#nobody is dwelling on the things he doesn't want them to see

[neversetyoufree]

Looking back through the first couple volumes of VnC, it's wild how much of what Vanitas does in early chapters is nothing but a series of transparent attempts to put himself in control when he feels uncomfortable. You don't notice the first time you read it, or at least I didn't, but he's really quite obvious once you have the knowledge of what subjects he's sensitive about.

I've touched on this before, but I think Vanitas's biggest defense mechanism is theater, specifically playing up his own power/unpredictability in order to make everyone around him uncomfortable. "Vanitas" is a character that he plays, and he weaponizes that character against others when the man behind the act feels threatened.

(Now that we're under the readmore, here's your warning for a VnC-standard amount of discussion of sexual assault).

Even starting in his very first scene in chapter 1, when we've yet to see Vanitas get anywhere close to vulnerable or upset, we get a hint of how he operates. His first attempt to get Noé away from Amelia isn't to physically fight him—it's to play sinister and deliver a vague threat.

He could have gone straight for the knives, or he could have told Noé the truth that Amelia herself was dangerous and urged him to get away. But that's not the person Vanitas is. He doesn't talk things out with honesty, and he doesn't resort straight to violence unless he's really over the edge. He threatens and plays up his dangerous persona to get what he wants.

He even uses the very same line with the security guards later in the chapter, playing sinister again to escape arrest because he might be screwed otherwise.

He's pretty much never authentic pre-catacombs, but moments like this where he dials up the act to achieve something show how in control he is of his own inauthenticity. And he never takes advantage of that control more than when he feels threatened, be that threat physical (like the security guards) or emotional.

When Noé asks him about how he inherited the book of Vanitas in chapter 2, something we now know is a sensitive secret, Vanitas immediately changes the subject. He gets in Noé's space, acting borderline flirtatious (and he often does get flirty as part of his persona), then returns to the topic of Noé being his shield (which is an act in itself, given how he really reacts to being protected).

It takes one poke to the chest and a couple of sentences to switch the conversation from "Noé insists on knowing Vanitas's sensitive past" to "Noé has to deal with the mysterious, overbearing Vanitas's whims," which is just how Vanitas wants it. Playing up his demanding, in your face side buries the threat of an uncomfortable topic.

Then, when Dominique suggests that he worships the blue moon during the bal masqué, we get a much more extreme incarnation of this same behavior. Domi's words threaten to undermine a huge part of the narrative he's built for himself as Vanitas, and they do so by dredging up a truth that he wants desperately to keep buried. He might not worship the blue moon, but he really did love Luna, and being reminded of that throws a big wrench in the narrative of his revenge against them.

He cannot handle having his narrative undermined at this point, and especially not by a reminder of Luna, who is arguably the most sensitive part of his whole tragic backstory. So he freaks out, and freaking out for Vanitas means throwing himself into his false persona as hard as he possibly can. He grows sinister, speaking darkly before breaking into maniacal laughter that startles Dominique and her attendants. Then he hurls his constructed narrative into public view, revealing himself and ensuring that every vampire knows his claim of "wanting revenge."

Nobody's going to forget the human that leapt onto a chandelier in the middle of a ball, revealed himself to be the kin of the blue moon, then swore his vengeance against that very kin, and that means nobody else is going to misunderstand him like Domi and dredge up the truth: that he never really hated Luna.

Going manic and theatrical like this is a defense mechanism, and it's one that ensures not only that Domi stops hassling him, but that, hopefully, he'll never even have to consider worshiping the blue moon ever again. It's a total rejection of an idea that made him uncomfortable, achieved through theater. It also takes a situation that was quite out of his control, his being chained up by Domi, and turns it into a scenario that he engineered, where he is in absolute control of the crowd for at least a few moments.

The best example of all this though, the time when Vanitas combines every form of weaponized persona I've talked about into one awful act, is the scene in which he forces a kiss on Jeanne.

As I mentioned before, Vanitas often plays up his flirtatiousness as part of his persona. He does it with Jeanne quite often, and he does a (usually) subtler version of it with Noé a few times as well. It's a great way to change the subject and make throw people off their game without resorting to threats, and his treatment of Jeanne in chapter 4 is an extreme, but not too surprising incarnation of this same flirty habit.

He might be attracted to Jeanne, but attraction alone is not a reason to force a kiss on an unwilling stranger while ending a fight. Vanitas kissing her was, as much as any other moment I've referenced here, an instinct to protect himself and gain control of a situation that otherwise threatened him.

Winning the fight or not, Vanitas is in a tenuous position in terms of control when dealing with Jeanne. Jeanne is an incredibly strong opponent, and she managed to withstand both a bite from a curse-bearer and a direct stunning hit from the Book. Vanitas has played all of his cards, and his only insurance that she won't murder him immediately is Noé, a man he barely knows, successfully keeping Luca hostage without realizing that's what he's doing. These are not great odds. He's also extremely attracted to Jeanne, and though his initial attraction to her isn't nearly as distressing as his full-on infatuation in mal d'amour, being weak to the sight of her represents yet another loss of control.

Then Jeanne tries to sacrifice herself. She tells Vanitas he can do anything to her he pleases, so long she can protect the child she's devoted herself to watching over, and there is no way on Earth that this moment isn't a trigger for Vanitas, because he once did the exact same thing. He's already in an unsteady situation, and then she reminds him of Misha and his own darkest moments, which means that conversation has to end immediately.

"Please don't hurt him," is the last thing Jeanne says before Vanitas flips suddenly from threats to advances, and his face when he gets close to her is manic.

So when Vanitas gets uncomfortable, what does he do? He changes the subject wildly, suddenly making the whole situation about him and his fickle, unpredictable moods and unreasonable demands. He cranks up the character of the wild, demanding, show-stealing Vanitas to eleven. He kisses Jeanne. And even though it's a cliche line, the fact remains that sexual assault is never really about the sex. It's about power and control. Vanitas does wild things and plays up his persona as a clutch for control when he's uncomfortable, and this is that to an extreme degree. This kiss gives him the power in their interaction.

Plus, the specific bad memories that Jeanne unintentionally triggers for Vanitas are all about bodily autonomy. His own "do what you want to me, just don't hurt the kid" moment was protecting Misha in Moreau's lab, which led to physical violation after violation. It was a complete loss of his agency and autonomy. And his memory of Misha is also deeply tied to whatever happened with Luna's death, and given the possibility of his being made their kin without consent, that memory may also be one of the loss of autonomy.

This scene is Vanitas not just getting triggered, but being reminded of his loss of control and ownership of his body. It makes a twisted kind of sense that the resultant clutch for power and control comes via him forcing his body onto somebody else. He manufactures a situation that is all about bodily autonomy, but he has all of it and the source of danger has none. And he does it all while stealing the show and rerouting the topic as he always does.

Just like so many other actions he takes early in the series, his most reprehensible moment is just another desperate grasp at control. He has to be threatening and showy and unreasonable. He has to be the kind of man that announces himself as savior to a room full of powerful enemies. The kind of man can force himself on a powerful woman like Jeanne. Because if he doesn't drive home the act well enough, somebody might gain access to the horribly vulnerable person underneath.

#vanitas is what happens when the most traumatized man in the world weaponizes being a theater kid as his main defense mechanism #the man was literally raised in a troupe of actors #and if everyone is busy focusing on how unpleasant he is #nobody is dwelling on the things he doesn't want them to see #and he can pretend those vulnerable parts don't exist #vnc #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas my beloved #vnc vanitas #english major hours #ID in alt text

[azulpitlane]

just pr part two I ln4

pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader summary: you are beginning to warm up to lando but it all comes crashing down when you overhear something you weren't suppose to, includes writing + smau notes: im back! hope you guys had a good holiday!! p.s if you sent requests i am working on them!! this one is pretty long but i tried to fit it all into one part warnings: a tiny tiny bit of smut, but barely anything part one, masterlist

"So when were you planning on tell me?" Your brother asked accusingly the moment you opened the door of your apartment. A few hours prior, you had called Lando and demanded for him to come over knowing Daniel was going to arrive soon and interrogate you and you refused to deal with this on your own. It was his idea in the first place.

"Um, lovely seeing you too Danny. Need help with your bags?"

"Don't give me the sarcasm right now y/n." You could tell he was genuinely agitated with your response and you sighed and opened the door to let him in. He quickly walked to your kitchen and saw Lando sitting there with a sheepish smile.

"Hey Daniel...how are you?" He immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say since he started stalking his way towards Lando.

"You motherf-"

"OKAY OKAY! Calm down Danny, just sit down and we'll talk." You fortunately were quick enough to stop him from getting to Lando. You gave him a stern look and though you were younger, Danny knew to listen to you when you gave him that look. He reluctantly sat in front of Lando while you sat yourself next to him.

"It's not what you think."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and concern on his face. "Oh, really? Because the pictures and the headlines seem to tell a different story."

Lando, always quick with a comeback, attempted to diffuse the tension. "Well, mate, you know how the media exaggerates everything."

Daniel's gaze shifted between the two of you, and he let out a sigh. "You're dating, aren't you?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the admission. "It's complicated, Danny. We didn't plan for it to happen."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Complicated is an understatement. You're my sister, Y/n. And you," he pointed at Lando, "you're...Lando."

"I'm going to try and not be offended by that."

"You know what I mean. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me before."

"Well we're only two months into our relationship so we wanted to figure things out privately and decide if we were ready to fully commit to each other before telling people." You reciprocated the explanation that you and Lando made up an hour prior.

"And are you fully ready to commit to each other?"

You nudged Lando's thigh since Daniel was staring directly at him, expecting an answer from him.

"Yup. 100%."

Danny responded with a skeptical look, "That doesn't sound too convincing."

You gave Lando a harsher nudge, he was doing an awful job at making this convincing.

"Look, I know I haven't been perfect, but y/n she just...brings out a side of me that nobody else does. I know I should've spoke to you before making a move and I regret not doing so, but I don't regret y/n. And I don't regret that night when we first bumped into each other outside of the paddock," realizing his mistake he quickly added, "where we first admitted our feelings."

You glanced at Lando confused at the pause in his speech, but he avoided eye contact and kept his gaze at Daniel. You weren't sure if he was referring to the night you guys hooked up or if he was just trying to make the relationship believable. You then looked at your brother noticing his expression was softening, a part of you felt guilty for lying to him about this relationship so you quickly added an apology.

"We really are sorry you had to find out through social media, I wish we told you before those pictures were released, but there's no point in dwelling in it now. This relationship wasn't intentional, it just happened and we're serious about it." You said trying to talk as softly as possible to make it believable.

"I can't say i'm thrilled about this, but I forgive you guys. I was just angry at the moment because everybody was saying all these crazy things about my baby sister, and I was mad Lando was the reason behind it. But you guys are grown adults and can make your own decisions so whatever you think is best for your happiness, I will support it."

"Oh thank God." Lando grabbed your head and kissed it, you knew he was doing it to irritate you and you wanted nothing more than to smack him hand away but you just smiled and accepted his affection.

Daniel on the other hand, openly showed his disgust and quickly added, "Okay, don't push it."

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 290,335 others

yourusername im just a girl (with a himbo bf and overprotective brother)

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user THE HAND PLACEMENT OH LORD

user just fell on my knees

user himbo bf is so real

user OKAY SO DANNY OFFICIALLY KNOWS

user it looks like he approves aww

landonorris himbo?

yourusername the jokes write themselves landonorris i dont get it? what is a himbo? user he fr is a himbo im crying user yourusername baby are you sure about this one?

user everybody say thank you y/n because we're gonna get so much lando and daniel content now

yourbff oh! hahaha...

user what does she know🤨 user shes seen the photos of him with other girls i fear...

danielricciardo landonorris hand placement is a bit inappropriate no?

landonorris sorry mate... user she wasn't lying with the overprotective part😭 user daniel is in cockblocker mode

As soon as Danny left, you both quickly left each others embrace and went back to your usual snarky banter. He was quick to leave your apartment but before he could, you stopped him wanting to clear some things up.

"Okay so for this to work, we need a set of rules," Lando rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, "uh, no interruptions please, you can speak when I'm done." You could see him roll his eyes again, but kept his mouth shut nonetheless.

"Rule number one, no kissing in the lips, even in front of the cameras."

"That is so stupid, we alre-"

"What did I say? No speaking until I am done!"

"Bossy. I like this side of you." He smirked at you suggestively and you ignored that comment all together, not wanting to give the satisfaction of a reaction from you.

"Rule number two, no posting each other without permission. We must both approve of the post." He lazily nodded, not really caring about these rules.

"Rule number three, we cannot tell anybody, besides your team of course, that this is fake. I mean nobody, not even your close friends, we can't risk Danny finding out."

"Anything else, princess?"

"Chill with the affection, you were practically hogging me when we were with Daniel."

"You weren't complaining last week when you were under me."

You blushed and quickly used your hair to cover it. You guys hadn't talked about that night and you were trying your best to avoid the topic. It was a drunk mistake, that's it. It's not like either of you would do it again. Even if it was the best sex of your life, you would never admit that out loud.

"Shut up, that was a drunk, stupid mistake," His smirk fell and was replaced with an emotionless look, "rule number four, no talking about that night, got it?"

"Yeah, whatever, can I go now?"

f1gossip

20,492 likes

f1gossip Lando and Y/n in Paris today! The two just landed and are there with a few of Lando's friends. They confirmed their relationship a few weeks ago on instagram posts and sources say they've been together for a few months prior to the posts. Thoughts on the new couple?

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user its funny to think that he might be daniel's brother in law in the future lmfao

user idk about them... lando was just seen with other girls before their posts

user probably just friends chill user yeah fr, lando always says those other girls are just his friends

user honestly im happy he's finally settling for a nice girl, no more drama

user it couple

user omg they both love photography...imagine all the pictures they take of one another

user omg. i need to see y/n's camera roll🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

user the all black fit >>>>>

user the girlfriend effect is starting already

user IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM (IM OBSESSED WITH THEM)

As you and Lando began the charade of a fake relationship, you couldn't shake off the feeling that this was going to be more complicated than you initially thought. The staged photos, the forced smiles, and the scripted interactions started to wear on you. But for the sake of your relationship with your brother, you pushed through. This is the first time you and Lando left Monaco together and he had dragged you to Paris for a few events he had. You were there with his friends so you had to keep up with your act practically all the time until you went to sleep.

"Wait, we're sharing a room?"

Lando raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, it's more convincing that way. We're a couple, remember?"

You sighed, realizing the extent of the relationship. "Fine, but no funny business. We stick to the rules."

He smirked, "You're no fun, princess."

You shot him a warning look, "I'm serious, Lando. This is for my brother's sake, not for our amusement."

He chuckled, "Alright, alright. No funny business. I promise."

You begrudgingly entered the room and noticed there was only one bed. You turned to him with a blank look on your face and he gave you an innocent smile, knowing you were pissed.

"Really, Lando? One bed?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Oops, must be a mistake. But it's not like we haven't shared a bed before, right?"

You shot him a glare. "Rule number four."

"What?"

"Rule number four: no talking of the night that got us into this mess in the first place."

"Jesus, you weren't being serious about those rules?"

"Dead serious." You moved around him and got your pajamas from your suitcase to change in the bathroom.

"If I knew you were going to be this boring I would've fake dated someone else." He mumbled in response.

"I heard that!" You yelled from the bathroom.

"Yeah well you were meant to!" He sassily replied.

You came out of the bathroom bare faced and wearing a skimpy set consisting of a tight tank top and tiny shorts. If you knew you would be sharing a room with Lando you would've never packed this, but it was the only thing you had on you right now. You noticed Lando looking at you and you were expecting some sort of remark on your outfit but it never came. He just watched you with a look you could not name, you couldn't help but feel a little self conscious under his hard gaze. You opened your mouth to question him but you were interrupted by three knocks on the door. You quickly went to open it, wanting to get away from the sudden tension in the room.

"Hello! Room service here, may I step in?"

"Oh sure." You didn't even realize Lando had ordered anything while you were in the bathroom.

The man walked in and at that moment he seemed to notice your outfit for the first time and subtly looked you up and down. You felt uncomfortable but before anything else could be said Lando stepped in front of you and tipped the guy. He blushed knowing he was caught and quickly made his way out.

"Uhh what did you order?" You asked wanting to fill the weird silence in the room.

"Hot chocolate, it's uh for you." You gave him a questioning gaze and you didn't know if you were hallucinating but it looked like he was blushing. "Daniel mentioned something about you guys always sneaking out of bed to drink a cup of chocolate before sleeping when you were younger and you had an insane amount of chocolate when I went over to your apartment so I'm guessing you still do it."

You couldn't help but smile at the memory he mentioned. It was a tradition you and Daniel had when you were kids, sneaking out of bed to share a cup of hot chocolate before sleeping. It was a comforting routine that continued into your teenage years. The fact that Lando remembered and went through the trouble of ordering it made you soften towards him, at least for a moment.

"Wow, you actually remembered that?" You chuckled, feeling a bit nostalgic.

Lando scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I thought it might help make this whole pr thing a bit more bearable. Plus, I know you love it."

You sighed, realizing that maybe there was more to Lando than just the cocky and flirtatious exterior he presented. "Thanks, Lando. That was...unexpectedly sweet."

He shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Well, don't get used to it. It's a one-time thing. Im gonna uh get in the shower now."

You nodded and he left you alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake off the mixed emotions swirling within you. This fake relationship was becoming more complicated by the day, but there were moments, like this one, that blurred the lines between acting and reality. You couldn't deny that there was a connection between you and Lando, even if it was born out of necessity. You sat on the bed and picked up a book to stop your overthinking, it was just a cup of chocolate. No big deal.

Lando came out of the shower and was faced with an empty cup and you knocked out on the bed. He picked up your book and marked the page you left off on before placing it on the bedside table. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the small couch in the room before he drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up before Lando and quickly noticed he was not sleeping in the bed next to you. You felt bad seeing him cramped in the small couch across from the bed and you mentally kicked yourself for falling asleep before you could volunteer to take the couch, he was the one that paid after all. You got up and silently approached him, he looked so peaceful and you thought about how chivalrous his gesture was. You knew there was more to him than his arrogant persona, but you were surprised he was letting you see a part of the real him after all this time.

"I know I'm attractive but watching me sleep is a little creepy don't you think?" He said suddenly while keeping his eyes closed.

There was that arrogance.

"Oh you're awake? There goes my opportunity to strangle you in your sleep."

"Kinky girl."

"Just shut up and get up, we have a lot to do."

landonorris posted a story

You were shocked when none of Lando's friends joined you two today seeing as you were exploring the city. Once he had told you they wanted to do their own thing, you expected for him to go back to his cocky self since there was nobody around, but he constantly kept a hold on your hand, gave you his jacket when you got cold, and even helped with your photography.

You had brought your camera in hopes to capture some good pictures of the city of love and he helped by giving you some ideas. You were confused by his kind behavior since you guys kept a low profile and weren't recognized by anybody as you walked around. You didn't mind this side of Lando though and appreciated this personality before he became a cocky jerk again.

