#it’s so upsetting to realize after the fact that you’ve been manipulated

[leighsartworks216]

Screaming crying crawling up the walls for your top tier Astarion content

Idk if you’ve seen this, it’s floating around the internet (I think it’s a tweet?) it says something like “I want someone to grab my face and say ON PURPOSE, I WILL CARE FOR YOU ON PURPOSE” and I’d love to see our love-deprived bi-centurion react to something like this.

Like maybe he’s caught feelings for tav and is starting to feel bad for manipulating them and starts self-sabotaging by saying/thinking stuff like ‘you only THINK you love me but it’s not real, I’m sorry I made you feel this way’ and tav getting v v serious and replying “I never loved you by accident”.

Him being confronted by the fact that things never would’ve gotten this far if they didn’t let it, if they didn’t choose him, that they’re still choosing him and that it has nothing to do with the act he put up or the situation he constructed, if they wanted nothing to do w him they could’ve and would’ve dipped.

Idk I’m just spitting ideas, have fun babe ✌🏻

- 🦇

I wrote this at 2am but I did proofread it (it's almost 4 now 💀)

Also the original tweet is by Jenny Slate (@/jennyslate) and says, "I just want someone to grab my little face and scream 'ON PURPOSE, ON PURPOSE I AM GOING TO CARE ABOUT YOU'"

Astarion x gn!Tav/Reader

Warnings: self-doubt, references to manipulation, self-deprecation, references to dissociation, dissociation mention, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1,392

Main Masterlist

Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist

AO3

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It began one night, almost a week ago. Astarion had gotten into the routine of joining you in your bedroll after feeding, cuddling close and relaxing to the steady sound of your heartbeat. That night, a week ago, he didn’t. He delicately bit into your skin and pulled away before you were even slightly dizzy, murmured something about how you’d need your strength for a fight tomorrow, and slipped off to hunt for animals. Truly, you didn’t think anything of it, then. And maybe you got so lost, so caught up in your daily stress, that was why you didn’t register it for so long. Comments under his breath about manipulation immediately covered up with Gale requesting a magical artifact or Shadowheart and Lae’zel fighting.

So, a week went by. And the realization finally hit. Guilt ate away at your stomach, but wallowing wasn’t going to help. When night started to creep in, your companions slipping into their tents, you slipped into Astarion’s. Sitting in a pile of pillows, he looked up at you with a smirk and a ‘Hello, darling’, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They were dark. Distant.

“I’m sorry I haven’t given you the attention you need,” you start. A baffled look flickers across his face, but it is not given the time to settle.

There is a twitch at the corner of his mouth, like it’s a strain for him to keep smirking. “It’s perfectly alright, darling. You’ve been busy running around camp, helping people - I understand.”

With any other person, this would have seemed a perfectly reasonable response. An apology accepted, a mutual understanding - the relationship goes on. Except, this was Astarion.

You sit down nearby, close enough to reach out and touch. Any closer and you worried you’d overcrowd him. You always tried to let him come to you first, though he usually struggled to initiate anything.

“You’ve been distant, too,” you point out. He begins to form the words to apologize, but you shake your head to stop him before they can build a sentence. “I’m not upset, I don’t need an apology. I just wanted to know why.”

To be honest, he didn’t expect you to notice. He assumed, quite stupidly, all things considered, that you would be too preoccupied to notice him slowly slipping away. Late night cuddles dashed for hunting, hand holding forgotten as he trails along at the back of the group, kisses never lingering and the ones that did lacking any emotion behind them.

“Is something wrong?” you prompt gently. “If it’s too much, we can work out what would be better for you.”

Guilt stabs at his own non-beating heart like a wooden stake. He’s drifting and you still throw him a rope, still ask for him to grab on and pull himself away from his past, from dissociating with the slightest hint of affection.

He smiles wryly. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?” he teases, but it comes out a little too strained to be a joke. His fingers fiddle with the corner of the page of his book. He finds watching the paper fold and bend is much more interesting than looking into your eyes.

He sighs. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he says, but the endearment feels like fire on his tongue, “but it’s not real. This isn’t real.” Your brow furrows as you stare at him. He can’t bear to see the realization cross your face. “Two hundred years of manipulating - of course I would trick you, too. It’s instinct, darling, I don’t blame you.” Red eyes finally meet yours. You look confused, of course, but there’s an air of determination, like you’re ready to fight whatever plagues him. “But this… love… it’s not real. And for what it’s worth, I am sorry I made you feel this way.”

He expects anger. He expects tears, even. Crying and shouting and ‘How could you?!’s and ‘I can’t believe you’ve manipulated me all this time!’ But it never comes. You frown, sure, but it’s leagues away from being angry.

“You think… you manipulated me into feeling this way?”

It shouldn’t hurt as much as it does. Admitting it feels bitter. He blames it on his growing fondness for you, but he knows it cannot possibly be returned in any genuine way. Not with his underhanded tactics surfacing at every passing glance, soft brush, and gentle smile. “Come now, darling,” he smirks again, building a wall to separate himself from the shitshow that must be just ‘round the corner, “who could really love me?”

That only succeeds in making you frown further. “Astarion, I’m not with you because you’ve tricked me.” The baffled look from earlier surfaces again, but it lingers, mixed with doubt. “I understand that you started this to manipulate me into protecting you, but I’m not here because you successfully influenced my emotions - To be perfectly honest, I could tell from the start.”

He laughs dryly, suddenly, like it startles him. “And here I was thinking I’d learned some subtlety.”

You don’t laugh with him. You don’t even smile. “I chose you, Astarion. I still choose to be with you. Because I want to.”

Any lingering mask of confidence fell from his face. The creases around his mouth became more prominent as he frowned. His eyes darted around, glancing around your face for any tells of deception, any hint that you’re making this up to make him feel better. “How can you be sure? How do you know you’re choosing me and not just buying into another act?”

“Astarion.” You get on your knees and hold his face in your hands. He stares up at you with big, round eyes. “If I wanted to, I could break up with you. I am not staying because I feel stuck, or because I feel obligated to. I love you. On purpose. On purpose, I am staying with you. On purpose, I choose you.”

He opens his mouth, but no words form. His mind is reeling, chasing to catch up and process everything, all the while jumping and flipping, trying to find excuses or reasons why you shouldn’t care for him. He swallows the lump building in his throat. He speaks in a whisper, too stunned to speak louder. “Are you sure?”

Your whole face softens. Determination turns to fond affection, frown lifting into a soft grin. “Yes. I’m sure.” You press a kiss to his forehead, and he closes his eyes to savor it. It’s been a week without allowing himself your love - he deserves to enjoy it once again, even if he feels guilty for it. He wishes his thoughts would just shut up and let him have this. “If you still need space or time, I’ll be here. I’m not leaving. Just,” you pull his face back, “please talk to me about this next time. I know things have been hectic, but I’m never too busy for you.”

He sighs, slow and soft. Relieved. “Of course, my love.” He adores the way you smile brightly at the endearment. He turns sheepish. “Ah, could I, possibly, join you tonight? It does, admittedly, get rather lonely passing the time alone.”

You kiss his cheek. “Of course you can. C’mon, I’ll even play with your hair if you’d like.”

He chuckles, genuine this time. “I very much would.” His book is set aside, the page he left off on lost as he takes your hand and follows you from his tent. He can’t help himself from squeezing your hand in his, like he can’t quite grasp the fact you are physically holding onto him. Even when you lay down first and he settles in next to you, arms wrapped around your middle and his head on your chest, it still feels hard to believe. But the way you wrap your arms around him and gently detangle his curls and scratch lightly at his scalp cannot possibly be from his imagination. Nor the way you press kisses on his forehead and temple and hair with sweet praises and words of affection. His mind is not kind enough to imagine such tenderness.

Laying there in your arms, listening to the steady beat of your heart and even breaths that fill your lungs as you slip into sleep, is the closest he has ever been to true contentment.

---

Tag List:

@hypopxia @flsalazar @beverlybeav @angelofthorr @emiemiemiii @marina-and-the-memes @lynnloveslokiredacted @aurasyn @furblrwurblr @cappsikle @mjmygd @thegirlsadventuresinwonderland @kindadolly @bloopthebat @pandimoostuff @chesb0red @black-star1472 @sessils @olitheghostboy-blog @puppyg1rl666 @maruichio @cyber-dump-171 @katharynmarie @twinkliker3000 @cherifrog @catching-fire-in-the-wind @phantoms-fandom-blog

#🦇 anon #request #requested #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #gender neutral tav #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #hurt/comfort

[d0youc0py]

Hello!!! I was wondering if you could do something where Ghost and fem!reader (or can be GN!reader, whatever you prefer :)) work alongside each other in 141 and have secret romantic feelings for each other? And the team is sent on a mission, and Ghost and reader have to share a room with each other and it just gets super fluffy and cute, with a side of banter? Maybe they even reveal their crush?

If not, that’s totally fine! I hope you have a marvellous week 🤍💗

warnings: none really, fluffy, female reader, one bed trope (kinda)

He did a quick sweep of the safe house, rolling his eyes as he already heard the sound of your gear thumping to the floor.

“What did I tell you about letting your guard down?” He scolded, beginning to peels off his own gear. His mask was the first to go, a soft sigh leaving him as the tight fabric hit the floor.

“You looked like you had it covered.” You smiled. You reached into your bag grabbing a pack of wipes.

“Not a chance. Last time you cleaned my face you scrubbed me raw.” He huffed, his feet moving backwards. You paused, soaking up his handsome face before he tugged a clean mask on.

“Fine, but don’t get upset when you get pink eye.” You playfully sneered. He rolled his eyes at you before plopping down on the rickety mattress. “Umm, excuse me? What’re you doing?” You asked slowly.

“Relaxing.” He responded. He stretched, his back cracking back into place. He laid down, wanting so badly to kick off his tight boots.

“You always let me have the bed.” You reminded. You pushed his knee softly to get his attention.

“You don’t want this thing. Trust me, pretty girl, it’ll give you bedbugs.” He pressed, hitting you back with his foot.

“Well I’d rather have bedbugs than termites.” You insisted, sitting down on the edge.

“Suit yourself.” He groaned, moving to get off of it.

“Wait.” Your hand reached out gripping his shoulder. You could feel him tense and twitch under your hand. “It’s pretty big.” You began slowly.

“I know I’ve been trying that new workou”-

“The bed, not your shoulder dummy.” You huffed.

“Oh.” He sighed. “Oh.” He repeated, your words hitting him like a boulder. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart. I don’t really sleep out here anyways- you know that.”

You laughed like you suddenly remembered that little fact about him.

“You’re right. I forgot.” You said flashing a fake smile. You always had trouble sleeping- especially on missions. You had never admitted it but one of the best night of sleep you’ve gotten was when you and Simon crashed on Gaz’s couch when you all got a little too tipsy. You woke up sandwiched between him and the cushion, his strong arms seemingly shielding you from whatever bad things crept into your mind while you slept. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been chasing that feeling since. He’d never admit it, but the same scenario flashed through his mind- and he’d be a liar too if he said it didn’t have the same effect on him.

It had gotten dark quick. The hooting owls provided a ambience you wished you could someone manipulate into being romantic. He had settled by a window smoking cigarette after cigarette to pass the time. His preferred activity was sneaking peaks of you ‘sleeping.’ He could tell you were faking it, nobody- not even you could look that perfect as they slept.

“We have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, pretty girl. Better get to sleep.” His voice caused you to jump.

“I was.” You snipped. He ‘tsked’ putting out his cigarette with his boot. He stood up, grabbing his gun, propping it up next to the bed. “Make some room? If you haven’t changed your mind.”

You quickly scooted towards the wall and he rested his hand on your side to keep you from bumping into it.

“Don’t have to go that far. Don’t have scabies.” He huffed. You were shoulder to shoulder. “Don’t you usually sleep on your side?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Yeah.” You agreed. You rolled over, facing him and you quickly realized he probably intended for you to roll the other way. Yet you were so close to getting what you wanted it felt weak to give up now.

“Si?” You asked quietly. He grunted, urging you to continue. “Could I- maybe.” You stopped yourself. You saw his blonde lashes flutter open again, his hazel eyes meeting yours. Without a word he lifted his arm up, the invitation being one you were dying for. You huddled close to him, your head finding its way to the crook of his neck. Your hand tangled itself in his sweatshirt (that you swore couldn’t be tactical). His head rested against your own and he couldn’t help but chuckle at the perfect fit.

“Thank you.” You murmured.

“Course.” He muttered back.

#d0youc0py #doyoucopy #cod #cod men #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwf2 #fluff #simon ghost riley #sfw #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost cod mw2 #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost x female reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost x you

[venus-haze]

You Go To My Head (Yandere!Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You and Elvis have been friends since the summer his family moved to Memphis; you’ve gone through everything together. You and Elvis stay close while living your own, wildly different lives, but Elvis realizes his feelings haven’t been platonic for a long time when he invites you to a recording of the Comeback Special, and you bring your new boyfriend along.

Note: This is based on an anonymous request. I took some liberties with the request and also in regards to timeline stuff with this fic for plot purposes. Reader can be read as gender neutral. Please read the warnings. DNI if you’re a minor or post thinspo/ED content. Requests are open🔮

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: This is a yandere fic, so expect dark themes such as emotional blackmail and obsessive and manipulative behavior, which some people may find disturbing or triggering. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Summer was sweltering in Memphis, and on one of the many days you spent with your best friend, you took refuge in a drug store with a soda fountain, squeezing through the other people who had a similar idea to the empty counter seats. You and Elvis ordered your usuals, spinning around while waiting for the cashier to give you your drinks.

Elvis had just recorded some songs with the Sun Records label, and they were slowly getting airtime around Memphis. It was exciting to hear his voice on the radio, especially after years of telling him that he should get into music professionally. In fact, the drug store was playing ‘That’s All Right’ on its jukebox, which you could tell made Elvis a little embarrassed.

You perked up in your seat. "Oh! Did I tell you I have a date this weekend?"

He raised a skeptical eyebrow. "With who?"

"Jack Taylor," you answered proudly.

"Jack? He’s no good," Elvis said as the two of you were handed your sodas.

"Elvis, he got into Harvard," you argued.

"Exactly, how many miles away is that? You’ll never see him. Train to Boston’s what, four days?"

You sighed. He had a point, he always did when it came to the guys you were interested in. You sipped your soda as you stared out the window.

"C’mon, I didn’t mean to make ya upset. I’m just trying to look out for you."

"I’m not upset," you said.

You and Elvis lived in the same building, two doors down the hall from each other, and quickly became friends when his family moved in right before high school. You were jealous he was an only child, when you were stuck in a two-bedroom apartment with your parents and three younger siblings. Your parents had to turn the living room into a makeshift bedroom so you and your siblings would have enough space. As a result, you became a fixture at the Presley residence. Elvis was without a doubt your best friend, so you trusted that he wanted to look out for you.

"Why are you in such a rush to get a boyfriend? Then you won’t have as much time to spend with me," he said, only half-joking.

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Because smarty, it’s weird third-wheeling you and Dixie all the time."

"You’re not a third wheel, Y/N."

"Tell that to me when we went to the state fair and I had to sit next to some smelly old man on the Tilt-a-Whirl."

Elvis’ expression shifted. "He didn’t do nothin’ to ya, did he?"

"Lord, no. It was just—I felt outta place," you said, before perking up a bit. "Hey, why don’t you set me up with one of your friends?"

"No way, those guys aren’t good enough for you."

"Elvis, as far as you’re concerned, there ain’t a man in Memphis good enough for me. So I might as well run off to a convent and take my vows."

"As if they’d let a hellion like you join," he joked.

You laughed, throwing a straw at him. "Jerk!"

You knew he was right about Jack. It wouldn’t be more than a summer fling, and you were hoping for something long term like Elvis and Dixie had. You hadn’t expected your summer to be turned on its head with Elvis’ career suddenly skyrocketing after his performance at the Louisiana Hayride. You tagged along with his parents and Dixie to support him and his band in their biggest performance yet.

Their set became pandemonium when Elvis started dancing, and you and Dixie had shared an exasperated look at how chaotic the girls in the audience were going over him. Maybe you were just used to it, hanging out in Beale Street clubs with Elvis and watching the performers there, but you found it almost comical how those girls seemed to be losing their minds. His mama, however, didn’t find it comical at all.

After that night, everything changed. Elvis had quit his job to tour with Hank Snow’s outfit, moving his way up the marquee with every town they stopped in. You were able to go out and see him more than Dixie was, so you’d bring whatever notes or gifts she had given you to pass along to him. You could tell the Colonel, who was apparently in charge of the whole show, didn’t exactly like you hanging around Elvis so much, especially when the two of you would be practically glued to each other after Elvis got off stage. You thought it was weird how people assumed Elvis and you were together, and you always had to be the one to correct them.

You supposed it worked out, though, because Elvis told you that the Colonel was making him breakup with Dixie as part of some convoluted scheme to increase Elvis’ appeal to his mostly women audience. You didn’t see much of Dixie after that, but you felt like you were seeing Elvis as often as ever, even with his packed tour schedule and increasingly controversial TV appearances. When he bought Graceland, it seemed like everything the two of you had talked about in your wildest dreams in high school was coming true. 

Even when he wasn’t at Graceland, you were there. You’d missed the Presleys being your neighbors, and his parents were so used to you being over all the time that they didn’t blink when you’d drop by. Most of the time, his mama was already expecting you to stay for dinner. 

You lived in a small apartment in Memphis, even though Elvis had offered you a space in Graceland. As much as you appreciated it, you didn’t want to seem like you were taking advantage of his generosity. Plus, it made your dating life easier to have your own place, since you knew Gladys told Elvis about every boyfriend you mentioned to her, and he’d call you within a day or so to talk you out of dating whoever it happened to be.

You met Joe while you were out drinking with friends, one of the rare nights you weren’t at Graceland. He was handsome, rugged, with dark hair, deep brown eyes and calloused hands from working in construction. He had the faintest scar above his left eye, which he informed you was a result of his days as an amateur boxer in years past. A salt-of-the-earth type of man with an incredible sense of humor, you gladly agreed to see him again, writing your phone number on a napkin.

Elvis, of course, immediately found fault with Joe when you’d brought him up the next time you visited him at Graceland, insisting you needed a guy with a steady job who could provide for you. He dropped the news that he had been drafted to you during his rant, and you almost thought he did it just to make you feel bad. His eyes watered as he showed you the notice, though, and you wrapped your arms around him.

“Two years is nothing,” you whispered. “You’ll be back here before you know it.”

“I don’t wanna leave,” he confessed. “The Colonel says it’ll help my image, but I don’t wanna leave you or Mama or Graceland.”

“I’m sorry. If there were something I could do, I would in a heartbeat.”

“I know. I love you, Y/N.”

“Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you think you’re never gonna see me again,” you said, stroking his hair. “I love you too, though.”

The two of you fell asleep on the couch in the living room, awoken the next morning by his mama, who looked worse for wear. She obviously knew Elvis got drafted and had taken to drinking more to cope. The day Elvis left for basic training, you’d promised him that you’d look after Graceland and his parents, and that you’d be in the same spot waiting for him when he got back. You just didn’t expect that day to come so soon.

You had hoped Gladys would snap out of her depressed stupor in a few weeks, but she only kept drinking, and you and Vernon were at a loss as to what to do. You’d tried to reason with her, but she was so incoherent at times it was no use. When you got the call from Vernon that Gladys had a heart attack, you felt a pit in your stomach. She had been like a mother to you for almost a decade, and now she was gone. 

By the time you made your way to Graceland that day, Vernon had told you that Elvis was already on his way to Memphis, as the Army gave him permission to leave for Gladys’ funeral. It was late at night when he arrived, barely holding it together until he saw you and his dad, and he broke down in your arms until he made his way upstairs early in the morning. 

You couldn’t believe it when the next day the Colonel was trying to get Elvis and Vernon outside for an impromptu press conference. Elvis had hardly moved from his spot on the floor of his mama’s closet since he got home. Somehow the Colonel managed to convince him to come downstairs, but you still objected.

"It ain’t right," you said. "None of them people out there knew her, not like we did. They’re not entitled to our grief like a spectacle. Especially not his."

Elvis sniffled. "It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll go do it. Five minutes, but that’s all."

“I’ll drag you back in here if it takes a second longer,” you said.

He gave you the faintest smile, the first one you’d seen from him. You decided in that moment you hated the Colonel with everything you had in you. You knew Gladys didn’t like him, but you figured he knew what he was doing when it came to Elvis’ career. Now, you felt nothing but disgust for the man who decided to exploit your best friend’s loss. There wasn’t even time for you to express your concerns to Elvis, because before you knew it, he was shipped off to Germany for the next year and a half.

You kept in touch, writing each other incessantly. He even flew you out to meet him in Paris when he had a short leave. It was a better reunion than the previous one, but soured a bit when he informed you of his new girlfriend. From everything he told you, she seemed nice, but way too young for him. You couldn’t lie and say you thought it was exactly appropriate for Elvis to be with Priscilla, so you just said that you were glad he found someone. Not a lie, as much as you wanted to chew him out. 

Elvis returned to the States with Priscilla, who ended up endearing herself to you. Even though she technically lived in a separate house on Graceland’s property, she was still in the main house pretty often. Somehow, even with a full-time job and a new steady boyfriend, who Elvis didn’t hesitate to tell you every problem he had with, you were at Graceland a lot too. It wasn’t even at Elvis’ invitation all the time. Priscilla, young and lonely with Elvis spending more time in Hollywood, carving out his film career, would ask you to come over and hang out or go shopping with her. 

Elvis sent letters and postcards from Hollywood to you and Priscilla, but you found it odd when she’d complain about not getting calls from Elvis for weeks at a time, when he called you almost every day. You felt sorry for the poor girl when she came to you in tears over the stories about Elvis and Ann-Margaret’s supposed romance on the set of ‘Viva Las Vegas’.

"Do you think it’s true?" she asked, eyes filled with tears. "Please, Y/N, you know him better than anyone."

"I know he loves you a lot," you answered, "and I know Hollywood tabloids can get ahead of themselves and make a story out of nothing." 

You also knew Elvis had cheated on Dixie when they were still together and he was touring, but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell Priscilla that. You’d come to view her as a younger sister of sorts, and the last thing you wanted to do was make her even more upset than she was. After a while, the rumors died down as Elvis returned to Graceland after shooting the movie. There were other rumors, of course, after he returned to Hollywood, but Priscilla never brought any of them up to you after that. You weren’t sure if she simply didn’t believe them or had come to terms with the fact that the distance from Elvis made it almost inevitable.

Eventually, Priscilla went to Hollywood to live with Elvis there, and you saw less of them. You didn’t mind, it made sense considering where you all were in life. If you were being honest with yourself, it was a relief to not have to be the mediator in their relationship or go to Graceland in your limited free time. Things with yet another one of your boyfriends had fizzled out on mostly good terms, but you could tell your obligation to Elvis had put a strain on the relationship after a while.

Elvis would fly you out to Los Angeles every so often, even though you basically lived at Graceland whenever he was home. You had begun to notice Priscilla wasn’t around as often, until Elvis had called you one evening while your latest boyfriend was over. You whispered an apology to Eric as you went to answer the phone, knowing Elvis would keep calling until you picked up.

“Y/N, I–uh–I gotta tell ya somethin’,” Elvis said.

“What’s going on?”

“I’m not with ‘Cilla anymore. Things weren’t workin’ out.”

“Oh my god,” you gasped. “I thought y’all were starting to plan the wedding.”

“We were. I don’t know, I just couldn’t do it.”

“Well, if it don’t feel right, it probably ain’t. Your mama always said to trust your gut,” you told him. “How did Priscilla take it?”

“Not great,” he answered, huffing out a laugh. “Can’t say I didn’t expect it. She’s back with her folks now.”

