galladay heart is going with this.

Whoever decided to make this art, I love you. I hope your pillow is cool every night, you’re never stuck in traffic, and your water is refreshing with every sip.

Also the art of Sunday with the White Gentlemen drink in the S.P.A.R.K.L.E jazz night event has also spiraled into me delusionally thinking that’s his go to drink. Which is hilarious since Robin has hinted before that he seems to have a massive sweet tooth in her letters.

(Sunday how do you even make holding a drink menacing, Sunday please get some therapy-)

So imagine this:

Pre 2.0 Galladay, where they’re both wary and suspicious of each other but didn’t do anything outright. Sunday slowly began to visit Gallagher’s bar whenever he had time to observe the Hound, initially on the down low just to get a sense of what he was working with and what to keep an eye on. He always gravitated to that one corner booth that every bar had with the most privacy, and just stalked there for a few hours before leaving. (Smol menacing birb in a tree vibes)

Gallagher obviously knew that Sunday was doing this (even though everyone else seemed to somehow completely miss him, Gallagher wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was doing some weird Harmony mind tricks), and after the first few “stakeouts,” he bit the bullet and actually approached the table to engage with Sunday, on the off chance this was some weird “test of loyalty” by the Halovian to see if the Hound would swallow his pride to serve his so-called masters.

Nothing terrible happened, but he remained passive-aggressively polite when serving him, and Sunday remained passive-aggressively cool-headed in response. There was some snark of what dear “sweet-toothed” Sunday would want at a bar, and an icy reply of “aren’t you the master drink smith? Why don’t you show me those skills you boasted about?” which led to Gallagher being petty and giving Sunday the White Gentlemen drink, both for the story behind it being such a metaphor for Sunday, and because it was on the more bitter side of alcoholic drinks.

Sunday wasn’t too against the drink; it wasn’t something he would have ordered if it had been his choice, but it wasn’t a bad drink by any means. He couldn’t help but continue to drink it even after Gallagher left his little hidey booth to go back to the main bar, but he’d never stoop so low as to complement the Hound. Of course, he never ordered anything else from then on, only White Gentleman. In fact, over time it seemed to slowly get better, the flavors grew on him, and he couldn't help but look forward to it during difficult nights in the Dreamscape.

If Gallagher tried to needle him into a different drink, Sunday just bit back a “oh? Admitting defeat? I thought this was your best drink for me?” with a little smirk while Gallagher had to use every bit of self-control to not punch him in the face.

As time went on, the bar slowly became a place Sunday frequented to not quite relax, but to get away from the hustle and bustle of Penacony and his duties as one of its main faces. The stresses slowly started piling up, especially with the Charmony fast approaching in a few months and all that came with it.

Gallagher didn’t seem to loosen up regarding his attitude with Sunday, but he did get better at shoving down the visceral hatred he had for everything to do with The Family and Sunday as time went on. He didn’t get soft with Sunday per se, but he definitely kept an eye out for him, and definitely knew when to cut off his drinks on days where it seemed that Sunday wasn’t all that there for their usual veiled comments towards one another when he went to serve him his drink.

It started small, with Sunday staying later and later until sometimes he was the last one to leave the bar to return to reality. Gallagher wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, still wasn’t quite sure this wasn’t some weird long-term test Sunday was devising, especially since he still seemed to be the same ruthless Family member, the same Head of the Oak Family, when Gallagher was working as a Bloodhound outside the bar. For some reason though, within the enclosed space of this strange sanctuary, it was almost peaceful between the two.

One night, there was something wrong when Sunday entered the bar during Gallagher’s shift. He saw a bit of a crowd near the small stage that was within eyesight of his little hidey booth, it seemed some of the musicians of the live band were arguing? He watched as Gallagher came over, seemed to try to speak with the group before honing in on one of the musicians who had been making the most noise and seemed to be about to get physical with the rest. Sunday watched as Gallagher picked up the musician by the scruff of their suit with one hand and carried them towards the doors and lightly tossed them out.