"Did your team tip off any paparazzi anywhere that I should be aware of?" You asked thinking maybe there was someone watching.

"Uh no actually. I asked for a calm day before we go to the event later tonight. That's where all the photographers will be."

"Huh, so you're telling me you organized this whole day yourself?" You asked slowly not understanding why his team would set up a day in Paris with just you two without exposure to it.

Lando grinned mischievously, "Well, I thought we could use a break from the chaos. Plus, Paris is a beautiful city, and it seemed like a waste not to explore it properly."

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical of his sudden change in behavior. "And you're not going to pull some elaborate prank or reveal that this was all a setup?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No pranks, no setups. Just a day to enjoy the city and each other's company. Is that so hard to believe?"

Considering Lando's usual antics, it was indeed hard to believe. However, you decided to go along with it, enjoying the unexpected break from the scripted events and staged moments.

As you continued exploring the streets of Paris, Lando pointed out interesting landmarks, shared anecdotes about his previous visits, and even suggested some hidden gems for your photography. The day unfolded in a surprisingly genuine and enjoyable manner.

At a quaint café, Lando insisted on treating you to a cup of coffee, saying, "Consider it a thank you for putting up with my chaotic world for the past few days."

You couldn't help but smile, finding this side of Lando surprisingly endearing. "You're not so bad when you're not trying to be a pain, you know?"

He winked, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The two of you strolled along the Seine River, taking in the iconic sights of Paris. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, and you couldn't resist capturing the moment with your camera.

As you snapped a few pictures, Lando leaned in and whispered, "You know, you're not so bad either, princess."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a warmth in your chest that you couldn't deny. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this fake relationship than meets the eye.

The day passed in a blur of laughter, shared moments, and a surprising connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing hour. It was a side of Lando you hadn't expected, and you found yourself enjoying his company without the pressure of the public eye.

yourusername

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yourusername j'adore paris

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user mother posted!!!

yourbff you look absolutely incredible..and he's there

yourusername 😭😭 be nice! landonorris im starting to think you dont like me... user LMFAO OMG

user y/n.jpg WHEN????

user lando taking her to the city of love...yeah they're not breaking up anytime soon

landonorris my pretty girl

user 🫠🫠 user oh to be lando's pretty girl, y/n won at life

user remind me how lando pulled her??? shes so gorgeous

user he beat the norizz allegations

danielricciardo there should be a jumpscare warning for the last slide!

user HAHAHAHA landonorris why am i always being attacked in y/ns comments

As Lando mentioned, you were going to make appearance at the PSG game which you actually were excited for since you were a big football fanatic. You both changed and met up with his friends in the lobby before heading out again. The game was going great and you had even met some of the guys' girlfriends and befriended them rather quickly. After being surrounded by men the whole trip, you were glad to have some women around you to socialize with. You then all made plans as a group to go to an after-party to celebrate the teams win.

The party was huge, there were even some PSG players there and you were suddenly glad you chose a nice outfit to go to the game with, not wanting to feel underdressed.

As the night wore on, Lando pulled you aside again, away from the bustling crowd. "Having fun, princess?"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, surprisingly. Your friends are great dancers, by the way."

He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, we're a talented bunch. But you're the best dancer here."

You laughed, not expecting the compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lando."

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I don't know about that. Flattery seems to be working quite well tonight."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush that threatened to surface. "Smooth talker."

"Only to you." He replied and he stepped closer to tug a piece of hair behind your ear. You became aware of his proximity and couldn't help to feel your heart start racing. You instinctively put your hands on his shoulder as he looked down on your lips. You felt yourself leaning in before something caught your eye over his shoulder, a camera. Someone was filming, that's why he was acting like this. You don't know why the idea made you a little sad, so you snapped out of it and turned your head so his lips landed on your cheek. His eyes were filled with confusion, weren't you just leaning in too? Did you not feel the spark that ignited between you two today?

“No kissing. Even on camera, remember?” You said sadly then rejoined the girls as he stood there confused.

You spent the rest of the night separately until the girls decided they were tired. You volunteered to go look for the boys and as soon as you stepped outside through the backdoor you heard Lando’s voice.

“I mean we just started and I’m already regretting it. Its just so hard to be around her, she has all these rules that im technically breaking by telling you,”

Your heart dropped realizing he was talking about you. You stopped listening, not wanting to hear the rest because you knew it would only hurt. You realized how much you were beginning to like Lando thinking you could get through the constant facade he has, but after hearing his words you were starting to think it wasn’t a facade. He was just mean. You began to wonder if all the other snarky and rude remarks he made weren’t sarcasm, but the real way he felt about you.

You went back inside, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, and saw the rest of the girls had reunited with their boyfriends so you assured them they could leave and you were just waiting for Lando. With teary eyes you made your way to the small bar and ordered a water.

As you sat at the bar, nursing your water, you couldn't shake off the mix of emotions swirling within you. The revelations from Lando's words had left you feeling hurt and confused. You had let your guard down, allowed yourself to enjoy the night, and now it seemed like it was all a part of some elaborate act.

“Not having a good time?”

You looked up and were slightly starstruck to see Kylian Mbappe sitting next to you.

“Um no not anymore, unless youre the host of this party! Then im having a blast.”

He laughed at your comment and you blushed in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it's not my party. Why are you alone?"

"I'm just waiting for my friends, they're outside."

"Hm, so why aren't you outside with them...?"

"Y/n." You replied knowing he was subtly asking. "But I just uh needed some water," you said quickly trying to think of an excuse.

"Y/n's a beautiful name, I'm Kylian."

"Oh I know." He raised his eyebrows at your response but before he could say anything else Lando had appeared out of nowhere. He gave you a tight lipped smile and put his arm around your waist after seeing who you were talking to.

"Kylian! It's good to see you mate, sorry to interrupt but we were just heading out." He said as he used his other hand to shake Kylian's.

Kylian reciprocated the handshake with a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with curiosity at the sudden appearance of Lando.

"No problem at all," Kylian replied, glancing between you and Lando. "Nice meeting you, Y/n. Enjoy the rest of the night."

You nodded, a bit flustered by the unexpected attention from both men. "You too, Kylian. Maybe catch you at another party."

As Kylian excused himself, you turned your attention to Lando, who still had his arm around your waist. His grip felt possessive, and you couldn't help but shoot him a questioning look.

"What was that about?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your voice.

Lando's gaze flickered between you and the direction Kylian had walked off. "Just making sure everything's alright. I noticed you talking to him."

"It's not like I was in distress. We were just having a casual conversation." You replied before being dragged away by Lando and seeing his friend, Romeo, trail behind you too. Ahh so that's who he was talking to.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly defensive. "Casual conversation, huh? Seemed more than that."

The ride home was quiet, none of you knowing what to say after your almost kiss and hearing him talk about you. You thought about the situation the whole ride to the hotel and were getting angrier by the second, he was the one that suggested this idea and now he was regretting it? And worst of all, why was he talking to others about this and not you?

"As soon as you got to your room your thoughts were interrupted by Lando's voice, "What if someone had taken pictures? Do you know how bad that would look on your part? Flirting with other men while in a relationship with me."

You rolled your eyes and defended yourself, "I was not flirting with him."

"That's not what it looked like to me." He said with a hard tone.

"Why do you care? We're not really dating."

"Oh I know, you remind me any time you can, but we're doing this for the sake of your reputation too."

"As if you cared about me and maybe I remind you all the time because in reality I would never date an asshole like you." You answered bitterly as you moved around the room trying to get yourself ready for bed.

Lando followed your movements and gave you a hurt yet irritated look, "An asshole, huh? That's what you think of me?"

"Yeah."

"You know, you're no prize either! You only think of yourself that you fail to see the obvious." Responded with clear frustration in his voice.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

Lando's frustration boiled over as he paced around the room. "It means you're so caught up in your own world that you don't see beyond your own nose. You're oblivious to what's happening around you. I'm trying here, more than you can understand."

You scoffed, not buying into his sudden change in tone. "Oh please, spare me the act. You're the one regretting this whole thing, talking about it with your friends, and then acting possessive when I talk to someone else? What game are you playing, Lando?"

He looked at you in confusion, "When did I say I regretted..." Realization hit him as he remembered the events from earlier that day, "you heard me talking to Romeo. No, no you don't understand, it's just... more complicated than I thought."

You crossed your arms, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. "Complicated? Enlighten me."

Lando hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I didn't expect... I didn't expect to care, alright? But spending time with you, even in this ridiculous situation, it's messing with my head. And it's not just about the reputation, it's... something else."

You raised an eyebrow, "Something else? Care to elaborate?" You asked with attitude.

He groaned, having enough with your sassy tone, and before you knew it, your back was getting pushed into the wall as Lando trapped you with his arms on the side of your head. You got flashbacks of the party as you looked up at his face that was only centimeters away from yours.

"You're so frustrating y/n. I told Romeo I regretted this because it's so hard to be around you when all I think about is the night I fucked you." You sucked a breath in, shocked by his bold statement. He brought one of his hand down to your jaw and traced his thumb on your bottom lip. "I have to hold myself back when I'm around you, you have completely fucked with my head, it's so infuriating."

"Then...then why did you agree to this whole fake dating thing?" You asked, almost whispering.

He chuckled and replied, "I didn't have to agree to it. It was my idea." Your eyes filled with confusion, remembering he had told you it was his team's idea, "I suggested it so I could get another chance to get a taste of you. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you haven't thought of that night we had sex." He asked with a gaze full of lust and frustration.

You could feel your walls crumbling down at his seductive tone and close proximity. You shook your head and weakly responded, "I can't."

He smirked at you before taking one of your hands in his own and moving it to his hardened cock.

"This enough elaboration for you?" He asked with a cocky tone. You could feel yourself getting wet and had enough of his teasing. You moved your hands to his face and brought it to your own. The kiss was messy and full of built up frustration and anger, a perfect combination to your relationship.

As the passionate kiss continued, you found yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting the complications and frustrations that had filled the air just moments ago. Lando's lips moved against yours with a mixture of intensity and tenderness, creating a whirlwind of emotions within you.

Eventually, he pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. Your breath was heavy, and the room felt charged with tension. Lando's fingers traced the outline of your jaw, and he spoke in a low, husky voice, "I can't keep pretending, y/n. This is more than just a pr stunt for me."

Conflicting emotions swirled within you. On one hand, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry and connection you shared with Lando. On the other hand, the complications and rules that had governed your fake relationship loomed in the background.

"I don't even know what this is anymore," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Lando leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Maybe it's time we stop pretending and figure it out together. No more rules, no more faking."

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a vulnerability that you hadn't expected. It was as if the arrogant facade he had meticulously maintained was crumbling, revealing the real Lando beneath.

"Can we even do that?" you wondered aloud.

Lando smiled, a genuine and sincere expression that took you by surprise. "I want to try, y/n."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of uncertainty and excitement. "What about the paparazzi, the public, and your career?"

"I don't care about any of that if it means I can be with you," he confessed, his gaze unwavering.

With a tentative smile, you nodded, realizing that maybe that maybe you can trust Lando after all.

As the night continued, you had deja vu to the night that got you and Lando in this position in the first place, except this time he was gentler and made you feel special.

more notes: im not comfortable enough to write smut, sorry🧍‍♀️and as per usual, this is not proofread lol

tags: @gulphulp, @cassiopeiia24

#lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #mclaren #formula one #formula 1

[gffa]

You know why the Jedi are right in this scene? Because it's literally how the Force works, this moment is undivorceable from the very basic worldbuilding fact that: The Force works based on their emotions. That is part of everything to do with the Force in the movies, that is the very first layer of the foundation of how it works! If they use the Force while they're afraid, that is straight up a path to the dark side, that's not just what the Jedi say, it's how Star Wars' worldbuilding functions. “Once you become afraid that somebody’s going to take it away from you or you’re gonna lose it, then you start to become angry, especially if you’re losing it, and that anger leads to hate, and hate leads to suffering. Mostly on the part of the person who’s selfish, because you spend all your time being afraid of losing everything you’ve got instead of actually living. [....] So that is ultimately the core of the whole dark side/light side of the Force.” –George Lucas Fear is the path to the dark side. It doesn't matter if the fear is justified or not, it's not necessarily a moral or value judgement, but it just is how the Force works. So, the scene in The Phantom Menace goes like this: Yoda:  "Afraid are you?" Anakin:  "No, sir." Yoda:  "See through you we can." Mace:  "Be mindful of your feelings." Ki-Adi:  "Your thoughts dwell on your mother." Anakin:  "I miss her." Yoda:  "Afraid to lose her, I think, mmm?" Anakin:  "What has that got to do with anything?" Yoda:  "Everything. Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. I sense much fear in you." The Jedi are repeating Lucas' explanation almost word for word in this scene, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering, this isn't what the Jedi decided was how things work, it's how the Force works as decided by the guy who created the Force, they're absolutely, 100% correct about it. And that's why it's important that Anakin isn't acknowledging his fear here, that it's not that he's afraid that's the problem or what the Jedi are saying is the problem--the Jedi express emotion all across the movies! that whole "there is no emotion" thing is NOWHERE in the movies or TCW! that is something Lucas himself never put in ANY of his canon!--but that he won't even be mindful of his feelings. Being mindful isn't immediately purging them, it's acknowledging that they're there, working through them, eventually letting them go. "But it's normal for a nine year old to miss his mother! How can they say he's bad just for--" They're not saying Anakin is bad. Nobody is saying Anakin is a horrible person for missing his mother! Nobody is even saying that Anakin is a horrible person for not being mindful of his feelings! Nobody is saying that it's Anakin's fault that he doesn't have the tools for better emotional regulation! But they are saying that he's not a good fit for the Jedi. And they're right! He's not a good fit for the Jedi! Not one single Council member even so much as implies that this is any kind of judgement of Anakin as a person or that he's bad for it! They're saying he doesn't have the rock solid foundation that a Jedi needs because that's how the Force works--and they're right. Every commentary Lucas ever makes about Anakin's fall is that he didn't want to regulate his feelings, he didn't want to let go of things.

The Jedi never once say or imply that that would make Anakin a bad person or that he's a failure because he didn't magically have things he wasn't taught, but they're saying that it would make him a bad fit for being a Jedi and they can already feel--given that they're psychic space wizards who can sense others' feelings--that he doesn't really want to change. ("He's nine! You can't judge a character at that--" Girl, it's a fairy tale meant to illustrate Lucas' personal philosophies about emotional regulation via fairy tale logic, not hyperrealistic examinations of characters, come on now.)

Which doesn't make Anakin a bad person or that he's in the wrong for being scared and not having the tools to deal with it. The Jedi can say "He's not a good fit for what we need to be because of the way the Force works." and not have it be any kind of condemnation of him as a person. His later actions, once he has the training and support to know better, sure. But nobody's saying the nine year old is at fault. They're saying the nine year old doesn't have the foundation he would need, which it doesn't matter that it's not his fault, it's still quite literally how the Force works, that you need that foundation.

#lumi.txt #star wars #anakin skywalker #jedi order #meta

[lazywriters-blog]

I just had a thought!!

What if Lyney had a one-night stand with his darling after meeting her on his magic show, It's just mutual attraction, and his darling is pleasing to the eye, who could blame him for getting a little caught up in the moment talking with her and they're making eye contact for so long! Surely, she's attracted to him as he is to her. The next thing he does is kiss her hand, flatter her with compliments, and close the distance between them, he's making the first move and displaying his interest clear as day.

Lynette isn't around, and since he's stopped you from leaving and you've stayed and nobody is around in the opera house, it's just you both. You don't seem revolted and you retort by flirting back, subtly but to him, it's crystal clear. He's a master at picking up the smallest non-verbal signs so his insights are reliable. Caressing her cheek and then holding her chin he's about to test his theory, leaning over to steal a kiss. That leads to something more than an innocent touch of lips, the back rooms are safe from prying eyes and ears, and they could spend the night in hiding.

The next morning, she's gone and so her belongings in her absence are nothing but lingering cold from the night they relished in the dark, he should have known not to dwell on it too much but he couldn't help it when he went on a random search for her after a week, Lynette doesn't know, he hadn't told her anything. Perhaps, she would be better suited to find her or even know something.

Then, came the heartbreak, not because she already had a significant one, no, she seemed to ignore him when he approached her, and maybe she was just a little shy after their night together, he understands, he's kind of nervous as well. So, his solution, pester her till she couldn't dismiss him anymore, It worked however, she was irritated and he was not. Wasn't their night memorable? Didn't it feel like they had known each other forever and how the dark lasted long and each minute felt like hours? He's not desperate, he just wants to know her better.

She's against the idea, for seemingly no reason.

He backs off, only for a little while. He's been wanting to see her in the crowd once more, and this time, they could spend it more peacefully. Unfortunately, for him no matter how much he conceals it to himself, she's no longer interested.

He knows how to rekindle it again. He just needs to be alone with her, gift her a rainbow rose, kiss her cheek, and maybe pull out a ring to see her reaction. All in good fun, he's testing the waters so he can remain afloat. Love is hard to find after all.

If that doesn't work, he could try other methods. There's plenty he could do, hypnosis, nothing has been off the table for him.

When he finally does get the moment to be alone with her, dragging her away from the leaving crowd had been complicated but worth it, She's seated before him and they have the room to themselves and it doesn't matter if she wants to leave because he's locked the door and himself inside the room with her.

He couldn't let misunderstanding or anything that's been going on with them fester like rotting flesh. He needs answers and affection.

Starting with his usual mannerisms and cheery nature he breaks the ice and takes off his hat, observing her inch by inch and letting her know they had to spend some time alone, besides it's healthy for any budding relationship to have time devoted to them.

"Did you like my show? I especially planned the last trick for you, did you grasp the meaning behind it?"

he smiles, and though he doesn't show it, it's his last attempt at recovering their connection from sinking.

"You should drink the tea, it's not poisoned if that's what you are thinking." he chins with a grin.

Leaving her alone was not a desirable outcome, last thing he wanted to hear was her testament to being locked in the room with him, he's not keeping her there without her consent. She wants to stay and talk, with him, it's been so long since they've talked.

Noticing tell-tale signs of aggression was concerning and he's not all that strong if she manages a harsh hit, however, he is evasive. He has some experience while she does not.

"Go on, drink it. It's safe, I promise you."

He is maintaining eye contact with her, getting her to trust him again should not be this hard but she's smart enough to pretend and not drink a sip.

He hates to admit it, he has gotten himself charmed.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yan yan #genshin impact #genshin impact imagine #yandere drabble #genshin impact x reader #yandere lyney #yandere lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #genshin impact lyney #lyney x reader #Might make it into a oneshot if wanted #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin imagines

[radiance1]

I’ve been thinking about this a lot and basically Danny is Beelzebub from Hellva boss with his own casino performs and the entrance defies reality and all his ghost rouges come in and go as they please and some humans and or mortals stumble in and think it’s just some place where metas party their fucking asses off which wouldn’t be that bad if this wasn’t FUCKING GOTHAM. Danny doesn’t know how they got in Gotham but they just want to party but unfortunately for him the bats hear a rumor some meta trafficking ring has been planning a big raid on a certain casino that’s new ish and they have to stop it so they go in disguise and they get to witness Danny and his rouges beat the every loving snot out of some traffickers

maybe Danny is a clone, maybes he’s reincarnated, maybe he lost a bet, maybe he moved to Gotham for fun, maybe he got tossed across the universe into Gotham

who knows certainly not Danny

Hmm.