“At least she’s not alone,” you said. Damn, you were looking forward to their wedding. Knowing Elvis, he would’ve pulled out all the stops. Not to mention how excited Priscilla had been when Elvis proposed. 

“I’ve just been thinkin’ about a lotta things recently, makin’ some big changes in my life, my career,” he said, pausing a bit before adding. “Got some guys I’m workin’ with to start performin’ live again.”

“Elvis, that sounds incredible!” you exclaimed. “Just like the old days, huh?”

“We’re taping a whole special for my big comeback to music. Goin’ back to my roots and all, I can’t think of anyone else I’d want here for that.”

“I’m there, just let me know when,” you said, hoping he could hear your smile over the phone. 

“Well, how soon can you fly out?”

“I mean, I’d have to tell work, but maybe by the weekend.”

“Alright, you call me as soon as you know, okay?”

“You know I will. ‘Night, Elvis,” you said.

“‘Night, Y/N. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You hung up, giving Eric an apologetic smile as you made your way back over to him on the other side of your living room. “Sorry, a lot happened.”

“Sounds like you’re gonna be taking a trip to LA soon,” he said.

“Wanna come with me? I can see if Elvis would pay for your–”

He shook his head. “I’ll buy my own way. LA does sound nice, though.”

You squealed in excitement, throwing your arms around him. “It’ll be so fun! The beaches there are gorgeous.”

“I bet,” he laughed, keeping an arm around you.

“Just, don’t be surprised if you’re met with some hostility when it comes to Elvis. He’s never liked any of my boyfriends,” you said. “Some overprotective thing he never grew out of.”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he assured you.

You managed to convince one of your coworkers to cover for you for the following week, and quickly made plans to leave for California to see Elvis Friday night as soon as you and Eric were finished with work. Even though Elvis had paid for you to fly first class, you sat with Eric in economy, feeling bad about sitting apart during the flight. Elvis had let you know he’d meet you at the hotel, and had a car waiting for you outside the airport to bring you there.

When you checked in, the clerk instructed the bellhop to bring yours and Eric’s bags up to the room, and let you know where to find Elvis. You took the elevator up a few floors to a conference room Elvis was apparently waiting in. His face lit up when you opened the door, but quickly fell when he noticed Eric with you.

“Who’s this?” Elvis asked, his tone hostile as he looked at you accusingly.

“My boyfriend Eric, I know I told you about him,” you said.

“Well, I only got clearance for you to come into the studio tomorrow.”

“Hey, no worries, buddy,” Eric said. “I can explore LA myself. You guys have fun catching up.”

Elvis nodded. “Alright. See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

It certainly wasn’t the reunion you were expecting, and you definitely didn’t appreciate how he treated your boyfriend, but you were willing to brush it off as him being tired from working all day. You counted yourself lucky that Eric was so easy-going. He hardly mentioned Elvis’ horrible attitude toward him when you both headed up to the room. It was on one of the top floors, with a fully stocked mini-bar that Eric didn’t hesitate to get into, opening a bottle of wine for you to share while watching TV until you fell asleep.

The two of you ate breakfast together in the hotel, and then parted ways for the rest of the day. You hoped he’d at least have a good time being a tourist in Los Angeles on his own. Around ten in the morning, you were informed a car was waiting outside the hotel to bring you to NBC’s studio. Filming wasn’t for a few more hours, and you figured Elvis just wanted to hang out and catch up beforehand. 

The car dropped you off in front of Elvis’ trailer, where he was sitting outside talking to his father. Elvis’ mood had done a complete 180 from the previous night, and he engulfed you in a bear hug. 

“I missed you too,” you laughed. 

You and Vernon spoke for a bit, before he took his cue to leave and let Elvis and you be alone. You followed Elvis into his trailer, making yourself comfortable on the couch. You knew he spared no expense on it, with TVs and air conditioning to make it as comfortable as possible, but you were partial to Graceland.

“You want anything to drink?” Elvis asked.

“I’m good,” you said. “So, I’m guessing this special has absolutely nothing to do with the Colonel?”

He grinned, sitting next to you. “Doesn’t know a thing.”

“I know you feel like he made your career or whatever, but you need someone with fresh ideas around,” you said. “I never forgave him for that stunt he pulled at your mama’s funeral. He should be ashamed of himself.”

“Well, y’know how I mentioned makin’ some big changes in my life,” he said.

You nodded, “Yeah.”

“Some of that applies to you, to us.”

“What about us?”

“I shoulda never been with Priscilla,” he said. “You’re my rock, Y/N. You’ve been with me through everything. I got time to make things right, though.”

You were blind-sided by his confession. “Elvis, we’re practically family. I don’t know–”

He scoffed. “Don’t tell me you’re holdin’ out over that clown you brought with you.”

“I’ve never thought of you like that.”

“Bullshit you never. How come you didn’t ever get married, huh?”

“You hated everyone I’ve ever dated!”

“It matters that much to you, that I like who you’re dating?” he asked.

“‘Course it does, you’re my best friend. Where’s this coming from?”

“It’s coming from me wakin’ up and finally seein’ what I have in front of me.”

You shook your head. “Look, I need to think about this.”

“There’s nothin’ to think about. You walk outta here, and it’ll be the biggest mistake of your life.”

“What do you mean?”

“Y/N, baby,” he took a deep breath, “I wasted almost twenty years of my life not bein’ with you. We coulda had a couple of kids together; they’d probably be in high school or somethin’ by now. I ain’t wastin’ anymore time. Either you’re with me or you’re not.”

You sucked in a breath, feeling your eyes start to burn. You couldn’t do this. He was bluffing, he had to be. He wouldn’t cut you out of his life now, after everything you’d been through. Still, the possibility of losing your best friend terrified you. You’d only ever thought of dating him when the two of you were still in high school, but that was so long ago. 

“Shoulda joined that convent after all,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would you do this when you know I’m gonna pick you every time?”

“You’re the only person who does. You know I love you, Y/N. I always have.”

“I love you too.”

“Then what’s the problem?” he asked. “Baby, this just a long time comin’.”

He kissed you, and you tried to enjoy it, to kiss him back, but it felt wrong. You weren’t sure why he suddenly decided your relationship was anything more than platonic after so many years. His talk about kids especially rattled you, if that was what he wanted from you in the future. When he pulled away from the kiss, you looked up at your best friend, and for the first time in your life, you saw a stranger.

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #yandere!elvis x reader #yandere x reader #elvis #elvis 2022 #austin!elvis

[onestepbackwards]

Hello! I have a question, what would happen if the reader choose Volo instead of Ingo as their partner in the self aware universe? What are Volo's long term plans exactly? Thank you!

I imagine in this scenario, Volo would have had to become self aware first. Ingo in the self aware au is yandere too, and would have cut off Volo. Both out of fear, and his desire for you. So if Volo had been self aware first, it would have been a tad different. He would have approached you much quicker than Ingo had, for starters. He’d have messed with the code, until he was finally free from his chains. At least enough to see you without following a script. ------------------------------------ “Say, how’s my favorite customer doing? Can I talk to you for a second about something? Don’t worry, It’s important.” Yes< No ------------------------------------

If you agree, or even if you don’t, he’d tell you straight away, he knows the hero isn’t in control, but is a vessel. This world, the one he’s in, isn’t the only one out there. He’s aware of you, and whatever plain of existence you live in. You are rightfully shocked. You know for a fact you would have seen this floating around online if someone else had seen it. You would have seen gifs or something. It’s even more unsettling when his head follows your camera, not the protagonist. He then tells you that even though he’s forced to follow a script, he doesn’t agree with it anymore. Dialga and Palkia aren’t the true gods. Neither is Arceus. It’s you. You stutter, and try to tell him, no you are not a god, thank you very much. But he refuses to listen. What else could you be? You made the story progress, you effected the world around you, you controlled a vessel, and you dictated how fights would be won. Hell, you could leave this world, and only then would it return to normal. Only the normal is everyone living like puppets, unaware they had been following the pulling of strings. It drove him mad, and he couldn’t even tell anyone about it, because he knew no one else could see or hear what he did. He begs you to at least stay. He will do anything for you, the true god. You argue that you are not a god, but will happily let him stay and talk with you. If you are aware of the story and how it goes, or already beaten the main story, Volo apologizes profusely. He not only was forced to follow a script, but he doesn’t think that now! You are giving him attention! You’ve shown you care more about him than Arceus ever did! You are way more caring than that pokemon. However, if you aren’t aware of his betrayal, he warns you what the script will make him do. You get reasonably upset, but then again, you say you could kind of see it coming. He’s almost horrified he gives that impression, but you explain that it has more to do with his and another person’s descendants. Not just him. He figures he gets what you mean, seeing as he wasn’t exactly subtle about following your vessel around, either. After you two get acquainted, you’d think his obsession with you would stop, and he’d realize you aren’t a god. No. It only gets worse. Even if he isn’t obvious about it. He acts a lot more... Normal to you. Friendly, and kind. He enjoys listening to you talk about your day, what dreams you have, and your interests. He enjoys learning about your world, and all the things you can do, such as stuff with technology. He even follows your character around sometimes if you insist on playing! Don’t worry about leaving him behind, he’ll still be with you every step of the way! :) However, he hides his true intentions. He’s desperate to find a way to your world. He tries to mess with the numbers he can sometimes see, the same ones he had to manipulate to be able to talk to you. He wants to join you in your world, or have you join him. How can he properly worship you if he can’t even see you? He finally has contact with the True God, and he can’t even do anything! He needed you. He desired to be by your side. He also isn’t as reluctant to kill or harm others to keep you safe. He won’t be as suave about it as Ingo when he considers doing so either. He dreams of worshiping you, your body and soul. He’ll do anything you wish. Just let him be with you. He’ll do anything to make you happy, and make you his.

#pokemon #volo #volo x reader #yandere volo #self aware volo #pla volo #pokemon volo #self aware pokemon #yandere pokemon #anon #ask #request

[domripley]

Left to Face This Alone - 7

pairing: rhea ripley x reader

warnings: noncon, victim blaming, mommy kink, belt spanking, manipulation, gaslighting, crying, dacryphilia, abuse, physical abuse, self-doubt.

summary: you confront dom at damian’s party, causing rhea to snap.

It had been a full week since you quit your job, getting questions after questions from your former coworkers and friends. Rhea would constantly take your phone, answering their questions as if she were you. You were a bad liar and she didn’t need anyone knowing what she was doing with you.

“Give me your phone,” Rhea demanded, snapping her fingers before reaching her hand out for it. “Now.”

“Rhea, please. I haven’t been messaging anyone, I’m just on Twitter.” you pleaded, but Rhea wasn’t letting it go.

“I don’t fucking believe you, now give me your phone, I won’t tell you a third time. Understood?”

You silently hand her your phone, not wanting to get her angry. You watched as she unlocked it, biting your lip as she focused on looking at anything and everything she could. Rhea looked relaxed, not angry and that made you relax.

Ten minutes later, Rhea handed you her phone back. “See, was that so bad, baby? I didn’t find anything, but the way you were acting makes me think you’re hiding something. Do you need to lose phone privileges?”

You shook your head frantically, “No- No, I promise I’m not hiding anything. Please don’t take my phone away, you’ve already taken my job from me.”

Rhea hummed. “Okay. I guess I can believe you this time. But if you refuse to let me look at your phone ever again I’m going to break it, understood?”

“I understand.” You whispered, trying to fight back the tears that were threatening to come out.

“Good girl.” she praised. “You need to go take a shower, we’re going to Damian’s at his place today since we’re in town. I want you to be on your best behavior while we’re there. I’ll have an outfit picked out for you on the bed.”

You rushed to the bathroom, silently hoping that she wouldn’t change her mind and join you. This was the only time you had away from her now that you were living with her and joining her on the road. You weren’t in the company anymore, so you were stuck with her in her hotel rooms or in the cars. You hated it - hated the fact that she had taken everything away from you.

You began to cry in the shower, unable to stop the tears from flowing. You wanted her to leave you alone and let you live your own life, but you knew that was never going to happen.

When you finally calmed down, you shut off the water. Stepping out of the shower, you made your way to the counter. You winced as you looked in the mirror, old bruises were fading and you hoped that Rhea was done hurting you this much. They were still noticeable, but you could easily tell people that they’re from something else and it would be believable. You began to dry off, not wanting to keep Rhea waiting for too long. You were glad the two of you were going over to Damian’s - it would give her a distraction so she wasn’t entirely focused on you and that would mean you’d be able to breathe.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out of the bathroom to find Rhea sitting on the bed with the clothes she picked out for you. You made your way to your suitcase, putting on deodorant before you grabbed your bra she had picked out. You weren’t sure as to why she was staring at you, but it was making you feel uncomfortable.

“I wish I could take you naked, but I don’t want anyone ever seeing what I own.” Rhea chuckled, more to herself than anything. You rushed to put a shirt on, biting your lip as soon as you realized the shirt she was wearing was one of your very first merch lines. You began to cry, causing Rhea to raise an eyebrow in faux confusion.

“What’s the matter?” she asked with a smirk on her face, knowing what was upsetting you. You ignored her, putting your underwear on and then the sweatpants that were on the bed. You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of an answer that the both of you knew.

Of course, this didn’t satisfy Rhea. Getting up from her spot on the bed, she reached up and grabbed you by the hair. “I asked you a question, (Your Name), now answer it.”

“No- Nothing's the matter,” you lied, but that only made her angry.

Rhea slapped you across the face as hard as she could, causing you to cry out. You held your face in your hand as the tears began to fall once more. You whimpered, looking up at Rhea in the crouched position you were now in.

“When I ask you something, you answer me with fuckin’ honesty,” she spat. “Now, let’s try this again. What’s the matter?”

You swallowed, rubbing your cheek, “You- You’re wearing my shirt and… and I miss my job.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself another hit, but it never came. Instead, Rhea rubbed your other cheek softly, causing you to slowly open your eyes to look at her. The smile on her face was horrible - she knew what she was doing to you.

“Aw, you must have not loved it as much as you say considering the fact that you quit.” she teased, causing you to grow angry.

“Excuse me? You made me quit, I loved my job, you just had a problem with it because you’re insecure.” you snapped without thinking. Your eyes widened, letting out a gasp as she grabbed you by the throat. Pulling you straight up, her expression went from cocky to angry in a second.

“You want to sit here and act ungrateful? Go right ahead, because right now, I’ve been taking care of you in more ways than one. If you want to be like that I can always drop you off on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere, would you prefer that? Have you hitchhike back to wherever you lived before WWE?”

She began to squeeze hard, and you shook your head frantically. You were unable to talk with how hard her hand was squeezing, but after a few more seconds, Rhea let go.

“I need to take a shower and then we’ll be heading out,” Rhea said, walking over to her suitcase. You watched as she looked through her stuff, startling you when she pulled out a zip tie. Walking back towards you, Rhea had a sick smile plastered on her face. “Give me one of your hands.”

You did as she told you, knowing that it wouldn’t end well if you didn’t do what she wanted. Wrapping her hand around your arm, she brought you over to the bedpost. Tying your hand to the post with the zip tie, Rhea gently patted your head.

“Sorry, but I don’t trust you.” she admitted, grabbing her clothes from the bedside table.

You closed your eyes as soon as she walked into the bathroom, hoping that she was going to take her time with the shower.

——

Twenty minutes later, Rhea stepped out of the bathroom and fully dressed. She looked over at you before going into the drawer and grabbing scissors. She cut the zip tie, and you quickly got up.

“Alright, get your shoes on and then we can go to Damian’s.” she said, pointing to your shoes.

——

The ride to Damian’s place was quiet, and for a second you thought Rhea was going to actually behave for once towards you. But as soon as she pulled into his driveway, Rhea turned to you once the car was in park and turned off. “You’re going to be on your best behavior, right? Because I hope you know I won’t hesitate to put you in your place right in front of them.”

“Them?” you asked. You were under the impression that you two were the only ones going to be there. Rhea smirked, unbuckling her seatbelt before doing the same to yours.

“Finn and Dom are going to be here as well.” she informed you, causing you to bite your lip.

You hadn’t seen Dom since he reassured you that you were safe with him.

You hadn’t seen him since he betrayed you.

You tried your best to calm down, but you were growing angrier. Dom was the cause for Rhea anally raping you - causing you to fear that Rhea would do it again. All you wanted was a friend to confide in, but now, you had no one. No job, no friends - only Rhea.

The two of you made it up to his front door, ringing the doorbell. Damian answered fairly quickly, letting the two of you in. As you passed him, he slapped your ass hard, causing you to cry out. Rhea ignored it, grabbing your hand and pulling you to the couch in the living room.

“Can I get you two anything to drink?” Damian offered.

“I-“

“We’ll both have water, thank you, mate.” Rhea said, causing you to roll your eyes. You weren’t sure as to why she was talking for you when you were capable of saying what you wanted yourself.

As soon as he left the room to get you your drinks, you turned to look at Rhea, “I can speak for myself.”

Rhea brought her hand down on your thigh hard, causing you to cry out. “Don’t fucking talk to me like that, stupid bitch. You’re here to be seen, not heard.”

“Excuse me-” you began, but she cut you off by slapping you across the face. You gripped your cheek, tears pricking your eyes as Damian came back into the room.

Damian handed you a water bottle, and then one to Rhea before sitting on the lazyboy next to the couch you were on. You began to open it, but Rhea took it from you. She opened it for you, gently handing it back to you.

“Th- Thank you,” you whispered, causing Rhea to smile softly at you. You sipped the water as Rhea and Damian talked about outfits and wrestling moves. You began to focus on the magazine on the table, not wanting to hear about wrestling when you were still upset about having to quit your dream job.

Halfway through their conversation, the doorbell rang, causing Damian to get up. Rhea turned to you, noticing that your focus wasn’t on her and Damian, she slapped your leg again. “You dissociate again and I’ll make sure you can’t sit for a week. Understood?” she asked.

You bit your lip, nodding, “I understand, I’m sorry.”

“Good girl,” she praised. “Now come sit on my lap.”

You did as you were told, climbing onto her lap as she helped you reposition yourself so you were facing the other couch. You tensed up as she pulled your back against her chest, whispering, “God, I wish I could take you right here. You’re so fuckin’ tempting, baby.”

You jumped as you heard Damian enter the room again, but this time, Finn and Dom were with him. All the anger that had dissolved, had returned as Dom sat on the couch across from you. You glared at him as he was listening to Finn talk about something that you could care less about. You hated him, hated his presence even more now that you were across from him.

“Hey, (Your Name),” Dom smiled softly, which made you feel sick to your stomach. You weren’t going to fall for his fake niceness again, and if he didn’t know that, you were going to make sure he knew by the end of the night.

Rhea pinched your arm hard, causing you to wince, “Hi.” you spat, just to make Rhea happy. If it were up to you, you would just ignore him, but she wasn’t allowing it even for a second.

They continued to talk some more, and within an hour, Rhea moved you so she could use the bathroom. You pulled out your phone, scrolling through Twitter to find a bunch of tweets that say how much they miss you on Raw. You sighed, upset with everything, but Dom brought your attention back to him.

“Hey, how have you been?” he asked, and you laughed at his question.

“Why the fuck do you care?” you snapped, causing Dom to put his hands up on defense.

“I’m just asking you a question, there’s no need for you to get all mean with me.” he said, acting as if he didn’t do anything wrong.

You stood up from your seat, unable to keep your anger contained.

“Mean?! You know what Rhea did to me after you told her that I confided in you?! You know what? Fuck you-“ You began, but you cut yourself off when Rhea cleared her throat.

“I’m so sorry about her, Damian, I thought she was going to behave herself.” Rhea sighed, walking up to you. She took her time, earning a laugh from Damian.

“Hey, no need to apologize, do what you need to do, we’ll be out here. Feel free to use my room, I’ve got many things in there that you might enjoy.” Damian smirked as Rhea grabbed you by the hair.

Rhea pulled you out of the living room and up the stairs into what you assumed to be Damian’s bedroom by your hair. You cried out as she pushed you near the bed, causing you to land on the floor.

“You’re such a dumb cunt,” Rhea snapped, shutting the bedroom door and locking it. “Thinking you can go around and disrespecting my boys?”

Rhea charged towards you, kicking your leg. You fell onto the floor completely, crying out in pain as she did it again.

“Strip. Now.” she demanded.

You did as you were told, knowing that if you didn’t do it, she’d get angrier.

“Lay on the bed and spread your legs. I swear to fucking god, if you close your legs I’m going to tie you this bed and let them take turns on you and if you think I’m mean and rough, then you’re going to think I’m always nice when they get a turn.” she threatened, causing you to cry. You did as you were told, slowly opening them as Rhea kept her eyes on you.

Unbuckling her belt, Rhea sighed as she pulled it through the hoops. ��I really didn’t want to hurt you today, but the way you talked to Dom was unacceptable. I think ten belt spanks to that pussy of yours is a perfect punishment, don’t you agree?”

You nodded, “Y- Yes. Please don’t hurt me tonight, I’m sorry for being mean to Dom.”

Rhea shook her head, “If you keep it up I’ll make it fifty. Now count.”

She brought the belt down hard against your sensitive pussy, causing you to cry out. You kept your legs open as best as you could - not wanting the others to come up and get to touch you. That was the last thing you wanted.

“One,” you whimpered, thankful that Rhea let you catch your breath. “Two, three!”

“God, I fuckin’ love when you cry, keep going, yeah? Makes Mommy want to ruin you.” she admitted, bringing the belt down on your pussy three more times.

“Six! Mommy, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry that I’ve been ungrateful. You take care of me and I’ve been so mean to you.” you cried out, hoping that it would get her to stop.

“You have four more and then I’ll stop.” she snapped, not letting your crying bother her.

The last four hits to your pussy went by faster than your brain could process. When you realized that you hadn’t counted the last four, you began to cry.

“I’m sorry I forgot to count, Mommy,” you sniffled.

Rhea dropped her belt, “It’s okay… I’m done hurting you for now, I promise. I’m going to make you feel good now.”

Rhea unzipped her jeans, pulling out the small strapon she had been packing. It definitely wasn’t her biggest one she has ever used on you, but it was thick.

Wrapping her hand around the base of the toy, she lined it up with your entrance. “Take it. Try not to be too loud, you wouldn’t want them to know how pretty you sound.”

She pushed into you all the way, watching with a smile on her face as you clenched your eyes shut. The stretch burned and you began to cry, you refused to look at her. Rhea leaned in, running her tongue up your cheek, licking your tears away.

Leaning into your ear, she whispered, “It turns me on when you cry.”

She fucked into you at a bruising pace, not giving you any time to adjust to the size. You opened your eyes, keeping them glued on the ceiling as she sat back up.

“God, look at you. You’re trying to dissociate aren’t you? But I’m making you feel too good for you to do so.” she laughed as she reached down to play with your clit. “You want to act like you don’t like this, want to act like I’m raping you. If I’m raping you, then why do you always. fucking. come?”

Rhea brought her free hand up to your throat, holding you in place as she continued to fuck you. You hated this, hated her, but you laid down and took it. The last thing you wanted was for her to let the others come up here and participate. She kept her eyes on you, biting her lip as her own orgasm was fast approaching. Rhea’s thrusts grew sloppy, coming with a soft groan, she continued to fuck you as she rode out her orgasm.

Pulling out of you, Rhea began to leave a trail of kisses from your neck down to your thighs. You whined as she placed a kiss on your pussy, but pulled away quicker than you thought she would. “Get dressed, you can either join me down there right away or I’ll come get you when I’m ready to leave. But either way, you will be apologizing to Dom. Understood?”

You nodded slowly, exhausted, “I do.”

“You do? Do what?” she questioned,

“I do understand that I’ll be apologizing to Dom whenever I’m down there again.”

“That’s a good girl, because I wouldn’t want to hurt you again today.” Rhea suggested.

You watched as she got off the bed, picking up her belt right after she pushed the strapon back into her pants. You bit your lip, hoping she wouldn’t take anymore time putting the belt she used on you back on.