(It was the first time Sunday had actually seen Gallagher perform anything resembling the actual duty of a Bloodhound. It only hit him that he’d only ever seen the other when giving reports, orders, or at the bar. Why was this so shocking to him, he’d seen the man’s arms before, hard not to with his slovenly dress and messy clothing style, as if he couldn’t bother to hide away his imperfections from the world, not like Sunday who refused to be seen by the world, to dare to show one thing off about himself despite his countless failings- he’s getting far too distracted by one meager showing of strength, focus Sunday)

There had always been a live music segment. Sunday was curious to see what would happen with the band missing a member, but was distracted by Gallagher placing his usual White Gentlemen in front of him before heading back to the musicians without a single word to him. Gallagher took a moment to speak with the rest of the band, who seemed to be coming out of their shock and took on worried looks. Sunday could only watch in muted shock as Gallagher went behind the bar and came back with a case, opening it to reveal a saxophone. He then went on stage with the rest of the group, positioned himself further to the side and in the back amongst the shadows within Sunday’s line of sight, and played with the band for the rest of the night.

Sunday couldn’t look away.

He was frozen as he watched Gallagher seamlessly transition from song to song, taking only small breaks to continue serving the other patrons before heading back in. Sunday only remembered about his own drink when his gloves began to get wet from the ice melting into condensation on his glass.

Something felt off within Sunday, and for the first time since Robin’s debut, he couldn't help humming to the music of the band, music that wasn’t of his own sister’s making. He couldn’t help but remember those little concerts the two would have, taking care of his little sister, his only world. He would do anything to keep the Harmony, to keep their family going. When was the last time they truly spent time together? Before he became the Head of the Oak Family? Before he couldn't recognize his own smile?

He was so lost in his thoughts, in memories he thought he buried, that he didn’t realize that it was once again closing time, and he was once again the last one left. He only snapped out of it when Gallagher came by to grab his empty glass, only quirking a questioning brow at him before heading back to the bar.

Gallagher had been keeping a quiet eye on the Halovian that night from the back of the band, in the shadows he felt the most confront in when in the Dreamscape of Penacony. He had watched Sunday’s eyes glaze over, and the only reason he hadn’t felt offended by the seeming disinterest was the look in the other man’s eyes reminding him of his own when he looked in the mirror. The same look of shame, regret, loss, longing, of the wishes to regain everything he had lost. The same look he strove to hide under every bit of the facade he had crafted of this new self, but came back all too often with every reference of the Family found within his prison in the Dreamscape.

Maybe it was the shared nostalgia within his own heart, that little bit of his true self that he thought died when the Family tore out everything that made him who he was, that made him return behind the bar and begin making Sunday another White Gentlemen, giving Sunday a small nod to beckon him over. He wasn’t expecting anything from it, and he masked his own surprise when Sunday actually left his little shelter to come and take a seat in front of him at the bar. Even while out of it, Gallagher made note of the quiet confidence the other still carried himself. Nothing seemed wrong to anyone else looking at him, only for the lost look in his eyes.

The first time in the many months that they’ve been skirting around each other, and finally they seemed to be face to face.

It was quiet as Gallagher made Sunday his usual drink, a drink he had been slowly changing over the months to be sweeter and sweeter that Sunday never quite seemed to notice, or if he did, he never said anything, only seeming to savor it more each subsequent night. Maybe not even Gallagher noticed his own changes to the drink, subtle as they were.

It was quiet as Sunday took the finished drink, and it was quiet as his eyes slid over the bartop to see the saxophone case laying open with the instrument inside. It was quiet as Gallagher followed his eyes, as he came out from behind the bartop to take the saxophone out and take a seat in a chair only one seat down from Sunday’s. It was quiet as Gallagher began to play to his audience of one.

It was quiet as Sunday quietly hummed along.

It was quiet as they both knew that it would not last.

OK yea so this was all because I heard ‘La vie en rose’ at the end of the Jazz night event and went “Damn I wish that’s Gallagher playing on his Sax” and then we spiraled.

Uh. Idk what it is with me having a small ship moment which then spirals into a full blown writing session. My mind blanked out and as I came to I find out that I made a whole ass little one shot over here then completely forgot about it WHOOPS

So yea, hope my fellow Galladay enjoyers… enjoyed! I think I’ve slowly begun to crave… not domestic or fluff per se from these two, but after every AO3 fic being super dark between them (which I get! They are the toxic yaoi kings of Penacony as of writing this, no one is denying that!) I think I want to see them be explored in a more melancholic sense. Not quite the “forbidden” love angle, but in the “damn we kinda have some parallels, and maybe in another life we could have gotten along but there’s too much baggage and anger, both historically and currently to really even try anything”

I have this feeling this may not be the last time I write about these two… is Galladay going to be the ship that gets me to actually use my AO3 account?