I have zero clue if I want Danny to look somewhat like Beelzebub or not, but we won't be dwelling on that right now.

How Danny got to Gotham? I got zero blood clue, but he's there and is about to party.

Maybe this could even be set after TUE bad ending, where the explosion wasn't reversed, and he parties to forget the pain and just focus on the good vibes. Maybe stops using his human form, using his ghost form more and it subtly changing without him noticing into a different form or something due to his habits.

Maybe that some of his ghost form's new features leak over to his human form.

Anyways.

Maybe the casino isn't even in Gotham, like physically. Instead, it's the doors leading into the casino that're in Gotham City, and stepping through him just yoinks them into Danny's Dimension and into his casino.

So, Danny's casino is located smack dab in his own dimension, but somehow the doors pop up in Gotham for whatever reason and a few residents stumble through and see Danny and his rogues (who didn't want to kick a pup while he's down and indulges him) partying up to the high heavens and the lowest hells.

You could even say that, like Beelzebub, Danny is eating up all of the good vibes that comes from other people while partying. How and why does Danny own a casino?

Vlad.

Vlad is indulging him because they both lost something that day, and then Danny was placed into his care, and they were both two disturbed to really continue their entire good vs evil thing and they kinda just, chilled out with each other. Danny asks for a casino one day on a whim, Vlad indulges him, then Danny starts partying up to get away from his own grief while Vlad buries himself in work to avoid his.

So, when the meta trafficking ring tries to capture everyone at the casino and the bats are there to stop them. Every rogue there silently agree to beat them up because one, they have dignity as ghosts and can't just let themselves be captured by humans.

Two, this is the playground of Danny and one of the few things people unanimously agree to never fight in (one of the others is the Christmas truce).

Three, this place is also owned by Vlad Masters. If the man is anything like how he was before the whole kicked pup thing (everyone thinks this applies to both Danny and Vlad) then they don't really want to tick him off and they're basically doing these humans a favor anyways.

Anything they could do to them physically; Vlad could do worse to them in the human world.

The batfamily sees this, and decides that nobody here actually needs their help and can take care of themselves. But also, given the track record of metas becoming rogues in this city, they can't just leave it alone either.

They would make a file about them at the most for the case they decide to run rampant through the city. But they'll leave them alone for the most part.

(Danny doesn't know who or what Batman is, as he doesn't exist in their dimension, yes even the comics don't exist. Neither does the batfamily know Danny Phantom, because he doesn't exist in their universe either.)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny and Vlad: loses the people they love all at once #Ghosts: They're in their kicked pup arc #Should Danny resemble Beelzebub in some way? #I have zero clue

[drunkwhenimadethis]

I was confessing my absurd fears to my bf with things along the lines of being betrayed or him finding other women sexually attractive and asked if he had any similar fears. He said he did, and it was that I was only with him for his money. Essentially: I am a gold digger. I have always refused monetary gifts and him paying for things. However I’ve been staying with him for three months after he got me kicked out of my last rooming house because Im in college and couldn’t find a place quick enough, and was extremely adamant about it but he insisted. We’ve been together for almost a year. He said that the thought of me using him for money is recurring, but he’s unemployed and his parents pay for everything besides his groceries. What do I make of this? It’s really offput me that he thinks of me this way

Disclaimer I love to remember that the English “advice” comes from the Latin “videre” to see so if I give you this advice it is not a prescription, it is only my way of looking at things in this moment

I think one thing I would like to point out is that you wrote: “It was that I was only with him for his money. Essentially: I am a gold digger.” There are a million ways of interpreting a single statement made by someone that we care about, and since so much of life creation begins with storytelling in the mind, you want to be quite meticulous about the interpretations that you align with and carry forward. I don’t think that “Essentially: I am a gold digger” makes the most sense logically nor in terms of experiencing what you want, which I assume is love, commitment, trust, and closeness

Why essentially are you a gold digger? Did he say that or did he say that he has an absurd fear that you might be with him for reasons other than who he himself is? “Money” —the word—and its associations make us react emotionally and indignantly “How dare you!!!!” but he said the same thing that you said, he shared the fear he has that maybe he alone is not enough for you

When you shared that you’re fearful of him being attracted to other women, did he say that essentially you are calling him a dishonest whore with no dick discipline? Would that make sense to you if he reacted that way or would you feel like hmm, this man is really making my fears about himself?

Your fears are yours and yours alone

I am guilty of wanting the perfect words or actions to assuage me but it never works out that way. You need to go into yourself and pour love on your fears and kill them

He can tell you everything you want to hear and then what happens when he’s out of sight?

What happens if he has to leave the country? What happens if you can’t have eyes on him?

Are we doomed to constantly revert back to fear?

See yourself as the only one 

Don’t entertain competition in your mind

Don’t dwell on these fears. Your subconscious can’t reason with you

Remove the negative imaginary conversations—not only are they a waste of time, they are by nature of reality active forces 

Be happy for him that his family takes care of him, not everyone gets that and it’s good

Imagine he will take care of you like his family taught him to. Imagine sturdiness and dependability. Imagine better than what you know

Wish him the best on his job search, remove safety-seeking in the form of judgment

You are deserving and you’re allowed to accept gifts from your boyfriend. Work on this asap, I think there's something in you that just doesn't feel worth it and you can't outrun that and nobody can appease that for long

And don't tell yourself that he got you kicked out of your last rooming house, even if it seems true. If you can choose any belief and create life with it, since you’re creating even when you’re not consciously aware that you’re doing so, why don’t you choose something that serves you both more? Why not tell yourself that the universe is conspiring to bring you closer to each other?

Loving and fearless! Avanti!

“The beautiful idea you awaken in yourself shall not fail to arouse its affinity in others.”

[alphabetboyluvr]

throttle - jjk | four

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - smut, a lil dirty talk over text, titwank, lil spit, lil degradation, lots of praise <3, handjob, showers, vaginal sex, (1) reference to you up?, jungkook cums 3 times in this one, the oc.... does not. CURIOUS. jaykay is soooo smitten :( Busan is proposed!! oh how our throttle couple luv busan <3, the angst is about to go from a 2 to a 6, jk is the pied piper, jk and cc play the desperation olympics, and they both lose!! namjoon is the worst (calls the oc a sket (twice!))

word count - 10.8k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

"Look what the cat dragged in," you smile, all big and bashful as soon as you see him.

It's been a little while; too long, you think. Different schedules and busy personal lives have kept you apart - but none of the distance ever matters. It always melts away with one flash of his pearly smile, which he often tries (and fails) to contain around you. 

"I wish," he groans, flopping onto your sofa. You're on the floor, typing away on your laptop, indifferent to the way he just lets himself into your apartment. It's been this way for a while now. "Haven't been near pussy in ages."

You gag, as if he's your brother or something. "Shut the fuck up, Yoongi."

He's dressed down in a pair of jeans and a shirt two sizes too big for him, but you can smell his laundry detergent from where you're sat. He's made an effort.

"You started it," he snorts, eyes not on you, but on your television. It's playing some muted drama that neither of you care for. He knows this, even when he asks you, "Whatcha watching?"

"Dunno," you hum, as predicted. "Just had it on for company."

Yoongi nods, understanding the desire.

He does it too; leaves the television running just so that he doesn't have to be alone with his thoughts.

Things are better these days. He's not as scared as he once was. It's been a couple of weeks, and after all, time heals. Eases. Pacifies.

Yoongi asks what you're doing, and pretends to be shocked when you tell him you're stalking. 

"Who is it this time?"

"Just a guy."

"It's never 'just a guy'."

It's morbid, the curiosity that Yoongi forces himself to endure. It's like your nails have a grasp around his heart, and with every beat of it, they sink further into the muscle. The more attached he becomes, the deeper the pain runs.

You don't realise quite how profoundly his blood turns green. He's good at feigning indifference; good at pretending like it is just a crush.

And so he asks questions because he wants to hurt himself a little bit more. Wants his heart to ache. Wants to feel the discomfort he so closely associates with love. It's reached a point where he thinks love has to hurt, otherwise, it's not real.

"Since when has a guy ever been more than just a guy," you toy back. None of your past lovers have ever lasted too long. You doubt Jungkook will, either. Just the way the cookie crumbles.

"Since you fall in love at the drop of a hat," Yoongi smiles. His eyes are slightly clouded, the sombre vapour of burnt-out desire smoking in them.

"I've never been in love," you retort a little too quickly.

It's not a lie, but it makes way for the admittance of something else instead:  you just love the attention that comes with men fawning after you.

And so you let Yoongi think that you have the capacity within you to love, because you fear that the love he has for you is conditional; transactional.

You just have to trust that the intentions behind acts of love are pure. You have to trust.

This issue with trust is that it's earned, not owed; and nobody has ever earned your trust. Never. Serpents lie beneath roses, and you'll be damned if you pick one either way, 'cause if it ain't a fang, it's a thorn that'll get you instead. 

"Anyways," you hum, not wanting to dwell on the topic. All of your searches of Jungkook's name have garnered minimal results, nothing of which you can be sure relates to him. Now, you need a distraction and Yoongi is as good as any. Your knees click as you stretch out, and Yoongi winces at the sound, before you plonk yourself down on the sofa next to him. "What shall we order for dinner?"

There's a howl of wind sneaking between the cracks in your window panes; a stark reminder that winter is still here, and it's still as bitter as ever. Like the river you walk across on a near-daily basis, your heart will take a while to thaw.

But as with all seasons, winter will mollify; and perhaps so will the ice chains that wrap themselves around your warmest muscle. Maybe. The way Jungkook hugs around your chest when he takes you from behind already has the ice weeping in the dark of night. You think it's just some kind of placebo effect. Best not to get carried away with sensation. 

Yoongi says something, but you're not listening. All you can hear is the soft splatter of water dripping from the ice; right down onto the chime that's oscillating in your stomach again. Fuck.

Across the street from your apartment complex sits a black SsangYong. It lurks in the shadows; silent, sinister, stalking.

A curt snap echoes through the car, as Namjoon breaks a Pepero stick in half, much to Jungkook's annoyance. 

That's literally not how you eat them, he seethes internally. His nostrils are a little flared, and his eyes are hard as they stare out the window and across to the stairs that lead up to your entryway. It has a plain end for a reason.

Namjoon knows this, obviously. Doesn't care. Can sense the way it's getting under Jungkook's skin, so he does it again.

"No point in us being here," Jungkook eventually huffs, channelling his disdain into something - anything - that isn't how fucking annoying Namjoon is. It's been nearly an hour.

"Whoever owns that heap of shit has to come out, soon," Namjoon says of the Mini parked outside of your apartment block. He mutters under his breath for what must be the millionth time, "Fuckin' Ajumma's car."

"It's a John Cooper Works," Jungkook says a little flippantly. He's not impressed, not by any means, but he knows it isn't something to turn his nose up at. Might look like the kind of thing his mother would have loved, but it packs a punch. Limited edition, factory-grade. One of only two thousand. A mean little beast that'd give his Pony a run for its money, even with the mods.

"Okay? Tell Mr John Cooper that it's still an Ajumma's car," Namjoon shrugs. He doesn't give a shit about imports. They're all weak in comparison to the homegrown beauties he likes to drive. Jungkook could argue for days that he's wrong, but Namjoon simply wouldn't bother to listen - so what was the point? "Anyways," he continues, snapping another chocolate coated stick. It's about now that Jungkook wishes Peperos would have sharp ends so that he could stick them in his ears. "Either the fucker who drives it comes out now, or he says inside and carries on railing the sket until the sun comes up. Doesn't matter which. We've got a car to keep tabs on."

"You don't know he's fucking her-"

"We've both seen her," Namjoon scoffs, mouth half full, a little biscuit dust puffing out from his plump lips. "He's screwing the absolute fuck out of her."

"What does that even mean?" Jungkook's nose really is upturned, now. "You're just being vulgar for the sake-"

"Oh, give over. What was the first thing you said about her?"

"I-"

"Prissy bitch," Namjoon imitates. "Stick up her ass - pretty good ass though."

It almost makes Jungkook laugh, because while his former self isn't wrong (he thinks your ass is a gift from the Gods), he knows that it's your tits he could worship all day long. 

If it were him in your apartment, he knows he'd be doing just that. Praising you; Worshipping, devoting, revering. He's never believed in God, not really. Never prays, never looks to the sky and mumbles words of desperation; but when he's beneath you, he finds himself beseeching. Imploring the man in the sky to let him feel the way that he feels when he's inside of you forever. Sometimes he wonders if you must be what heaven feels like. Knows he'd sacrafice himself for it. For you.

In theory, at least. Fears if he tells Namjoon this, he'll have to experience it in practise. He's not ready to, not yet. Just in case he's wrong, and he really does lose the closest thing to heaven that he's ever known.

"I just think we're going to an awful lot of effort for this," he deflects. "The more we know about this girl, the more variables we have to consider, and the less likely it is that we can actually get this shit done."

"We knew less last time," Namjoon says without skipping a beat. He knows this game better than most. Knows that it's imperative that they resolve the mess they made in the gas station as quickly as possible. "And look at where that got us - beating up some fuckin' dude who didn't have a clue what was going on."

"You didn't have to go so hard on him."

"I did. You know I did."

Silence resumes, and remains that way until Namjoon whacks Jungkook on his chest with the back of his hand a few hours later. His attention is diverted from his phone, which drops to his laps as his neck almost snaps to look in the direction of your apartment.

You're laughing as you walk down the stairs from your entryway. Jungkook thinks he can hear you. 

He can't. He just remembers. Know the way it almost sounds like you're hiccuping when you start struggling to draw more air into your lungs, too happy to focus on keeping yourself alive.

Your body leans into the guy you're with, and there's an ease to the way you are together, one that has Jungkook feeling all uneasy. He adjusts in his seat - earns himself a hiss from Namjoon for being 'distracting' - and tries to focus on anything but the way you pull the guy in for a hug. It's not necessarily anything more than platonic, but it's not the hug of a stranger, either.

"It's him," Namjoon's voice is low, barely a vibration between his lips. "Guy from the gas station. Sket is shitting where she eats." He laughs. "Un-fucking-believable."

Jungkook says nothing. It's a little hard to speak with the weight of the world crashing down on your lungs, though.

Instead he simply nods, and reaches for his phone.

꾹: i gotta see you.

꾹: think i'm going crazy without you.

You don't reply until you're inside, clearing up the remains of the food you'd shared with Yoongi.

You: i'm not a therapist :/

꾹: please.

You: my place or yours?

꾹: mine.

When Namjoon asks who Jungkook is texting, he lies. 

"Just Jin. Says if we have a visual on the driver, we're good to go."

"Good to go?" The question is asked an octave or so higher than Namjoon's usual deep drawl, surprised at such an instruction. "Thought we had to tail?"

Jungkook shrugs. "Change of plan. Says Kang ain't around to report to, so it doesn't matter what we do."

His lies will catch up with him eventually, but not today. 

Today, Jungkook gets to pretend like everything is okay for just a little while longer. He's lucky that Jin trusts him enough to get the job done. He won't ask questions, will just know that whatever reason Jungkook had to lie will be worth it in the long run. He's a good worker, part of the team. He'd never intentionally sabotage them.

Or at least, he was a good worker. Was part of the team. Was never one to sabotage. Was one to play by the rules, and always win.

But Jungkook is playing games with trick dice, now. Rolling doubles every single time. He's gonna be the first to reach the exit line, but he's gonna reach it alone.

"Alright," Namjoon sighs, starting the engine up. The lights from his headlamps flare in front of the vehicle, flooding the desolate road. It's always quiet around these parts after it hits midnight.

A little off the beaten track, your place is on the backstreets; somewhere inconspicuous. Somewhere easily hidden. Concealed. The daughter of a politician disguised in breadline poverty. 

Jungkook kind of hates that he knows where you live.

Not because he doesn't want to know, but because you haven't shown him. You've always gone back to his. He wouldn't suggest anything else, for fear of being caught without reason down around your side of town. There are only so many times he can lie about late-night boxing sessions without someone catching on.

"What a waste of an evening," Namjoon huffs a little more. He's a smart guy, smarter than Jungkook and probably every other fucker who congregates at Old Kang's place, but he's credulous to an absolute fault when it comes to the fuckers he runs the streets with. Would never betray a single one of them - not even Jungkook.

"It was past your bedtime, like, three hours ago. Consider yourself lucky that you got to stay out and play for this long," Jungkook ribs. 

See, Namjoon's partner doesn't like him staying out so late. They worry. Blow up his phone, not to control, but out of concern. They've seen the dark side of the business that the boys are caught up in, and don't want that darkness to stain the colours of the man they love. 

It's a mean jibe, and between close friends, it would have been funny -but the pair of them haven't laughed together in weeks.

Not since Jungkook fucked Namjoon's younger sister.

He hadn't meant for it to go as far as it had, but she was keen and he was horny. What's a boy to do?

They'd been in the same year group at school, so it's not like it was the most absurd pairing in the world. Never been friends, not really, but knew each other well enough that they always managed to strike up a conversation after a few drinks.

She was always hanging around the bars the boy went to, and Jungkook had been letting his hair down; one last night of freedom before he had to knuckle down and start the job Kang was assigning them.

He'll never admit it, but your assumptions about him on the first night you met were right. The KNJ on his phone was a FWB turned far too clingy: Kim Naejeon.

Needless to say, Namjoon hasn't exactly been Jungkook's biggest fan since he found out. Such is life.

Jungkook's phone buzzes in his lap, and he's relieved to see two little c's on the screen where the message ID is.

You: time?

꾹: just on my way home.

꾹: lemme send a taxi to yours.

Sat on your floor again, laptop open with your last search - jungkook, daegu, pony - on screen, you find yourself deafened by the chime in your stomach. It rings like the theme to a studio ghibli film, all pompous and ridiculous, and warm and lovely. 

You sound like a banshee, squeaking with badly handled excitement. The shrill noise that escapes your lips as you throw your phone onto the sofa is borderline psychotic.

You never get like this over a boy.

You don't actually think you've ever squealed over a boy before, but one small act of chivalry - the bare minimum - has you doing somersaults.

It's funny, because it's not like he's the first guy to ever suggest sending a taxi your way. Unlike all of Yoongi's offers, though, you accept. You play it all cool and coy by simply sending him through your address, not like he needs it.

꾹: on its way.

꾹: i can't wait to see you.

You're not really sure how to deal with such a declaration. It's needy and pathetic and if it were any other boy, it would have you throwing up in your mouth - but it's not just any boy. It's him. 

You:  someone's a little desperate.