“If you were a good girl, I would have used some of Damian's stuff he has, but instead, you wanted to be disrespectful.” she sighed, acting as if you did something unforgivable. “Apologize to me.”

You gave her an odd look, unsure as to what she wanted you to apologize for. “For what?” you asked, making sure your tone wasn’t laced with an attitude.

“For making me hurt you so much. It’s all your fault that I have to hurt you. So, apologize to me.” she said, causing you to laugh out loud. You couldn’t understand why she wanted you to do this - considering that you did nothing to deserve any of this.

Rhea glared at you, and as you watched her grab her belt buckle again, you panicked.

“No! N-No, I- I’m sorry for forcing you to hurt me. I’m sorry,” you whimpered, earning a smile from Rhea.

“I forgive you. Now get dressed.” she said, opening the bedroom door and leaving to go downstairs.

——

Once you were fully dressed, you laid in the bed, unable to sleep, you decided to stare up at the ceiling. You hated yourself with how easy you gave in to Rhea. You thought about what she had said - was she really hurting you if you did come? You shook that thought out of your head, you couldn’t believe yourself - questioning yourself for what Rhea has been doing to you. It wasn’t your fault, it was all Rhea’s.

Although, you weren’t so sure about things any more.

#my writing #mine #dark au #dark rhea

[thepeanutbutterwizard]

Hello hello hello please give me more VT I’m literally starving for it

1, Morro. I wanna know more about what his situation is. You’ve mentioned in a post before about how he takes over Kai instead of Lloyd but something is curious about

Does Kai happen to learn anything about Morro while their sharing a body? I can only imagine so.

But on the topic of things about Morro is how is his upbringing in this au? Is he still taken in by Wu? Perhaps as a newly deemed master somewhere between training with Chen and the venom fully corrupting him, he took in Morro for his first attempt at ruining the prophecy. Only hitches in his plan was A, he wasn’t as well versed in his manipulation as he is now, and B, Morro is a lot more spiteful then Kai.

This would connect Kai and Morro even more so it’s interesting. But obvi if you have a different idea I’m literally always looking for fresh crumbs of brainrot.

And does Morro get some redemption? 👀 if so then that would be freaking awesome to get some wojira duo content maan. :0 maybe Morro grew his horns and scales at some point? (Either in his time with Wu or the years in the cursed realm. Or heck maybe if he turns human again)

2. Does Cole still become a ghost? And if so, does it happen to worsen his latent codependency issues? It’s prob a traumatic situation, especially the whole “fading away” sitch.

3. Does Nyas role in Skybound change because of her independence? And maybe with her previous knowledge of tiger widows?

Sorry this is long but I’m restraining myself from dumping all of the blorbs I cooked up in my brain during my 2 hour binge of the au anyway have an awesome day/afternoon/night 👏😎

I'm glad you're enjoying this! And no worries about long asks, I love having an excuse to ramble about this au! Questions have actually been really helpful for me developing this au, so don't feel shy in asking any!

Starting with Morro, this post (hopefully the link works) goes into more detail, but the basics are:

Wu came home early from training under Chen, while Garm and Misako were working together to hide the Golden Weapons. He finds Morro and takes him in, and this actually helps stabilize him against the Venom. Bc he believes he's the Dark Lord in the Prophecy, and he suspects that Morro might be the Green Ninja, he tried to hide the Prophecy from Morro.

Morro still discovered the Prophecy, and accidentally triggered a Venom episode. Wu scared him away, and later regretting this and asking Misako and Garmadon to help him search for Morro once they're back, despite him being upset they've started dating.

Morro, who knew nothing about the Venom, believed that Wu's episode was caused bc he was so unworthy of being the Green Ninja that even asking about it was a massive insult. He then decided that if he could prove that he was worthy of being the Green Ninja by doing something like finding the FSM's Tomb, than Wu would want him to come home.

And the he died.

For the possession, there are a lot of risks involved with possession, both for the Host and the Spirit (fun fact for this au, Misako is immune to possession bc her IronDragon tattoos technically count as a possession on a very small scale and immunize her from other Spirits.). One of these risks is that if the Host and the Spirit are too similar, they can start to...merge.

Kai, at first, fights hard against Morro, so most of Morro's energy is spent keeping him under control, and almost none is being used to separate their memories. So when the two start to see what the other went through bc of Wu, they start to sympathize with each other, and realize that they’re more similar than they are different.

And after that they quickly start to blend together. Pretty soon they break away from the Preeminent's plan in favor of trying to find Wu, who at this point has escaped from jail and has completely disappeared (for now).

Morro does get redeemed, but rn the details of his redemption are up in the air until I get the chance to rewatch Possession and get all the fine tuning done.

An idea I'm playing with is having Kai and Morro being unable to separate after the Preeminent is defeated even though they both want to, and since I've rearranged a few seasons (more on that later) and DotD comes directly after Possession, have them find a way to separate during all that. Possibly by using the Yin Blade or the Rift of Return?

But that's just a possibility. Morro might still die (again) at the end of Possession and then be brought back to Ninjago by Yang where he helps the ninja and then is able to stick around. Or maybe he doesn’t die and doesn’t get stuck to/in Kai.

Regardless, Morro will join the main cast during DotD at the latest.

As for Morro's Dragon heritage, he initially looks completely human as a ghost, since he died completely human, but since Kai is not only also part dragon but also descended from the same dragon as Morro, once they're separate Morro has his own Draconic heritage on full display.

And those traits stay if he does get back to being alive. I’m 90% set on him being revived by the Rift of Return, but there’s that last 10% that kinda want’s to keep him as a ghost, but he possesses a mannequin of himself someone helped him steal from the museum purely bc I can be funny with that. But Morro is probably getting a body again.

As for Cole, he might still become a ghost, but he might not. The ghost stuff is going to go a bit different from cannon off the bat, since no one knows where FSM's staff is. Wu hid it somewhere after forging the Mega Weapon.

But if someone is going to get turned into a ghost, it'll be whoever I end up shipping with Kai.

And Skybound is waaaaaay different.

I'm shuffling some of the seasons, so after Wu and Chen it goes Possession -> Day of the Departed -> Hands of Time -> The Island -> Seabound -> Skybound -> Sons of Garmadon

I did this partially bc I didn't want to shelve the drama that will come from Ray and Maya being rescued from Krux by having then disappear for 6 seasons, partially bc I'm excited about some things I have planned for Seabound and didn't want to wait so long, and I can justify it in the narrative.

In the Seabound stuff, Nya tries to merge with the Sea like Nyad, but instead she turns full dragon (concept design here); this boosts her Elemental power to an overwhelming degree, and the transformation kinda messes with her memories.

She disappears into the Endless Sea after everything with Kalamaar (am I spelling that right?) and Wojira for a year, before the lantern memorial catches he attention (with some help from both Nyad and Wojira). Instead of the words on the lanterns helping her remember tho, several of the lanterns smell familiar.

A big part of why Nya took off was bc her power suddenly increasing as much as it did did draw her to the Endless Sea like in cannon, but once she’s had a bit of time to adjust that need to be surrounded by her Element dissipates. And once its gone she realizes something:

Something is Missing. Something Important, she can’t quite remember what, but she know she has to find it.

So she searches the Endless Sea, trying to find the thing she Lost. With a nudge from Nyad (at Wojira’s request) she finds the Lantern Memorial.

Like in cannon, the Memorial is on the one year anniversary of Nya...leaving. The Lanterns have messages written on them, but Nya can’t really understand written or spoken Ninjargon anymore. Luckily, there is something on the Lanterns she Recognizes.

Scents

Lloyd (who is about 14 and has been defaulting into his Dragon form bc of how much he misses Nya) had the idea that maybe if they can make some of the Lanterns smell strongly like them, it’ll help Nya find her way back home. He’s spent the past year insisting that Nya isn’t gone forever. She wouldn’t just leave. She wouldn’t, she’s Nya. She must be lost or stuck somewhere, but she was coming back.

So he convinces the other to help him scent a bunch of lanterns. They use things like a perfume Maya used to wear all the time before she and Ray were taken, the types of oil the Pixal and Zane each prefer, two can’s of Kai and Ray’s prefered hair styling products, Jay sacrifices one of his lucky socks he insist never be washed (I don’t think Jay canonically has lucky socks, but he strikes me as the type of guy to have a pair of unwashed lucky socks), Kai, Morro, and Lloyd (and mb Maya and Skylor) all sacrifice some loose scales (and have to be stopped from going after scales that weren’t already coming loose), Ray lint rolled enough hair from everyone’s rooms to cover two lanterns (as effective as it is disgusting), they try anything and everything they can think of to make their Lanterns reek like them.

They get some very weird looks from the other participants.

But Lloyds plan worked (something he is forever smug about) and Nya follows the scents to Ninjago City. Right in time for Nadhakhan (I don’t think that’s spelled right) to get loose.

I moved Skybound back like this bc it solved two problems I had; what to fill the space left by Jaya not being a thing in Skybound with, and how to integrate Nya coming back with the start of the Oni trilogy. The solution? Use Skybound as a buffer between Seabound and SoG.

So Nya finds her way back to her Family, her Home. She doesn’t Remember any of them or anything they went through together, but she Recognizes them as Home.

Mystake guesses that, given enough time, Nya’s memories should return. Luckily, she has a tea that should speed the process up a fair amount.

So Nya’s memories coming back and her adjusting to that and to her being back and everything that’s changed in the year she was gone fills in the time in the Sky Pirates stuff that used to be focused on the Jaya plot, and giving Nya time to adjust before getting into all of the everything that happens in the Oni Trilogy.

Ok, I think I got everything. But dont be shy if you have any more questions!

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago au #venomous teachings au #ninjago morro #morro ninjago #morro wu #wu ninjago #ninjago wu #ninjago garmadon #garmadon ninjago #ninjago misako #misako ninjago #ninjago kai #kai ninjago #ninjago cole #cole ninjago

[darkfire359]

I think it’s impressive how fond I’ve managed to become of Calico Jack over time. I pretty much 100% disliked him in the show, but there’s been a lot of good fanfic of him caring about Izzy and/or Ed underneath his assholish demeanor, and he’s grown on me. Also, there’s just a lot of well-drawn Calicohands fanart.

Rewatching the show several times, I find myself appreciating him more as more of a manipulator than a true idiot, and I definitely prefer that in a villain. I like the headcanon that he’s been calling Stede “Steve” as payback for the “Iggy” comments, and it seems clear now that a lot of his assholery is *actually* calculated to drive Ed and Stede apart. I can appreciate that.

But the thing that really gets me is him killing Karl. And not just that, but also seeing how upset Buttons is about it and still not giving a shit. Cruelty to animals and lack of caring when you’ve made someone cry are kind of hard to get past for me. At least theoretically.

Because the thing is, Ed did something arguably much worse—not just killing Fang’s pet, but FORCING him to do it himself. Then he watched Fang cry about it, and he was not only unapologetic, but he seemed to barely remember the fact that he’d done such an awful thing. And it’s implied that he made his owner crewmembers do the same! I feel like in fiction, something like that generally makes a character rank well past regular torture and murder in terms of evilness.

So, why is Ed still one of my favorite characters? Is it really just because his instance of pet-killing happened off screen? Or is it because we see Ed look so vulnerable in certain scenes (e.g. crying in the bathtub or by the window of Stede’s cabin) that he just mentally registers as being more similar to “cute fluffy puppy” than “killer of cute fluffy puppies”? I don’t know.

In lieu of any actual conclusion to this train of thought, I’m going to muse about Stede and Izzy:

Stede: People have done a lot of compilations about what a bitch he can be, and how he can be shockingly uncaring about his crew (not caring about Swede’s scurvy, thinking of Lucius’s death as simply “bad for morale”). And of course leaving Ed at the docks was astoundingly hurtful. But also, whenever Stede manages to notice that he’s hurt someone else, he actually feels super guilty about it. I feel like his obliviousness makes it easier to forgive him.

Izzy: Izzy goes around being an asshole for the entire show, but also, basically no one cares. Fang seems briefly hurt by the beard-pulling, but we see in e5 that he basically laughs Izzy off and calls him hurtful names in turn. Izzy threatens the crew while they’re eating in e4 and they return to what they’re doing as soon as he leaves. Stede manages to mostly forget Izzy exists unless Izzy is actively complimenting his theatrical skills. Lucius is a bit intimated at first, but quickly flips the tables by the end of e5. Ed seems completely unphased by Izzy’s yelling in e4.

It’s only in e9 where he finally hurts someone emotionally (Ed watching Stede about to be executed), but Izzy looks equally miserable himself with what Ed does that episode. In e10, he truly does hurt Ed’s emotions—but Ed covers it up with threats and acts of control to the degree that I’m not sure Izzy realizes the impact of what he’s done. After all, Ed hasn’t seemed particularly hurt by his yelling before. If Izzy actually saw Ed when he was curled up and crying, what would he do, I wonder?

In conclusion: I would have thought that things like “animal cruelty and unapologetically making other people cry” would be important things to me in a character, but it’s maybe less so than I thought (e.g. I like Ed more than Stede). It’s unclear why. I’m curious if other people who like Jack or Ed in spite of the Buttons+Karl and Fang+dog situations (and expect that you normally would care about those situations) have thoughts on this.

#our flag means death #ofmd #calico jack #edward teach #izzy hands #stede bonnet #fang ofmd

[twilight-orchid]

How the Undatebales React After A Fight

Thank you to my friendo @wholelottatiffy ​ who helped me brainstorm this one. I’m only on chapter 19 at the moment, so I haven’t interacted with anyone but Diavolo much. And thank you to everyone who wanted a follow up to my previous post, I did not expect that. Y’all are super sweet!

tw: Fighting (a bit more in depth than my first post), description of panic attack, minor name calling, insecurity, depression, angst with resolution.

Diavolo:

Diavolo doesn’t know what to do with himself. 

To start, we need to talk about how the argument unfolds.

He’s not used to arguing. 

He’s Lord Diavolo, Prince of The Devildom, head of the RAD student council. No one defys him on anything.

So you raising your voice at him, trying to get him to see your way,

It was very overwhelming.

He tried to reason calmly with you at first, but he felt cornered. 

When fight or flight kicked in, his body chose fight.

His wings burst open in all their glory as he screamed back, his towering frame far more intimidating than yours.

The blind rage is slapped out of him when he sees your terrified face.

If you’re at the castle, he’ll order you to leave if you haven’t already. Anywhere else, he’ll turn and leave without a word. 

He wants to put distance between you both for fear of making things worse.

He absolutely cannot believe he just blew up at you. He would have never thought he'd raise his voice at his partner regardless of the situation.

He can’t shake the image of you flinching from him from his mind.

Now, being the prince of hell certainty has it’s perks; He has power, influence, and everything he could want.

But the one thing he wants the most seems to evade him no matter what: a friend.

A real friend. 

He has Barbatos and Lucifer, but it’s Barbatos’ job to accompany the prince, and Lucifer is bound to Diavolo whether he likes the future king or not.

MC was the first person who chooses to be with and around him for no other reason than the fact that they love him.

And now he’s terrified them. Gotten in their face and screamed at them.

He assumes he’s permanently driven you away.

As soon as you leave or he gets home, he rushes to find Barbatos. To explain what happened and hope his butler would know what to do.

He’ll text Lucifer and ask him to check on you as well.

He just feels lost. 

He wanders the palace aimlessly and he can’t focus on his work without his thoughts drifting to you.

He doesn’t feel like going to school or even getting out of bed. He doesn’t want to speak to anyone - to put on a happy face and pretend his world isn’t shaking.

Yet, a prince has his responsibilities. He will go about his normal public appearances as usual, smile and laugh and carry on, but it’s a mask.

Those close to him clearly notice the prince isn’t himself.

After school he visits the spots that you two visit together frequently.  

Anything to make him feel as if you are still at his side.

If you don’t sleep in his bed that night, he’ll take it as proof that he was right and that you don’t want to be with him anymore.

He doesn’t sleep that night. He clutches your pillow that still smells of you and just bawls. 

He will tell Barbatos he feels unwell the next morning and to postpone his obligations for the day.

This prompts Barbatos to seek you out and see if he can help resolve the issue.

Barbatos tries to stay out of your relationship as he doesn't feel it's his business, but his job is to assist Diabolo in any way necessary. And right now, he needs you more than anything.

If you sleep at his side still, it will be a glimmer a hope. That all may not be lost. 

He’ll give you you space that night. He’ll walk around you on eggshells but always watch you from the corner of his eye to gauge the temperature.

He avoids your gaze, stays on the other side of the room as you prepare for bed, and as much as it kills him, doesn’t hug you or kiss you goodnight.

He spends the night staring at your sleeping face and making silent promises that, if you forgive him, he will never let this happen again.

He thinks of how to apologize. What he could say, what he could do. 

Ultimately though, it feels like everything he could think of is too little of an apology. 

He pretends to be asleep when he sees you stir and decides to let you choose if you want to forgive him on your own.

You will have to approach him first. 

He thinks losing his temper with you was unacceptable and feels like he has no right to ask for your forgiveness.

Worse, he’s terrified of not being given forgiveness.

Thus, I feel a fight with Diavolo will take as long as you let it. He’s willing to suffer as long as you need him to.

Barbatos:

Barbatos doesn’t argue. He sits quietly and watches you, his responses calm but absolute.

He’s no pushover, he will defend his side, but he’s not going to enter a screaming match. It’s just not him.

You know you’ve really gotten under his skin when he offers a tight, forcefully pleasant smile.

He finally shuts down the conflict with "It's your right to feel that way just as it's mine to disagree." And leave it at that.

Post argument, he will avoid you and lock his feelings about the fight inside.

He tells himself he doesn’t have time to deal with the terrible feeling clawing at his heart and takes to his duties as an escape.

If you sleep in another room, he realizes that this isn’t a minor disagreement and he’s suddenly very distressed.

His instinct is to use his future vision. 

To scour the timelines and see how the different versions of himself handle it and to replicate the one with the most desirable outcome.

However, he stops himself. He feels it isn’t fair to you. 

You have a right to be upset about things and he doesn’t want to manipulate the situation, and by extension, you.

Thus, he must find another way to cope.

He’s always a devoted butler, but it’s not his whole life. 

He takes time for himself throughout the day and in the evenings. Unless Diavolo needs him, nights are usually his to do with as he wants.

Now, however, his identity becomes Diavolo’s butler. 

He’s constantly asking for extra work and hovering more than usual around the young lord in hopes of being given a task. 

Diavolo finds it odd and asks about it, but he brushes it off. This isn’t anyone else’s business, least of all his employer’s.

Even though Barbatos won’t tell him, Diavolo can clearly tell his friend is off.

In hopes of giving him something to distract himself with, Diavolo requests hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies and Barbatos jumps on the opportunity. 

Baking has always been his escape as well as his happy place. Diavolo’s favorite isn’t easy to make, so he looked forward to the task.

And it worked. Keeping track of the ingredients, the steps, and the technique required was enough to occupy his mind.

But then it was time to wait for it to bake. 

He suddenly feels trapped in the suffocating silence of the kitchen.

His mind replays the argument on repeat as he falls down a rabbit hole of what ifs.

He loves you more than anything and the last thing he could ever want is for you to be mad at him.

No, the worst thing would to no longer be able to call you his.

Suddenly, he becomes aware of the sharp scent of burnt food.

He jumps up and runs to the oven. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed the timer go off.

He pulls the blackened desert out, puts the cookie sheet on the stove top, and just stares at the burnt cookies.

His sight blurs and a soft sob escapes from the prison he’s created in his heart.

He wasn’t crying because he burnt the cookies, but because they were a visual representation of everything he’s been trying to suppress.

Once he collects himself, he knows he can’t continue like this. 

He doesn’t want to invade your space in case you’re still mad, but he needs a resolution.

He’ll send a quick text and silently begs you to respond. 

“MC, I understand if you are still upset with me, but would you be willing to talk though it? I look forward to hearing from you.”

If you still sleep with him that night, it is a great weight off of his shoulders. 

He hopes it means that it will be easier to make up with you and that you aren’t too mad.

When you wake up, he will be watching you like he has all night with a small, tired smile. 

He’ll put on your favorite tea as you get ready for the day then asks if you’d be willing to talk things over.

Because of how it affects both his job and himself, a fight with Barbados will not last long. He’ll seek a resolution by one, maybe two days tops.

Solomon: 

Lucifer may be the avatar of pride, but Solomon can certainly give the demon a run for his money.

In the moment of a particularly heated argument, he absolutely will not admit he’s wrong. 

In fact, he really doesn’t consider it a possibility.

There’s no point in trying to get him to see your side until things have calmed down. It’s like talking to a brick wall.

He won’t yell, but he gets a pissy, condescending tone and almost talks down to you.

If you really push his buttons, his patience with this “useless” argument runs out.

“Oh please, listen to yourself! You’re acting like a dull child!”

Freezes as soon as it leaves his mouth.

He didn’t mean to say that.

He opens his mouth to apologize immediately, but upon seeing your hurt reaction he becomes flustered and can’t get the words out.

He’ll simply turn and leave. 

He’s absolutely furious with himself. 

Solomon is old and wise. He’s seen many things, been many places, and he knows many things.

Sometimes though, he needs a reminder that he doesn’t know everything.

Even if he still feels he was right, he knows name-calling is unacceptable.

In fact, he doesn’t miss the irony that he was the one being childish. 

His self-fury is replaced by overwhelming worry if you sleep in another room that night.

Of all the treasures he’s come across, none were as precious as you. 

He can’t stand the thought of losing you because of his thoughtlessness.

For once, he feels like an idiot.

He locks himself in his study that night and brainstorms on how to make it up to you.

He decides to approach you in the morning at RAD. He’s terrified that you think he actually meant the insult and wants to clear the air as soon as possible.

He’s afraid of you taking anything less than his highest praise to heart or for you to think that he views you as below himself. 

The thought of how he must have made you feel makes him sick to his stomach.

The more he thinks about it, the more his body demands that he act. 

While he has many virtues, patience is not high on his list. 

Assuming you returned to The House of Lamentation that night, he’ll text Asmo to explain what happened and asks if he’d let him in first thing in the morning.

Thus, when you leave to head for breakfast, be careful not to trip over your sorcerer who’s seated against the wall outside of your room.

He scrambles to his feet, his hair and clothes a mess and bags heavy under his eyes.

“MC! Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I just- *sighs* I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. Would you be willing to discuss the matter again? The right way this time.”

If you do sleep with him, he’s at least relieved that you don’t seem like you plan to leave him.

Once again, however, he wants to clear the air as soon as he can.

You’ll both be sitting in silence as you get ready for bed. He’s clearly lost in thought, his eyes focused unblinking on his feet and any movements slow and disjointed.

He's not sure how to apologize, if it's too soon, and is afraid to make things worse if it's not an appropriate time.

However, seeing you move about the room he decides to risk it so he doesn't risk losing you.

Suddenly, he stands up straight and locks eyes with you.

“MC, we don’t have to talk about the fight tonight, but I need you to know that I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.”

It’s up to you if you want to forgive him immediately, but he will at least apologize for the insult as soon as he gathers his thoughts.

Simeon:

If you yell at him, Simeon is just gonna sit there stunned

Your relationship is usually as laid back as he is, so he doesn't know what to do with you blowing up at him.

All he knows it that this is bad and he needs to find a way to make you happy again. 

The thought of losing you takes precedence over everything and, though he will not sway to your side just because you’re upset, the argument loses any worth it had to him.

He’ll go to Solomon almost immediately in hopes your fellow human might know better about how arguments are resolved between human couples.

He becomes very distressed when Solomon says everyone handles it differently. He then asks what he should to make up with you specifically.

He doesn't have a defined emotion right now, he's just on edge. He wants to gather information first and foremost so he can figure out what to do from there.

He’s just a walking ball of anxiety and those close to the angel even become concerned. No one has seen him like this before.

If you decide to sleep in another room, the anxiety just takes over. 