#hsr #honkai star rail #hsr gallagher #hsr sunday #galladay #idk what I’m doing anymore #they’ve kinda taken over my mind #shoutout to that one ao3 fic where both of them go “’this wasn’t supposed to happen’ as they’re making out #that’s the exact vibes I’m feeling when I think about these two pre-relationship #of course we don’t run away from angst in this ship #everything follows exactly up until the 2.1 end credits scene #let’s see what happens in 2.2 #I NEED ANSWERS #ALSO MISHA #I WANNA THROW GALLAGHER AND MISHA’S KINDA WHOLESOME RELATIONSHIP IN HERE TWO #idk wtf is going on there #but until 2.2 explains #Gallagher is misha’s weird drunk uncle/dad figure #it adds more comedy to Galladay whether Sunday knows of/can see Misha or not either way #oof new writing idea #next time #I need to work on tagging #this is just another post all on its own

[bean-bean2000]

The Maid - Part 11

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of violence, depression, mentions of suicide, despair, feeling trapped. Mentions of abuse and rape.

Please read at your own risk. Your own media consumption is not my responsibility. Please read and review the warnings before proceeding.

Thank you and enjoy!

Part 10

Series masterlist Main Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wake to the sun shining in from the small square window and the caws of a raven.

Sitting up slowly, you head directly to the bathroom to bathe. No thoughts have crossed your mind as you’re functioning on autopilot.

You look at your reflection and see nothing. In the deepest parts of your mind you can hear the locked chest rattling and moving to get out, much like Pandora's box, but you push it further.

Not anymore. Just focus on your job. I can’t do this anymore. For your own sanity, push them out.

You get ready for the day and head out to your first destination: the King’s bedroom.

As you perform your duties, it feels as though you’re floating. The world around you seems hazy, almost as if somebody else is controlling your body as you watch through your eyes.

You’re cleaning the room robotically, as you move around sweeping and dusting. You hear nothing besides this constant deep buzzing.

Suddenly you feel a hand wrap around your forearm and makes you turn around. You show no reaction as you’re turned to face Loki, staring at you with squinted eyes.

He’s saying something but you can’t hear until you shake your head out of the haze and focus again. You curtsy low and address him “Hello, my king. How may I be of assistance?”

He stares at you, searching your eyes. “Are you well?” he asks.

“How do you mean, my king?” you reply stoically.

He can’t find that fire behind your eyes that used to burn with defiance, nor that snarkiness he loves to see when you challenge him. He only sees empty eyes staring back at him.

“What happened?” he demands rather than asking.

“I'm unsure what you are referring to, my king. I am simply doing my job, as your maid. I’m doing as you said, your highness. I know my place.” Your eyes look sunken and void of anything.

He frowns at your reply when you turn around and continue your work as he stares at you in confusion and worry.

He steps in front of you “Stop.”

You immediately obey “Yes, my king.” and you stand there waiting for his next order.

He continues to search your eyes, not understanding how a woman with such strong character, the woman he met a few days prior who would rather be beaten than to obey an order, suddenly accept a command so easily.

He sits you down on a chair and analyzes you. He can’t sense any foreign or dark magic on you. There is no curse he can identify. He’s bewildered by your drastic change in character, until he notices this dark purple aura surrounding your body. He doesn’t understand how he hadn’t felt the presence of this magic before, but he quickly realizes that it isn’t foreign. It’s coming from within you.

Thinking out loud he says "You're not supposed to have magic. How is this possible?"