You don't have it in you to play nice, even if your grin is wider than the river behind your apartment block. Jungkook doesn't expect any less. In fact, he smiles when the message comes through - and quickly stiffens his cheeks again, not wanting Namjoon to make a comment.

꾹: desperate? 

꾹: i'm not sure this is a game you want to play, CC.

Oh, how wrong he is.

You:  i love games.

The double-entendre isn't lost on him, but any ability to not let you affect him is. Blood pumps around his body faster. Harder. It rushes, almost, with a single destination in mind. Makes him adjust ever so slightly in his seat, his spare hand coming to rest between his legs. He used to think he had self-control, but you're constantly surprising him. 

He's learnt more about himself since he met you than he has in years. Realised that he isn't maybe who he thinks he is. Doesn't dwell on it, though, 'cause he enjoys the way it feels when the crotch of his trousers gets tighter.

꾹: i only like them when i win.

You:  i only ever win.

꾹:we'll see about that tonight.

You: oh?

꾹: see who really is the desperate one.

You:  its you :) x

The taxi arrives far faster than you expect, but Jungkook is pleased when he checks the app and sees the car en-route to his. He takes a note of the number plate and the registered driver. Doesn't trust the drivers around here. They're too fast without enough skill, he always thinks. Has lost count of the number of busses he's seen rear-end asshole taxi drivers. Luckily the roads are dead at this time of night, but he'll be damned if anything happens to you.

꾹: sure about that?

꾹: i know a few ways to get you a little desperate.

You:  you don't know shit.

꾹: i know you get a little desperate when my hand is round your throat.

You: bullshit.

꾹: i know you get incredibly desperate when my fingers are in your mouth.

You:  your fingers have never been in my mouth.

It's a lie. Of course it is. It's kinda become rare for the two of you to fuck without them being in your mouth at some point or another, whether it's to clean them off or just to give him a visual of just how devoted you look when he does it. He loves it and so do you.

꾹: no?

Jungkook almost ignores Namjoon as he asks, "what are you smiling at?", only to tell him that it's none of his business, lowering the brightness of his screen and clicking through into his camera roll.

He's a visual guy. Likes the things he can see. Tangible stuff. The photo that comes through to your phone has you flustered.

It's just the lower half of your face, and Jungkook's distinctive, tattooed hands in your mouth. There's a sheen to your lips. His fingers, too.

It's alarming how quickly you've become so comfortable with him. You barely know the guy. Shame that the alarm bells are always muted by the chime in your stomach.

You: must be some other girl ;)

꾹: told you already, CC.

꾹: i'm not interested in any other girls.

꾹: i only wanna see you.

When a picture of your legs, crossed and poised prettily in the back of the taxi, comes through to his phone, he's pleased. You're wearing tights. It's one of his favourite things a girl can wear - though he's not really sure why. He just loves how soft they are, how smooth they feel against his skin. Has him thinking about running his hands up and down them, and the way he knows you'll be looking all smug when he does so.

You:  i'll see u soon x

You:  desperate ;)

Jungkook thinks about locking his phone. Thinks about leaving you hanging. Thinks about the fact it will probably put you on edge a little if he doesn't reply - but he's weak. Knows that not replying will just put him on edge instead.

꾹: will it make you feel better if i admit it?

You:  yes.

꾹: fine.

꾹: been thinking about you since the moment you left my apartment last.

꾹: impossible not to when my fucking pillows smell like you.

꾹: think about you when i smell gasoline at kangs.

꾹: think about you when i stop at red lights.

꾹: also think about how fucking wet you were the last time we stopped at one.

꾹: i'm at a red light right now.

꾹: god, i gotta fuck you.

You:  told you you were desperate :) 

꾹: i am.

You:  how do you want me tonight?

꾹: naked.

You:  that goes without saying, no?

꾹: naked and begging.

You:  i don't beg.

You: not for any man.

꾹: c'mon, CC. a little reciprocation goes a long way.

꾹: you got me on my metaphorical knees.

꾹: be nice of you to get on yours.

You roll your eyes as the taxi rolls to a stop downtown, just by Jungkooks place. It parks on the wrong side of the street, but you pay it no notice. Chalk it up to a GPS error on the app.

You:  i'm pulling up to yours now. you home yet?

꾹: not yet. be about 5. let yourself in. code is 0901.

There's a casual intimacy to the way in which Jungkook trusts you with his door code. It's an act of convenience, not anything to read too much into, but you're a creature of habit. Assumptions are your bread and butter. If there are conclusions to be jumped to, you're getting your pole vault out. Setting a new PB. Going for the world record.

So no, it doesn't have to mean anything. You know it probably doesn't - but you indulge in the 'what if' just for the hell of it.

His apartment is cold, the ondol off, one of the windows cracked open ever so slightly to let the air out. Winters are dry round these parts, and Jungkook has an odd paranoia around developing black mould in his apartment. It's not unwarranted - he's pretty sure his last place made him sick because of it. Knows for certain that it made his mother weaker before she passed. Refuses to let history ever repeat itself.

You're unaware of this, though, and slide the window shut. It's the height of winter, and he knows damn well if he's gonna get lucky tonight that it's gotta be a little bit warmer in his apartment.

You take a moment to refamiliarise yourself with his place. There's not much. A little furniture, some prints you recognise from the market downtown up on his wall. There are no personal artifacts, though. No more clues as to who Jungkook really is. You'll have him naked tonight, granted, but you won't have him naked. He won't be vulnerable; laid bare.

But you're not exactly gonna complain when you have him bare in the other sense.

In fact, you think you much prefer it this way. It'll be easier to let him go when the time inevitably comes.

You toss your coat on his desk chair and your shoes are kicked beneath it, not caring much for neatness. The rest of your clothes follow suit, and then you're waiting, all desperate and pliant, just like he asked for. 

Though you're not one to beg, you're aware of how nicely he had requested - and how hot and bothered he had gotten you en-route to his place.

There's a thrum in your chest, and it beats to the same harmonious melody that the chime in your stomach produces.

Back straight, feathers smoothed, you're a songbird waiting for someone to hear your call. It only takes a few moments, the beep of Jungkook's keypad echoing through the door as he punches in the code adding a new layer to your song.

"Hey," he calls through, his voice muffled slightly through the sliding partition doors. The glass is frosted, but you can make out his silhouette as he kicks his shoes off by the door. "Just been on a job. Emergency at an office building downtown. Some bad wires. Tripped."

The lies roll off his tongue like butter in a hot pan. They sizzle. Spit. Burn you and scar you with the portrayal of a man who isn't who he pretends to be.

Thing is, Jungkook is exactly who he pretends to be.

He really does get too hot in the night, and genuinely does find videos of kids falling over far funnier than he knows he should. His hair sticks up on end when he wakes up, and he loves his car more than life itself. The way he winces after taking shots, and his dimples, which form in moments of contemplation beneath his cheeks, are entirely natural to him.

None of it - none of him - is a lie. At his core, Jungkook is the idea in your head; the yellow of midafternoon sun before it sets.

He's the amber light that flashes before fading into red. 

That's his issue, though. Inevitably, he will always, unavoidably, turn red.

Jungkook likes to tell himself he's not a bad person. He just does bad things, occasionally. But don't we all?

Yeah, the voice in his head would rationalise. But bad things are sneakily not paying for plastic carrier bags at supermarket self-checkouts, or failing to tell a friend they have food stuck in their teeth. Not petty violent crimes and conspiracy to-

"Took your time," you flirt.

It takes him longer than he'd like to get from his kitchen and to where you are, his laces proving to be a bit of a bitch when he's in a hurry. He's dressed down, a pair of light wash jeans clinging to his thighs for dear life, a baggy grey sweater hiding that itty bitty waist of his.

You find yourself smiling, his presence bringing more than just the promise of satisfied desire.

It's dangerous how you can't hear anything other than the chime in your stomach whenever you see him. Might deafen you one day. Or maybe you'll hear it so often that it will just fade into white noise. Not a favourable outcome, not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Holy fuckin' shit."

You tilt your head and feign confusion, as if you don't know why he's salivating like a dog being offered a bone. You're on your knees, as requested, palms flat on the tops of your thighs; not naked, but you may as well be. A lace red set leaves little to the imagination, one of his flannel shirts draped over your shoulders to keep you warm - but also 'cause he seems like the kind of guy to eat that shit up.

So while you're right where he wanted you, as he struggles to form a coherent sentence, he's exactly where you wanted him.

Finally, he finds a few words.

"Desperation looks good on you, CC."

Arrogant son of a bitch, you think, but there's a grin on your lips that you just can't hide. 

"Mmm," you flirt, not caring to drag things out. You want him so badly that hard to get seems like a dumb idea. "Maybe - but I think you'll find I look better on your dick."

His shoulders pull up towards his ears, head dropping as a small laugh vibrates in his throat at the boldness of such a statement.

"You're not wrong - but I like this," he says, closing the space between you. His voice is soft, as one of his hands cups your cheek and angles your jaw upwards so that you're looking directly at him. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and - almost like you've been conditioned - your lips part for it to rest on your tongue. "I like this a lot."

Your lips close around it, tongue massaging his thumb as you slowly suck on it.

It's gentle, and warm, and - fuck - he's spent so long thinking about the way your mouth feels but it never compares to actually experiencing it. Your lips vibrate as you hum, satisfied with the effect you seem to be having on him.

His lips are parted, eyes void of all thoughts, as if you've bewitched him. Maybe you have. He wouldn't put it past you. There's something dark behind your eyes, something he doesn't quite understand. Something he knows better than to let himself study for too long.

Jungkook's room is dark, the glow of his fairy lights dousing him in soft reservoirs of gold. The light from his kitchen pours in behind him, his back to the clouded screen door, a halo circling around his darling blonde waves. Your eyes must be betraying you, you think, 'cause there's no way a man this heavenly exists. It's impossible.

"Bet you're wet, aren't you?" he toys, voice low, a teasing grin on those pretty pink lips of his. He may look like an angel, but there's a pair of horns hidden beneath his curls.

There's no hesitation as you nod, vocalisations cut short thanks to his thumb remaining snug between your lips. Why lie? He wants you desperate, so he's getting exactly that. You think he deserves it. Think he always makes you feel good, so why not indulge him in this little fantasy? You can play desperate, if he really wants.

"Show me," he says so quietly it's almost a whisper; almost as if he doesn't believe he's asking you to do such a thing for him. It's not like it would be the most outlandish exchange the pair of you have had together, but the vulnerability is never easy. 

Never easy to ask for, never easy to give. Especially not when Jungkook is harbouring secrets that he knows would shatter the fortress walls he's built up around the pair of you. 

You're unaware of this as your hand creeps between your thighs, to where a mess is pooling in your panties. 

It annoys you just how eager you are for him. You wish you weren't; wish he had to work for it. The tips of your fingers push against your entrance, but it's all just for show - you've been wet since the moment he first messaged you that evening. 

You let your eyes fall to his crotch. It's strained, the pale denim doing an awful job at hiding how hard he is. He's been plump the entire journey home, but now that he's here - now that you're looking like that - he's solid.

He watches you, the way you move, the slight heave of your chest, and knows that you're down just as bad as he is. You wouldn't be on your knees if you weren't. In fact, you wouldn't be here, full stop.

You reach for his belt and set about getting to work immediately. His jeans are pushed to midway down his thighs, boxers following suit. The way his cock springs out of them, all fat and proud, has you salivating.

And so it's only fair that you take it in your mouth as soon as you can.

He reaches behind you and tweaks at the clasp of your bra. It loosens almost instantly, and you hum in approval of how easily he managed to do that. You let the straps slide down your arms, his cock still in your mouth as you toss it to the side.

"Between them," he instructs.

It's tempting to just do as he says. Irresistible, almost. You want him between your tits just as much as he wants to be there, but you want him more vocal. Want him begging. It's his own fault for getting you into such a submissive position. It's a flaw, the way you need to level the playing field, but one that he never fails to deliver on.

"C'mon, CC," he whispers, voice dulcet, trapped in his throat as he suppresses a moan. "Put my cock between your tits."

Your hands fall from the backs of his thighs to play with your breasts, your nipples hard and eager for him. Vibrating around his mouth as you moan, you're pleased with the grip he has on your hair. It tightens, and when he speaks, you're convinced his voice could make you cum alone, "I'm not gonna ask you again."

His cock takes a few more strokes of your hot mouth before you withdraw, stiff and flushed in front of you. He encourages you up so that you're sat on your knees, ass up instead of resting on your ankles as it had been. There's a string of your slick running from your heels to your pussy, the mess desperately seeping from you. Jungkook can't see it, isn't aware of it, so before you do anything, you dip two of your fingers between your folds to gather it up. He watches with laboured breaths.

You don't drop contact with his eyes, not even when they're trained on your fingers. He watches as you hold them up, glittering from the reflection of his fairy lights, before your tongue licks them clean. His cock jerks, the visual stimulation building his need to come undone by tenfold.

There's a little bit of your slickness still on your fingers when you pump his cock, once, twice, three times. 

"Sorry, baby," you toy with the term of endearment, the groan he exhales when you say it confirming that you need to call him sweet nothings more often. "Where did you want your cock, again?"

He's been avoiding touching your chest, not wanting to take control of the situation, but your shoulders roll back just a little, your soft mounds his for the taking. His grip drops from your hair, the tips of his fingers ghosting your chest. He runs them delicately across your stiff nipples, his touch so minimal that you feel yourself leak, pussy throbbing, desperate for more.

Resting perfectly between his index finger and thumb, your nipples are pulled ever so slightly, before he finally indulges himself and cups your tits like he so desperately wants to. He holds them together and wobbles them, obsessed with how soft they are. He edges closer, the tip of his cock nudging against your cleavage. There's a small trail of precum leaking from his tip, the sheen now coating your skin. "Right there."

Spit gathers and pools in your mouth, lips pouting as you let it drip onto your tits. Jungkook groans, his hips pushing his cock further onto your chest. You hold your tits apart, his leaking crown kissing your sternum before you angle him upwards. The soft, pillowy cushions press around his thick shaft, keeping him firmly in place.

"That's it, baby," he mewls as you spit again, this time onto the head of his cock. You drop your gaze and lower your head, tongue flat as it licks the tip, spreading your spit. His hips are jerking against you, his foreskin nestled in place, cock tugging against itself.

"Look at me," he says quietly, as dulcet as the atmosphere in his room. Your eyes meet his, as your hands firmly jiggle your cleavage. His mouth hangs ajar, brows knotted in such a way you think he looks like his mind is all tangled up. You're not wrong - he can't think straight like this. All he can think about is how much he wants to fuck you in every single capacity he can. "That's it."

You grin, but try to hide it. "You like my tits, huh?"

Jungkook wants to roll his eyes, and almost does - but then you spit again, the pace of your jiggling hands quickening, and he finds himself doubling over. 

"Fuck," he whines, completely undignified. Any strong, stable demeanour he has feigned is lost as his cock gets slippery, covered in your spit, being massaged by your tits. "Spit."

The momentum is retained, but it's getting sloppier. There's limited friction, your spit acting as the perfect lube for him to fuck your tits. He doesn't really know what to do with himself, how to withhold himself from spilling onto your chest, but he's all hot and bothered. He isn't gonna last long.

"Bed," he husks, pulling away from you, not even registering the fact he's helping you up. He just kind of does it, his mind entirely on where he wants to be. "On your back."

You do as you're told, your bare back hitting his freshly laundered duvet as your head nestles into his mountain of pillows. His legs straddle either side of your chest, movements frantic as he traps his cock between your tits once more. He's in control, the pace entirely set by him, his large hands gripping the flesh of your chest like he normally does your waist. 

"Shit," he hisses. "Fuckin' love your tits."

Your hands grip his ass, encouraging his movements, before one of them roams to toy with your clit. The change in your moans is noticed by Jungkook, who glances back to check you're doing what he thinks you are. Suspicions confirmed, he laughs. "Dirty bitch," he keens. "Love being owned by my cock, don't you?"

You pause, and Jungkook notices a look in your eyes. It's one he knows well; one he enjoys. Nonetheless, one that panics him when he's in such a compromising position, because it looks like you've just been challenged.

With a pathetic, pouty mewl, you push your fingers into yourself. It's quick, your fingers pumping frantically to build enough slickness on them to wipe the smirk off Jungkooks face.

The hand that's still on his ass squeezes, your nails indenting him ever so slightly. He hisses, a lopsided grin on his lips as he continues to fuck your chest - until the feeling of your soaked fingers stroking his taint has him stuttering.

You apply a little pressure, the pump of his cock slow between your tits. His breaths are laboured. It almost sounds like he gasping for air, unable to concentrate on anything but the sensation of you.

Brows furrowed, eyes wide, you pout. "Thought I was being owned by your cock, baby?" You tease him, and are met with him cursing you out, a saccharine smile on his lips.

"Fucking hate you," he laughs, abs shuddering as your fingers trails further up. They're stroking, caressing, toying - and they don't stop. Not until they reach the tight muscle of his that you're just dying to penetrate. He's silent now. Doesn't want to tell you that he wants it, but fuck it, he does. He pulls back, eyes on yours. There's a hint of a nod, but you're not gonna do anything too daring unless he explicitly asks for it.

Your soaked finger presses against him, cautious not to take it too far. You're still learning each other; what you both like, and you aren't sure where his limits lie.

"Yes? No?" you question, eyes earnest. His ass has never been explicitly discussed between the pair of you, but he also never ruled it out, either.

He's quiet, but smiles when he shakes his head. "Not yet, C. Another time, though."

"I'll hold you to that," you tease, curious about his desires. You wanna know all the ways you can get him off, and you think you'll be willing to do almost anything. In fact, you know you will. All he has to do is say the word, and your tongue will be wherever he wants it.

His eyes roll back, and so do his hips. "And I'll hold you to the offer."

It's a rarity, he's found, for girls to be so bold. He's always had to be the one to initiate his own pleasure, or to just finish quicker than he'd like because his partner was already done. He likes this about you. Likes that you like to fuck. Likes that you apparently, for whatever reason, seem to especially like fucking him.

It's thoughts like these - something about luck, fate - that plague his mind as he pushes his cock between your tits again. It's fast, and it's sloppy, and it's wet, and soon enough, he isn't thinking at all. All he can do is feel - your warmth, your softness - and then all he can feel is how fucking good it is to be with you.

When he comes, he comes hard. It hits your throat, coating you in everything he is. A moan catches in his throat, eyes closed, hands pushing your tits so tight together that it fucking hurts - but he's shaking, and you know that his orgasm has him unable to realise just how strong his grip is. 

It's not till he looks down at you, all breathless and blushed that he realises. There's a sheen on your chest, and he knows better than to dirty you all over again - but he's a creature of habit. His grip loosens, chest heaving as his hands begin to stroke at your tits. They fill his palms, overspill blooming between his spread fingers as he gently remedies them of his strength. It's unintentional, though not minded, how he spreads his cum as he does so. 

You try and keep a straight face, but it's impossible, and then you're both laughing. It echoes around his room like the missing instrument to the song in your stomach. You aren't really sure why you're laughing. Nor is he. You're just happy. The pair of you remain this way for a moment or so, casually enamoured with how easy things are; how easy they could be.