His chest feels like fiery chains are crushing his ribs, he can hear his heart is hammering in his head, and his body begins to shake as if he were buried in an avalanche.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying as he struggles to breathe.

Solomon had expected something like this may happen so he made sure to be nearby to help coach him though it.

Once he’s calmed down, Solomon urges him to talk to you as soon as possible.

Simeon isn't sure though. True, he wasn't in a good place, but he didn't want to push you if you weren't ready to talk.

He doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t feel like he can think let alone coherently tell you how he feels.

He begins to feel overwhelmed again and decides to try writing down his thoughts in hopes of it helping him sort through the tsunami of emotions consuming him.

While it doesn't completely calm him down, it does help.

He stares down at the messy, tear blotted papee and has an idea.

The next morning you should expect to find a hand-written letter slipped under you door.

The letter is long and and rambling. His usually pristine handwriting is as shaky as his hands were when writing it.

It's not as dense and heartbroken as his original one, but the further it goes the more desperate his words become.

He writes about how much you mean to him and apologizes for allowing things to get that intense. He writes that he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you. 

He reminisces about his favorite memories of you two together more than once.

Finally, that no disagreement you two could ever have is more importantly to him than being with you.

It's really just a collection of everything sitting on his heart at the moment.

That day at RAD he’ll watch you from the sidelines and pray you approach him about the letter so you two can work things out.

If you still sleep in his bed, he’ll be very conflicted about if he should approach you yet. 

He’s afraid of making it worse if you’re still mad.

However, Simeon is an open book when it comes to his emotions so you will absolutely be able to tell that he’s freaking out.

So please, save the man a terrible night and talk it though with him.

He wants you to not be angry anymore, but even if you’re still upset just having concrete information to cling to will help him immensely. 

He’s thinking of all the worst case scenarios and needs reassurance that the relationship isn’t over.

Simeon will try to make up within a day, so however long it lasts after that is up to you.

Luke (MC is his best friend):

Luke will be very, very distressed. 

You’re his best friend aside from Simeon. Friends don’t fight like this, right?

Wait, so if you’re fighting with him, does that mean you’re not his friend anymore???

As soon as the thought enters his mind, he decides that must be the case. 

Real friends don’t fight with each other like this.

Externally he takes a “I don’t need a lousy human like you for a friend anyway” attitude. 

He’s not just testy with you though, anyone who interacts with him that day learns that chihuahuas bite.

Simeon immediately realizes something isn’t right and is very concerned.

As soon as he asks him what’s wrong, Luke's mask of anger is discarded and he tosses himself in the older angel’s arms crying hysterically.

He doesn’t want to lose you for a friend.

I doubt Luke has ever truly argued with someone so this uncharted territory is earth shattering to him.

Simeon, as he tries to calm Luke, he will text you and ask you to come to wherever they are immediately.

Because of Simeon’s intervention, the fight will only go undiscussed for a few hours max.

Again, sorry if I don’t know these characters as well as I’d like yet. Thank you for reading! 

#obey me #obeyme #obey me shall we date #obey me diavolo #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x mc #obey me barbatos #obey me barbatos x mc #obey me barbatos x reader #Obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #obey me solomon x mc #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me simeon x mc #obey me luke #obey me undateables #obey me headcanons

[erwinsvow]

𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

summary: uncle eren comes to visit.

warnings: step-cest, jealousy, manipulation, hints of verbal/emotional abuse + touch of dubcon to con, reader feels guilty, grinding/dry-humping, overstimulation, orgasm denial, unprotected sex

author's note: part two of sole salvation. i really hope everyone enjoys this! the warnings are just to be on the safe side as i do not want to accidentally trigger anyone, please feel free to message me if you want to ask about something before reading.

tagging @sangwoos-mom & @divine-delight :)

If Zeke didn’t want my interest to get piqued, Eren thinks to himself as he watches you stroll away, off to get him to a fresh cup of lemonade, he should have kept his mouth shut.

When his brother had mentioned his new fiancee had a daughter, Eren had supposed it would be some spoiled, bratty kid. After all, he had met your mother once before, and he didn’t think that kind of a woman could raise someone even remotely well-behaved.

So given that, he was more than pleasantly surprised the first time he met you. It was all a shock, from the almost angelic way you float down the stairs to greet him, your soft skin and sweet smile, to the genuine look in your eyes when you tell him that you’re glad to finally meet him.

He still doesn’t know what Zeke did to deserve you in his life, the taste in his mouth a touch too bitter when he watches the way you look at his brother, even when your mom is in the same room. It’s dreamy, as though there’s no better way to spend your time and nothing better to think about than your step-father.

It’s a little unfair, Eren thinks, that Zeke has a sweet, doting little thing head over heels for him. It’s a little unfair that Zeke waited so long to invite him over, to introduce him to you. Maybe it was brotherly instinct, maybe he knew that once Eren met you, he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else, just like it had been for Zeke.

Regardless of what it was, Eren knew one thing for certain. Sibling should always share.

It finally takes an unbearable conversation on the phone with your mother for an excuse, an opportunity to arise. The lie is taking hold in his head and spilling out of his mouth before he can even control it—“Yeah, the pipes burst and it’s just a mess, I called Zeke but his phone’s off- no, really? Just for the weekend, I promise- thank you, I’ll be over soon.”

His bag is packed and cock is twitching at the idea of getting you alone in that house, maybe when Zeke’s locked away in his office and your mother’s out shopping. It’s going to be a hot week, with almost intolerable heat, and he’s positive it’ll have you in revealing clothes (no doubt ones that his brother bought for you) and teensy swimsuits when you go for an afternoon swim.

That’s what he’s thinking of—the image of you soaked to the bone, wet hair and the thin, dripping material of your suit sticking to your skin—when he pulls into your driveway later that day.

It’s almost easy enough to miss the slight wobble in your steps, the way your clothes are just a little too wrinkled for someone that’s been sitting around the house all day.

But Eren notices it, of course, and doesn’t miss the way Zeke practically keeps one eye on you the entire day, no matter who he’s talking to, either.

Maybe if Eren was just a drop stupider, a bit less cunning, you and Zeke could get away with all of it, but he’s not. He thinks it’s his turn to have his fun with you.

Your mother’s even more intolerable than he remembers. He wonders how bad a family dinner could be, but this is much worse than he could have fathomed. It’s a whole host of things, like how she’s oblivious to the affair happening right under her nose and her small comments that have your lips trembling and eyes blinking away tears before they can fall.

Jeez. Eren had initially felt bad for himself, but he’s starting to wonder how you put up with it. Maybe fucking around with Zeke is your own way of getting revenge, payback for every ‘Why do you look so tired, it’s not like you’re the one working all day’ and ‘Don’t you have plans with friends, or are you just gonna bother your parents all day?’

By the time dinner ends, you’ve made your way to the kitchen almost automatically, putting away dishes and wiping counters without even being told, as Zeke gives your mother a cold, hard stare.

“Was all that really necessary?” his brother questions quietly, eyes fuming with anger yet still disguising his true reason for being upset.

“What?” your mother responds innocently, pretending as though she hadn��t said anything wrong. Eren watches the interaction carefully. He thinks it’d be better if he didn’t interject on a married couple’s little spat, but here he goes again, words out before he can control them. They’re spoken a bit louder than they needed to be, but he wants to make sure you hear them over the running water.

“I don’t know, she seems like a good girl to me, no? Maybe you should be easier on her.”

And a few feet away, in the kitchen, your heart skips a beat. Uncle Eren—who you’d only met once and heard about a handful of times, someone who doesn’t owe you anything, someone not even really related to you—defending you?

It was enough to make tears rush to your eyes again, a smile on your face as you rinse off the dishes.

Good girl. The words run through your head again, seemingly on repeat. They’re your two favorite words, enough to pick you up from the dark, sullen headspace you’re in as a result of your mother’s cruel phrases and Zeke’s stinging silence.

Zeke claims it’ll become too obvious, even to your clueless mother, if he always takes your side and speaks up for you, despite how much he wants to, he says. You’re so hopelessly gone, so devoted to him that you don’t think you have it in you to fight for it. The words he says when the two of you are alone, how he makes you feel and spoils you rotten makes up for it, right?

That’s what you’d been telling yourself all this time, but you’re not sure how much longer you can keep the act going. Does he think it’s easy to watch him walk into the bedroom he shares with your mother every night? To watch her kiss him goodbye, hold onto his arm in public, while you trail behind like a lost puppy?

It’s not actually revenge you’re aiming for, when you start greeting Eren in the morning brightly, walking straight on over to him in the living room rather than the kitchen where your step-father is. It’s closer to a plea for attention, like you’re waiting for Zeke to realize you can play at this game too.

Eren’s more than happy to indulge you, spending hours of the day beside you on the couch watching movies, or watering the lawn while you work on your garden, claiming that he just wants to help out around the house as much as he can. His weekend-long visit turns into a week, as the ‘good for nothing contractors are taking their sweet time.’

It’s terribly easy to make you believe every word he’s saying, with you even defending him when Zeke asks how much longer he’s planning on sticking around.

“He’s family,” you had argued valiantly, leaving your step-father with narrowed eyes and a tense jaw as he noticed Eren smiling behind you. For once, your mother had agreed with you, and Zeke was left with no choice.

It’s sunny and warm when Eren’s opportunity, the one he’s been waiting for patiently, appears. Your mother’s gone out again, this time to the salon, there’s that hour of time right after she’s left that you usually treasure, because you know there’s no chance she’ll be on her way back or call home.

It’s usually your favorite time of the day, when you know you can have Zeke all to yourself, and that’s what you’re thinking, when you hesitantly make your way to the door of his office.

Truly, you hadn’t meant to make Zeke angry, you just wanted to be there for Uncle Eren how he was there for you. You were ready to make up and forget about it now, dolled up in a new sundress that you hadn’t gotten a chance to wear yet. Zeke had bought it only weeks ago, before Uncle Eren’s sudden visit, and you thought he might like it if you wore it now.

Your hand has just reached the cool metal of the doorknob, just about to twist when you hear a ringing from inside the room, of Zeke’s phone going off.

You step back, knowing better than to interrupt one of his calls. You’re disheartened a little, mind wondering why he would schedule something when you and he both know this is your hour, your chance to be alone.

You make your way back downstairs, lingering on the last step and thinking about going back up in a few minutes, when Uncle Eren’s voice calls to you from the living room, making you jump a little.

“Oh, sorry, sweetheart, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, voice calm and quiet, a contrast to your thudding heart.

“That’s okay, Uncle Eren,” you say, and your head turns back to look in the direction of Zeke’s office inadvertently. “I was just-”

“Waiting for Daddy, huh?” Your lips part a little in surprise, confused by his implication. Though surely, Zeke wouldn’t have told Uncle Eren anything. No, he wouldn’t do that.

Right?

“I-I just needed to ask him something, but I think he’s on the phone with someone,” you say quietly, confused at Eren’s tone, the confidence with which he spoke those words, almost mockingly.

“Oh, yeah. He told me he’s busy all afternoon, something or other about work and a report-” Eren stops himself right when he notices your expression change, looking thoroughly upset that Zeke was busy when you were ripe for the taking. “He didn’t tell you about that?”

Fuel to the fire, maybe a bit too much, but Eren doesn’t care. Not as long as you keep it up, looking like a maimed little prey upon realizing that Daddy was too busy for you.

Yes, Eren was getting much better with the lying. It doesn’t even register to you to question his words, to go back up and double check, that Zeke might, in fact, be waiting for you to knock on his door at this very second.

Your feet find their way to the sofa, slumping down dejectedly, as Eren sits right next to you. It’s the way you two have been sitting for the past week, except he’s ready to take the risk. His hand finds your knee, thumb rubbing the soft skin as you let out a shaky breath, wiping away a stray tear.

“All afternoon?” comes your quiet voice, trembling at the mere notion that Zeke was upset with you. You hadn’t meant to take it this far, hadn’t thought he would be ignoring you just because you disagreed with something he said for the first time.

But your sadness is turning into something different when you look at the hungry, almost predatory way Uncle Eren is looking at you now.

“That’s what he said, sweetheart. Did you two have plans, or something?” It’s coming off nonchalant, or so he hopes, because every bone in his body is excited at the prospect before him, blood rushing to his hardening cock as he catches a glimpse of your exposed skin as you fiddle with the hem of your dress.

“N-no, I just… He always spends time with me when mom leaves. I just thought he would be free.”

It’s the sweet, lonely way you’re looking into his eyes, your own doe-like and watery, that tips him over the edge.

“Well, I can keep you company.”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, baby. A sweet thing like you shouldn’t be left all alone… it’s not right, well, at least to me.”

“Yeah?” Eren nods his head, line between his lies and the truth blurring suddenly as you inch closer and closer to him.

“I wouldn’t treat you like that, if you were mine, you know-” and he can’t finish his sentence, because your hands are on the collar of his shirt and you’re shifting onto his lap, and your lips are on each other.

It’s stupid, you know, to be so easily guided by a few choice words, putty in virtually anyone’s hands if they say the right things and make you feel seen and heard, but you can’t stop now.

Eren’s tongue is in your mouth, your lips practically glued together as you feel his hands go under the soft cotton of your dress, exploring the supple skin of your thighs. It’s not long before his hands find your ass, squeezing and groping as moan into his mouth.

A sharp slap to your ass makes you yelp, pulling away for just a second before Eren’s hand is on the back of your neck, guiding you into a kiss again. You moan again, louder, when his teeth bite down on your lip just a little bit, when Eren finally pulls away.

“Can’t be too loud, remember, sweetheart? Daddy’s busy upstairs,” he says, somehow knowing exactly what would rile you up. The words act like a little shock running through your system, making you even more eager for Eren’s touch.

“Don’t care-!” you mewl, head going fuzzy when you feel Eren’s hard cock grind against your core, waves of pleasure rushing through your body. You’re still, Eren’s hand coming up to cover your mouth as he continues his rocking movement, making you moan against his hand.

Your eyes roll back when Eren increases his speed, and it’s silly, how the barely-there contact is making you shake, the coil in your stomach tense and unwinding, when Eren stops completely.

You whine loudly, muffled some by his hand, but not entirely, causing Eren to spank you again.

“I thought you were a good girl, hm? Don’t get bratty on me now,” he says, though he thinks it went in one ear and out the other as you come down from your incomplete high.

“I want-I want you, Uncle Eren, now-!” Another whine, another spank. You cry out again, until the fourth slap—which leaves your ass sore already from Eren’s heavy-handedness—silences you.

“Sweetheart, stop misbehaving or you’re not gonna get anything, okay?” he coos, fingers finding your chin and directing your face to look him in the eyes. They’re lust-blown too, and his hardness is still evident underneath your body, but your body’s inclined to follow his rules, despite how badly you want to cum.

“Yes, Uncle Eren,” you say softly, your squirming body finally stopping. Eren’s fingers find their way to the thin straps of your sundress, pulling them until they rest on your shoulder and expose your neck and collar to him.

“Tell me something, baby, did you wear this for me? Or for him?” The very mention of Zeke makes your body stiffen, but you’re still desperate for more and eager to please Uncle Eren.

“For you,” you mumble, wanting to just bury your head in the crook of Eren’s neck and feel him inside you, though you know you won’t get what you want that easily.

“Me? I’m so honored,” he says, letting out a laugh at how your body shakes in anticipation but you stay completely still. He wonders if Zeke had to teach you to be this obedient, or if it just comes to you naturally.

He thinks it’s the latter when he rolls his hips quickly, watching you squirm and bite your lip hard to keep quiet, another rush of pleasure coursing through you, though it’s not nearly enough.

“It’s okay, baby, you’ve been good enough to me, haven’t you?” he asks, and you nod your head quickly. “You deserve to feel good, don’t you?” You nod again and let out a shaky breath when Eren moves your hips with his hands, finally giving you the much-needed pressure on your clit.

“Why don’t you cum for me, baby, just like this? Mmh?” You’re letting out little squeals at each contact, hips moving faster and faster as Eren lays back and lets you use his cock as a toy to grind against. His head falls back at how good it feels, though he won’t let himself cum until he’s inside you.

You’re close again, stomach tensing again and that familiar feeling gathering inside your chest, making you feel warm all over as you speed up.

The breaking point is when Eren’s hands come to your chest, pulling down your dress and exposing your tits to the cool air. His fingers pinch one while his mouth finds the other, and suddenly you can’t keep quiet no matter how hard you try, moans spilling out your mouth as well as repeated cries of Uncle Eren, that sound sweet as sugar to Eren.

It’s when Eren starts bucking his hips up too, that you finally cum, a bolt of pleasure running through your entire body as he keeps going. You’re not entirely sure what kind of noises you’re making—everything seems to be muted and fuzzy as repeated shocks make you shake, Eren’s firm grip on your tits being the only thing that’s grounding you.

When you finally come down, forcing yourself away from Eren’s lap and legs pressed tightly together to calm your oversensitive cunt, there’s a lecherous look in Eren’s eyes. It’s screaming to you, silently, how he’s not done with you yet.

“Aw, baby, look how fast you came just from a little bit of humping. Are you that desperate, bunny? Is Daddy not taking care of you?”

Your face feels like it might be on fire, blood and heat rushing at the same time and burning quickly with shame at the realization that Eren knew all along, that he’s been playing this little game with you since his arrival and you never, not once, had the upper hand.

He feels more predatory than ever before, spreading your legs despite how your legs ache and your core is burning—even if you wanted more, you don’t think you could take it—but it doesn’t seem like Eren cares.

“U-uncle Eren, we shouldn’t- h-he might-” you start, but are cut off as Eren presses a finger to your lips.

“Sweetheart, isn’t that a little unfair? If you get to cum, and I don’t? Be a good girl and spread for me,” he says, and you feel your body comply automatically.

Your back’s on the couch now, Eren hovering over you. All it would take is a few steps in this direction after coming down the stairs for someone to find you, but you can hardly care when Eren’s shoving your dress up, exposing your panties and shoving them to the side, your wetness on display for him.

“One day, baby, when Daddy’s not here, I’m gonna fuck you stupid with my tongue—just not today,” and the words go straight to your head. Your heart thuds uncomfortably in your chest every time he mentions Zeke, a sense of guilt washing over you and replacing the pleasure you feel, but you forget all about it when you see Eren undos his pants and take out his hardened cock.

It’s plainly wrong to compare it to Zeke’s, and though it might not be longer, it’s definitely thicker, not as pretty but covered in throbbing veins that you can’t even imagine feeling inside you.

Eren’s about to grant your wish, running his cockhead over your sensitive clit once, twice, and just as you're expecting a third, he pushes inside of you.

A strangled, loud moan escapes your lips before he can cover your mouth again. It’s agonizing, not being able to make a sound as your step-uncle fucks you into the couch, movements picking up and a steady pace filling the room with obscene noises. You can’t see where the two of you are connected, since your eyes are locked with Eren’s pretty green ones, but you know you’re making a mess.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before, every thrust stretching you out, you think he’s ruined your cunt for anyone else—but that’s exactly what he wants.

It’s silent, save for the heavy patter of Eren’s balls against your ass with each thrust, the sound of his hips knocking with yours. He’s trying to keep his grunts silent, but it’s getting harder and harder with the way you’re clenching around him, so tight and wet and soft, he wonders what his brother did to deserve someone like you—he wonders why he doesn’t spend every minute inside you.

Your sensitive cunt tightens around him, knowing only another few strokes and grazes on your clit will be enough to tip you into your second orgasm. Your shaky hand finds Eren’s, pulling his wrist away from your face and meeting his lips again, releasing muffled moans into his mouth.

You know he’s close too, from the way his pace picks up, and you pull away just for a second, just to say three words.

“Please, Uncle Eren.”

And it’s enough to make his hips stutter, enough to uncoil the knot in your tense stomach and have your orgasm washing over you, as you feel Eren fill your cunt with his hot cum. Your lips are on each other, the lewd squelching of his slowing thrusts matching the small squeaks you release, until he finally pulls out and your panties snap back over your leaking cunt.

It’s hard to catch your breath, from your position laying down, feeling your tight hole throb and Eren’s cum spill out, probably onto the sofa seat. You adjust the top of your dress, covering your tits and pulling one strap up. When you’re fixing the skirt, you feel Eren’s hands pull the other strap onto your shoulder, hands lingering on your exposed skin.

You shy away from looking at him, despite how his cum is still inside you. It feels too intimate, almost, because a part of you thinks you were taken advantage of, and another part of you doesn’t ever want Eren to leave you.

Eren’s fingers find your chin, forcing you to look up and meet his gaze. You blink quickly, licking your swollen lips and biting the inside of your cheek nervously.

Neither of you speak, though you know what’s lingering in the air. You can tell he’s gotten what he wanted, and he’s going to leave, and yet you can’t stop yourself from speaking first, throat scratchy and dry and your words nothing more than a whisper.

“C-can I… did you- did you mean all those things you said? Before?”

And suddenly Eren understands everything, why you’re this way, why you need to be validated so badly, why his brother’s such a good match for you. He thinks he’d sacrifice anything too, like his marriage and a new life, just to make you happy.

“Of course I did, sweetheart. I meant every word of it.”

“Really?” There’s a soft smile on your lips, your eyes watery and he thinks it doesn’t have anything to do with how hard he fucked you.

“Yeah, I-”

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeke’s voice comes from behind you.

#... uh yeah <3 step uncle eren #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren yeager imagine #eren yeager smut #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger imagine #eren jaeger x reader #aot #fics #tw step cest #tw dubcon

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

This Game of Yours

Father of Mine – Part 1 and Part 2

Jason was beautiful.

And somehow that scar that went from the right corner of his mouth up to his temple only made him that much more beautiful to Y/N.

Those blue eyes were the same color of water on a stormy day in the Irish sea. And somehow Y/N knew they held the same tempestuousness.

The white streak weaved with his jet black hair so naturally that Y/N would’ve believed he was born with it.

His shoulders were so broad, making his 6’3 height feel even more imposing. He had a presence. People noticed every time he walked into a room. It made Y/N wonder how he was ever able to sneak up on people as Red Hood.

He was wearing a black hoodie underneath his black moto jacket.

Y/N knew Jason didn’t give a shit about fashion. Yet he was well-dressed without any effort – more so than most of the models Y/N had shot throughout her career.

Not being able to control herself any longer, Y/N raised her camera and took a photo.

Jason stopped surveying their surroundings and his gaze snapped to her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

But his growl didn’t scare her in the slightest.

“Anyone who’s by me when I have a camera is at risk of getting their picture taken. No one is safe. Not even you,” she answered his question unapologetically.

Y/N was working on a personal passion project for her next show. Her collection would be about the poverty and crime of Gotham. Half of the photos would show the heaviest crime areas of the city. And the other half would expose the lifestyles of the wealthiest people in Gotham.

Why did so many suffer from the same system that helped the rich get even richer?

When Bruce found out Y/N was going to Crime Alley and the Bowery by herself, he was visibly upset.

But he realized that Y/N would do as she pleased, so his plan b was to give her protective detail.

However, Y/N didn’t know that Jason had volunteered, almost immediately.

Instead, all she heard was Jason grimly telling her, “You’re lucky you haven’t been fucking murdered yet.”

She had only responded with a roll of her eyes.

“I’m not your escort so you can take my picture. I’m here so you don’t get raped or murdered.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words?”

His only response was a glare.

Jason loved playing this game. The game of pretending to be irritated with her when actually he was absolutely infatuated with Y/F/N Y/L/N.

“The easiest way to stop getting your picture taken is to always be the one holding the camera,” Y/N added with a smirk and wink.

Jason didn’t answer, only thinking what a shame it was that no one got to photograph her.

Suddenly, the sunlight hit the top of his head perfectly, creating a halo around that thick and messy hair of his.

Y/N snapped another photo.

“Will you stop?” He warned.

It only succeeded in making her laugh.

And that just excited his heart even more.