Then, he remembers something his mother had told him years ago when he was a boy:

~~~

"Mother, what do the colours I see around people mean? Everybody has a different one. Why is that?" Young Loki asks.

"My son, those colours are called auras. Everybody has a different aura depending on their type of magic that they have and use. Sometimes, people may have dormant magic, subdued from years of being unused. Those auras, are much different, however. They are usually a deep orange, which can eventually turn into another colour when and if they start using their magic again." The Allmother explains to her eldest child.

"But what about dark purple? I was reading a book in the library that mentioned dark purple auras but I wasn't able to find any details about it." the curious boy questions.

"Dark purple? That is a very rare aura... one I have not seen since our last Great War, centuries ago. A dark purple aura happens when somebody born with magic, has suffered greatly. As a result, their magic is naturally subdued, because the most dangerous and volatile person is one who uses and grows their magic through hate and pain. The dark purple aura reflects the pain and trauma they've endured and almost acts as a warning to others. It is well known by all experts of magic that a dark purple aura cannot be cleared without the affected person healing themselves fully from their trauma." she explains.

"How do you heal them?"

"That is where the issue lays, my sweet boy. Over the years we have learned that this can only happen one way: True love and complete trust. It has been noted that the only thing that can break such pain, sadness and anguish, is unconditional love. Very few cases have been recorded where one with a dark purple aura has found such love and managed to free themselves and accept their true aura, stemming from their true, healed, self." she grabs ahold of her sons hand and guides him through her garden.

"This type of magic is the most powerful and the most difficult to attain as it is not really magic at all. Nobody can simply enchant another to fall in love. The love must be true. This means, it cannot be influenced by any unnatural forces. It cannot be forced or tricked, which is why it is the most difficult ailment to cure, unfortunately. Even more so as times passes because true love has lost its meaning over the years. No book or magical spell can tell you what true love is because there is no singular definition. For a mother, it may be the love she has for her child, for another it may be their significant other, or their sibling...It differs from person to person. Sometimes, an act of true love by the affected person themselves or the one that they love, can break the dark purple aura. Unfortunately, at times, those acts of unconditional love, are fatal; sacrificing yourself for another. True love is a very fragile and fickle thing. Extremely difficult to attain but very easy to break." she sighs sadly as she walks through the mazes of her garden.

Young Loki remained silent the rest of their walk, mind reeling trying to understand what true love really means.

~~~

At that moment he decides to do the one thing he promised himself he would never do without one’s consent.

He places two fingers on your forehead, and you feel a tingle as he begins to read your mind and replay your memories. He starts from last night, with the intention of going back as far as possible to understand who you really are.

When he begins, he can see the box of emotions hidden deep within your subconscious, locked with chains and kept hidden well beyond. He replays your memories in your room and the bathroom.

He pulls back in surprise. “How did you do that?” he asks you.

You do not reply to him and stare blankly through him.

"But... if your magic is supposedly dormant, how are you able to dissociate yourself and psychologically lock your emotions away?... Can I reverse it?" he asks himself, thinking out loud.

He taps once again into your memories and chases after the locked chest hidden in the furthest part of your mind. As he begins to approach it, it moves again, further away every time. Finally, Loki decides to try halting it in its spot with his magic. When he tries to do so, a sudden intense wave of fire scorches around him. Confused, he touches it and to his surprise, he can feel the heat from the fire within your mind. As he tries to step through, a phoenix emerges and screams as it flies at him. He feels the power of the phoenix throw him backwards and he inhales depply as staggers back on the table in his room. He's breathing heavily, heart racing as stares at you in disbelief.

What just happened? Did she throw me out of her mind? How is that possible... that has never happened... Who are you?

"May I resume my work, my king?" you asks monotonously.

Loki shakes his head incredulously and waves his hand in the air "Yes, yes, continue. I must take my leave."

He quickly walks to the door and looks behind his shoulder before leaving, watching you broom the floor as if nothing happened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Please let me know your opinions on the story so far and if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag list:

@gruftiela

@elegantcheesecakecrown

@chxco-hyujin

@cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson

@i-am-amora-the-enchantress

@cakesandtom

@dorck26

@buckitostan

@princessdragon23

@classicsandfantasy

@wolfsmom1

@stardream14

@em0220

@goblingirlsarah

@meow-meowmotherfucker-blog

@huntress-artemiss

@lunazeichnet

@luxky-aish

@jellybeanstacey0519

#fanfic #marvel #angst #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki fanfiction #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki series #loki #fluff #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #magic #asgardians

[umbrellacam]

*steeples fingers and stares at my tablet with gimlet eyes*

so. Road to NML. You mean to tell me that the reason the rest of the country, Congress, and the President himself decided to write Gotham off, blow the bridges, and isolate everyone left - all criminals and asylum lunatics and 'undesirables', of course - was in large part due to *checks notes* a satanic rock star's unnatural, irresistible charisma and cult-like media manipulations aimed at dooming the city for his own benefit?

and that in order to find out what actually happens to this villain, who disappears from the Batman and 'Tec storylines...I'd have to *checks notes* read Azrael's event issues?