"C'mon, CC," he speaks fondly, but spanks your titty for the fun of it regardless. "Let's get you cleaned up."

There's a tender nature to the way Jungkook moves your body. So docile, he's a world away from the version of himself that you'd just had in his bed.

This Jungkook - the one gently pulling your hair back so it doesn't get too wet while you wait for the shower to fully heat up - is so well mannered that you couldn't imagine him cursing, let alone calling you a bitch during sex.

Something about it, about him, has you feeling far more infatuated than you should be at this stage.

You're not ready for all this. Not prepared for the way you're feeling. It scares you. Gets you wanting to grab the towel and make a swift exit - but then he kisses your neck, hands on your hips, chest pressed into your back, and you realise that there's no place you'd rather be.

He reaches out to check the temperature of the water that's steaming into his bathroom, and decides it's just right. It's not that the water is particularly hot, just that his bathroom is bloody freezing. 

Your reflection in his mirror is a vision of beauty; eyes trained on him, skin tainted by what would have been his legacy. Part of him doesn't want to wash it away. Just wants to marvel at you. Study the way your skin dimples and bumps when you're cold; then remembers that you can't cum when you're cold, so you probably aren't enjoying this as much as he is. He lifts the showerhead from its holder, and lets the water pour over you, and you alone.

The warmth has your shoulders easing almost instantly, and Jungkook feels a little guilty for having kept you cold so selfishly.

He's quiet as he rinses himself from you, contemplative dimples perching themselves beneath his cheeks. He barely utters a word for the entire shower; just peppers your shoulders in kisses.

It's not till you turn to face him, taking the showerhead from his hand and begin rinsing his body that he finally speaks up.

He takes a moment to study you first; watch the way your eyes glaze over his body, following the trajectory of the water, making sure you don't miss a single inch of his skin. Your lashes are dark, hiding your eyes from him, and he doesn't like it. Instinctively, his hands cup your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Thank you."

His lips are on yours, soft, no pressure - and then they're not. They're trailing down your neck instead, as if he can't decide which part of you he wants to devour.

'All of you' is the correct answer, but he eats for pleasure, not for sustenance.

Easily, he could have you for everything that you are within a few seconds - but he wants to savour you. Wants to hear the way your breath hitches as his tongue flicks against your earlobe; feel your fingers dig into his scalp as he paws at your round ass. He wants the memory of your body in his hands, 'cause he fears you're like sand, and that his grasp won't be able to keep hold of you forever.

His bathroom is cramped, more like a wetroom, and the same grey tiles are on the walls that are on the floor. Shower attached to the sink, it's the standard for one-room apartments around these parts.

Yours is the same - but you do have the added luxury of boujie conditioners and loofas to soften the blow.

Jungkook has a 2-in-1 body wash and shampoo combo, and doesn't see the point in fancy scrubs when the labour of his job leaves his hands all rough anyway.

In your right mind, you'd moan about it. Tell him that he's such a boy, or that next time, he's coming to yours for a shower - but you're distracted by the hardness of his cock against your stomach and his hands cupping at your chest while he kisses you. The stream of water makes it borderline impossible to open your eyes, so you revel in the way it feels to be overwhelmed by everything he is.

"Again?" You mumble into his lips, to which you're met with a nod.

You slip your rings off and hear them clink against the porcelain of his sink, praying that your aim is correct and they won't end up down the drain. He hums a small purr of confusion, questioning your actions, and then groans an 'oh' into your mouth when your hand clasps around the base of his cock.

"Gentle," he reminds you, still sensitive but desperate for you once more.

His lips leave yours, head tilting back as he revels in your touch. Neither of you speak, but there's really not much to say. You'd just be making noise for the sake of it.

Regardless, there's a weight in your chest, clamping down on your lungs, that makes talking seem impossible. Might be trepidation. Might be nothing at all - but it sure does feel like something.

You marvel at the column of his thick neck as it stretches back, and think how pretty it would look covered in purple and pink, the bruise of your intimacy staining his skin just like it has done your heart.

Your movements pause when you realise you're thinking about your fucking heart. You're not sappy. You don't attribute sex to love, and the idea of even falling in love has you wanting to run for the hills.

It's been said before that the heart is just a muscle. It has no real bearing on your emotions, nor your amatory exploits.

But when the thoughts of your feelings cloud your mind with dainty pink vapours, all sparkly and strawberry scented, you can't help but feel like you're in danger.

In your chest, you can feel your heart ache.

So yeah, it is just a muscle, but muscles get worn out.

Jungkook notices your hesitation. He casts his eyes down to check you're okay. His crown rests against the wet tiles, water-saturated hair stuck to his face, lashes damp and lips all pouty. The man is a vision. Naked, bare, vulnerable. Yours for the taking, or so it seems. His eyes are heavy-lidded, deep brown; sweet as chocolate, sinful as straight whisky.

"You good?" He asks quietly, only for you to nod and pick the pace up again. His eyes stay on yours as a laboured grunt escapes his lips, brows pinching together. The way you feel around him is so good. Not too tight, just the way he likes it. Fingers all dainty, nails painted red, it's a sight he thinks about when he's alone more than he cares to admit. He's thick and hot in your grasp, working his foreskin up and down his shaft.

There are goosebumps on your skin, body positioned just out of the shower stream because you wanted to look at him; watch as you wound him up, just to make him unravel again. He pulls you closer, hands cupping your jaw as he kisses you, until you're beneath the water again.

His tongue is in your mouth as his hand drops to meet yours. So much larger than your own, his fingers clasp around yours and joins the effort, speeding up. He doesn't say anything else, but he's struggling to kiss you, now. His lips are ajar, resting against yours, little purrs of satisfaction finding a home on your tongue.

"Yeah?" You encourage a little breathlessly, as if you're the one moments away from ruin. "That's it, Kook."

He nods, as the hand that isn't on yours tangles in the back of your hair to keep you close. His hand works to increase the pace, making it a little rougher. There's a wetness between your legs that isn't from the shower, but you're too focused on him - on making him feel good, on being what he needs - to bother doing anything about it. He'll return the favour later, you're sure. He always does.

His grip on your hand loosens, leaving it up to you to finish the job. It only takes a second or two, and then you're milking him, thick white cum desecrating your hand and spurting into your stomach. There's not much, most of it spent on your chest earlier. He shudders, one of his legs a little more so than the other, his moans lost in the pitter-patter of the shower until they become nothing more than hot, heavy breaths.

And then, because quite frankly he doesn't know how to articulate how good, how fucking precious, how god damn infuriatingly beautiful you are, he kisses you again. Though his tongue is soft as it strokes against yours, his piercing is hard - much like his cock which is still firm against your stomach. He encourages your arms up and around his neck, hugging tightly. Your chest presses to his, nipples hard, tits pillowy and soft, and Jungkook swears he'll risk it all for you.

Thinks it would be worth it.

He'd do this wherever with you; in his crappy apartment, in a hotel he'll pay far too much for, in a derelict motel that hides you both when it inevitably becomes time to run.

Thing is, he knows you now. Knows you'll never run with him. Knows that when you find out, he'll never get to do this ever again. It makes him want to cry. Makes him wanna get on his knees and beg for forgiveness before you even know you're mad at him.

You don't forgive. You don't forget, either. You wouldn't be working in a shitty GS25 if you did. He knows this. Knows that as soon as the truth is out, so is he.

And so Jungkook lies. "Come to Busan with me."

Your noses are nestled together, and you can feel his words against your lips. The shower keeps on pouring, but it won't cleanse him of his sins. The water still runs red, even if you can't see it. 

"Busan?"

He nods, steals a kiss, and begins to build upon the weak foundations he's formed. "I gotta go visit home. Been putting it off. Think it'll be more bearable with you there."

You kiss him back. Partially because you want to, but mainly because you don't know what the fuck to say. Your heart rate has doubled. Trebled. In fact, you're not sure it's beating anymore.

Family isn't a subject either of you has divulged in, not really. You fear that him opening up requires reciprocation, and that's just not something you're willing to give. Not to him, nor anyone else for that matter.

"When?" You finally murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling away to slip your rings back onto your fingers.

He doesn't want you to meet his family. Doesn't want you anywhere near them - but when the time comes, he needs you to know why he ended up here. Needs you to know that everything he's done, rightfully or wrongfully, has been for them.

Doing right by them means doing wrong by you, but he didn't know you when all this started.

Didn't know that you're the type to point out every trash cat you see, or that you make up little songs to soundtrack almost everything you do (regardless of the fact you're tone-deaf). He didn't know that you drank peach tea like it's water, or that you'd somehow taste a little bit like it too. He didn't know that you'd become his favourite flavour, or that the scent of your perfume would have him hugging his fucking pillows for days after you slept over. 

He didn't know. 

Didn't fuckin' know.

And now he does. And it's tearing him apart.

He's a good liar, though, so you don't notice just how cut up he is when he shrugs and twists the shower tap off. He reaches around for the towel and begins to wrap you up when he says, "Next weekend?"

When he's like this - voice soft, skin bare, tucking the top of the towel over against your chest - it's like you've got the upper hand. There's no battle being fought between the pair of you, and yet you don't feel like equals. Feels like the balls in your court. You just don't realise you're playing different games.

There's pitter-patter beneath your feet and a chime in your stomach. You shuffle between his feet, his arms wrapped around you, lips pressing a kiss against your hair.

"I'll have to check the rota," you say, but you know you'll just ask Yoongi to swap shifts if you are scheduled on. "But I haven't been to Busan in a while. I'd like to come."

His eyes are hot as he presses them shut, chin resting on your head. You think the stutter in his chest is just a hiccup, so you smile. Without the sound of the shower, he can hear his phone buzzing, vibrating on his desk in the next room over.

"Gotta get that," he says, squeezing you before loosening his grip and reaching for a small towel that barely covers his ass. The air is cold against his skin as he opens the bathroom door. Steam gushes out of the room, and so does the hazy, cum-drunk atmosphere the pair of you had created. You miss it the second your skin begins to pebble, goosebumps chilling you, the hair on your arms stood up on end. Almost like someone's walking over your grave.

Maybe just leading you to an early one. Either, or.

You hear him as he mumbles on the phone - "Jin. Yeah? What's up? Cool, can do." - but ignore it. Steam has fogged up the mirror, creating a cloudy canvas for you to do your worst upon. It's childish, yes, but nothing stops you from drawing a little something on there to remind him of you next time he showers.

An uneasy weight sits on your chest when you look at what you've done. It's nothing bad, but part of you thinks you'll regret it - but that part of you is silent when he calls through for you. 

When you emerge a few moments later, you're casual as you ask him who was on the other end of the line. He says 'a friend,' and then clarifies that it's 'one of the boys' because he doesn't want you to think the worst. It's an answer you accept.

Dropping the towel, you're unbothered by his eyes as you spend a few moments naked. You're just reaching for his shirt, but the way you move, how your muscles flex above your bones, but the soft flesh of your curves moves without your control has him feeling all kinds of fucked up. He's never wanted anyone more; never known that it was possible to feel such a way. 

He tells himself it's just hormones. He's fucking empty, entirely spent on you. That's gotta be the reason. Some kind of primal desire type thing. 

Even he's shocked when he begins to talk.

"You can't ever leave."

It's barely a whisper, his voice small, though the weight of his words is so incredibly large. 

"Need you here forever."

It's the way that Jungkook talks in such certain terms that has the chime in your stomach ringing again. 

You're sure he must have broken a thousand hearts with words like that. You wonder if there are still girls across the city pining after him, thinking about the way his breath feels on their skin as he fucks himself into them. Wonder if the fondness in his eyes is because of you, or because he's just riding a post-climax endorphin high.

"You don't mean that," you tell him, because you don't believe he does.

He shakes his head. Senses the challenge in your voice, and smiles. "You think I'm lying?"

"Think you haven't reached post-nut clarity, yet."

"You'll have to fuck me again, then. Third time lucky."

The third time comes in the morning. 

It's still dark outside, Jungkook waking you with dainty kisses along your shoulders, his hands pawing at your tits.

"Morning," he husks into your neck when your hand goes to join his on your chest. "Dreamt about you."

"You are so full of shit," you laugh.

Truth be told, he didn't really sleep. Looked at you for far too long. It's borderline creepy, he thinks, how utterly obsessed he is. Part of him doesn't understand it, but the rest of him does. 

You're forbidden. 

He can't help but want you. 

Jungkook may be Adam, but you're no Eve. You're that damn snake. Or maybe you're the fruit. He doesn't know at this point; just knows that he's eaten it, and he's pretty sure it's poisonous.

"Am not," he grins, riding that poison high. "What did you dream about?"

He's repulsed he's even asking such a thing.

"Can't remember," you pout, turning to face him. Dreams always elude you. It's frustrating, but at least you're not having nightmares. "What about you? What were we doing? Where did we go?"

Just like him, the fact you're asking him questions like that has you wanting to die.

"Busan."

It's not a lie this time. He isn't looking at you, though, so you half think it is. 

He's just focused on the hand of his that's toying with your hair, pushing strands away from your face. The only reason he isn't looking at you is because he's embarrassed. 

"Busan?" You ask, reminded of his proposition from the night before.

"Mhmm," he nods, his hair no doubt tangling against the pillow. "You 'n' me."

Again, you don't know if it's a lie, but oh what a beautiful one it would be.

"We were on the beach," he continues. "Not really doing much. Just sort of existing."  

You laugh, eyes fond but away from his. You're looking at his hair now, too, playing with it. Mirroring his actions. Reciprocating. "Existing?"

"Existing," he says, refusing to clarify. You're distracted when you notice the way his smile brightens. No longer contemplative, he's got a dimple that only comes out when he's beaming all big and bashfully. "I like existing with you."

And so exist you do, in his bed for the next hour and a half. There's no talk of any substance and yet you're chattering for the entire time. He barely even kisses you. Just wants to hear you talk. Wants to hear your perspective on the world, and all the assumptions you make about it.

Jungkook's duvet is shitty quality. The heat it traps is minimal, but you'd take a morning beneath his sheets in the height of winter over being back at your place any day. 

It's thoughts like these that make your feet itchy. Makes you wanna run. Bolt. Head for the hills and never look back - but you're locked in place by his arm over your torso. Faint light pours in through the clouded glass of his window panes, curtains apparently too much of a luxury despite the holes in the wall where a rail once sat, and you study the dark ink marking his skin. 

There's a story to be told from reading his arms, but you haven't figured that out yet. No google search of his name could ever match the lore embedded in his skin. The tips of your glossy red nails trace the lines in awe, wondering how many people have had this luxury before you.

You wonder who sat by his side during the tattoo appointments, and who laughed with fondness as he winced in pain. Whose hand did he hold? Whose suggestions did he listen to for placements? It plagues your mind like a disease, turning the rubies in your veins to emeralds. 

Who are you, you think to yourself. And why am I feeling like this?

It's only a matter of a time - a few languid movements and a couple affirmations later - until he's fucking himself into you again. Predictable, really. Money would be wasted on a fortune teller, and yet you want to go and see one anyway just to confirm whether or not you get to keep him forever. 

Lazy and slow, the sex is just an accompaniment to the way he's kissing you. His cock is thick and deep as it fills you, but his hips are sluggish and tepid.

It's almost laughable that the sex is an afterthought. 

By its basic definition Jungkook is fucking you - but he's fucked you enough times for you to know how likes to conduct his lays. Quick, fast, to the point. Finish line in his sights.

This doesn't feel like that. 

It doesn't feel like that at all.

Even the way his kisses you as his cock stiffens and pulses, unloading itself into you isn't familiar. It's short, his stamina not back up to his usual performance, but it's so deep you think it might be fatal. Any chance you had of getting your heart out of this alive? Yeah. Good luck.

He groans into your mouth, tells you how good you feel, and presses his lips so tightly shut that it's almost as if he's scared he'll never kiss you again.

It's interesting, the way that Jungkook doesn't make you cum. Sure, the sex is good. You've enjoyed it all - but you're currently on 3-0. You chalk it up to a lack of realisation. Innocent inconsideration. 

See, his words may betray him, but he's trying to be better. Trying not to drag you further into the web of lies he's woven around the pair of you. Issue is, you've mistaken it for silk. You're comfortable. Enjoy where you are.

He thinks it doesn't count; thinks that if he's the only one who finishes, then you won't be falling for him in the way that he hears girls do. Jimin had ribbed him for it after he'd fucked Naejeon; told him that the reason she was so into him was to do with the oxytocin cocktail that had flooded her bloodstream. It's not like it was news to Jungkook. He'd always known it was a thing, he'd just never really seen the impact of it quite so severely.

The way he see's it, the less you cum, the less you care. It's flawed logic, and it leaves him feeling guilty, which is why he blurts out dumb shit about wanting you around forever. Might be true, might not be. Maybe he's the one confusing hormones for heartfelt honesty. 

But as you watch him tear himself away from the bed and head towards the shower, you realise that none of it matters. 

You've been hearing bells since the moment you met him.

They're so loud they drown out the bullshit.

"You coming, C?" He calls through, as the shower begins to splutter into action in the next room over. He appears in the doorway, a tattooed hand cupping his balls and covering his modesty. His eyes are soft, grin lopsided as the sun rises. 

It's beyond your choice as you move towards the sound of his voice, like he's some kind of pied piper.

You know he's taken over you. 

Yet still, you follow the sound of the pipe.

And whether you like it or not, you know you'll let him drag you to the river, just for him to watch you drown.

────────────

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #boxer!jungkook #mafia!jungkook #throttle #byholly #jungkook fluff #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n

[writingdevil]

The Lonely Cottage in the Woods

(Hi!This is my first time writing a fic in a certain fandom,and it's also my first unique post on my blog,despite being on this site for ages.This fic is inspired by a piece of boatem art by @wasyago )

*

Somewhere,deeps within the forests of the land of Hermitcraft,a small cottage stood.Tall,quiet and proud.

The cottage served as a shop for travelers,people either needing supplies for their journey,or advice on where to go next.The cottage never had a shortage of visitors in Hermitcraft,what with all the creative and determined minds that dwelled the land.

But the cottage also served as an Inn,and was proudly stated on the sign that was nailed to the front of the house for all to see-'Scar's Spectacular Shop and Inn!'

The problem though,was that nobody ever wanted to stay the night at the cottage.They would always buy the supplies and take the information that they needed,and then leave.Leaving the owner of the cottage with a heavy heart and an even heavier silence.

The man who resided in the cottage was a cheery,happy man,who lived in an incredibly silent house.He was always willing to help people on their journeys,whether it be to help them clean their wounds,or point them in the right direction.But they never stayed.They just got what they wanted and left the lonely man,in the cottage that was beginning to feel too big for him.

The man's name was Scar Goodtimes,and he's lived in his travelers shop for years now.But as the years passed,Scar wished more and more,that some people would linger at the cottage,for just a day or two.Even though Scar was quick to get over it, some sad thoughts would worm its way to the forefront of his mind.

Like how the table looked too big with just one plate of food.