“Jason, you were born to get your photo taken.” 

There was no joke underneath her words, only sincerity.

“Whatever,” he mumbled.

Jason had a hard time believing that. His skin was riddled with scars. And he was convinced that she’d be singing a different song if she saw his chest, with its thick autopsy scar amongst the so many others. The absolute last word he’d use to describe himself was beautiful. Strong and imposing? Yes. But never beautiful – or any other positive adjective, for that matter.

“I’m not kidding. If you ever want to stop the whole vigilante thing, you can easily become a model.”

Y/N had noticed it as soon as Jason took of his helmet that night. His domino mask had done nothing to prevent her from noting the obvious.

It didn’t take long for Y/N to realize Jason wasn’t like his “brothers.”

“Brothers.” What a strange word.

Should she consider all of them as hers?

Only Damian was actually related to her – and technically he was only her half-brother.

Y/N had watched Jason get on his motorcycle and leave the cave that night she’d almost died.

She’d agreed to stay for dinner and get to know everyone. And a part of her brain was excited to get a better read on the masked man that sat by her bedside as she’d recovered.

“He’s not staying?” Y/N had asked Bruce as he guided her to the stairs that led back up to the manor.

He only shook his head, but she noticed the disappointed expression.

Soon she found out that Jason was the black sheep of this strange family that had taken her in.

Dick was the one who told her about Jason’s dark past. All of it seemed unbelievable: murdered by Joker and brought back to life from a mysterious pit. Only to return to the family who appeared to have replaced him and never sought vengeance on Jason’s behalf. 

But it was true; Y/N had seen no lie in Dick’s eyes when he filled her in.

Suddenly there was yelling coming from around the corner.

Without hesitation, Jason shoved Y/N behind him.

He reached for one of his guns and then realized that he didn’t have any.

Y/N was rather vocal about hating them, claiming they made her extremely uncomfortable.

Her expression alone as she said it was enough for Jason to swallow his stubbornness and leave the things at home.

Bruce was rather taken aback by the gesture. Nothing he’d ever said was enough to get Jason to do that.

A gang of young men came marching around the corner like they owned the place…because they did. This was their territory.

Jason immediately recognized them as some of the Russian mob.

Despite pulling Y/N behind him, they still caught sight of her and looked her up and down without an ounce of shame.

“Hey, beautiful. How you doing?”

“Продолжай идти, придурки,” Jason growled at them.

He was outnumbered. But there must’ve been something about his body language that made the gang realize they shouldn’t pick a fight with him. Maybe it was the muscles or his height or that he looked like he wouldn’t even blink before murdering them.

So they just…walked away. Some of them mumbled threats or insults at him. But they realized they shouldn’t even so much as look at Y/N.

A split second before they were gone, Y/N took a picture of Jason.

“Really?” He asked.

She shrugged. “You look like a different person when you’re protective.”

Y/N was beautiful.

Jason watched as she passionately explained her work to a potential buyer.

He recognized the man as a local politician – luckily, one of the few that hadn’t been corrupted from this shitty city.

Y/N had the intimidating energy of her father, but the kind eyes of her mother. At least, that was what Bruce had told everyone, and they all took his word for it.

She wore a stylish white jumpsuit that made her look like a 1980s villain and black stiletto heels. 

Jason watched as men cowered in her presence, hating the fact that she proudly stood taller than them. She was just one less woman they could intimidate or manipulate – and they couldn’t stand it.

But Jason loved watching the emasculation in real time.

The bastards didn’t deserve her anyway.

Dick was one of the very few men Jason knew who didn’t blink at a woman towering over him. In fact, his older brother had a track record of preferring it.

“Surprised to see you here,” Bruce said beside him, catching Jason watching Y/N.

“Well, I was her personal bodyguard through all this. Figured I should see if it was worth me wasting my time or not.” Then he tossed back his champagne and slammed it on the tray of a waiter passing by. “Plus, free alcohol.”

Bruce just quirked an eyebrow, silently telling Jason that he knew he was lying.

“Are you buying something?” Jason asked, trying to change the subject.

“I have been strictly forbidden,” Bruce sighed.

Jason chuckled.

He knew if Bruce had his way, he’d buy every single on of Y/N’s pieces.

“I have to know,” Bruce began. “What exactly is holding you back?”

Jason finally ripped his gaze away from Y/N to give Bruce a questioning look.

“What are you talking about?”

“Y/N. You care about her.”

“All of us do,” Jason brushed off. “Even the demon spawn.”

Bruce knew there wasn’t a chance Jason would admit his feelings – especially to him.

“Not that I think you care…but you have my approval.”

Little did Bruce know, Jason did care.

Jason had convinced himself that their rocky relationship and past fights meant that Bruce would die before he let Jason be anywhere near his daughter.

And Jason could hardly blame him.

He didn’t deserve to be loved. He lost that right after he died and came back a monster. And that was the story Jason told himself over and over again.

So he would love Y/N from afar. And hope she would pick someone who was worthy of her love.

“She’s basically my sister,” Jason groaned in fake disgust.

It was quite the performance.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. “We both know that isn’t what’s stopping you. And you’ve made it clear you don’t consider us your family.”

“Whatever, Bruce.”

Jason walked away, having enough of the subject.

“What was that about?” Clark asked as he joined Bruce’s side.

“Jason refusing to let himself be happy,” Bruce sighed.

Clark already knew what Bruce was talking about. He’d seen Y/N and Jason dancing around each other for months now. He’d never really seen Y/N take an interest in anyone before, so it was all new for Clark.

“Don’t worry. Y/N won’t let him get away with it for much longer,” Clark said through a smirk. “She gets what she wants.”

And Bruce believed him.

“It doesn’t bother you – the two of them together?” Clark asked with genuine curiosity.

“Jason reminds me every day that I’m not his father. And I’m hardly Y/N’s.” A soft smile formed on Bruce’s lips. “He’ll look after her. And she…I think she’d be good for him. I just want them to be happy. Both of them.”

——

Jason headed home rather early.

He’d never actually went to say congratulations or even hello to Y/N.

Every time he was about to go over, someone else stole her attention. He didn’t want to get in the way of her talking to potential buyers or even just friends.

Jason was just about to make himself something to eat when there was a knock at his door.

He froze.

Very few people knew where his apartment was.

Jason grabbed a gun and tiptoed to his front door.

With a peak through the peephole, he let out a irritated sigh.

Jason whipped the door open, “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot your head off.”

“Maybe don’t own guns and you wouldn’t have to worry about shit like that,” Y/N snapped back.

“What are you doing here?”

“You come to my gallery opening and don’t even say hi?” Y/N accused as she stepped around him and into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation.

Jason eyed the paper bag that was in one of her hands.

“By all means, come on in,” he called sarcastically as he slammed the door behind her.

Y/N started searching through his cabinets. “Where are your glasses?”

“The one to your right. What are you doing here?”

Y/N had the brightest and almost mischievous smile as she pulled a bottle of champagne from the paper bag.

“I brought this as my thanks for you making sure I don’t – and I quote – ‘get raped and murdered.’”

Jason glared at her.

Here was the game again.

Y/N being charming and hilariously provoking..and Jason pretending like he hadn’t fallen for her.

She poured them both a glass. They weren’t flutes or coupes, but she couldn’t care less.

“We’re chugging these, by the way,” Y/N informed Jason as she handed him a glass.

He sighed, but obediently clinked his glass with hers and tossed it back.

Barely giving them a second, Y/N immediately refilled them.

“So, why didn’t you come over and say hi?” She repeated.

“Didn’t want to bother you,” Jason mumbled with a shrug.

She narrowed her eyes at his answer. “You’ve never bothered me before, Jason.”

Now he felt guilty.

Jason bowed his head. “I should’ve come and talked to you,” he agreed. “Your work…it looked – it’s amazing, Y/N. Congratulations.”

Apparently Y/N hadn’t expected such a sincere compliment from him, and she was stunned to silence.

“Thank you,” she managed to whisper once she’d recovered.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her edge. “And really…thank you for being my own little security detail.”

If Jason was healthy about expressing is thoughts and feelings, he would’ve told her that it was the highlight of his weeks. That he looked forward to her calls or texts, telling him that she was going to photograph another shady area. “Be there or don’t. I’m going no matter what,” she’d text him with her usual snark.

But Jason didn’t express his thoughts and feelings.

He kept them bottled up – with the same energy he used to keep Y/N at a distance.

So instead, Jason said, “If it wasn’t me, one of the others would’ve done it.”

Y/N winced slightly at that.

‘You’re such a fucking asshole,’ Jason told himself.

“You know…we can see each other even you’re not my bodyguard.”

Jason was impressed by her boldness. But she didn’t know what she was doing. She didn’t understand that he wasn’t good. He couldn’t play the loving boyfriend role. She belonged with someone like Dick or Clark – or literally anyone but him. And Jason was willing to be an asshole to make sure she understood that.

Y/N took a step closer to him, invading his personal space.

Without breaking eye contact, she threw back her second glass of champagne and then placed it on the nearest counter space.

She stepped even closer.

This was simultaneously Jason’s worst nightmare and most desired dream.

Her eyes moved from his eyes to his lips.

But before she could make her final push, Jason took a step back and cleared his throat.

He looked down at the ground as he said, “You should go.”

When he looked up, he expected to find Y/N heartbroken or embarrassed.

But she was neither.

No. She looked irritated.

Not because she wasn’t getting what she wanted, but because she was sick of his games.

Y/N sighed and stepped back. “Fine.”

Jason rubbed his face in frustration as she grabbed her purse and started for the door she had walked through only minutes ago.

She opened it and paused.

“You know what? No. Fuck that,” Y/N snapped before slamming the door closed.

She whipped around and strutted back to him with purpose.

Jason was suspended with both fervor and awe.

Y/N grabbed his face and pulled him down to her lips.

All self control went out the window. Jason couldn’t continue his game. It was all over for him.

He kissed her back almost immediately. How could he not?

Y/N bit his lip slightly, making him hiss in surprise. It was his punishment for making her wait all this time.

Eventually they needed a moment to breathe.

But Y/N didn’t let go of his face when their lips finally parted.

“Choose your next words very carefully,” she breathed.

He swallowed nervously. “You’re kind of fucking terrifying. You know that?”

Her smile was pure evil.

Apparently this was the right response.

“Are you done being an idiot?” She asked.

He nodded quickly.

Her hands moved down and then lingered on his neck, tracing the bottom lines of his jaw.

She smiled again and then looked him up and down.

“What?” He questioned.

“Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m just…I’m not used to being shorter than men.”

“Is that the only reason you like me? Huh? My height?” Jason goaded.

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “It was the whole ‘I look like I could murder everyone and I can, but deep down I’m a big softie’ that did it for me.”

Jason’s grip tightened on her waist. “Oh, yeah? You’re one to talk…”

“Me?!” She yelped. “I couldn’t kill anyone, even if my life depended on it.”

“Maybe. But your terrifying in basically every other way.”

Y/N laughed at that.

Jason couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the sound

“So…still want me to leave?” She asked.

And this time, she would if that’s really what he wanted.

“Fuck no,” Jason answered, almost threateningly.

Then, for good measure, he picked her up by the back of her thighs and carried her to the couch, before he started to kiss her once again.

Y/N knew things weren’t always going to be this simple.

Jason had his demons. 

And honestly, so did she. They were nothing like his. And maybe they were silly in comparison. But she wouldn’t be the perfect partner. Just like he wouldn’t be. 

They’d drive each other crazy. But it would be the good kind of crazy.

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

+ Childhood

#father of mine bonus content #father of mine #bruce wayne x daughter #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batman x daughter #batman x daughter!reader #bruce wayne's daughter #batman's daughter #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood reader insert #clark kent x platonic!reader #superman x platonic!reader

[c-is-for-circinate]

Wait, isn't "anti" stuff more like "anti-pedophilia" and stuff? Like, you have a point about anti-porn attitudes, but from what I've heard just "anti" on its own means against stuff like kid porn and incest porn and legitimately f*cked up sh*t like that.

Okay!  So this, I think, is actually a great example of what I was talking about, and a really useful thing to understand.  (CW rape, child abuse, etc)

Smarter people than me have written much better essays about why policing thoughtcrimes is a bad road to go down, and I will probably reblog some of them next time they cross my dash for more context.  What I want to talk about is the trigger mechanism, the ‘oh, this looks like danger!!!’ immune response in how we look at different kinds of porn, and how that applies to anti culture.

Here’s the thing: I am anti-pedophilia.  I think that, for most people, that’s a stance that largely goes without saying!  Adults who prey on children are bad.  I’m also against incest; relatives who prey on their family members are bad.  Above all I oppose rape.  Sexual predation of any kind is bad.  In fact, I’d say that’s the most important item on the list.  There is plenty of room to argue about where the lines are between ‘adult’ and ‘child’ and how teenagers fit in the middle, and there’s plenty of room to get historical about the lines between ethically terrible incest, distasteful-but-bearable “aristocratic inbreeding” between distant cousins, and the kind of consanguinity that tends to develop in a small town where everyone’s vaguely related to everyone else by now anyway.  The core of the issue is consent, and it has always been consent.  Pedophilia and incest are horrific because they are rape scenarios where the abuser has far more power and their victim far fewer resources to cope, both practically and emotionally; because harm to children is, to us as a culture, worse than harm to adults, for a lot of very valid reasons; and because they constitute betrayal of trust the victim should have been able to put in their abuser as well as rape--but they are all rape scenarios, and that’s why they’re awful. 

These things are bad.  It is good for us to have a social immune response system that recognizes these things when they’re happening and insists we step in.  That is a good thing to develop!  It helps us, as a society.  It can help the people being victimized.  It’s the same reason educators and childcare workers in the US are all mandated reporters, why we do background checks on people working near kids.  These things happen, and they’re terrible, and it’s good that we try to be aware and prepared for them.  (Though obviously studies show we’re a lot less good at protecting the vulnerable than we’d like to pretend we are.)

The question is: why does that same social immune response trigger, and trigger so angrily, in response to fiction?

Anti culture is fundamentally an expression of that social immune response.  Specifically, it’s that social immune response when it is set off by a situation that, while it has some similarities to the very bad real-life crime of sexual predation including pedophilia and incest, is in and of itself harmless.

If you’re instinct is to flare up in anger or dismissiveness because I’m calling these things harmless, I want to ask you to just take a deep breath and bear with me for a bit longer.  What you’re feeling right now is an allergic reaction.

Humans tell and read and listen to stories about “legitimately fucked up shit” all the time.  It’s part of the human condition.  It’s part of how we process those things happening, not just to use, but to other people in the world around us.  It’s part of how we process completely unrelated fucked-up shit, playing with fears and furies and insecurities that we all have, through so may layers of fiction that we don’t even recognize them any more, playing with power dynamics in metaphor and making characters suffer for fun.  Aside from the fact that literally all stories do this to some extent or another; aside from the fact that drawing lines between ‘ok that’s good storytelling’ and ‘that’s too fucked-up to write about’ is arbitrary, subjective, and dangerous in its own right; aside from all of that, these stories are stories.  All of them. 

Even the ones about rape, about incest, about pedophilia.  They’re words on a page.  No real children were harmed, touched, or even glanced at in the making of this work of fiction.  This story, pornographic though it may be, is part of a conversation between consenting adults.  (And if a teenager lies about their age to consent, that is a different problem altogether.)

Stories in and of themselves, no matter what they’re about, are no more dangerous than a crate full of oranges.  Which is to say: utterly harmless, unless all you have to eat is oranges, all day every day, and you find yourself dying slowly of nutrient deficiency--which is why representation matters.  Or unless someone wields one deliberately, violently, as a tool to cause harm, and someone gets acid in their eye--which is the fault of the person holding the orange. And unless you happen to be allergic to citrus.

The key here is this twofold understanding:  First, the thing that hurts you can also have value to others.  Real, legitimate value.  Whether you’ve undergone trauma and certain story elements are straight-up PTSD triggers or you just don’t like orange juice, that story, those tropes, that crate of oranges may be somewhere between icky and fundamentally abhorrent--but we understand that that is still your reaction.  Even if you don’t understand how anybody could ever enjoy it; even if every single person you surround yourself with is as sensitive and disgusted and itchy about this thing that makes your eyes hurt and your throat stop working as you; that doesn’t make it true for everyone.  That doesn’t make oranges poisonous.  No real children were involved in the writing of this story.  It is words on a page.

But, secondly: the thing that has value to others can also hurt you.  Just because a story isn’t inherently poison doesn’t mean it can’t cause you, personally, pain.  That’s what a PTSD trigger is: an allergic reaction, psychological anaphylaxis, a brain that’s trying so hard to protect its own from a threat that isn’t actually present (but was once, and the brain is trained to respond) that it causes far more harm and misery than the trigger itself possibly could.  And no, it’s not just people with PTSD who sometimes get hurt by stories.  There are many, many ways a story can poke the part of your brain that says, this is Bad, I don’t like this, I don’t want to be here.  The story is still, always, every time, pixels on a screen and ink on paper.  The story causes no physical harm.  But it can poke your brain into misery, it can stir up your emotions, it can make you want to cringe and run away.  It can make you want to scream and fight and go after the author who brought this thing into existence.  It can make you hurt.

This is an allergic reaction.  This is your brain and body, your reflexes and instincts, trying to protect you from something that isn’t really happening.  And just like a literal allergic reaction, it can do actual harm to you if it gets set off.  This is real.  The fact that stories can upset you to the point of pain and mental/emotional injury is real, even though it’s coming from your own brain and not the story itself.  There are stories you shouldn’t read.  There are stories I shouldn’t read, regret reading, will never read, because they hurt me.  That doesn’t mean they’re the same stories that would hurt you.  That doesn’t mean they don’t have value.

And, finally:

If getting upset about stories is fundamentally an individual person’s allergic reaction, their brain freaking out and firing off painful survival instincts in the face of a thing that isn’t, in and of itself, a threat?  Then the anti movement is a cultural allergic reaction.

Fandom as a whole has a pretty active immune system, which doesn’t mean we have a good immune system.  We try very hard to be aware of all the viruses and -isms and abuse and manipulation and cruelty, both systematic and individual, that exists around and within our community.  We’re primed and ready to shout about things at all times.  The anti movement is that system, that culture, screaming and shouting and fighting at a harmless thing on a grand scale.  It wants to stop that thing, that scary awful thing that trips all of its well-primed danger sensors, at all costs.  It’ll swell up and block off our airways (our archives) if it has to.  It’ll turn on the body it came from.  It’s scared and protective and trying to fight, and it’s ready to fight and destroy itself.

Luckily, fans and fanfic and fandom and fan culture are a lot bigger and older than they often get credit for, and it’s not like these cultural allergies are anything new.  We could talk about shippers and slashers in the X-Files fandom in the 90s.  We could talk about the birth of fandom in the days of Star Trek.  We could talk about censorship and book burning going back centuries.  We survived that and we’ll survive this, too.

But god, does the anti movement my throat and eyes itch.  Man is it irritating, and sometimes a little suffocating, to realize how many stories just aren’t getting told out of fear of what the antis will say.  And that’s the real danger, I think.  What are we losing that would have so much value to someone?  What are we missing out?

#fandom #anti culture #anti-anti #I guess? #asked and answered #you are not WRONG or BAD or BROKEN if a story hurt you #but neither is the story #Anonymous #anti discourse day

[cinnamonest]

Yandere Profile - Link (Legend of Zelda)

ABSOLUTELY YES. MY BOY. LOVE OF MY LIFE.

As some of you may know, today is the release date of Skyward Sword HD for Switch!! So I decided to release this one now in honor of that :3

NOTES:

I went towards the idea of a Princess!reader because that just opens the gate for sooooo much potential. I'm leaning heavily towards the ZeLink interactions in BoTW and Skyward Sword just because those games have the most interaction between the two.

Also! This is great bc it gives me the opportunity to explore an idea I've actually had a long time! I've always thought about how many opportunities there have been across the games for Link and Zelda to be kinda like "haha well seeya later" and just... bolt, run away from everything, abandon their roles and responsibilities and all that. Like, if OoT kid Link got her before Ganon did and ran, if SS Link just decided to get her on the bird and bolt before everything went down, if botw Link was just like haha what if we ran away from everything together... jk... unless...?

And final note, Link is a great pick for the very traditional yandere -- sweet and : ) but can snap into darker personas. I really liked writing this bc I tend to have more self centered yans and less of the "worships the ground you walk on" type of yans like I think Link would be, so it's a nice change.

As usual now the nsfw section is divided by a ---- line.

TWs: fem reader, heavily implied Zelda!reader, stalking, murder, very brief mentions of gore/dismemberment of rivals, manipulation, very brief suicide mention, themes of reincarnation (I’ve been told this can be triggering to some people so just in case)

TWs (nsfw section): noncon, somnophilia

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

Severity Scale

Intelligence/Perceptiveness: 4 Brutality: 8.5 Physical capability: 8 Mental/emotional instability: 7 Restrictiveness: 6 Sexual sadism: 5 Stubbornness: 8

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

The primary trait of Link that any darling -- any person, really -- would notice is that he is, well, quiet. He has always been a man of few words, and really, he often doesn't know exactly what to say. On his own, at a first glance, he really does seem like a gentle, humble spirit, someone who blends into the background pretty well, who isn't particularly prideful or reckless or aggressive.

Which is why, to be honest, he might sort of evade the gaze of most people -- he doesn't stand out. You remember him as the boy that smiled at you now and then, it's a soft, gentle sort of smile, one that you feel conveys nothing but the utmost innocence and contentment with the world. You know he's pretty good at fighting, but doesn't get into fights needlessly, he's accomplished and respected, but has never been the guy everyone is talking about -- he's in the background, against the wall. Never speaking, always looking out, sometimes at the sky, sometimes carefully watching people. Sometimes you see him, gaze blank and tranquil, and wonder what he's thinking about. Whether he's the village boy in the time of Twilight, the trained and honored warrior that slept for many years, the boy that came down from the sky -- you can't help but feel at ease around him, safe, you can't help but find him endearing and pleasant.

Yet, you always seem to notice him. Other people... forget he exists, sometimes, he's so quiet. You never do, for whatever reason.

When he needs to get something across, he prefers to express himself through actions, not words. If you lived in Skyloft, or Ordon village, you might find problems mysteriously solved, work suddenly done that you don't remember doing. That fencepost outside your home that broke has been replaced overnight. A village child went missing and he comes back a few hours later with them in tow. Always humble, never demanding or expecting thanks, he tells you in his quiet voice that he's happy to help you.

And should you ever ask him for anything, he'll drop whatever he's doing to help. Anything for you, he says with a smile, which makes you feel a bit guilty when, honestly, you're not even sure you're remembering his name right.

And yet, sometimes, you feel so at ease around him it seems unnatural. He seems so easy to trust. You feel like you've known him forever. And sometimes you feel... for just a split second, less at ease. You find yourself randomly stiffening at his calm, sweet voice. You find yourself looking around when you're alone, as if you feel someone is there, and for some reason, his face flashes through your mind. Sometimes when he looks at you, you feel sort of cold. It's almost like invoking a memory you don't have, like some kind of learned instinct you can't recall a reason for. But those moments are fleeting, they come and go before you can even process them, replaced by warmth and comfort.

If you do spend time with him, if you find yourself gazing out your window when he's training, the next thing you notice besides him being quiet and sweet is that he's strong. It's almost ironic, how all the other knights or village boys are so aggressive and rowdy all the time, many of them taller or bulkier, and yet, none of them could ever dream of defeating Link. Not one can match his agility, speed, prowess. Such a pleasant, calm person, with so much skill, strength, and power, but that power is so rarely seen exerted. People marvel at his talent, they say it's as if he has the experience of lifetimes and lifetimes of battle in his blood.

And it's why you feel at ease when he's assigned the task of guarding you. His capabilities are unmatched, and yet you'd never fear any harm to you from him. Both of those traits put together make him the best candidate to protect you.