....yeah, PASS. I only included JPV's book on my reading list when I absolutely had to (*cough* whenever Cass pops up *cough*), so it's off to the wiki summaries for me!

...but okay, on the one hand I find it very funny how thoroughly fandom has excised this demonic media influencer aspect from the collective consciousness of NML - or at least it had never made its way to me via either fic or fandom posts. I know how few people read comics in general in this fandom, and even for those who do, NML is a Beast that only a percentage have tackled (see: me just starting to pick away at it!), so honestly it's not that surprising.

and like it can easily be left out of the story and still leave it coherent lmao!! One can certainly argue things are in fact neater that way; certainly it's not something that would ever be kept (or at least not in the same form) if NML were adapted to another medium, except as perhaps a normal media demagogue (or a montage of them).

but on the other hand...hmm. Thinking about Hurricane Katrina hitting all of six years after the NML storyline played out. And the debate over whether funds should be used for reconstructing New Orleans and other massively damaged areas. And people around the country wondering if New Orleans would or should be rebuilt at all. Or if a vibrant, historic city would just be basically wiped off the map.

I know this is a conversation that happens everywhere and every time a major disaster wrecks a city. There are always huge fights over disaster aid and funding allocations of any kind.

but man. It's something to see this fictionalized depiction in such close proximity to a real life disaster that paralleled it so strongly, and to know that - yes, there are always people who Do Not Abandon Their Homes and work to reclaim them. Yes, massive amounts of aid (federal and otherwise) and federal reconstruction funding did get dispensed. Yes, people cared, and yes, we rebuilt.

so...maybe we do actually need the demonic social media influencer's evil powers in order to comic book logic explain how everyone in the country turned their backs on Gotham and created No Man's Land.

like - no, it's not necessary. the narrative would work without it. and yet...

the premise imagines - requires? - a significantly more callous, selfish populace. Still plausible and compelling! Possibly even stronger as a story since the turnaround for No Man's Land still hinges on winning the country over to open Gotham back up, let aid in, and rebuild. But. You do have to start from - kind of a bleaker take on humanity?

it also kind of reminds me of what scintillyyy pointed out a few weeks ago about Dick killing the Joker, and how actually there's an important comic book superpower interaction going on there, too, with Rancor present massively amplifying Dick's hate and anger to push him over the edge.

but so few people ever notice or remember that and it certainly isn't one of those things that gets transmitted via fandom osmosis. (It was news to me!!) People focus on Dick breaking down and letting loose solely due to being pushed too far.

and that's extremely compelling on its own! It is! Just like the no-satanic-Nick-Scratch NML.

just thinking about fandom's tendency to ellide the supernatural or powered influences that are canonically affecting a situation, in order to explore/focus on more purely humanistic explanations or motivations...that actually end up being darker than what we might reasonably expect from real life, or from a character's typical values.

like it's part wanting to brush off comic book nonsense, part wanting to dive into gritty realism (that's not always realistic), part not having all the information because of learning things secondhand so you construct the most reasonable explanation...idk it's just interesting.

anyway.

more importantly: Dick and Tim are adorable in 'Tec 727-729!! Especially love them trading off yelling each other's names in fear/alarm, and also trading off protecting each other - Dick's "You hurt that kid and you're gonna be eating through a tube!" and Tim's clever solo rescue of a thoroughly captive Dick via clever use of a voice modulator and a two-way radio. The Boys 😊

#Cam reads comics #hopscotching around between different time periods because violent FOMO yearning for different eras and interactions always strikes #Cam posts

[wolfscarr]

Helluva Broken Narrative and the most useless character..

Disclaimer: Not saying you can't enjoy this show folks. Enjoy it all you want, this is just a rant about the lack of a cohesive narrative!

I really was completely dead on posting, but I just can't get this out of my head.