Like how the house looked too clean for his liking,no clutter to be found.

Like how there was a lack of life in the house.

Bur Scar understood.Really,he did.A lot of people wouldn't be quick to trust a lone man in a forest and stay the night.Stranger danger and all that.But then he'd hear other things when people thought he couldn't hear their whispers.

Yes,true to his name,fading scars littered across his body,not an inch to be spared.There was even a large and obvious scar that slashed across the middle of his face,which he knew people ogled at,but he didn't mind.

What he did mind,were the rumours about how he got the scars.A lot of things he overhead was that he used to be a bloodthirsty arsonist,or a shady criminal who used to run an empire,and they just got more outlandish from there.

Truthfully though,Scar just got into a lot of accidents.

(Though,sometimes,he'll hear those rumors and look down at his arms,and a quiet voice in his head will wish they weren't so visible)

But it's fine.He doesn't mind being in a cottage most of his life.He's got Jellie,his precious cat,and he knows that one day,he'll get used to seeing people not sticking around,and his heart won't twist in pain so much.

*

Knock knock!

The first peculiar man that he meets in a while,was named Impulse.He was large,buff,and had two horns protruding out of his head,with a long tail swishing back and forth behind him,and a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hi!Are you the innkeeper here?"

"Why yes I am!My name is Scar Goodtimes,what can I do for you,good sir?"The man rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he said "Well,I was wandering around, looking for new clients in the area for builds,but I didn't notice the time,and then i saw the sign that this place was an inn,and I'd really like to avoid the mobs,if that's okay."The implied question hung in the air between them,and Scar had to physically stop himself from trying to jump out of his wheelchair.

Someone was asking to stay at his makeshift Inn!Also,the man seemed no casual about it,not a hint of suspicion or distrust in hid voice whatsoever.This completely normal offer meant so much more than Impulse would ever know.So,with an excited grin,Scar happily said "Make yourself at home!"

Which Impulse certainly did.He was respectful of his house and of Jellie,most importantly.He got settled in,and during dinner,they talked about Impulse's plans and what his goals were after today.

Impulse was quite a hard-working demon,always looking for the next farm or building to create,for others to use.He has recently just finished working on a massive factory,that had been given to a town to use itself.He was just wandering around now,waiting for the next client to build for.

Scar was very impressed with Impulse's driven nature,but when he asked a certain question,the relaxed smile fell off his face and confusion replaced it instead.

Scar had simply asked "Have you ever built something for yourself?"

That question-hit different to Impulse.His tail flicked back and forth in agitation the longer he couldn't answer,but the silence pretty much answered for him.No.He's never build anything purely for his own benefit.

Scar was quick to brighten the mood and patted his shoulder comfortingly as he said "Hey,it's okay if you haven't.Besides,you have all the time in the world to build whatever your heart desires.Just make sure I can see it when it's done."He said that last part jokingly,not expecting it to have such a weight on Impulse's heart.

Impulse didn't leave the next day.Instead,he walked up to him that morning,fiddling with his tail nervously,the complete opposite of the cheerful man he was yesterday and asked "Is it okay if I stay here for a few more days?I...might have to make a change of plans for myself."

He didn't elaborate,but he didn't need to as Scar immediately blurted out "Yes!Of course!"feeling joy return to his heart.So just like that,the cottage in the forest wasn't lonely anymore.

Impulse was a very nice addition to Scar's life.He would talk with Scar all day long and play with Jellie,and help around the house without complaints.He sometimes even brought a fresh perspective on some of Scar's own projects,making some redstone suggestions.Hewould check up on Scar if he was feeling down (a first for him) and make sure that he was happy and laughing all day.It was such a welcome change,and it may still just be two people in a big cottage,but Scar was just happy to hear another voice through the walls from time to time.

Scar didn't comprehend the hole that Impulse had started to fill in his heart,until he saw blueprints and papers scattered about on the table one day,and at the top of the paper,was titled-Personal Build! Then he knew that he had done something right.

*

"Um,Scar?There's someone sleeping on the front porch."

The second odd person that Scar met,didn't even come to the cottage on purpose.

Scar rushed to the door and yanked it open,only to find a young woman,sure enough,sleeping outside the cottage,her back against the doorframe.Her head kept dropping forehead as she slept,a curtain of brown hair blocking her face.

She didn't look injured in any way,but that didn't mean she wasn't in danger.Scar bit his lip,unsure of how to go about this,but then he heard Impulse walk up behind him and softly called out "Hey,ma'am?Ma'am,are you okay?"

Thankfully,that was enough to wake her as she groaned,rubbing her eyes lazily,sitting up properly,and Scar had to force himself to be patient before launching into questions.

The woman got her bearings together pretty quickly though,yawning as she looked them both in the eye.But when she did,Scar's mouth dropped slightly in awe.Both her eyes had a background of a dark void,almost like a night sky,and within them,a twinkling star in the center of her right eye,and a crescent moon in her left.

"Good morning,gentlemen."were the first things she said,her voice holding nothing but chipper positivity,as if this was a normal occurrence."It's actually almost midnight."Impulse nervously corrected,probably not equipped for a situation like this,but Scar definitely was,used to being friendly with all types of people,and this lady was no different.

"Well,nonetheless,hello to you too.My name is Scar and this is my friend Impulse."The woman smiled brightly,sticking her hand out "It's nice to meet you both too.You can call me Pearl."Scar gladly shook her hand,and was surprised to find her hands just as calloused as his own."I hope you don't mind me asking but are you-okay?You're not hurt are you?Or in any sort of danger?"

Pearl shook her head,the bell on her sleeping hat jingling loudly in the night.She crossed her legs,still sitting on the porch,and replied "Oh,no,I am perfectly fine and safe,you don't have to worry about me."but then Impulse asked in worry and confusion "But then why were you sleeping on the porch?"

At his question,Pearl's shoulders slumped and her smile shrunk,but still appeared happy as she explained "Well,I was simply living my life,far across the land from here,building farms and being self-sufficient,but then a few days ago,I kinda started to feel-bored.There was nothing new to do and I didn't really have friends to talk to,and in those moments, I tend to just look up at the night sky."then she did exactly that,and Scar copied her, watching as the stars glistened in the sky.

There was now a fondness in Pearl's voice as she continued "I always had a bad habit of letting the moon and the stars drift me away,but this time,I felt like I was being pulled towards something,so I let myself be taken away by the night,and I guess I ended up here."Pearl then shrugged,done with her story and seemingly content with her current position.

It was certainly a story,but Scar felt like she was telling the truth,if her constant beaming smile at the moon was anything to go by.He turned to look behind him,and saw Impulse giving her a small smile back,with a glint of something familiar in his eyes.One shared look between them and they were on the same page.

"Well then Pearl,this cottage also acts as an Inn,so wouldn't you rather gaze at the night sky from inside a warm house,with nice food and fluffy blankets to accompany you?"Pearl glanced down at her lap as she muttered "That does sound nice."There was a minute of silence as Pearl contemplated the offer,and Scar was beginning to worry that she'd say no,but what was she going to do then?Keep walking aimlessly while staring at the moon,with no sense of direction whatsoever?Scar wasn't so sure why he was getting so stressed over a stranger.A part of him said that it was because he was still lonely,but that was ridiculous,he had Impulse now,so his loneliness should be fixed,right?

Maybe he was still lonely,or maybe it was something deeper,something that came from his core,like how Pearl said that the moon was guiding her towards something.Either way,Scar really hoped she would stay.

Pearl hadn't answered yet,and she now had a look of frustration on as she seemed to be arguing with herself,until Impulse spoke up and said "Pearl,we can assure you that there won't be a dull moment while you're in this cottage."

Then she was sold.

Pearl added a new layer of comfort in Scar's life that he didn't know he needed.She added her own spark of life and colour within the house,and she fit right in with the two of them.

She volunteered to help improve the inside of the cottage,making it appear more lively and appealing, making its previous arrangement look bland in comparison,and Scar didn't even realise how dim it looked.

Pearl still gazed at the moon every night,walking outside and simply staring up at the sky. Sometimes,Impulse and Scar joined her. Sometimes,Scar worried that Pearl would feel another tug and would drift away from them.

But she always came back into the house,even weeks after her arrival,and if Scar noticed that,over time,she spent less time looking at the stars and more time with them,well,that was for him to cherish.

*

The next bizarre event happened a few weeks after Pearl's arrival.

Throughout the day,there was a weird scratching and stomping sound coming from the roof.Impulse said that he would check it out,after he was finished helping Pearl with the redstone machine for their potato crops.

Knock knock!

"I've got it!"Scar called out to his friends in the backyard as he quickly opened the door,expecting another customer.

What he saw instead,was a very tall man,easily over six feet.He wore a clean black suit,which was unusual for travelers.But what was more unusual was the crimson red parasol he held,shielding his pale face and fancy mustache from the sun.He seemed very anxious,twisting the parasol handle, and then Scar noticed that his fingers were covered in a red powder.

When he answered the door,the man took a quick glance at him and then immediately averted his eyes.Scar had the urge to rub the marks on his arms,thinking that they were grossing the stranger out,but then the man stuttered out "U-Um,hello sir."

"Hello to you too.What can I help you with?Do you need supplies for your travels?"The man shook his head and said "Actually,I needed to ask you a question."Scar tilted his head in confusion,but let the man continue.

The stranger tightened his hold on his parasol, trying to gather up some courage,so Scar shot him a soft smile and the man looked stunned at his patience,and that seemed to make him relax enough to speak.

"Have you-um-been hearing weird noises today?" Scar nodded,becoming more curious as to who this man was.Was he an exterminator or something kind of hunter?Surely not,with the attire he had on,nor did he act like he even wanted to be having this interaction.

At his nod,the man sighed harshly,and Scar caught a flash of fangs in his mouth.A vampire,huh?Well that would certainly explain the parasol in broad daylight.

The man began to stammer,his attention much too focused on trying to peer inside his house rather than making a coherent sentence.His eyes were flickering to every corner that wasn't Scar,and when Scar opened his mouth to finally get to the bottom of this,there was suddenly a voice in his left ear yelling "BOO!"

Scar shouted in fright,jumping in his wheelchair as a new voice cackled in his ear.The other man standing before him lost all his nerves as he scolded the new figure "I knew you'd be around here,Grian!Why did you fly off without me?"

Scar panted in shock,a hand on his chest,and looked to the left,finding a man hanging upside down from the porch roof,a wide and cheeky grin on his face.He then dropped,then swooped back up into the air,bright red wings shimmering in the sun. He flew around in the air for a few seconds,circling his friend's head as he replied "Because,Mumbo Jumbo,you slept in and I was bored of waiting for you to wake up."

"I slept in because I was up all night fixing the redstone machine that you broke!"

"Well you shouldn't have left those levers and buttons all over the place!You know I'm weak to them!"

As the tall man,now known as Mumbo Jumbo, sighed tiredly,the new avian friend lowered himself and used his friend's arm as a perch, glancing at Scar curiously.

Oh,these two were trouble,and Scar liked trouble.

The guy that spooked him,Grian,was studying him closely,and Scar was beginning to feel like some sort of prey.He had messy,sandy blonde hair and brown,beady eyes that seemed to stare into his soul.He wore a thick,red jumper,almost matching the colour of his wings,and when Scar looked into his eyes,all he saw was mischief and chaos.

"Listen,I'm really sorry about giving you a fright there.I was just sitting on your roof,messing with Mumbo,and then I heard you talking and just wanted to mess with you a little bit."Grian explained,and Scar obviously forgave him,not that he was angry in the first place.He knew that he was just in the middle of two friends playful banter.

Scar waved him off "No need to apologise,just made my poor heart skip several beats and made my life flash before my eyes."the three men chuckled lightly,then fell into a comfortable silence, which was weird considering that they've only talked for a few minutes.

But then Impulse's voice called out from the back of the house "Hey Scar!Can you lend a hand with this redstone machine?"

"Redstone?"Grian said,eyes drawn to the voices of Pearl and Impulse deep in the house.He suddenly flapped his wings,almost hitting Mumbo's parasol in the process,who grumbled in annoyance and leaned away as Grian floated in the air.

"Mumbo's great at redstone,let him try!"then just straight up flew into the house without a second glance at Mumbo.Scar chuckled as he heard Grian's cheerful voice mixed in with Pearl and Impulse's surprised ones,but Mumbo's harsh sigh brought concern out.

He seemed more relaxed now,from knowing where his friend was,but still seemed stressed as he said "I'm really sorry about him,mate.He kinda just does what he wants,and trouble tends to follow him, along with me I guess.I completely understand if you want us to leave you alone.After all-"Mumbo let a bitter,low laugh out and Scar saw that his eyes were filled with muted anger and pain as he muttered "-not many people take too kindly to our antics."

Scar had already made up his mind the second Grian startled him,but now his heart was set and longed to see what these antics were.So Scar smiled and made way for Mumbo to come in and said "Make yourself at home."

Boy,did they make themselves at home.

Mumbo and Grian were like the last pieces of the puzzle that needed to fit into Scar's empty heart. Mumbo's creative spin on redstone helped the cottage out tremendously,and even when it sometimes didn't work,nobody scolded him,which Mumbo always expected.Mumbo was just as much of a trickster as Grian,poking fun at one another whenever possible,but tended to keep quieter about his hijinks,but slowly,he got louder.

Grian was a hurricane of trouble himself,and Scar,Impulse and Pearl ended up contributing to that chaos more often than not.The avian always had a prank up his sleeve,and everyone always ended up laughing by the end of it.

Grian also loved building things,with beautiful and detailed designs,but he never got around to finishing the back of,for some reason.

He would swoop and glide around in the sky,with grace and with expert precision,as he performed so many different tricks and turns in the air,as if he had been confined to the ground his whole life. Sometimes,Grian would simply perch somewhere and watch as the sun went down,wings relaxed but looking unkempt from a day of flying.

When Scar offered to help preen his feathers and tidy them up (He's seen Mumbo do it countless times) he was surprised when a flash of fear shot through the avian's eyes for a split second,and Scar understood how big of a deal it was when Grian still held his wing out for him without a word.

Impulse.A sweet workaholic.

Pearl.A cheerful night lover.

Mumbo.An anxious genius.

Grian.A pesky prankster.

This was what Scar was missing.A family.

So when one day,months later,if Grian casually brought up needing to get a bigger house to fit all five of them,well,nobody needed to see Scar cry tears of joy,at the fact that his friends were now his home,and not the once lonely cottage that stood in the middle of the woods.

#hermitcraft #mumbo jumbo #grian #pearlescentmoon #impulsesv #goodtimeswithscar #boatem #my writing

[billyjoecobra]

JOSEPH JOESTAR CHARACTER ANALYSIS (1)

I never see anyone talk or analyze Joseph very often in the fandom, which is tragic because i believe he's very complex!! So here's some thoughts to chew on, rattle around in your head a bit. It's all under the cut, and it is LONG AS HELL because i have a LOT to say on him!!! Warning though, it's not super properly punctuated as these are discord rambles of mine, but -- enjoy nonetheless!!

i think it's super interesting to note how every time someone puts joseph down, or does something shitty to him, he just doesn't care. not a single bit. he even says it's fine, maybe even deserved sometimes. he assumes people always thinks the worst of him, and yet doesn't really care aside from the one time he dressed in drag and got insulted about it. even then he was just kind of, "man. i looked hot though.." however every time someone even remotely upsets his friends or hurts those who don't deserve it or his family he goes. ABSOLUTELY APESHIT. he will get SO fighty.

he will immediately throw hands and hurt you physically without thinking about it he likes to put assholes in their place sometimes (i.e. the taxi driver, the nazis who insulted him. and any nazi really ) but that is different than really caring about what they say to him. i think he has a very strong moral code, though people tend to see him as quite dubious because of his loud and obnoxious behavior every consequence to his actions, he only worries what others close to him will think and he can easily be driven to a blind rage revenge if you dare to hurt his family in any way. because you DONT fuck with his family. family is the no. 1 thing he cares about

beating up racist cops? he only feels bad because he doesn't want to stress out erina with the thought of bailing him out. told speedwagon is dead? he's upset, but he keeps his cool and throws a punch at the guy for upsetting erina, and worries more about her comfort than his own. guys hijacking a plane and holding him hostage? he couldnt care less if he was the hostage, he only cared enough to stop it because it might risk getting speedwagon hurt. and it goes on

and for the sake of his family he keeps purposefully trying to risk himself to death repeatedly. when fighting kars lets not forget when he shot kars into space and his thoughts were about how he was ok with dying if it meant his family was safe i think . and i said this before this is just me getting my thoughts out way more eloquently with points i've already touched on before. but.

in a non emo way, it's really hit me how he isn't like. beat up about it. about assuming ppl always think the worst of him. he cares way more about others than himself type of guy thats like similar to "they're friendly but after awhile of their support and talking to them you realize to your horror you dont actually know anything about them at all" other than he's like. bold and brash and likes to start fights sometimes oh and lest we forget he also tends to take the death of loved ones so hard to the point that no matter the circumstances true causes he always blames himself.

he always blames himself and gets a bit. ummmmm i wouldn't say suicidal but like way too risky with his life and stops really caring if he'll die. he's just so used to nobody ever understanding him and his "off kilter" tbh neurodivergent way of thinking and living that he. like. he doesn't exactly have great self image beyond thinking he has sexy lips which sounds so silly but it's true and again it's not something he dwells on it's just kind of, A Fact to him. and this isn't even touching on the slew of issues i'm sure speedwagon's constant comparing of him to his dead grandfather must have caused.

It's very evident to me that he has ALWAYS felt like a burden to some degree i think. even when erina and speed havent really treated him as such. This is why I think his dynamic with speedwagon would be pretty strained / already seems as such -- bc. As I said before, he's ALWAYS comparing him to jonathan, even when he was just a kid.

NOW BY ALL MEANS!! I DO NOT THINK speedwagon means any ill will. it's just something that he just keeps.. doing because. well he respected jonathan so much, and it kind of clouds how he sees joseph because -- well, joseph is the SPITTING IMAGE of him. But not intending harm does not mean he hasn't caused any by doing that -- comparison can WRECK you pretty bad. joseph has made it clear that he knows he's nothing like jonathan in any regards except looks and i think it kind of contributes to his overall. tanked self image. and also the fact that he's a reminder of the tragedy of losing his parents ( or so they thought for a while. yk )

he deeply cares for him still, this much is true. he always will. but, it doesn't negate the serious comparison issue, constantly being told "WOW you have an attitude not at ALL like your grandpa, he would have never done x!! how do you look like him while being such an angry kid!!"