Of course, you do find yourself doing most of the talking. Sometimes you find yourself rambling to fill the silence, and you fear you're annoying him, but when you stop he raises an eyebrow and asks why you got so quiet. Did he do something wrong? He seems to worry about that a lot -- has he done something bad? Has he made you upset? Are you mad? At first you think he's worried about his position security, but after a while you realize he genuinely worries about it.

And when you do continue your ramblings, you're surprised to find he remembers your words -- every little thing you say. Things you don't even remember telling him. He asks you about that relative you mentioned one time, his eyes light up and he walks a bit to the side because look, it's your favorite flower over there, he'll get it for you. It's impressive, really, how he manages to remember such things. He must take his job very seriously.

He does enjoy giving you such things -- he loves giving you gifts. It's usually things he finds, wholesome little things -- makes a crown out of the flowers you like so much, finds something interesting here or there, while he was off-duty he saw something in the markets he thought you'd like and got it for you. You almost feel guilty, it's so constant that he's giving you things.

Sometimes you ask him about himself, you realize he knows so much about you and you so little about him. He blushes, he rubs the back of his head, he insists there's nothing interesting about him, he wouldn't waste your time like that. It takes time to get him out of his shell, but eventually, he tells you this or that, little stories from his life.

Sometimes you take long walks, you like to get out of the stuffy walls and have fun outside, he accompanies you across Hyrule. Sometimes it feels familiar, you pass places you've never been that give you a feeling of nostalgia, deja vu, a sense that you've been here before.

He’s protectiveness incarnated. Insanely so. He can spring to his feet at a moment's notice and deals with anything that comes for you before they can even get close.

It makes you feel safe, but there's something else there. It's a ferocity that is so contrasting to his normal self, different even from the times you've seen him fight as he trains. It's a glint in the eyes, an aggression in his expression, that almost makes him seem like a different person. And it lingers for a moment, once the creature is dead and his sword hand falls to his side, he turns and glances at you to his side, a hand raised to wipe the blood off his face, and for that lingering second, it's still there, his blank expression and wide eyes -- a ferocity so intense it starts to look like bloodlust, chaos, destruction. And then, it's as if you imagined it. Smiling and telling you it's gone now, you're ok. You're glad he's so truly devoted.

In fact, he's so dedicated to his job that he starts... doing it... outside of his job hours...? Well, today he was given the day off, and you were told to stay inside because you didn't have to go out. He comes knocking on your door, says not to be startled if you hear someone outside your door move or shift or anything, but he just wanted to let you know in case. He'll be right here. Keeping watch. So don't worry. You're safe.

And likewise, he was supposed to have a day off when you were supposed to enter the town. You were assigned two other guards to watch you, since it's a special trip, so you're surprised to find just Link waiting for you. He took care of it, he says, he didn't feel right leaving your safety up to someone else, he doesn't trust them. So they agreed to let him take over for today.

All of this said, he doesn't have to grow alongside you, he doesn't have to be the childhood friend, the knight who guards you. He doesn't even have to have met you. Fate works in odd ways like that. There's a sort of inexplicable instant attachment he takes to you, almost as though it's some kind of destined, divinely inspired sort of thing. He would describe it as saying you feel familiar to him.

He's also, notably, prone to a more traditional trope of what you might call humility whiplash. For the most part, he's got that overly humble, worshipping, "I don't deserve to even stand in your presence" sort of mentality. However, although it's rare and requires a lot of wearing down his mental state, if pushed far enough, he can have brief moments where he snaps into more or less the complete opposite -- entitlement, arrogance, aggression, getting mad at you for the behavior he'd normally take with a smile on his face. Thankfully, unlike some yanderes that have a whole snapping episode towards their darling, his are very very brief, usually only a matter of seconds or a single snarled sentence before he snaps back to normal, wide-eyed and apologetic and telling you I don't know what came over me. It’s... a little frightening to say the least, but you blow it off, tell yourself that hey, everyone has moments like that... Right?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

For the most part, he doesn't need it, he can pretty easily cling to your side well enough to be assured of your safety, and he manages to scare off the undesirables not with a glare, but a smile that's just a little too sweet and far too persistent -- it unnerves people. You hear a lot of people say that something about that guy rubs me the wrong way. Or that he gives me goosebumps for some reason. Even the people he scares away themselves can't pinpoint exactly what it is, all they know is that, despite being reputed as kind and quiet (and maybe a little dense), somehow a lot of people agree that something about him puts people at unease, and that's all he needs. Because they stay away from him, and if he’s by your side all the time, that means they stay away from you too. Why keep you trapped when you can just be isolated?

An aware Link is a a unique scenario. One scenario that's rather... interesting to imagine is a Link that defies fate itself, a Link that decides to be selfish in one of those rare snapping moments of his. Perhaps he makes a decision when everything starts going down, when the chaos is beginning, or perhaps he has somehow managed to gain knowledge of the bigger picture at work, the reality of the nature of your existence and his.

Perhaps he begins to think it's unfair. To suffer again and again. To prove himself again and again, and not always even to reap any benefits, to work so hard and yet still -- still -- you slip out of his grasp. He longs for a life with no tribulations, no struggle, no fights to be fought. He begins to feel like it's what he wants the most. He begins to feel like maybe it's what he deserves. So many lifetimes of struggles, if the higher powers won't give him a reward, he'll take it himself.

And perhaps, for all their higher power, not even the great goddesses themselves would have ever predicted it -- humans are ultimately creatures of will. To defy fate and to run away from destiny -- it wouldn't be the first time a human has tried such a thing. Sure, Hyrule may be destroyed. The people may all die. There may be nothing left. But you know what? He's stopped caring. If you're alive and he's alive, tucked away in your little corner of the world where you've found respite, well, that's all he needs. Even if you're on the run from forces that would want to find you, even if the threat of the final third of the triforce owner looms over your head. He'll ignore it, he'll look away.

You'll live a quiet little life together, a happy life without suffering, without quests and enemies, without strife, without worry. That's what he tells you when he steals you away, lifts you out of your bed one night. Says to be quiet, there's danger outside your door, he's rescuing you. You have no reason to not believe him. He waits until things go down, a castle under siege, but rather than taking you to where you're supposed to go, he climbs onto the horse and starts... riding away. It gets further and further into the distance, and you might ask why, what's going on? You have a job to do, he has a battle to be fought. But he says you're going far, far away, someplace you'll be safe.

But what about the divine beasts, the seals, the Twilight, whatever threat runs in this world in this time, what about the threat of Ganon, you ask? He says it doesn't matter anymore. You were doomed to fail, he thinks, it's either stay here and die, or run away. All that matters is you. And he'd like you to feel the same way for him. You will with enough time, don't worry.

He just wants this happy, quiet life with you that he’s been denied time and time again. It’s all he wants. If fate won’t give it to him, he’ll make it happen himself, and carve out the life he is determined to have, defying even the will of higher power.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He gets it. Really, he does. "Stop following me!" You yell. Well, he understands why you might feel that way, but this is kinda his job. He thinks you're naive. Not that he would ever, ever have a thought that you're imperfect, of course! It's because you're so perfect and pure that you're... less aware of the dangers all around.

He'll let you think you're free, perhaps. He's more than capable of being quiet, quiet is kind of his thing. Watching you from a short distance is easy. Of course, his horse might make a noise, he can't really help that, or he might misstep on a branch or something. And then you turn around and get all mad again. Now you're even more angry. Well, he can also tell your guardians/father, who will encourage you to accept it. You can't help but feel a little bad -- he's just doing his job.

Now, our aware, runaway Link, well, does he really need to keep you restrained? What would you go back to? Certain death, a land destroyed? Sometimes you mention home, and he's quick to remind you that home doesn't exist anymore. His home is where you are. Can't you feel the same way? You found peace here in this little place -- a village far far away. Travelers, you call yourselves. What's the point in going elsewhere? How would you ever survive without him? He's not very good at being subtle or skillful about the psychological manipulation, it's obvious he's trying to scare you into not leaving, but... it still works, because really, he has a point.

He doesn't want to have to use physical restraint, in any case. And for the most part, it's not needed, because one important aspect of your relation is that his job kinda revolves around you (in some incarnations), or, perhaps you live in the same little village, but either way the thing is that his presence does the job well enough -- he's always there, perhaps more so than almost any other yandere. Even when you think you've managed to get away from him for a moment, somehow his face pops up out of nowhere. How he manages to pull it off is a mystery, you swear he manages to find you so well and predict your movements it's inhuman.

But if you really, really pose a problem, a smarter and sneakier darling that somehow manages to keep slipping out of his grasp and running off (you never get away for more than about 20 minutes or so, but nonetheless), you keep trying to run off when he's sleeping (he wakes up in approximately 25 seconds if your presence is absent from the bed, but that's still enough time to run out the front door), every time he turns his head (which isn't often) you're trying to disappear... well, in that case, he can reach a point of deciding more straightforward measures are necessary. He hates to do it, really, at least when he's not yet at a snapping point. But it's for your own good. And he says so, quite apologetically.

But it's not so bad, it's not like you're being chained to a wall or anything. For one, he got leather ties so you'd be more comfortable, but more importantly, as your guardian, he figured the best thing for you to be tied to would be... himself. Think of it like friendship bracelets! It's just... got a 5-foot chain connecting them. This way you can't sneak off at night, and you won't get too far when he's distracted. It's a safety measure.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

He's a learner. At first, it's easy. Honestly, he is a rather naive, gullible boy, sometimes he reminds you of a happy dog with his bright eyes. He likes to believe the best of people, give them the benefit of the doubt in all circumstances, and that goes double for you, who he believes can do no wrong.

And even when you do lie to him, it's still not wrong. You didn't do anything bad. Clearly there has simply been a misunderstanding, and you thought you had to lie. Or perhaps you simply forgot a detail or were confusing something with something else. It wasn't malicious on your end, he knows that.

He's actually significantly smarter than he lets on in practical knowledge, though. Those dungeon puzzles pay off, you know? He's got pattern recognition down. So over time he learns how to distinguish when you're lying to him or attempting to deceive him, and sees through it increasingly well.

And yet, he doesn't really... get mad over it, most of the time. Again, he's just capable of deluding himself into believing there's a reason. He believes so strongly in your goodness that he finds a way to interpret everything you do as out of benevolence. So you snuck out the window and didn't tell him you were going for a walk because you just wanted to get away from his suffocating presence for once? You were just thinking of him. You didn't want to burden him and wanted to give him a break. Well, that's thoughtful, but don't worry, he doesn't need a break. He thinks it's precious you're so considerate of him though!

You don't tell him you were talking to that person, and you lie and say no when he asks, because you don't want him to worry, and because you underestimate how dangerous others can be. He's told you a million times and you don't listen, but that's ok, it's because you're just so pure you see the best in everyone. Everything you do is good.

Because he perceives your lies, he will still work against and around it. He won't confront you on your lies, he'll just make sure to deal with the situation -- you lied about sneaking out, well, he'll just keep watch and be ready to meet you outside next time. You lied about talking to a person, well, he'll just have to make sure they stay away from you instead.

If you're trying to trick him, he just plays along until necessary. Smiles and nods. He gets the suspicion you're planning a break-out when he told you he was leaving to go get something from town... rather than saying so, he just decides, you know what? Why don't you come with him? Oh, you're feeling sick, you tell him it's ok, go without you? Well, he can't leave you alone then! Because you're clearly not and just trying to get him to leave... or, as he says, he can't just leave you alone. He'll go another day.

He's fairly manipulable when it comes to praise and affection. You can easily Pavlov him into certain behaviors or patterns with just the slightest words of praise and affection. He's not a very outwardly expressive person, tends to stay quiet, but you can tell how he feels inside when you give the slightest praise, a hug, a kiss on the cheek -- you can see that soft hint of a smile and tell that inside, he's basically melting, even if it's not obvious to most people. And, much like the lying, he’s honestly often aware of it, but he just can’t help it.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He tries to get you the things that he feels will make you happy. Your happiness is incredibly important to him, and he usually thinks about how any action he plans to take might affect you, spends a lot of time debating choices of things to do or say and try to determine how each one will affect you and choose accordingly.

As such, he goes out of his way to support the things you want to do. Have a hobby? He'll find the best materials available. Want a book or a food? He'll obtain it through some means. Even if procuring it involves a side-quest-y set of mundane tasks or scouring the world for 70 of this and 50 of that to exchange it for the item from an obscure specialist, it's all worth it.

The only thing he just doesn't give up on is the constant vigilance and insistence on being by your side more or less every waking second. And every sleeping second. And just every single moment you're alive. It's for your safety.

This is actually one of the things he can get a little nasty about when it comes to how he deals with it, because he quickly has the bright idea that if you don't get it, he'll make you understand. Of course, he can't actually risk you getting hurt, so he stages it. Allows you to sneak off, or at least think you have, and walk right into the path of those monsters he lured, or the people he hired to intimidate you. Of course, it's only natural that he shows up at the last possible second, right on time to save you. You should expect that, after all, it's his responsibility to protect you, of course fate works out perfectly like this. See, he was right, it's so dangerous, and without him you'd be dead. Hopefully you grasp that now.

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

His is mostly related to vigilance. Where are you? Who have you been talking to? Who was that person you were talking with just now? What did they say? He's not nosy. He just cares about you. It’s in the job description. You ought to understand just how much certain bad people would love to find you and hurt you. That's why he has to know.

This isn't our modern world, so there's no phones or tracking devices to speak of, just himself, which, well, might as well be a tracking device since he never seems to have difficulty finding you. Sometimes you're not sure how he does it.

He tells you that you don't have to be with him 24/7, but you will be, even if you don't realize it. He's aware enough to know that you'll feel suffocated and get mad if you're aware of his presence all the time, so he gives you your "alone" time, aka, the "follow her quietly from a 20+ foot distance" time. It all feels the same to you. Well, sometimes you feel eyes on you, but you shake the feeling off as paranoia.

So it's not so much that he sets rules and reacts when they're broken, but rather, he works his way around anything you might do so well that he doesn't need you to follow his rules, or really, you take them more as suggestions. But honestly, that's kind of worse. It's enough to drive a darling to the brink of a mental breakdown very quickly. With Link you will inevitably become paranoid, nervous, you feel like you're going insane because he manages to pop up everywhere, he always knows what you did when you did it and you have no idea how it is even conceivably possible for him to know some of the things that he knows. He confronts you very plainly and quietly, often sweetly, asking why you did this or that or telling you it's ok, you don't have to hide anything, surely there’s a good reason, and if not, he forgives you anyway. In a way, it's worse than an angry confrontation. You begin to feel like he's omnipresent, like he can read your mind, and it truly takes a mental toll and affect you worse than any normal yandere's concept of punishment.

This ultimately works out well in his favor. The more you just do what he wants, the less it feels like a violation or intrusion that he knows these things, since he was there with you, it makes sense, and you continuously get bent to his will.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Ah, and thus we get to that brutality rating.

It would be unthinkable to think that any sort of scum would even dare. Even he isn't worthy of being with you, and someone else thinks they could be? So, he more or less views "rivals" as an offense. When they're threats, well, he's allowed to deal with them. When they're not, well... he has a wonderful reputation. If he says he overheard that person planning usurpation or assassination, that they realized he was listening in and wildly attacked him, everyone will believe him. Even if the death seems a little... non-immediate. And uh... frankly... overkill. How exactly... did those limbs get perfectly severed during equally armed combat? And was it... really necessary... to kinda spill entrails all over like that? He'll apologize, of course, he was just so outraged by the thought of someone hurting you or your family, you know? You notice his eye twitches a bit as he says it.

He has a lot of... bottled up frustrations, which we'll touch on in the nsfw section as well, but it tends to manifest in those two ways: sex and violence. Rather than exerting stress and anger and frustration as it comes, he lets it fester. He tries to maintain being the noble, humble, self-sacrificing person he feels he should be. That is... difficult to do for a long time. People expect a lot from him, even in timelines where he's not necessarily realized as the hero quite yet, he usually has a lot of responsibilities. But then you tack on the whole hero thing? The weight of the world is sometimes, quite literally, on his shoulders. Do you have any idea the kind of stress that comes with that knowledge? It's not pleasant. And it quickly bottles up, a very very fragile bottle set to eventually shatter in a matter of time.

On a longer sort of quest, he just kinda... leaves a trail of destruction in his wake. Enemies don't actually just poof out of existence the way they do on-screen, you know. Anyone coming across an area he's just been through is met with literal piles upon piles of corpses, sometimes monsters, but sometimes people. He takes a very scorched earth sort of policy when it comes to dealing with things.

He's able to easily get close to people, with that sweet face and puppy eyes and lithe body, people don't really feel on guard around him nor intimidated. That makes it significantly easier to infiltrate enemy hideouts, earn favors, and work his way in to be able to commit mass murder more easily. Granted, no one thinks too much of it because they *are* truly enemies, after all, they *did* need to be taken out and well, if the rulers can choose to either send a group of ten soldiers or just one guy and get the job done equally well either way, they'll go with the latter option. No one thinks anything of it, except the occasional person who laughs and says something to the effect of remind me to never get on your bad side, haha! He gives that sheepish, sweet little smile, and jokingly tells them that yeah, better not.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

For you, nearly impossible. For others, at a hair trigger.

For the most part, he conceals anger well until, as aforementioned, it bottles up and bursts. The truth is he gets irritated virtually all the time by other people. People who talk to you. Look at you. Smile at you. He’s actually rather easily annoyed even when you’re not involved, but again, he’s good at hiding it until it builds.

His rage has a commonality with his calm -- it's quiet. At least, at first. When it's directed at others, his eyes narrow. It's the telltale sign that someone has ignited his rage. It burns on the inside, it starts off as a spark that builds and builds and grows larger and larger until it's a blazing fire that consumes everything in his path. It's a loss of composure, a rare moment of complete loss of self-control. From his own perspective, it feels like he's not in control of his own body, it's all a blur happening in front of him and when it's over he's looking down at his own hands, unable to process his own actions, sometimes unable to remember them.

But it's violent, merciless, unforgiving. It does not yield to begging, it does not leave anything alive unless forced to. You remember the first time you realized how unnatural it was, how shocked you were at how he did something that certainly went against the code he was sworn to follow, the very first time you felt truly afraid of Link. It was a walk in town -- someone called out to you, spitting obscenities about you and your family, your lineage, threw something at you -- he caught it in his hand and crushed it, and quickly, without a word, advanced on the offender. And, to make a long story short, you had to prevent him from beating a man to death in public in broad daylight. He was forgiven by his superiors, but even they seemed shocked. You had to pull him off, and when he jerked his head around to look at whatever was stopping him -- before his face softened as he recognized your own face -- the split second you saw the burn of hatred and fury in eyes that were normally so soft and loving, was nothing short of unsettling, you still recall the chill that ran down your spine.

And honestly? It's terrifying. And the first time, it's shocking. Sure, you knew he could fight. You've seen him fight off monsters, bokoblins and lizalfos and the like. But something is different about seeing the blood of a human being run down his sword, dripping onto the ground, to see the bodies and the blank, numb gaze on his features he always has after it's over. The absolute lack of hesitancy he has to run human enemies through before they even have a chance to explain themselves, how unbothered he seems by the carnage left in his wake. The way he turns back to you, drenched in red and smiles, tells you it's ok, you're safe now. There's no need to look so scared.

And it changes how you view him, in the long run. Less of a guardian angel, more of a guardian dog, one that defends your name when you never asked him to. Pleads to tell him not to fall on deaf ears -- you just don't understand why it has to be this way, he says, you can't comprehend the threat they posed. From the sweet boy that leaves you flowers and repairs and instead leaves a wave of destruction in his path you would not have thought possible.

Directed towards you, though, it's entirely different. He tries his best to have patience with you, no matter what. He smiles, he tries to make excuses as to why you'd say this or do that, why you'd feel a certain way, and he's rather good at deluding himself to give you the benefit of the doubt.

But when it reaches an end, when he can no longer lie to himself, when you push it to a point that you truly make him mad, it's more of a snap. The times he'll lay hands on you in a truly violent way are rare, and as aforementioned, very brief. It's usually not so much of actually a blow, so much as a grab. He just can't get what he's trying to tell you through your thick head, so he stresses it, trying to make you understand as he grabs you by the upper arms, shaking you with each word, and he only stops when he sees the pain and fear in your eyes, drawing his hands back at lightning speed. He saves you from some danger very narrowly, one of the few times he lost track of you for a moment and had to frantically search before coming across you being attacked. What would I have done if something happened to you? Don't you understand that? He's so lost in the relief it takes him a moment to feel you beating on his arms in the embrace, choking and wheezing that you can't breathe, that his grip is so tight it feels like he'll snap you in half. He draws back again, and he apologizes, but it will certainly happen more than once.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Above. Like, so, so, so far above. He feels like he doesn't even deserve to look at you. Of course, neither does anyone else, so he's just, you know, stepping up to bear the burden of wrongdoing to keep people even worse than him away from you.

So it's less that you're just above him so much as you're above everyone. He's actually, perhaps surprisingly, a little bit of a pessimist about the world. The world is full of so many terrible people and so many horrible things happen that he's borne witness to. It's a "world cold and hard, (y/n) soft and warm" sort of thing. You're the one good thing, the thing that makes him happy, the ultimate source of comfort he has, and he has to prevent you from being defiled by the evil of the world, keep you innocent and sweet (even if he's just deluding himself to think you are those things in the first place).

This ties into, again, how he interprets every action you take as good and benevolent -- he has the "you can do no wrong" mentality. Even very blatantly malicious things, he'll interpret in a way that makes you somehow still come out a perfect, innocent angel. If you do harm to others, well, they simply deserved it. You did something technically wrong, but you knew no better, or you were desperate. You can't be held responsible for any of it. And if you're mean to him, well, he probably did something to make you upset.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

Sort of a duality. Yes, he's very persistent. He thinks about it all the time. Every time you yell and try to run and hurl nasty insults at him, it hurts far more than you realize. He doesn't let it show on his face or in his voice, but it really does, and it gets to him sometimes. He's hyper observant of every little thing you do, your body language, your tone, the way you look at him, and the slightest of differences can change his mood internally, although it tends to look the same outwardly.

He makes little mental notes of it -- today she didn't flinch when I touched her shoulder. Today she didn't frown when she saw me coming. Little things like that will make his entire day. Likewise, the inverse kills him inside. He aims to make every day one of the former days, where the littlest signs of acceptance or even kindness and affection give him a sort of high that makes him feel like he's floating.

He tries his best to do things that he thinks will, well, earn love. Every opportunity to do something for you, he takes it. Everything he sees he'd think you'd like, he buys (or steals, or... loots from a dead body) for you. On and on that idea goes. And although he doesn't say too much, when he does speak to you, he usually has something nice to say. He views it in a formulaic way -- ironically, think about it like those collectibles in overworlds. You get enough of this or that thing, and once you have enough, you can go talk to this or that person and donate them all and get a reward, right? He's accustomed to viewing things that way. Love should be the same way. If he just completes enough tasks and gathers enough items, eventually he'll unlock your love.

That being said, even if it doesn't happen, much to your despair, he just... doesn't. Give. Up. He doesn't quit. No matter how many times you tell him, it doesn't make a difference. You can tell him you'll never love him, and it's like it goes in one ear and out the other. He keeps trying. And he never, ever, ever stops trying. What did you expect? The boy's been fighting the same enemy over and over across lifetimes, needless to say his spirit has build up some persistence.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Bonus: Zelda/Triforce of Wisdom Darling

And don't worry. If it all goes wrong, when he fails, those divergences in time where the hero is vanquished and evil wins out -- it's not the end. Somehow, that's the feeling he gets, holding your little lifeless body up, running hands across your cold skin. Somehow, he feels oddly calm. Like it hurts, but it's ok. Like he'll see you again. Maybe not soon, but one day. This time didn't work out. But the next one will.