I feel people should be acknowledging this far more than it has been, this is extremely important. This goes beyond just episode pacing, this goes beyond the characters....this is something that without it? There is no real show, which is....

Helluva Boss has a BROKEN NARRATIVE.

Some fans wanna claim it has this 'complex' writing and I'm sitting here going like "really? Where?"

It doesn't sorry and know why? Because Season 2 of this show, basically broke the narrative that Season 1 was building.

These past posts of mine, will show you why the narrative is broken.

Now can they continue on with the story they are telling? Yes of course they can, but it won't fix the fact that it's not coherent to Season 1, that it's not needed.

Wanna know who the most useless character in the show is now? If you guessed Stolas, you're correct! In the meaning of making Stolas this guy who did nothing wrong and who's sad....they took away his character purpose.

Stolas has ZERO purpose being within the show now, given how things have played out.

But you might say

"Well he's needed to give Blitz the Crystal and end the deal!"

Except....no, he wasn't. They could have just delivered the crystal to I.M.P. They have Blitz’ number, just call him, get a servant to send it etc.

Remembering my posts above, where you can have I.M.P. killing in Hell as a Season 1 thing?

Maybe they're just getting started with their company? So Blitz wants to supplement with killing in Hell by killing those up top so he goes to see about getting an Asmodean Crystal?

See let's backtrack here folks, the episode Oops it was mainly about Blitz and Fizz reconciling right? Which they do at the end of the episode. Now follow this, if we take into account the above, Blitz' dialogue could be.

Blitz: "Fizz look, I know what happened to you was horrible. I don't...expect you to forgive me, but I'm struggling to support myself, my daughter and my employees with my company. I....if you can just think on it, perhaps I could get one of those Asmodean Crystals?"

The scene ends and Fizz goes back to Ozzie, while along the way he's thinking about Blitz' words and how he was saved by him where in the end, Fizz agrees to send Blitz a Crystal because he's earned it from saving his very life.

Or here's another scenario, Blitz has a Crystal from the start(which he took from Verosika when they were dating), but as things get far more hectic up on Earth with more dangers. The Crystal ends up shattering after I.M.P. gets back to Hell after a job, thus Blitz goes to actually confront his past and reconcile with Fizz in order to try and get a new one.

See how easy it is now, to just remove Stolas entirely? They took away a character's purpose of being in the show....that to me, is completely disappointing. Characters, especially those that are suppose to be IMPORTANT, should have a purpose...without that? You may as well just delete them entirely.

Blitz could have had 2 whole Seasons with relating to the past and those that he hurt, that he TRULY hurt(Verosika, Fizz and Barbie) that would actually matter to him as a character. But instead, all these characters are instead shoved to the wayside, for a character who doesn't matter anymore and only actually matters because the writing is FORCING him to matter.

You can write the narrative in so many different ways with what Season 2 gives us, that completely destroys what Season 1 told us. Are we now expected to just....IGNORE AN ENTIRE SEASON?

They can do this whole "sad Stolas is sad and Blitz is hurt and Stolas is going to give him a crystal." Thing all the way to 'try' and fix things, but it'll fix nothing....because the deal between them was retroactively made completely pointless.

The show will continue obviously, but in the back of the minds....it will be a broken narrative and Season 1 is basically buried 6 feet under. As a writer, this really annoys me....because they had how long between Seasons to nail this down? How long have we all waited just in-between episodes? This shouldn't have happened.

Yes, is storytelling hard? Obviously, none of my stories are perfect....but at least the narrative is coherent from beginning to end.

Anyway...I just...had to get this out of my head, because it was really frustrating and I want it to be acknowledged more. The narrative is important folks, if it's broken...that's not a good thing.

I'm still watching this show....if only because I'm knee deep in it now and I still somewhat actually like the characters, but what I don't like...is this broken narrative that is still hanging around with a pointless character that doesn't matter to the show anymore.

Narratives, coherent narratives are important to a story, without it? You don't have characters and you don't have a story.

#helluva boss #helluva critique #helluva boss critical #helluva critical #helluva boss criticism #vivziepop critical #Narratives are the MOST IMPORTANT THING! #helluva boss season 2 #helluva boss season two #helluva boss blitz #anti stolas

[blushydrangea]

25 with planymphia? 🥺🖤

blossoming romance writing prompts: 25. finding comfort in their scent.