..... said without real malice or really bad intention, more out of exasperation. but. those kinds of things stick with kids. yknow? Joseph's always bottled up his emotions and tried to be on his best behavior for erina's sake. hes always a little more open with speedwagon. but .............. BWGHGURUGURGGH!!!!!!! i could go on for hours about it ok. but i shall move on to my next point now.

what sucks about it though is that the fandom tends to gloss over these bit of characterization at every turn. there is a lot of sadness and concerning things surrounding joseph that he just simply SHRUGS OFF about that it's kinda concerning! not that he'd ever really see a problem with it.

the fact that he was prepared to die / did the bet if only to distract them long enough to let caesar and speedwagon get away... you COULD maybe read it as a little bit of self preservation but given how he handles literally all other instances of him possibly dying., and the circumstances of him leading whammuu away being to SAVE those two. I think it yet again falls in line with "who gaf if i die i care if THEY die". then he gets stressed about the time he has left. which i imagine would stress ANYONE honestly. but . part of me thinks that it's also because this means that he has a short time to make sure he can be strong enough to protect everyone he loves and cares for..

that isn't ALL there is, of course. but i feel like with his behavior that is probably a big reason of it. You can summarize it all with one sentence; essentially,

joseph isn't afraid of death, nor dying himself; he's afraid of his loved ones dying.

This fact is extremely present in everything he does and says, but especially so when Caesar's death hits. THAT, however, i will make it's own post on. I have a lot to say on that and how it fucked him up for life. For now, though, I will move on and touch on another topic.

for all the loud opinions joseph seems to also speak none of it is ever really looked into much deeper as anything more than " he's just being joseph again" and he never really elaborates on it either, hence why a lot of people don't know much about him. While he is schrodinger's himbo -- too stupid to be smart, too smart to be stupid -- it's clearly all an act to get people to lower their expectations of him. He doesn't like being taken as a joke though. that he is a hater of for sure so. Joseph hides his true self behind a mask of idiocy and lackadaisical attitude to the point where it's blended into his actual truest self and he can hardly tell what's real and what's the mask. But at the same time, Joseph gets very angry when nobody takes him seriously because of his facade and trying to make everyone lower their expectations of him so he can pull the rug out from under them.

He's so mad when people don't take him serious but then continues to act pretty unserious and it's like. Well if you want them to take you more seriously bro you should stop doing that. Stop lowering others expectations so you can kick their asses or have a general upper hand just in case ( but he won't 💖)

he is a bit of a polarizing character but i hate when fandom reduces him to just "funny goofster" or ""cheater"", or writes him off as annoying with no depth to him. To judge Joseph through a lense of solely good or solely bad is a terrible idea; that man is gray moraled as HELL, he has a strong sense of self justice while also being incredibly underhanded and sneaky. If you dislike him, that's fine -- but don't discount his complexity just cause of that!!! He's not puddle deep, there's a lot of facets to how truly fucked up he is.

yeah. he is goofy, and he's a cheater at many things. but there's a lot to him. HE'S COMPLEX!!!!

#joseph joestar #🐍 txt #i have. a lot of feelings about him ok? #also part of this is old ass posts from my discord but i think tumblr should see it too

[jvnluvr]

torn lies ; itoshi sae ♡

author’s note: i came up with a something on a whim today after my lovely follower @uvbnr21-killer requested so i'm sorry it took a bit. nobody saw the first post, i forgot to add tags so i deleted it and now am rewriting it. kaiser angst would hurt my soul, but sae fits this perfectly. i'm so nervous & scared because i never write angst so i hope this is okay.

itoshi sae couldn't, wouldn't and will never understand you. maybe that's why he keeps coming back into your life.

itoshi sae x f!reader

notes: foul language, implied toxic relationship, reader has anxiety and hand tremors, sae acts like he's innocent when he's not, ft. isagi and rin

"i understand. now say it with me, we're gonna be okay.”

that was the last lie itoshi sae could say to you.

how long had it been? with how busy your life had become, itoshi sae was just a distant thought in the back of your mind. a man you wished you had never met, never wanted, or never had been with. how could a man, even like him, be so heartless? you knew him, you knew that wasn't him, but that doesn't mean he was going to change.

as much as you could have dwelled upon it, cried about it, have gotten angry about it, and all these other complex emotions humans could feel, there was simply no point. itoshi sae has been long gone, and life had made other plans. you became a professional athlete, just like itoshi-. wait, you just said you would stop thinking about him.

see, that was the entire problem. taking the same career path of the man who was once yours just made you think about him more. your mind was tainted with the thought of sae. you couldn't keep living like this, life was already miserable as is. you couldn't go out in public without having to hide away like you were an embarrassment. nobody knew, but they knew. they knew from the way you would rarely come out in public anymore, the way cameras caught your hands tremoring trying to talk to interviewers.

…

"can't you just leave me the fuck alone?”

"i’m your girlfriend for fuck's sake! you can talk to me for 5 minutes a day if you're really that busy."

"yeah? 'know what, you aren't worth those 5 extra fucking minutes.

…

what came after that was more yelling, then it came to tears, and finally, you left what you had once called home, what you had once called your forever. you slammed an awakening in itoshi sae's face before you left, for good.

"[name]! tell us how you feel about the upcoming match." an interviewer asked, shoving the mic close to your lips. "i think it'll be good." you let out a very monotoned voice, signaling that your anxiety was starting to get worse again. "ah, please share some more thoughts with-"

"oh look! it's itoshi sae!! why is he here?" your eyes widened as you followed the voice, and it came from all across the area. " think she'll leave with us, thanks for your time." a smooth, yet deep voice replied near your ear before you were dragged away. you already knew who it was, so you looked back once last time, seeing the interviewer run off in the voice's direction.

"everyone is obsessed with him, it makes me sick." you sighed out, your breathing starting to get shallower. “thanks for dragging me out of there.” the man let you go, letting you sink to the ground and hug your knees. "stupid media people, forget them. how are you feeling?” isagi yoichi asked, crouching down to meet your pained eyes.

"'Il be fine, jus' hope this fuckin' tremors stop before i have to go on." your hands were burning. not because of the tremors, nor was it because of isagi. because every single thing you did reminded you of itoshi sae. you were more than just frustrated because of this, so you couldn't help but try and rip your hair out as your eyes watered.

"fuckin' asshole, how could he say that even 5 minutes for me was a waste of his time," you mumbled, not wanting to lose your composure in such a public place. "sae-san will never change, [name]. you deserve a lot better anyway. c'mon, the other guys are waiting for you." he held your hands as he helped you get up, but it was all mindless movement in your eyes. walking into the stadium, across the bleachers, everything felt blank.

itoshi sae is the worst.

how could he do such a thing?

was that really the sae you fell in love with?

no, he'll come back, right?

he didn't mean it.

whatever, fuck him anways.

an inner monologue with yourself that always bought you to shreds. what point was there in constantly being in a stage of denial when the evidence was right in your hollow eyes? you so desperately wished for your feelings to change, for your heart to not crave, desire, to want to love itoshi sae. but he always walked away. away from his friends, his family, from you.

"[name?] is it sae again?' itoshi rin snapped you out of your trance again. you blinked widely a couple times, before your tired eyes met rin's. '''t wouldn't usually be this bad, stupid fuckin' guy decided to waltz into here today." you grumbled to him, in which he sighed.

"sorry, [name.] even i don't know why he keeps coming back. it's best if you just ignore him though. sae doesn't actually care, we've seen."

yeah, itoshi sae doesn't care about you.

…

then why his is gaze so warm?

you're on the field, staring into the crowds of people when you see him. you could only manage a second of eye contact, but immediately you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

…

"don't do that."

"do what, [name]?"

"don't look at me like you still care.”

…

"good game out there today, [name]."

"you don't mean it. why are you back?" you could feel the tremors coming back, despite your best efforts to control them.

"tch, i'm not allowed to tell someone 'good job?"'

"should you fuckin' be allowed to break someone's heart? no! but ya did it anyway. now get out of my sight, stupid egoist." it's vicious, but it's also been long overdue.

[name], it's been so long, why are you still hung up-"

"you're an asshole who ruined my life, all because you're a narcissist, self-centered and close-minded. you want me to spell out more?"

for once, your voice stood against him.

his eyes widened, an unmistakable look in his eyes saying that he didn't expect that, not out of you.

and for the first time, you walked away from itoshi sae.

#itoshi sae #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #blue lock angst

[spotlightlowlife]

A step not forward but to the side.

First off, this family time tale is a nice idea.

Shorts is a good idea too. Filling in gaps without having to commit to a story, but that's also the issue and has been for a long while.

Though it's nice to have the sisters enjoy a day together, we gloss over what little we were offered in the first place.

Millie

The Millie episode in season one had the family be tough farm folk who were open about their disappointment at Millie's choice of partner and lifestyle, which truly didn't have to take away from Millie but it did because that was all their entire yet breif content and throughout these scenes, as is now usual, Millie had zero to say on the matter. It was up to Moxxie to find an excuse to finally stand up to the parents after making all the effort, though the impression of bridges burning thankfully wasn't there, Millie still had nothing to contribute.

Fast forward to this short and Millie has nothing to say on any matter. Moxxie not getting a mention doesn't make it more of a Millie story when Millie yet again has no argument for her frowned upon choices even when they're bought to her attention...

Why couldn't she defend her job?

Why couldn't she defend her choice to move?

Also for us...

Why didn't we learn why Millie moved to the city and why this particular place?

Did she leave home abruptly and why?

Did she always give the impression of wanting to be elsewhere?

When did Millie discover she loved spar days, shopping and clubs and why don't we know these things?

Dispite her lack of anything to say, I was impressed by Millie not feeling guilty about leaving the farm, but again this could be yet another example of nothing to say (if only at atleast one of the 'also for us' questions had been addressed)?

Sally

BS on Sally running that place alone, this is yet another example of pushing blame onto someone else to make a character seem nicer and more innocent, this show has a history of doing this, Stolas is sad because of Stella and (somehow) to a lesser extent Paimon being one example but there's one better. What we saw was a close knit family who were united in their bafflement at Millie's choices yet happy to see her, Sally was the only one who's judgment come across as fairly harmless teasing in the two lines she got, but now their parents are useless, the brothers are of little help, nobody else was around and Sally is sad because of this. It's reminiscent of Ozzie and Fizz exuding confidence, a love for lust and enjoyment at grudges (was the Fizzbot programmed to pick on Blitzø), the same two who happily mocked Millie, Moxxie and Blitzø, now push the blame for their unhappiness and work choices onto Mammon just as we meet him.

We really could have dwelled more on how much they miss one another and how much they have in common.

Sally coming across as a fish out of water didn't work neither, she dressed similar to Millie in the first place and again after the out of place dress scene that didn't even fit this series (maybe Hazbin), she never come across as rough and unglamorous.

Lastly Moxxie

Moxxie silently slipping past them unnoticed, apparently happy that his wife is happy to me isn't sweet, it's like he can't be comfortable in his home when Millie has her known to be hostile towards him for no good reason family over, that even so much as a greeting before leaving them alone ruins things. Had Millie and Sally been asleep this would have been exactly what was intended, sweet.

Has anything improved?

A side step this was.

#helluva boss critical #helluva boss millie #helluva boss sallie may #helluva boss critique

[yuikomorii]

Who do you think are the most mentally strong diaboys?

// I'd like to make a top three, even if I believe number one is already obvious:

3. Kino

Being forgotten by your true "father" and abandoned in Rottenberg is a very sad scenario. Kino was also bullied because of his race, since the ghouls did not treat someone like him well. However, after releasing his powers, they began to respect him, so Kino became their leader, and unlike other characters, he also got Yuri, his friend, by his side. Kino is a mentally strong person, but he still struggles with it, especially given his resentment of the Sakamaki brothers for obtaining Karl's "love," even though they did nothing to him. He also gaslights others for "having it better," and dwells on his past to the point of obsession. It feels as if he doesn’t live for himself anymore, but merely for recognition.

2. Kou

Losing your wealth, ending up in a manhole, then in an orphanage where you were assaulted and exploited because you were a pretty child... As horrifying as it may sound, Kou has a very realistic past because the events that happened to him actually occurred in Romania during that time period. Honestly, despite his background, I'm surprised he's generally such a cheerful person. He would have been first on the list, but Kou never moved on from his experiences. He, like Kino, held a grudge against the Sakamakis for having "a better life" than him, despite the fact that he was unaware of their past. Anyway, he was in MB at the time, and based on DF and LE, he's doing much better now and is a sunshine boy, so he deserves this spot.

1. Ayato

I guess it's always been obvious that Ayato is mentally the healthiest Diaboy. His past is almost on the level of Haruka from Moshikami, which says a lot because it's so messed up that I wouldn't have been surprised if he lost all hope, but he didn't, which is really admirable.

Ayato never complained about what he went through, never gaslighted others for having it better, never engaged in a harmful coping mechanism and never projected on others. Yes, he has insecurities; he is afraid of not being loved or not being the best, but he is not dependent on these. He could still live peacefully without achieving them. Furthermore, he doesn't need a person to "fix" or help him deal with his struggles; he simply wants someone to appreciate and believe in him.

He's a carefree person who surprisingly prefers to look on the bright side and holds no resentment toward those who have wronged him as long as he knows their reasons and that everything turned out well. His ability to forgive people so easily is both a strength and a weakness because some people do such horrible things to you that they no longer deserve your forgiveness.

I like Kino but he literally burned you alive, beat you up, stole Yui, and wanted to sell you to the church to be slaughtered, but in the end, you gave him a second chance and were the first to integrate him and recognize him as a Sakamaki?? And normally, I wouldn't mind this since I give a bunch of second chances too but the thing is, nobody is willing to forgive AYATO if things go wrong, and that's painful because it's so unfair. ://

I might have realized why Karlheinz thinks Ayato is more special than anyone else, and this quote from his DF Ecstasy epilogue perfectly explains it:

Karlheinz (describing Ayato): Valuing your life, grieving, lamenting your misfortune, suffering…

And resisting!

That’s what Adam is all about!!

Basically, what makes Ayato the official Adam is the fact that unlike other demons, who are ignorant to death, he still has a desire to live and fights for it. No matter how much pain he has endured, nothing can break him.

One of the reasons his LE route was so reviled in the Japanese and English fandoms is that nothing hurts more than seeing an energetic and strong-willed character who appeared that way in seven games suddenly lose all hope and drown in misery.

I have written a too much about Ayato, but he deserves it. He’s not the smartest or most calculated guy, but he is unquestionably the most mentally strong one, and I doubt any other Diaboy would have ended up as approachable as Ayato if he had been in his position.

#ayato sakamaki #kou mukami #kino #kino sakamaki #diabolik lovers #dialovers #admin #(wanted to add Laito but Uhh… he’s not doing too well) #(I feel bad for writing so much about Ayato yet that’s not made up but canon content) #(Also the anon sent this ask mostly due to the Ayato story on ig so I suppose they wanted me to explain this better)

[ppocchidagooberbrother]

1.9K words | •

A/N: I took my time making this so enjoy :3

This is a fic for self indulgence purposes so yeah but read if u want! (⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠)

Edward imagines. He imagines a lot.

Sometimes he imagines his soft caresses across his skin, puffs of warm air escaping Sebs own mouth to his trembling skin.

Sweet and wanting, patient and kind. He fell in love with the daydreams.

He fell in love with him- even more that is. It had been a long time since those feelings had settled inside of his stomach, bubbling and shy- most familiar with his schoolboy blush painting his cheeks a rosy color.

He gazes with want, a need seeping into his pores, his rough skin- dry parts oversaturated with the utter hunger.

It's unnatural, most would say, but it comes so easily to him. He doesn't even have to tell himself to breathe, to keep going. To put a mask on.

Why is he so good to him?

A smile is all it takes and his skin lights with a new kind of fire, the ones told in the Bible that makes the people swell with contempt, to look down and see a swine ready to roast. But if he's the swine, nobody would touch him. No one would consume him like Seb.

Edward likes his lips. Soft, and sometimes pouting. They have crumbs after he eats, and he wipes them away so carelessly, without thinking.

Edward thinks, how lucky those bits are. To be clinging onto the holy land. The crevices and dips. He wishes he could wash himself in every bit of him, the human need to consume to keep moving forward. To breathe, but to him, it's a need and a want.

He's needed to do things all his life. He's had to keep his face rigid, keep his head down. Edward brushes his teeth in the morning and at night. The patience he finds barely dwelling in the soles of his shoes, the ones that snugly wrap around his form. He finds those things actually do want him somewhere, even if it's for a parasitic hole to fill.

If it wasn't for the warm nights Seb and him spent in each other's beds, the shushed giggling and whispers to each other, eyes glazing over with joy only found in that of a child- would he still be here today?

Edward finds solace in that- those small moments. So small and almost insignificant but it stirs something in his chest, where his heart would be. Is it so wrong of him, a creature like him, to feel cared for in the loop of those memories?

Edward back then, with his hand in Sebastians. It feels soft, inexperienced. Innocent.

If Edward shifts his hand, he can feel the ever so slight scars Sebastian has on his knuckles from mundane accidents, small things that happen to a body. There's always something out there.

It isn't that he grew without a single smile, it's that it wasn't directed at him. For all the grades he could achieve, for all the complex chemicals he could stain his hands with, burn- it wouldn't ever make up for the lack of presence.

When he turned his shoulder, who could he turn to? Who could he ramble to about what his puzzles meant in his head, what fascinations he read in his books?

Sebastian. He listened. When they met, a foreign face on the playground as a warden pushed him along, his legs awkward and lanky, trying to learn about the new land forced upon him.

And when a sweet smile came, towards him, how could he not just cry?

Days spent together, then months. Then years. It piles onto the other like children's play toys, a castle built out of straw. Edward wants to keep building it, but he doesn't know how. Which piece fits what hole, goes in what direction, or if he should even put the piece down. Would it collapse the whole thing? Could he handle having to rebuild it all over again?

Indulgence is something he can find in his waking world. He can, he could. Will he? Does he?

Of course not. If he goes too fast, building and building, what if it all just tumbles down?

What if he- what if that-

There's an everlasting ache in between his ribs, in the shallow parts of his sternum and into his nerves, running along his heart and encompassing the wet flesh, that he can't bear to look at. Edward, if he looks at it for too long, will his castle break down or just simply disappear?

Edward tries to fix it. He tries to reach out but there's a barrier, cold, yellow, sticky and uncomfortable. A meaty texture against his own fingertips, asking to swallow his flame, whatever is left of the running wax along the candle, to take it all.

He can sludge his hand through it, the material stretching and stretching, but never fully accommodating, never freeing him.

It's suffocating to be so far away from Sebastian, he's just on the other side of the wall. He can see him, a muddied view of him. It contorts and smiles, and frowns. It's never fully clean from Edwards side.

Space. Space as it is taken up by someone like Edward, then by someone like Sebastian. How do these two people interact with each other? Others?

Can they smile, laugh, lay their hand on someone else's? Does their breath feel warm or sickly? Do goosebumps run along their skin like delicate spider legs webbing a home?

What is Edwards home?

Simply- Sebastian.

It isn't as if Edward doesn't realize this need, the want. But he ignores it, lets it grow and fester like mold until it needs more sustenance. Until it needs something- someone- to dedicate itself to. To worm its way inside so deeply the host would tear its very own self in two if it tried to save itself.

He searches for help elsewhere instead, turns his back to Sebastian and locks himself behind doors to keep whatever feeble image he can keep in his mind for just the idea- of continuous friendship.