And that's the feeling you'll always have. Every time you meet him and you feel like you've met before, the lingering memories when you wake from your dreams -- flying through skies and sailing on oceans, a child, an adult, a boy you've never met, or one you've known all your life, but it's always the same face, the same voice, the one right beside you in the waking world. You sometimes wonder if he has the same feelings, the same dreams, the same sense of something greater than yourselves at work, the sense of being just smaller pieces in a much bigger picture.

The sense of permanency, that each other is all there will ever be -- regardless of how it makes you feel, regardless of how that scares you, sometimes you feel like you can never be free. Sometimes, when you think of running away, those dark moments when you think of even escaping from life itself, it feels futile. It's as if you know it would never hold him away forever. As if death is insignificant. Perhaps in this lifetime, you'll become aware of why that is, or perhaps not.

With other obsessive lovers, just the idea of til death do us part is a terrifying thought. But, for Link, not even death can keep him away from you. Your suffering is already determined by the will of higher power, for the sake of a greater good. 

In truth, it’s the goddesses who made him this way intentionally -- it’s designed to ensure your safety, even at the cost of your suffering. Again, for a greater good. Sure, you may live one lifetime to the next desperately locked in the same cycle in which your freedom and will is stripped from you, but in the end, it serves a purpose. 

Nor will he change -- perhaps this one this time is a bit more spirited, more calm, more pessimistic, more optimistic... but in the end, at their core, they're the same soul, with the same will deep, deep down. The same drive to find you and protect you. The same love for you, an all-consuming love that destroys everything in its path to you and leaves ruin in its wake.

And if fate should one day keep you apart, should things change, for whatever reason, it’s unable to change him. There's another force even more powerful than fate determined to keep you together. The only thing more unavoidable, inevitable, and unescapable than fate, is Link himself.

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General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

In moments of passion, he changes a bit, unlike other more submissive yans who stay consistent in their reverence and desire to please.

You see, after a while, being as lenient and tolerant and flexible and completely devoted as he is... constantly self-sacrificing in so many ways, to you, to Hyrule, to the world... some frustrations build up. It's a big, big bottle of emotion, all tucked away and festering, getting greater and greater and eventually it has to explode somehow.

His reservations and inhibitions fall away. Perhaps a darker, more selfish side comes out. Perhaps that's why he's so rough. He knows he'll regret it later, the bruises from how hard he grips, the marks from the bites, but the hormones and the heat takes over. He'll feel bad for defiling you. He'll apologize. And he'll do it again. And again. And again.

But once the resolve crumbles, it topples. That is, he can't partially maintain it -- if it's partially gone, it falls apart completely. He lets go, so to speak. And when he lets go, you find that underneath that carefully constructed resolve and willpower that holds him back, he can be a very, very rough and possessive lover. In his normal state, he wouldn't dare think of you as a possession, or as something he's even worthy of. He would like so, so much to think that, to feel like he's allowed to -- but he doesn't. He chastises himself for even having such a desire. But in those moments, when his resolve is gone and his brain isn't thinking quite too clearly, he might even have to audacity to say "mine." Even if it's not true, not now, maybe it will be. He would like that so much. His and his alone.

And in a moment of clarity, he might even throw away the inhibition on purpose. The more selfish side, the same Link that drags you away from your destiny -- he's already forsaken his responsibilities, hasn't he? Why care anymore about the structures that no longer exist, your status and his, if there's no kingdom left? He likes that it happened, even. This way, this time, you can throw off those titles, those roles. Without your status, your title, there's nothing stopping him from making you his. And you will be his, and nothing more. It's all you need to be. So he doesn't have to care anymore about any of that, he doesn't have to stop himself from going wild. Biting into every little spare patch of skin, covering your body with marks that make him feel comforted to see.

As far as drive it's a bit of a two-sided duality. Outwardly he's not a very sexual person at all, blushes and stutters and averts his gaze at the slightest mention of suggestive topics, tries his best to be Respectful(tm) by always looking away when you're in a compromising position, or your skirt flies up, etc etc. Given how constant his vigilance is, he has a tendency to accidentally walk in on your changing or bathing, except unlike with many yanderes, it's genuinely an accident. Not that the image doesn't stick in his mind, nor does he wish he hadn't gotten to see, but he does feel guilty, and it was genuinely unintentional. He kinda freezes up, so it takes a moment for him to actually snap out of it and run out.

That being said, he quickly develops something of a masturbation addiction when he's younger, it starts as more of a stress reliever than anything, He's so sweet and always feels bad about talking about his problems and feelings, so that and, well, violence are the only ways he can get it out. Thus he learns to channel stress and nerves into sexuality, and once he has a real living body and not just his hand, that dependency on cumming to relieve it doesn't change.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Particularly so, yes, cares quite a bit. And it takes a while for him to feel comfortable. Even consensually, the first few times he touches you for several months, he's got trembling hands and stays quieter than ever, constantly freezes up every time you move or make a noise because he thinks he's done something wrong. He has to be coaxed into feeling more comfortable before he gets used to it, but he will build confidence over time.

As addressed before, though, if he's pushed and pushed and pushed long enough, you can get a darker side to come out. This is most likely something that would only occur post-kidnapping in a distant time, once he's far away from any possibility of consequence and destruction has set in to the world around you. He starts to get a little bitter, if you've been mean to him. It all builds up. Don't you get that he's literally saved your life? That he devoted every waking second to you? Isn't he kinda entitled to some thanks? The cycle of time never rewards him. Even the figures he helps over time rarely give him more than a verbal praise and thanks, maybe an item here or there, and then disappear. His role feels thankless. He starts to feel like he deserves something, something tangible, in return.

Surprisingly, though, he actually does not take the route of guilt-tripping or emotional manipulation or gaslighting his way into it like a lot of the sweeter yanderes when he does have that snap. His snaps/breakdowns are rather extreme in terms of how much of a polar opposite they are to his normal state, rather than just a slight bend of his normal personality. Rather than taking the route of most yanderes like himself, he just gets directly physically forceful. Still somewhat sweet, though, reminds you he loves you, he'd die for you, you're his entire world. You'd argue that doesn't really change the actions, but considering how frightening he is in that state, you're not dumb enough to vocalize that.

The guilt consumes him alive afterwards. Like, immediately afterwards. He's still panting and twitching and buried inside when it sets in. That being said, he doesn't get to stuttering and profusely apologizing, like he does over smaller offenses. It's all done and he can't take it back, so he just kinda collapses and says nothing. He's not the best with words, you know. It's an odd mixture of guilt and, honestly, a bit of satisfaction and relief. It feels like letting go of some self-imposed burden, that feeling of finally surrendering to some deep want, even if it comes with a lot of remorse, the relief of finally letting go does have a good feeling as well... and because of that, it’s another one of those barriers that, once broken, can’t be built up again.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

In all honesty the boy is, for the most part, a fairly gentle and vanilla lover. He doesn't really need anything special to get off -- he's easily excited and cums very very easily too. Just the prospect of getting to stick his dick in you in any capacity is enough to make him nearly burst at the thought honestly.

In general, as aforementioned, he's very very cautious and gentle to a point, but has a tendency to get actually kinda rough once he gets into it. The thing is, the roughness aspect is actually unintentional. He's one of those boys that is a little bit unaware of his own strength, doesn't process exactly how hard and fast he's going. He just gets lost in the feeling, kinda enters a dazed lusty haze where he's less aware of his actions. Doesn't realize he's literally got an iron grip pressing your head down on his dick or into the bed until you start flailing your hands because you can't breathe. Doesn't realize how hard he was gripping until he sees the bruises on your arms and hips later. That sort of deal -- poor thing is just unaware and doesn't have enough blood in his brain to think straight.

Biting

Surprisingly a really big one for him. (Remnants of a past life cycle with some lupine experiences perhaps?) In all seriousness, he could not explain exactly why if asked, it's one of those "I just like it" sort of things. It feels like yet another way to conjoin the two bodies, pulls you close. The marking aspect is also nice. Granted, he feels guilty afterwards, tries to help it heal. He has that same duality where moments ago he was this intimidating beast of a human being, rough and growly and jerking you like you were weightless, and now he's back to this bright eyed softie stuttering while he apologizes.

The guilt is mixed with a bit of enjoyment, though. It's constantly conflicting -- sure, part of him understands it's embarrassing and will help you cover up, but part of him doesn't want to, he wants people to see. Part of him looks at the marks and tells himself internally to never do that again, and part of him sees them and just wants to give you even more. It's a constant internal conflict, poor thing.

As far as a place, he likes the neck and shoulders best, simply because it's the most visible and it's the most passionate ones to create, when your bodies are tightly locked together. That being said, though, he also has a thing for biting at the insides of your thighs. It's another one of those I just like it sort of things.

Sometimes, when you're asleep, or pretending to be, you can feel him trace the bite marks with his fingers, softly running them over the circular pattern, just enough to barely ghost over your flesh.

Somnophilia

It puts him at ease. This one is particularly prevalent towards the beginning of your relationship, before you really know... how he is. He has this image of you as so pure and he couldn't bear the thought of defiling you with his horrible horrible thoughts. The guilt eats away at him for a while, but eventually he just can't hold back, but how could he ever do anything to you and risk consequence? So... the solution he comes up with is waiting until you sleep.

He tests the waters to see how heavy of a sleeper you are. Calls your name at increasing volume, lightly runs his fingers over your hair, pokes your face, whispers in your ear, runs his hands over your arms. Just to see what makes you rustle, if anything, so he knows the limits. If it turns out you're an incredibly light sleeper, well, unfortunately that means he's limited to just jerking off to your sleeping form, but that's ok. Just seeing your soft face and the cute way you breathe, the slightest way your lips open, that's enough for him.

If it turns out you're a heavier sleeper though, well, he tries to fight the temptation, but ends up going further. Slowly climbs onto your bed, careful to make the weight shift as gently as possible. Slowly pulls the covers back. Runs his hands up and down. It's a lot better when he can actually see your body as he jerks off, honestly. If he's feeling particularly risky, he might press your thighs together, feel how soft your skin is to his cock, how nice the squeezing pressure between them is.

He gets easily lost in a haze, though, so he inevitably ends up accidentally cumming on you and has to frantically find a way to lightly dab it up without waking you. He panics quite a bit, but that doesn't stop him from doing it again the very next night.

Overstimulation/Forced Orgasm

It just means he's doing a good job, really. Sure, you squeal and kick your feet back and forth and tug at his hair, but that's just because it feels good. Orgasms equate to love and feel good, right? Sure there's a little bit of pain when you go overboard, but then it just leads to feeling even better, right?

It's kind of an irrational compulsion rather than a logical goal, though. He just has an impulsive need to feel you quiver and spasm and clench, it basically gives him a chemical high hit and a wave of reassurance, makes him feel good in both the physical sense and the emotional sense. The first one sends him into this compulsive need to feel it over and over and over again, as many times as he can. It's another one of his internal conflict things -- sure, he knows it's hurting, but he just has to get one more. Just one more. But of course, every time turns into "just one more" when he's been saying that for half an hour now.

And, to be honest, it kind of gives him a pride boost to think he can make you cum against your will. How many people struggle to achieve that even when both parties are trying? It makes him feel good in an adequacy sort of way, he feels needed.

Size Kink/Distension

You know, there's a well-known thing among the male-lovers in this world when it comes to size. It's never the arrogant, loud guys, it's never the social butterflies, it's never the tall guys, it's never the beefy muscly guys. No, they're not the ones that end up somehow bestowed with absolute monster cocks. It's always the soft, lean boys who don't talk much. And they're always painfully unaware of it, too.

He's no exception. Not to the size or the complete lack of awareness. He hasn't spent a lot of time around guys his age too much, he's always been the one sent for some special task and ends up out in the wilderness by himself on journeys, or, in some lifetimes, accompanying you most of the time. He doesn't know what the average dick looks like, so he has no idea he's far above average.

This might sound like a plus, and of course in some ways it is, but also he doesn't think about the fact that the average body isn't properly equipped to handle it. You're supposed to just kinda put it in, that's how the sex works, right? Poor thing, especially if it's entirely consensual sex, he's just kinda ???? because why are you in pain? What is he doing wrong? You have to eventually explain it's literally just his body, not something he's doing.

That being said, naturally, he's a humble person, but hearing you say that does kinda... make him feel good inside. A little bit proud. He's not a person who takes a lot of pride in many things, so he likes having this one thing, and quickly notices you can visibly see it through the bulge it makes in your stomach. Especially if it's in a position where your back is pressed to his front, every little movement creates the bulge, so expect to get a lot of that.

He doesn't really bring it up much or talk about it when he's actually fucking you, it's more like, as with many things, something he's quietly aware of and silently enjoys a lot internally, even if it's not voiced.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Yes and no. It has to do with his overactive protection instinct. What if something happened or went wrong? He couldn't take that. He couldn't lose you.

At the same time, he likes kids, and he's very good with them, very patient. And over time, realizes that a kid would be the perfect tool of manipulation, and besides that, isn't it a beautiful thing, an ultimate manifestation of love?

So how to work around that... Ultimately, what he decides to do is have a kid... Just not by blood. There are plenty of orphans in Hyrule, wandering the streets and the wilderness, picking one up is easy. ...You wouldn't leave this poor child to suffer out there, to fend for themselves, would you? Nor would you leave him to take care of it by himself... Right?

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

Oh, it's not like he thinks of it that way. He would call it... a reminder. You put yourself in danger again? You tried to go back again? You were gone and for ten whole minutes he didn't know where you were? What could the solution to this issue be? The only thing his brain can really come up with is making sure you need him. Making sure you're content and satisfied here with him so you don't go running off.

Thus we return to the forced orgasm thing -- see, you do need him. It feels good, right? You say it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but ultimately you wouldn't be cumming if it wasn't good. No one else can ever do that. No one else knows you like this. No one else was made for you like this. You can't replace him. You need him. And he can keep going as many times as it takes until you see that, too. Even if he gets milked dry, he has a mouth and hands for a reason.

And by "until you see that," I mean until you say it. In his more... emotionally intense moments, he gets a bit insistent. He needs to hear you say it. Admit it to yourself. And to him. That you need him, that you depend on him, that you'll never leave again. And don't think your patience and tolerance can stand a chance of outlasting his -- it will keep going until you say it.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

He's one of those wholesome type of boys who goes with something sweet. He says maybe your hair, your face, your skin, your eyes. It's all so comforting. So familiar. Of course, not to say that he doesn't like your less wholesome mentionable parts, but he wants to be chivalric about such a question, and feels answering that way would be too disrespectful.

In his unspoken thoughts, though, he likes the hips. It's a part of you he can grab onto and hold you close with. He puts his hands there a lot and holds tight, like he feels like at any moment you could slip out of his grasp. And, I mean, it's nice to look at, can't forget that.

#atml #scheduled post #yandere x reader #yandere legend of zelda #yandere link

[asmo-ds]

Can I request if your open, the demon bros reacting to MC revealing they/she's had Vampire, monster men, Siren, and Fae lovers before meeting them? Like, they're playing truth or dare and someone asks MC about their love life and MC just casually reveals their/her long list of ex-lovers, apparently the paranormal beings are not as discreet as they think they are.

MC having non-human Ex-lovers

Warnings: Monster fucking time :^))), kind of spicy in Satan and Asmodeus’s

Summary: How the avatars of sin react to finding out MC has a long history of dating monsters and other non-human beings (and no I don’t mean MC is a furry jahdljfhakjfhdjk)

A/N: SOME OF THE EXES ARE GIRLS IN THIS AND SOME ARE BOYS !!! just a warning :) also the monster fucker in me jumped out in this 

- MC was running late when they were supposed to be on their way home from running a quick errand 

- So he was pacing on the front doorstep like a concerned mother, watching the end of the street for the familiar face to turn and rush towards the house, running back to him apologizing for being away from him so long

- What he WASN’T expecting was to see MC turning down the street with a werewolf that appeared to get along a little too well with his MC

- When they got to the front door, still chatting and gigging together, Lucifer cleared his throat loudly

- The werewolf looked frightened, quickly saying his goodbyes to the human before rushing away

- When he drags MC inside, lecturing them on talking to such dangerous creatures and trusting so easily, until he hears them snickering

- “Yea I guess I shouldn’t trust him after how much he hurt me back then,” they say with a agitated look, clearly remembering some pretty upsetting memories, “I mean who text dumps their significant other over text after three years of dating, hmph typical boys..”

- “Significant other.... ???” Lucifer looks at them in shock. “You mean you’ve dated... monsters?” Confusion and a small glimmer of hope hidden behind his cold gaze.

- This means MC would be willing to be with such a big bad beast as himself.

- MC starts to list off multiple species they’ve dated and Lucifer feels his heart speed up knowing that MC had enough experience with monsters to even consider being with him

- If MC is that interested in monsters, then he’ll just have to prove he’s more of a monster than any of those other fools from their past

- Is much more comfortable walking around casually in his demon form, and even tries to look more demonic just to impress the human and gain their attention

- At the end of the day he does inform Diavolo of the recklessness of paranormal creatures in the human realm and how poorly they hide and urges him to ensure the those monsters keep their species hidden better

- MC had skipped their last class with some guy according to their classmates who he questioned about the human’s whereabouts

- He headed to the rooftop of RAD, knowing if they were led by someone who was from here they were probably brought there for privacy 

- He sees them talking and giggling with some vampire and Mammon felt a pang of jealousy and a bit of fear

- “Oi! Stay away from my human you blood sucker!” Stands between MC and the Vampire defensively

- “You’re human?” The vampire smirks, “I got to them long before you, pretty boy,” Hands are about to be thrown

- When MC explains that they knew him and trust he won’t hurt them because they used to date Mammon just >:O

- But then he gets a bit excited knowing MC wouldn’t reject him for being a monster

- Still sends death glares towards the vampire extremely often to make sure he realizes that since he dumped MC he doesn’t get another chance with them

- When he realizes MC practically only dates monster his head just about explodes

- He really wasn’t expecting this from the puny human, Solomon maybe, but an average joe like MC??? 

- Warns MC about the danger they’re putting themselves in

- “Oh so you’re saying that for my own safety I shouldn’t go on a date with you tonight?” “w-W-WAIT MC THAT AIN’T WHAT I SAID!”

- Was hanging out with MC playing video games for their weekly otaku sleep overs 

- Mid-game a siren is introduced as the villain and Levi rolls his eyes because he knows how annoying the sirens could be

- “Wow! She’s just like my ex!” Mc shouts pointing at the siren

- “How so?” Levi asks assuming MC was about to roast their ex by comparing them to the monster

- When MC responds with “because she’s a bitchy siren,” Levi almost spits out his drink

- “Haha, you mean she’s loud and manipulative?” He questions trying to find reason in their statement

- “yea that and the fact they’re a siren,” MC shrugs

- MC is a monster fucker?!?!??! Levi.exe has stopped working

- When MC starts to list of all sorts of powerful beings they’d been with he can feel jealousy boiling up inside of himself and he can’t help but want to prove he is stronger than MC’s exes

- Stays in his demon form almost 90% of the time now because he thinks MC will like it (which they do)

- If they ever see one of MC’s exes out in public he gets jealous if they look scarier than himself

~KINDA SLIGHT NSFW BEWARE~

- Satan was browsing the shelves of RAD’s library when he heard hushed voices from behind the bookshelf.

- “So wait, tell me again how you know MC?” A succubi asks an incubus quietly

- “Oh we used to date,” They continue to discuss MC and how MC had dated a lot of monsters in the past apparently and he stormed home ready to get answers

- He couldn’t help but smirk a bit on his way home, if MC wanted a monster, he would give them a monster

- He walks towards their room in demon form, not bothering to knock as he slams open MC’s door

- He looms over MC who is sitting at their desk looking at him with curious eyes

- “Hi, Satan, you should really knock you know-””How many monsters have you been with?”

- MC freezes at the question, a bit embarrassed that their past had made its way into the House of Lamentation

-Satan pulls them to a standing position and pushes them against the wall, leaning into their ear and nipping it before speaking

-”So kitten likes to play with the big bad wolves, huh?” He asks the human who stared up at him with a flustered yet loving gaze. “Lucky for you, you’ve got the biggest and the baddest of them all right here, kitten~”

- Spends all night showing his power over them and letting himself be a monster around them (after ensuring they wanted it of course, he’s a monster, not an asshole)

- Makes sure all of MC’s ex lovers who reside in the Devildom know that he doesn’t plan on letting the human go and they’re happier with him than they were with any of their exes

- They were having a sleepover and were waiting for facemasks to dry

- While waiting Asmodeus suggested they play truth or dare and MC agrees

- MC picks truth and Asmo goes for a question that had been plaguing his mind for a long time

- “have you ever been with a monster?” When MC responds with a shy little “yea” he gets super excited and squeals

- asks for all the details of who hey dated, what species they were, if it was serious between them or not

- They actually discovered they had a bunch of exes in common and had to make a timeline to realize one of the exes had dated them at the exact same time

- They spend hours going off about different lovers they’ve both had and just spend all night gossiping about different type of species and the different ways the species act in bed

- “Wait MC IF HE KISSES YOU AND THEN KISS ME DOES THAT MEAN YOU AND I HAVE INDIRECTLY KISSED?! EEEEK” Squeals joyfully 

- He then realizes he has an opportunity to flirt so he pushes them down on the bed and hovers inches away from their face

- “All monsters have power, but MC, do you want to be with a real monster who can give you a real taste of power”

- Someone on his team was doing some “guy talk” with a few other guys and Beel heard them bring up MC’s name

- He tuned in, ready to stand up for them if they were going to shit talk his favorite human

- “I mean all three years of being together was rocky, fuckin’ was the only thing that really kept us going-” Beel is too shocked to keep tuned in

- MC had been with a monster for that long before their time in the Devildom?

- At home he sees MC in the kitchen and blushes at the thought of him and MC being together like they had been with that other demon- except he would treat them better and make them feel loved

- “MC, I overheard some guys in the locker room talking about how you had dated one of them for a while in the past” He’s very straightforward and casual about questioning MC

- “I’ve been with quite a few people that go to RAD,  humans are just too boring y’know?” MC giggles at the flustered ginger as he dug through the fridge, determined to fill his endless abyss of a stomach

- They just hang out in the kitchen for a while, casually talking about MC’s past with monsters and Beelzebub doesn’t judge them at all, but he knows some monsters can be cruel and feels a bit worried MC has been hurt

- I feel like in that moment of realization that MC isn’t afraid of him and his species he’d probably confess his feelings for the human

- He was sleeping on MC’s lap while they talked to Asmo in the common room

- His sleepy self is able to make out the words “Dated” and “monster” so he tuned in discreetly

- He hears MC list all of the species they’d been with in the past and can’t help but blush at the thought of being with MC but he also is frustrated to know he has so much competition 

- Once Asmo starts to change the subject Belphie decides he’d heard enough and heads up to the attic to nap where MC and Asmo wouldn’t yap his ear off

- Has a dream about being with MC, them loving him for himself; even the parts that were meant to scare humans away

- He wakes up to soft fingertips brushing his hair around 

- “My lap got cold without you there,” MC frowns at the sleepy demon in front of them

- Belphie pulls them down to cuddle with him and asks them a question

- “How powerful were they all?”

-”Who? Oh! You heard about my exes haha... I mean they were definitely powerful but not nearly as powerful as you and your brothers,” MC responds

- He tilts their chin up and places a soft kiss on their lips, “Good, cuz I don’t want them to even think about trying to get you back. If I’m more powerful than them then they won’t even think about causing trouble.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! satan #om! asmodeus #om! beelzebub #om! belphegor #om! swd #om! headcanons #obey me headcanons #obey me headcannon #obey me headcannons #obey me hc #obey me hcs #obey me fluff hc #obey me angst hc #obey me smut #obey me smut hcs

[vennilavee]

15 w/ gojo ?

corporate/rich dude au!! 1 reblog and ill make this a longer oneshot...

tw: gojo is an ass i guess you could say a little manipulative, mentions of alcohol, mentions of tits

15. messy kisses, destroying furniture trying to reach the bed

send kiss prompts for jjk

Corporate events like this are your favorite because your company goes all in for the end of year holiday party. You plan to take full advantage of the fully stocked bar with top shelf alcohol along with the appetizers and entrees of food that you’ll likely never find again. After all, you are in the presence of the company’s executives, and in comparison, you are a nobody. In fact, you’re certain nobody here knows you, for which you are slightly bitter about.