Jane knew something was wrong when she closed the door behind her. Everything seemed to be in place, yes, but she trusted her gut feeling when it came to Nymphia.

It wasn’t unusual for their shared apartment to be quiet whenever her girlfriend was left alone — infrequent, but not unusual. Nymphia sometimes chose silence even with her, after a draining day of work or maybe because her thoughts were too loud and she needed to put them in order before coming back to Jane. She would still look for her then and curl on her lap like a cat, answering all conversation starters with hums then nudging Jane’s arm for her to shut up, too.

A silent apartment shouldn’t be enough to worry, yet she still took off her shoes faster than her regular pace, clicking her tongue impatiently when she missed the coat hanger by half an inch and had to pick her jacket up from the floor.

“I’m home!”

Nymphia’s reply of “Jane?” came from their bedroom, and she found herself sprinting there within seconds. There were tears hidden in Nymphia’s voice, a slight extra whine she would recognize in her sleep coming from her girl, and it made Jane nervous. Her girlfriend wasn’t not a crybaby, tears came more naturally to her than they ever could to Jane, but she usually had a good reason to cry.

She found Nymphia on the bed, 80% of her pretty face covered by the red hoodie she had on, one that belonged to Jane and was a personal favorite of hers. Further inspection also showed Nymphia had stolen the blanket Jane wrapped around herself every night, because her girlfriend kept hogging the covers. It was pressed to her chest as if it were a plushie.

Their eyes met, Nymphia’s chocolate color dimmed with flicks of red from crying, her whole face puffy. Jane wrapped her arms around her and kissed the tip of her pink nose, satisfied when it made her girlfriend's tense body relax in her embrace.

She kissed her more, of course, how could she not? A gentle kiss pressed to her forehead after pushing her yellow bangs aside, followed by a peck to her lips and two kisses to her cheeks. Jane would have kissed her for hours, it was actually her plan after coming home from work, except Nymphia’s smile was faltering and she looked ready to talk.

“Can you tell me what happened, baby?” Jane asked in the softest tone she could measure, pulling Nymphia to sit fully on her lap. She watched her girl make herself smaller inside the hoodie and hide her face on her chest, inhaling deeply.

“My mom and I got into a pretty big fight on the phone…” she started, hot tears wetting Jane's uniform shirt. She didn't care. “It was my fault, of course. I can't expect an old lady to change her ways, it's me who should be patient and–” 

“And you are,” Jane interrupted. “Your mom knows that, baby girl. She knows how much you care for her no matter the fights.”

Nymphia stayed on crying, so all Jane did was rub circles on her back and control her tongue. She found herself mere seconds away from telling her that crying over it would not fix a fight, and all she had to do was to wait it out until the next day, when she could message her mother and settle things for once.

If it were anyone else, Jane would have given that advice already, and probably would’ve felt pretty good about herself at that. Not with Nymphia, though, not the sweet, anxious soul she had. She felt things too intensely, couldn't handle not being able to instantly work through a tough situation. Jane had to be patient with her.

“I just wish I didn't lose my temper,” she whispered in a shaky voice after minutes of silence. Jane chuckled when Nymphia pulled a face, thankfully earning her another chuckle in return.

“Well, do you think you can fix it next time? Like, talk to her without losing your mind?” Jane asked in a playful tone.

A soft nod was her response. “There you go, baby. You just gotta wait for the next time you talk.”

Nymphia nodded again, and she took her hand in hers. 

“So, when are you gonna apologize for stealing my favorite hoodie and my blanket?”

The silly accusation made Nymphia laugh out loud, shrugging apologetically in spite of her smile. “M’sorry, they just… You weren’t here and they smell like you, so they make me feel a little bit better.”

If her heart skipped a beat at the adorable confession, it wasn’t anyone’s business. And if she blushed at the thought of her girlfriend needing her this badly, at least she could bury her face in Nymphia’s hair so it wasn’t visible.

“I can cover you in my scent now, if you’ll let me,” she replied quickly and wiggled her eyebrows, her second nature of keeping things unserious kicking in.

Nymphia kicked her leg as Jane’s hands flew to her waist, but when she spoke again, her voice gave away the laughter.

“Evil.”

#for the anon who requested the same prompt too! #mine #planymphia