Edward knows, he knows he isn't doing it all right, but he doesn't know if he's doing it so bad as to suspect anything. All his eyes can seem to see past is his rims into the screen he types into, fingers nimble and rushed- without a holster.

He has questions, so many. They crawl at the crevices, slip into new crooks and nooks, hide themselves for a week then return tenfold with a new sentiment. Thoughts that evolve as he does too, cutting snippets of his hair shorter. Although, jaggedly done. He runs his hands around the tips, the frayed ends and the reserved supple skin he has under his jaw. How it spreads across his face in smooth terrain here and there, making him look soft. Filtered.

Edward can feel it, the venomous need to take, take, take. Not just in general, but from Sebastian directly. If he places his hand over his chest, tugging open the button up he always shrugs on in the mornings, buttons frayed and popping out with the force, Edward would see the gaping misshapen infant that lies dormant in him. The child, from age 6 to 11. From 13 to 19. Numbers, he's good at that. Really good at that.

But he can't. He doesn't look at it. But it screams, all the time. It can't breathe, it can't breathe. It can't breathe.

But hardly can he.

He forces it, shallow breaths, then deep ones. It makes his chest expand, the infant swallowing it whole, hardly leaving any for him. Edward is too generous, too righteous to it. If only he'd drown it, like he did to those rats so long ago.

But he can find air. In Sebastian, when he can't avoid another call or another inviting text. When the heavy feeling in his compressed lungs gives in and his hands, clammy with virtuous sweat, peck his lips as it drips down his nose and forehead.

So eager.

‘Yes please. Let's do that. When can we meet up?’

‘Friday? Can't we do Wednesday? Aren't you free then-’

Oh, he shouldn't know that. Backspace. Do over.

Please don't think he's weird. Please don't think he's odd. Or too much, maybe it's cute. Endearing. What does Sebastian think?

The slope of his back hurts, itches and aches and makes him lean his neck back, sighing and scratching away at his chest. The humid feeling in between his legs is uncomfortable, rigid, noticeable.

Edward doesn't hold himself back when he's invisible. He always is, but here- in here- he's not so alone. Not as he scrounges his latest pics and huffs hot gapes of air above him, imagining it's Sebastian soft, smooth lips across his neck and running his tongue along his own. Together, living and breathing as one.

Edward feels his hand in his, his skin smelling of summer- as if he was a peach growing on a tree- inviting. Asking to be eaten.

Sebastians image, his locks curling across his face and falling over his shoulders and scrunching up as the strands got shorter. His smile stretched like the apple slices he used to feed Edward, by hand as he leaned his shoulder onto his and he held back a burning expression of innocence. Shying in regards to touch but ever wanting more of it.

If Edwards hands tremble down across his back he feels the bark of life, green and forest and full of human acceptance. He imagines he'd never let go.

It's then ravenous, hungry and devoid of care for creation, because for Edward, destruction is creation if it's made from devotion.

When his walls litter with pictures of Sebastian, isn't that devotion?

When his cameras fill up, with angles he should only be privy to if Edward was as close as he makes himself to be, isn't that devotion?

And isn't it devotion to see the nude self, of the one he dedicated himself to most?

Isn't devotion part of love?

Edwards' flame rises, with a need to extinguish others. The infant that lives inside of him, fueling a cycle that scorches him from the inside out. He lives in anger, bathes in it, eats from the marrow that grows it. Anger is what is devoted to him.

Angry that Sebastian holds the perfection in him that he can't hold, he can't possess to take inside of his own soul. Why can't he touch a tender feeling like joy?

And it feels like spring, leaves curling and petals spreading towards the sun. Sebastian is the sun, he smells of it. He breathes air into Edwards lungs, like a beaten dog on its last legs.

But Edward must have more, he deserves it. He has to, for all that he is done. There's always more, Sebastian can give. An ever flowing fountain of kindness Edward can't satiate himself with, murmurs of forgiveness for odd accidents and brushes of his skin, prolonged stares responded with reassuring awkward laughs.

He's Edwards. In not just possession, but in being. What he does, it's his. They are one, no? Isn't what love is, no?

No?

It's a foreign word, days spent ogling too much to the point of a raised brow.

It doesn't ring into his chest, much less his mind. In his ever-aching infant's heart. Tender in the way it wails but never understands. Perhaps it never will.

#edward nashton #my own writing #long post #the riddler 2022 #the riddler #the batman 2022 #the batman #dano riddler #self indulgent

[a-friend-of-mara]

Hey uh

I'm leaving my mask at the door for a minute

If you enjoy the image of myself I put forward, the happy cheery autistic trans girl who doesn't dwell on her issues

Please just ignore this post

If you are uncomfortable with mentions of self harm, talking about non prescription drug addiction, suicide rates of trans kids

Please just go

Look

I say my biggest fear is that I'll be forgotten

It's easier than saying that I'm scared to death of myself

I'm worried I'll give up on life and stop eating... considering I can't gain or maintain weight I'd have a week before I was dead at the most

I'm afraid that I'll give up trying to look like the person I want to be rather than being stuck, trapped in a body that isn't mine but I'm wired up to like some sick torture method

I don't want to fall into drug use or self harm hoping that it'd pull me out of this pit of self hatred and hopelessness

I don't wanna be another tally mark on the trans suicide charts

I don't wanna die

I feel like I'm suffocating

That I can't move my legs... only the ones attached to me

I don't even know if I matter at this point

I just

I wanna be me

Not some false image that I was born with

Nobody understands how it is for me

My dad almost killed me with th fact he understood so little he put me into survival mode where I cared about nothing but staying alive because of how much damage his insistence that my body was in fact his son and not the cage that trapped his daughter

He used to have twins now he just has one kid with her twin sister... my sister

Now I live with my mom who doesn't understand, how could she? She's never wanted to tear her skin off because it wasn't hers... she understands how much I hurt though

She's able to see through my mask that I'm really suffering inside

Without her yall wouldn't have ever known I existed

You would've heard a news article of a trans kid who killed herself by diving off the balcony at her school although the media would misgender me.

I've almost done it

Sitting on the edge of a lethal drop fighting with myself to not do it

Not sure if I was lying when i told myself things would get better

I'm not sure if they are

Everything just keeps getting worse and worse

I can't even cry anymore

I don't care about so many things that I used to

I used to love

Then I was heartbroken

I used to care for my friends

Until I moved away

I used to enjoy helping others

Now I'm so tired I can't

Just

Fuck

It's kinda funny

How part of me thinks it's all my fault

How I'm not sure if it's something I did

But then I have to think

What could I possibly have done that'd make this torment justified?

How can any higher power exist when I've prayed to every God and Goddess I've ever learned of and not once has a goddam thing happened

How would a higher power let the world get this fucked up

Fuckin hell

My trans siblings are getting murdered for being themselves

Innocent people who live in unfortunate places are being killed because of stupid ass reasons

Fucking hell in America most people aren't free enough to take a month off work without becoming homeless

Decades of prejudice make people think women are weak and need defending but don't pay them well because... fuckin I don't know why!

It's pathetic that men get away with rape while women get away with false rape accusations usually destroying every relationship the man ever cared about

People look at others and treat them differently based on the color of their skin

YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN STUPID THAT IS?!

ITS DUMBER THAN PICKING ON SOMEONE WHO WORE A BLUE SHIRT PURELY BECAUSE OF THE SHIRT

What for?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?!

The privilege to go through 12 to 20 years of school to earn the right to have to work a job I'll probably hate until I'm like 60?!

Right now I'm pretty sure my life is gonna end before I reach 30!

What's the fuckin point?!

America for fucks sake

The land of the free

Yeah free to work or die because the 0.01% run the fucking nation like their playground

People wonder why I've responded to hostility with hostility in the last 3 years

Simple

I've bottled my emotions for so long the bottles are all full

Yelling and ranting always make me feel a little better

If anyone comments on this negatively I hope you die in a vat of boiling vinegar and drown in the yolks of rotten eggs

That goes for all the phobic people too

If you made it through this whole essay sized emotional breakdown and don't think I'm a complaining winey bitch

I can only say I wish the world was made of more people like you

Alright

Time for sleep

#tw: depression #tw depressing stuff #tw self destructive behavior #trans #trans woman #me #depressing shit #trans struggles

[warrior-cats-rewritten]

re: your dotc rewrite, the details are much better than the original. if you take recommendations, maybe emphasize before gray wings death that he avoids or rejects assitamce from shadowclan? that or when he was kicked out, nobody knew he had asthma? its more a “depends on how you read it” thing, but him being kicked out to die of his asthma just feels a little too cruel for the much kinder characters of your dotc rewrite, even when he is a horrible asshole, yknow? especially with ableism being a huge part of the original arc (clear sky kicking out disabled cats to die all the time).

love your rewrites so far, especially interested that instead of “fixing” some of the chaarcters you just role with the way they were accidentally written horrible and give them consequences. keep up the good work! ☺️

This is a longer post but has a lot of detail.

Yes! I should probably clear that up! His asthma, when he was kicked from Windclan, was not bad. Like at all. Only like.... 2 cats actually knew, Pebble Heart and Hawk Swoop, who was nosy, and is now dead. He himself downplayed it and insisted he was fine, just a tickle, bit of prey scratched my throat, guess I can't run so fast anymore, I'm getting old/out of shape/my legs are just sore. His demise was his own making. If he'd just acknowledged he had any problem at all, he would still be alive. (Well, not nowadays, you know what I mean)

Excuses. Just like canon. At least you can say he never let it get him down. But medical problems don't go away just because you ignore them.

He gets worse after he is kicked out. And he is kicked out for saying something fucking HORRIFIC to Wind Runner about her dead baby. They put up with his Clear Sky bootlicking, but he tried to drive out Bumble before, and now this? No. Go find another group. Sorry, but you clearly won't change after driving Turtle Tail, Jagged Peak, Bumble, Tall Shadow, and Thunder Storm away.

After this, the story isn't from his point of view. Thunder Storm sees him again coming up to their camp, that tickle in his throat getting worse and tighter. Thunder Storm, bless his heart, wants to help, but he can't forget how Gray Wing treated Bumble. He offers a deal. Apologize, and you can stay.

"What?! No! She should be sorry to ME for stealing Turtle Tail! We aren't kittypets, and that's that!"

Thunder Storm is about to offer some help (remember Cloud Spots is not here yet) but Gray Wing snaps at him. His uncle won't change...

Clear Sky is a bust. Sky Petal still doesn't like him, and although this is after The First Battle, when Gray Wing coughs, Clear Sky (IN CHARACTER) says no. We have sick cats here, and my Sky Petal is pregnant. No. But... Clear Sky says he is sorry, and that's enough for Gray Wing to go "yeah, I get it. That's okay. My brother is so caring about his new mate" (nevermind that he said 'my' Sky Petal)

He stays with River Ripple's camp, getting jumpscared by a little gray molly, but Frosty Paws is kind, offering him some herbs before she slinks back into the shadows, making Gray Wing wonder if she is a spirit cat. He tells Dappled Pelt about it and she gets very excited.

Frosty Paws gave him catmint.

He is kept in River Ripple's camp for a while (River Ripple POV!) until River Ripple is forced to intervene with the One Eye problem. Clear Sky and One Eye are leading attacks on others.

River Ripple tries to be understanding when Gray Wing insists that Clear Sky is good deep down, just afraid... But he looks at the quickly whitening tom, and says

"Fear doesn't justify murder. Fear doesn't make a cat do this."

When Gray Wing lashes out, he tears River Ripple's ear, Night and Storm Bird tell him to leave. All he does is complain about the taste of their beloved, sacred fish, and how unfair it is that Turtle Tail left him for that fat housecat. Funny though, the ripped spot has to be severed, and it looks like it changed the course of his ear completely, like a river that changed how it flows. Well, no use dwelling on it, let's go chill on Sunningrocks, after all, only we can swim to it. :)

He isn't seen for a while because he doesn't get pretty much any more POV time. But Path Of Stars happens.

He gets weak, collapsing on a big root in the marsh, and found by Tall Shadow, who drags him back to camp. Hell has broken lose, with Star Flower trying to pick off the Proto-Clan Cats one by one. She tells him to wait in camp, Thunder called a meeting between the 5 leaders and she needs to make sure River Ripple attends.

There, he sees Pebble Heart examining Bumble, looking a little bigger, next to Turtle Tail, who looks so excited she is shifting from paw to paw. Bumble is expecting another small litter for them. Pebble Heart comes over to him, and offers him treatment, but he stomps over to Turtle Tail and tries to pick a fight with her. How dare she leave to Moor, and leave him when he helped raise her kits and-!

She slaps him. Claws sheathed. She never got this catharsis with her first abusive mate, but she'll do it with her second one. She tells him that she doesn't love him anymore, that Bumble has helped her when her night terrors get bad, Bumble was there when Owl Eyes got a bad cold and she worried herself sick. Bumble was the one who helped her sneak out, and prevented twolegs from stealing her kits. Bumble never tried to punish her for being her own cat.

He stays quiet, before he stalks out of camp, Pebble Heart tries to reach out to him, but Gray Wing just hisses at him to get away, go with your real parents then... But all Pebble Heart wanted was to treat a cat in need. He had found many herbs he wanted to try.

His asthma attack hits when he reaches the Five Oak Trees that lead to each territory.

He lays the curse down on the other Clans, not finding it in himself to fully curse Shadowclan, not looking their way when his gaze sweeps the different territories. He dies at Clear Sky's Oak. The fifth tree. His outstretched claws reaching to Riverclan, the last cats who rejected him.

He has a place in the Dark Forest, but his hate and anger bind him to the earth. He is known by the Clans as Gray Wing the Cruel, Enabler of Tyrants, Layer of Curses.

And He is Waiting for His Starless Clans.

#warrior cats #warrior cats rewrite #wcr #warriors #dawn of the clans #gray wing #turtle tail #bumble wc #pebble heart #river ripple #tall shadow #clear sky #petal wc #sky petal #thunder wc #thunder storm #wind runner #riverstar #skystar #shadowstar #windstar #thunderstar #(those leader tags are in order for a reason)

[romajuliettemai]

The Archer-Rosalind Lang Lyrical Breakdown & Lyrical Relationship

Combat, I'm ready for combat I say I don't want that, but what if I do?

To me, this shows Rosalind always constantly prepping herself for some sort of battle, whether it's a physical battle or something mental that she has to fight. She's always kind of on her toes now and scared to do anything at all after the incident, since she doesn't want to accidentally screw up again. This is also kind of like her preparing herself to almost sort of fight Orion in FHH.

'Cause cruelty wins in the movies I've got a hundred thrown-out speeches I almost said to you

Rosalind is a character who's relatively cold in a sense- it's just her nature. She's not a very warm person, she likes to be sarcastic, and we love it. But obviously a lot of it unfortunately comes from her constantly guarding her heart and being on high alert all the time, too scared to show kindness to too many people in case they take advantage of her again.

She had so many things she wanted to say to Orion, which were a lot of her just calling him dumb and such, but we know she wanted to say things after he confessed his love too. She just never got the chance.

Easy they come, easy they go I jump from the train, I ride off alone

It seems that almost everyone she loves comes and goes like it's nobody's problem. She is always left alone. Dimitri left. Juliette left. Dao Feng left. Now Orion is gone. So many people lie to her as well. As soon as she trusts them, they reveal themselves as some great actor. Which is kind of going to happen again when Juliette reveals herself, since a good number of people besides Rosalind knew.

I connect the train part to the train scene that opens FLF. She literally climbs to the top of the train. But she's alone there as well, alone to bear witness to the unforgiving night.

I never grow up, it's getting so old Help me hold onto you

She's permenantly stuck at 19. She doesn't age. But it's just getting old. She's stuck in a stage of her life where everything went wrong, and it's just an awful reminder.

Again, reinstating, that so many people she loves leave her.

I've been the archer I've been the prey Who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

She's been the hunter (assassin) and she's been the hunted (victim) in many different scenarios.

She's wondering why so many people seem to want to leave her. No one wants to stay with her anymore. They all just leave.

Dark side, I search for your dark side But what if I'm alright, right, right, right here? And I cut off my nose just to spite my face Then I hate my reflection for years and years

Rosalind is scouring for the bad in people often, because she's scared of getting hurt again. She's looking for something that will turn her away from them. Something that will give them away for being some sort of evil mastermind so she has a reason to walk away before it's too late.

We know she doesn't like to see herself much anymore, since she's stuck in her 19 year old self, trapped in time, and unable to escape all of her mistakes. She is simply self-destructive, and does not like herself one bit.

I wake in the night, I pace like a ghost The room is on fire, invisible smoke And all of my heroes die all alone Help me hold onto you

She doesn't sleep anymore- always awake, dwelling on how she could have changed the past. What she could have done differently. And the memories haunt her. Memories of an explosion- smoke and fire.

To her, her very on cousin exists now in a memory of ash and smoke. Juliette is long passed to her still, since she doesn't know the truth. Juliette was kind of a hero to her as well- even though she didn't 'die' alone. But Rosalind wants someone to be able to hold onto when she goes as well. She doesn't want to lose anyone anymore.

But it's too late. Orion is gone for now.

Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay?

This kind of reflects her frustration with wondeirng why everyone always wants to leave and never wants to just stay in her life.

(I see right through me, I see right through me)

'Cause they see right through me They see right through me They see right through Can you see right through me? They see right through They see right through me I see right through me I see right through me

But so many people can see through her facade if they look close enough. She pretends she is okay, when she really is not.

This also reminds me of the scene with when Orion is seeing the similarities between her and Celia after he found out who she truly was.

This is also a reflection of her constant anxiety and worry about so many things. She's constantly on her toes, constantly anxious, constantly scared. It's trauma.

All the king's horses, all the king's men Couldn't put me together again 'Cause all of my enemies started out friends Help me hold onto you

She's like a broken vase. It's difficult to put her together again. She's broken to what she thinks is beyond repair.

So many people she thought as friends or loved ones ended up being enemies in a sense. Like Dimitri, who was only using her. Celia, who isn't her enemy, but is in a different political faction, the one to which her faction is fighting. Now like Orion, who was taken by her side and is now being used as an experiment.

Who could stay? Who could stay? Who could stay? You could stay You could stay

She just wants someone to stay with her. To be with her. To not leave her again.

Combat, I'm ready for combat

This is almost a full circle moment if we're going by the order of the story with the order of the lyrics. Because at the beginning she was ready to fight and protect her heart, and at the end, when Orion was taken from her, she's now ready to fight again. It's kind of like a restart to the cycle.

I also generally associate these lyrics with scenes in FLF, but I just didn't feel like stating them cause that would take too much time and make for a way too long post.

(I think I've been working on this post for around half an hour and I desperately need sleep so enjoy this lyrical breakdown!)

#chloe gong #these violent delights #our violent ends #foul lady fortune #foul heart huntsman #secret shanghai #last violent call #secret shanghai finale #secret shanghai series #rosalind lang #the archer #taylor swift #lyrical breakdown #lyrical breakdown analysis + relation to rosalind lang