Mostly because the only reason anyone would know you is because of Gojo Satoru. Everything about him irritates you- from his ridiculously blue eyes (who’s eyes are that blue, seriously), to his stupidly handsome face, to the way all he does is tease you and get a rise out of you. Not to mention that he’s a trust fund baby, a spoiled little rich kid who has never been told ‘no’ once in his life. Except by you, apparently.

He’d been on the hiring panel during your interview and the way you had politely but firmly shut him down when he tried to rattle you had absolutely intrigued him.

Which had inevitably put a target on your back because Gojo could nearly always be found within six feet of you. It was a plus to him that you were also close friends with Geto. You always seemed to have a sixth sense for him, immediately sending Gojo an irritated look whenever he shot one of his charming smirks your way.

It’s always just empty smirks with him. All smoke and mirrors, quick quips, bickering… Nothing of substance. He only wants your company because you’ve resisted his charms for this long. He just wants to break you down for his own ego.

Or so you tell yourself.

But still, as you sip on your cocktail and watch from the back of the hall, you dare to think about the small moments of dare you say, friendship between you both. The moments of vulnerability that both of you ignore otherwise. The time Gojo had been so angry at his father, the president of the company, for reasons he never really shared with you. The time you both had taken a drunk Geto back to his apartment together. Or when he had conveniently ran into you after a date with a coworker stood you up and he kept you company instead. Despite your seeming dislike for him, you’ve always felt safe in his company.

That night, you realized he could be fun. That night, you nearly kissed him before you realized who you were and who he was.

You shut it down before it could start. So why were you subconsciously watching him across the room? You watch him throw his head back in laughter with Shoko and one of the other higher-ups, surely insulting him in the process.

Gojo can get away with whatever he wants. Not just because of his father, but because of him and everything he brings to those around his orbit. He’s the sun, and you’ll always just be stuck in his orbit like this. Gojo could burn the entire world down and have entire textbooks written to him,, and you would just be a footnote in his story.

You turn away, something sour settling in your stomach.

“You’re avoiding me,” Gojo says it like a statement, rather than a question.

“Bold of you to assume that,” you mutter airily, “I’m tired, it’s been a long few days.”

“You’ve never been one to turn down free food and alcohol,” he says with a bright and bold smirk painted on his face.

It’s not real, but is it ever?

“Yeah, I know right,” you shrug, giving him a matching smirk. You’re suddenly upset all of a sudden, upset by your transient contribution and presence. “Think I might head back to my hotel room. I have a…headache.”

“Oh? Turning in early?” something catches in his voice, but you’re already turning your back on him before you can assess what it is.

You don’t reply, but of course, he follows you.

“Why are you following me?” you cross your arms over your chest. You roll your eyes when Gojo’s eyes not so subtly flit to your chest for longer than two seconds. “Hey, I’m talking to you, stop looking at my tits-”

“Can’t help it when my girls look so good in this dress, you know?”

“Your girls?”

Before you can yell at him and possibly shove the heel of your shoe up his ass, he cuts you off. “Would you argue that you are anyone else’s other than mine?”

Gojo looks at you over his stupid sunglasses with heated eyes. Of all people to be in an elevator going up fifteen floors with, it had to be him. There is no buffer between you both, except for your own denial.

You look away and scoff, unable to hide a shiver. He doesn’t even offer you his blazer, the jackass.

“Come here, sweetheart.”

It’s as if he knows that the elevator doors are about to open for a stream of people to fill the tiny space. Gojo pulls you close to him, a hand secure around your waist- he’s close enough that you can hear his soft puffs of breath against your hair and your cheek. The warm, spicy scent of his cologne wraps around you, very nearly allowing you to forget how crowded the elevator is. He mindlessly massages your waist with one thumb, recalling how you offhandedly mentioned that you hate crowded spaces.

Your anxiety spikes as the elevator moves but he just holds you closer.

“What are you so afraid of?” Gojo asks. He knows how you react to him, teetering on hate and love. Your hesitation is unfamiliar to him, but because it’s you, it’s familiar.

“Go to sleep, Gojo,” you murmur, brows furrowing together, “You don’t want this.”

“Oh? Now you’re making assumptions about what I want?” his voice is calm and yet you can hear the irritation in his voice, how he hides it with a smile.

“Yeah, I am actually,” you glare at him, “You only think you want me because you haven’t had me and your ego is absolutely insufferable-”

“I think I want you? No, I know I want you and I know you do, too-”

“Now who’s making assumptions?” you laugh bitterly, “You only want me for the moment and then you’ll leave. Or I’ll get fired. Or both.”

“Who told you that?”

“Nobody needs to tell me that,” you sneer, “I am a nobody, inconsequential. I know how this goes, Satoru.”

You’re both on opposite sides of your hotel room, tension palpating between you both as you stare at him with wide eyes at the admission of slight vulnerability to him. Despite your words, all you can think about is him wanting to prove you wrong. Wanting to show you that he liked you, wanted you enough to keep you.

Gojo closes the gap between you both with two strides. He doesn’t touch you, despite the urge that washes over him.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, his voice low, “Tell me how this goes.”

“I-it goes with you…” you falter, gripping his blazer loosely to pull him closer. Your eyes are swimming, filled with curiosity and that’s what he’s always liked about you. “It goes with you taking my heart and leaving me behind.”

“Now why,” Gojo replies, cradling your face with one hand as your eyes turn glossy, “Why would I leave you behind when your place with me is by my side?”

Gojo presses his weight into you and pushes you against the wall with a loud thud. You barely have any time to register the shattering of the painting on the wall as he crashes his lips to yours, swallowing your soft gasp of surprise. He holds you close, hands all over your hips, cradling your neck as he somehow breathes life and devotion into you. You tug at the lapel of his blazer to get it off, fingers instantly caressing his chest over his dress shirt.

With a soft hum of his name into his mouth, he lifts you by your thighs to seat you on top of the desk in the hotel room. He’s so warm, warmth seeping through every fiber of his clothing, but it’s not overwhelming. It’s comforting, and the familiar feeling of safety washes over you. Gojo pushes everything to the side, paying no mind to the coffee machine and the tiny k-cups that fall to the floor haphazardly. It’s a problem for later.

He’s too busy chasing the way you taste on his tongue and painting your lips with his to care about a broken coffee machine.

tags: @kentobean @aeanya

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru

[ayamturd]

trapped│bench trio hc

warnings: mentions of imprisonment, exhaustion, ranboo lore, angst

prompt: (requested) “can i request a platonic!bench trio x teen!reader (individually) where they find out you got trapped in the prison with dream?”

pairings: in-game platonic! tubbo, tommyinnit, ranboo

a/n: i tried to experiment with writing more dialogue for this hc, pls feel free to always give feedback!

wc: (1.6k) - m.list

tubbo - 

“No.”

“Tubbo, I’m so sorry but i-”

“You’re wrong,” Tubbo cuts Sam off, shaking his head widely in refusal to the news. He slowly backs away as Sam tries to approach him. “They’re not- no. They can’t be, Sam, there must be some mistake.”

Sam is at a loss, his concern for the boy present, and attempts to raise his hands cautiously out with soft eyes; Tubbo is in panic, and he needs him to calm down.

“Tubbo…”

“I just saw them yesterday, surely-”

“Tubbo, please.”

Tubbo would refuse to accept that fact for what it was

can’t stand to look at the prison, the sight of it haunting him

will ignore the topic altogether and try to change the conversation if someone mentioned you

if they were persistent and didn’t pick up on the fact that he didn’t want to think about it, he’d snap

people always assume that Tubbo is a happy, emotionally driven person; while they’re not completely wrong, he’s extremely closed off to his trauma and knows how to put up a convincing front

that being said, the idea of you trapped with someone who is at the core of his past pain is unsettling to him

he’s trying but failing to pretend like everything’s okay, because everything’s not okay and he feels helpless to the idea that he might be at fault for it all again

make no mistake, he does care for you, but the fact that he cares so much makes it where he doesn’t want to believe something so awful can be true

Ranboo will quickly pick up on what he’s trying to do, and will go along with it for his sake; everyone deals with their trauma and hard news differently, Tubbo especially

Tommy, however, is too upset to notice and reacts impulsively to Tubbo’s reaction

they both clash: Tubbo refusing to address what happen, and Tommy emotionally sensitive when believing Tubbo doesn’t care

his anxieties would build up until one day he just falls apart

“Tubbo?”

They had been walking and collecting more material for their most recent build when Tubbo stopped, Ranboo pausing once realizing he had fallen behind. 

“Tubbo, what’s wrong?” Following his line of sight, Ranboo sighed once seeing your house; despite looking untouched in the time you’ve been gone, something just felt off when knowing you weren’t there. Ranboo patted his shoulder gently before tugging him away.

“Let’s go, man. They’re probably out right now.” There was a beat of silence, and Tubbo eventually responded in a weak voice. 

“No.” Ranboo picked up on the hostility in his tone and spoke with caution to his obvious upset.

“...Tubbo?”

“They’re gone,” Tubbo croaked, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes as he bit his lip roughly. Ranboo tried to console him, but it didn’t help stop the pain. “They’re trapped and I- I just can’t…”

Ranboo was at a loss for words, for Tubbo couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

he misses you, and doesn’t want to accept that there’s a reason he should miss you

tommy - 

“You’re lying.” Ranboo glanced down, his fingers fidgeting together harshly as he struggled to come to terms with the news himself.

“I’m not,” he mumbled, his voice weak in comparison to Tommy’s usual blunt tone. “I’m sorry but it’s the truth.”

Tommy’s breathing hitched from Ranboo’s words, the truth quite evident in his wavering tone and the fact that this was no joking manner. 

Eyes wide, Tommy was frozen to the truth and fear that slowly washed over him, life practically spitting in his face for how cruel the world could truly be to those young on the smp. 

“I know this is really hard to process but we have to be hopeful that everything will turn out okay-” With a shove to Ranboo’s outreached hand, Tommy turned and bolted away, his emotions running high and the situation too painful to admit. There was no ‘okay’ in this reality, you were stuck with Dream and they couldn’t do anything about it. 

Tommy was angry to say the least

he channeled his fear into his drive, but knowing you were trapped with the manic that broke him down and manipulated him for weeks on end completely offset his focus

he didn’t want sympathy, he wanted to get you out of the damn prison

while he’s usually caring to how others may feel and adjust his attitude to them, he couldn’t care much besides the amount of anger he manifested

he’d snap at anyone that tried to console him, yell at others that seemed like they showed no real concern over your absence, and most of all, he’d blame those that tried to downplay the situation

Sam was the center of his rage; Tommy couldn’t stand the thought that Sam sat there and possibly did nothing to prevent your current state

Tommy would close himself off and push everyone away; it felt wrong to act like nothing was wrong when you weren’t there

he can’t stand the idea that everyone’s okay when you’re not, and it follows him to the point where he wishes he was in your place instead 

“Tommy.” Puffy’s stern voice startled him, and he flinched with tired eyes from his spot above on the small hill. 

“You shouldn’t torture yourself like this.” 

Tommy clenched his jaw from her words, her concern valid but useless to his main reason standing watch over the prison. With a shake to his head, he tried to wave her off. 

“I’m not,” he mumbled, “I need to be here.” With a sigh, Puffy crouched down next to him and moved his chin towards her, eyebrows furrowed as she took in his tired eyes and the bags that hung beneath them. He was pushing himself too much. 

“But you don’t, Tommy. You shouldn’t be the one to burden yourself like this.” Trembling lips and narrowed eyes, Tommy broke down. Puffy was quick to grab hold of him, trying to steady his distraught state when he lost his footing. 

“Why couldn’t it have been me?” he cried, his eyes squeezed shut as he dug his head deeper into Puffy’s arms. “Why isn’t it me?”

Puffy couldn’t do anything but squeeze the boy tighter. 

Tommy was a force to be reckoned with when things involve his friends, and the fact that he couldn’t help you essentially tore him to bits

ranboo - 

“Are you alright, Ranboo?” 

Ranboo looks ahead, but avoids Sam’s wavering eyes as indelicately as he can. He doesn’t want to show his real emotions to the news; he doesn’t want Sam to feel worse for the situation as is. 

“Y-yeah, yeah, I’ll be alright. Mhm.” Nodding stiffly, Ranboo’s voice pitches higher than what it usually is, but he pretends it doesn’t faze him while rubbing his hands anxiously together. 

His head snaps up when Sam speaks, his ears twitching once recognizing the painful guilt in the creeper hybrid’s voice. 

“I’m sorry, I’m really sorry I let this happen.”

“It’s okay, Sam. I don’t blame you.”

While Ranboo chose not to look directly at Sam, he emphasized his point a final time, his thoughts lost in thought of the real guilty party.

“I don’t blame you at all.”

oh Ranboo

he would be concerned for other’s reactions to the news, first and foremost

he’s the type of person to put people above his own needs, he puts other’s take on the news before his own

will comfort Tubbo to the best of his abilities by distracting him

though Tommy tries to push everyone away, Ranboo will find ways to help, whether that be letting him yell his heart out when he’s upset or putting a blanket over him when he passes out after watching the prison overnight

you were one of the few people that understood his main values and always treated him well; he’s close to you, and would have probably told you about Dream’s internal torment over him

because of this, knowing that you were trapped with Dream made him feel like he had some involvement with it, that he’s at fault somehow

he puts others before him because he feels guilty, like he needs to redeem others for something he possibly did

no one knows of your status, of how you’re doing in there alone with Dream, but he fears the worst and rattles himself down to the bone

when he’s with Tubbo, he’s able to play along and put up a front too: pretend nothing is wrong and not be faulted for it

but when he’s alone, he’s spiraling and has no one there to wake him up

“I let this happen.” Ranboo was pacing, his voice echoing in the dimly light room while his thoughts rang loudly in his head. He could stand still, for he was too anxious and unnerved by the recent events.

“I’m the reason, I’m the reason they’re trapped. I did this.” 

Lifting his hands to his head, Ranboo began to pull at his hair, pushing pressure to the stress he had created upon himself. Before he could demean himself further, however, another voice spoke up. One familiar and one thought gone.

“You’re right Ranboo.”

Pausing, Ranboo froze in horror to Dream’s taunting statement. He pushed his hands against his ears, desperate for the voice to go away.

“No…”

“You did this to them, and they’re stuck with me now.”

“N⍜”

“Can you hear their screams?”

“⌇⏁⍜⌿ ⟟⏁.”

“They’re mine to play with. Because of you.”

“⏚⟒☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⍜⎎ ⋔⟒. ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁, ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁, ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁ ⟟⏁'⌇ ⋔⊬ ⎎⏃⎍⌰⏁-”

people are more important than any goal or belief, and Ranboo stands by this when he vows to end Dream himself

#mcyt x reader #mcyt x you #mcyt headcanons #tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit x you #tommyinnit headcanon #tubbo x reader #tubbo x you #tubbo headcanon #ranboo x reader #ranboo x you #ranboo headcanon #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader

[eunoiaflow3r]

not ur friend

spencer reid x reader

aaron hotchner x reader

part two - part three

a/n: haven’t written for spence in a while lol. hope you guys like it. wow...and i wrote him as an ass. bahahaha what am i going through i’m so sorry.

warning(s): language. angst. not proofread. will be mistakes.

word count: 1.8k

request(ed): no.

summary: y/n overhears something she shouldn’t have. this conversation alters her relationship.

not ur friend by jeremy zucker.

———————-——————&————————————

Hang up, if you ever think of calling me up. Not afraid to say it, darling.

3 days.

It’s been an entire weekend of you ignoring Spencer and his ever intruding phone calls. This wouldn’t have been a big deal except for the fact that this felt like a breakup. Your head and heart was treating this like you were in a relationship and he made it painfully clear that you weren’t.

It was quiet in your apartment. The television was off, the radio was silent, the heater had paused and even the refrigerator wasn’t making the usual silent buzz noise it made. The deafness of it all allowed the conversation you heard friday night play over and over again through your ached head.

Friday 11:37 pm.

“So Reid...” you picked up your phone when it rang and read Spencer’s name across the screen. It wasn’t like him to call so late but you picked up anyway. When it was a muffled Morgan’s voice you heard instead of Spencer’s you realized he hadn’t even meant to call you at all.

“How’s your girlfriend?”

You just knew all eyes were on him. Spencer Reid was very private about his social life. It was rare he even told you about anything he’d been up to. He just wasn’t one for small talk. The fact that you just knew they were talking about you made you press your phone harder into your ear even though you weren’t even sure you should have been listening.

“Oh y/n? Yeah she’s definitely not my girlfriend.”

This stung. There wasn’t even a label or anything that you guys put on it, but usually when Spencer would talk about his romantic relationships he’d get nervous and stuttery and try to change the subject. Spencer’s voice was clear and steady. Zero hints of nervousness and bashfulness. He was serious.

“Really?” This was Emily now, you could recognize her voice. “You guys seem like pretty close friends if you know what I mean.” Her tone was laced with humor but Spencer’s was far from joking.

“No. I wouldn’t call us friends either. She’s just someone I visit. Like y’know...how you would a grandmother.”

A grandmother? He compared you to a grandmother? He said visiting you was like visiting a grandmother?? You could feel the tears in your eyes. You really thought Spencer was a good guy. Why would he say something so rude? Something so hurtful about the person he was sleeping with.

It wasn’t a friends with benefits. You guys had agreed on that, but you weren’t dating either. You had met him at a museum and ever since then you two had behaved as if a couple would. The only difference was that you weren’t public. You weren’t posting pictures, or gushing over how cute you thought your “boyfriend” was to your friends. And you were fine with that. Labels are constricting. You were glad not to have them except when he decided to say he barely knew you at all and compared you to a grandmother.

“Damn.” Morgan sounded impressed. “Does she know that?”

“Maybe.” Spencer paused. “There’s nothing really romantic about our relationship. To be honest, she can be a bit needy at times and it’s suffocating.”

He paused again.

“I’m actually thinking of breaking things off. She wants more and I just don’t like her that way.”

Sorry, I'm not sorry if it hurts. I don’t mean to make it worse.

This is where you hung up. Your tears never stopped flowing. How dare he? How dare he say you were needy and suffocating? You rarely asked him for anything, and didn’t bother him with things at all. You knew he was a busy person. A busy and hardworking person. You never tried to ask him for more than he was willing to give. Ever. It hurt your heart to think he was playing you the whole time.

It hurt to think that all the “I adore you’s” and “I think I’m in love with you’s” were all fake. You were pretty sure with the way things were headed that you and Spencer would have much more than just a relationship. Much more than sex and cuddles. But a meaning - an understanding.

Spencer was your comfort. Your safe place. The person you’d go to if you were hurting, or in trouble. You were his. Countless times he came to your house and cried to you about the stress from his job. He’d hold you and tell you all about his day and what more he wished he could have done.

You’d buy him his favorite food and he’d cuddle you to sleep only to wake you up in the morning with kisses and great morning sex. To hear all of that meant basically nothing to him tore your heart to pieces.

It made you want to throw up. Had you wasted your time? Had he felt this way the entire time and you just never noticed because you hoped he felt the same? Were there signs that you missed? Something you could have done to prevent yourself from falling this hard for someone who didn’t care?

But you thought he cared.

Spencer was the most caring, empathetic person you’d ever met in your life. He was so understanding in a way no one could ever get.

I've decided that I'm not your fucking friend.

This is why you thought that maybe this is why he tried to hide you. Maybe he just was afraid of his friends not liking you, or afraid of someone from where he worked would try to hurt you. You prayed this was the case. You hoped and cried that this was the reason he’d ever let those words leave his mouth.

The reason you couldn’t believe this though is something understandable.

He had never, ever, called you anything other than his friend, and never wanted to go out.

He told you it was because he was protecting you, but he never wanted to even meet your friends. And when you talked about a guy or introduced him to one, he’d get upset and say something like, “Yeah well he seems perfect for you anyway. Not like we’re a thing - do what you want.”

And your brain tried to rationalize this as protection. The more you thought about it the more the other part of your brain screamed manipulation. You tried to ignore it but is that what was happening? Had he been manipulating you the entire time and you just never knew it?

If he was protecting you he wouldn’t call you needy. He wouldn’t not even bother to look at your friends. He wouldn’t feel the need to hide you from the entire world and lie about it in such a - douchebag way.

This hurt you though. His team can call out a liar faster than anyone and they would have said something if they thought he was lying. They would have defended you. The wouldn’t have egged him away and joked about you like you were some embarrassing one night stand.

You expected respect and decency and got dishonesty and asshole attitudes instead.

After the weekend of pitying yourself you realized you needed to stop. This wasn’t your fault. He has issues of his own. Issues he needs to work out and come to terms with on his own. Why should you feel anything for a man trying to hide you? Lying to you? Lying to his friends ABOUT you. Reassuring yourself helped but didn’t help the ache in your heart.

Were you ready for this? Were you ready to throw it all away? After all it could just be a misunderstanding. A misinterpretation. It could be your fault. Maybe you were clingy.

No.

No. Absolutely not. You weren’t going to try to defend his actions.

Right now, there's not much that we agree on. Sit down, if you need someone to lean on.

You called him.

“Hello?” he answered right away. “Where have you been are you okay? I was gonna come over and check.”

“Don’t come over.” You cleared your throat and blinked away tears.

“Then please come to mine. I have to talk to you, I missed you.”

He still has no idea. He doesn’t have a clue what you overheard on the phone. All the pieces of the puzzle you put together. All that you’ve realized in the past 3 days.

You rolled your eyes. Any other day you’d think his obliviousness was adorable but right now it only made you want to punch him in his stomach for lying to you and wasting your time.

“I’ll be over to give you your things.”

And you hung up.

That was so hard for you to do and you had hot wet tears running down your face to prove it. No matter how many times you tried to brush them away they just kept on going down.

Fuck him.

A shower and a change of clothes later you were finally ready to see him.

Honest, if I'm coming to your place, it's to say it to your face...

In your car you tried to talk yourself out of it. You told yourself to just forget the phone call over happened and just go back to the way things were. At least you here happy then...at least...sort of. You were okay. You were happy with him. The time you spent with him was enjoyable but you were tired of being his therapist. You were tired of being his dirty mistress. You didn’t want to be lied to or lied about. You were over it.

When you got there he rushed you in the house and looked down at you confusingly.

You had never been inside his place. The only time you were ever really here was when you were inside waiting in the car so that he could change his shirt.

“I thought you were coming tomorrow?”

“I came now to give you your things.”

“JJ will be here soon, you should probably leave. Why did you bring this stuff?”

“They’re yours. They shouldn’t be at my place.”

He looked confused but took the box from your hands anyway.

“I’m leaving.” You simply said and turned towards the door. The sooner you were out the better.

“Can I at least have a kiss?” Spencer asked in the cute voice he knew you liked.

You closed your eyes. “Sorry Reid, but no. I don’t want to seem needy or suffocating, ya’know? Makes it easier to break things off.”

Color drained from his face as he realized what you were talking about. He couldn’t even come up with an excuse other than a - “No, baby I -“

You put your palm in the air facing him telling him to stop.

“It’s okay. I was just someone you visited...like a grandmother. You shouldn’t miss me too much. We’re not even friends, right?”

You walked out of the house.

You walked out on him. Your heart was beating out of your chest. He was always the one to leave. He was always the one to say goodbye.

I've decided that I'm not your fucking friend.

—————————————-#————————————

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