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cillianhead · 6 months

Text

A New Pair of Glasses || Cillian Murphy x Reader

Part One! Part Two!

summary: When Y/N watches the Batman trilogy for the first time with her friends... she returns home to Cillian with a newfound sense of longing for a certain Dr. Jonathan Crane.

warnings: SMUT, DUBCON!, CNC themes!!!, unprotected P in V, oral sex (f and m receiving), analplay, FAKE DRUG USE! (Cillian gives reader a sugar pill and says it's a sedative (all consensual; reader is aware of the fact it's not a real sedative.)) minor alcohol use / drunk, age gap (reader is college age while Cillian is in his mid-to-late 40s), swearing, daddy kink, sir/doctor kink, breeding kink, praise kink, degradation, vulgar language, sort of a sugar daddy + sugar baby dynamic, slapping, roleplay, dacryphilia, edging, overstimulation, squirting, sex toys (dildo and vibrator), use of electric shocks for sexual pleasure (Cillian uses some sort of mild toy that zaps you), use of restraints, fake cheating scenario, sort of vague allusions that Cillian is gonna push her off a balcony but I'd like to stress the words VAGUE ALLUSIONS!! adult content ahead!!

LONG FIC ?!?!

(I wrote this while listening to Eat Your Young by Hozier :-))

18+ Minors DNI

"This your man?" Your friend Gabriel snickered as you all sat around eating popcorn and other various junk foods.

"Yeah... yeah..." You roll your eyes playfully before popping a few popcorn kernels into your mouth. You felt horribly flustered and hot despite the cold weather outside.

"Genuinely can't believe you've never seen these movies before," Your friend Mia, Sasha's girlfriend, remarks from the couch. The film was paused on a particular scene of Dr. Jonathan Crane with a gavel in hand. "Especially since your boyfriend is in it..." She said teasingly. "I can't believe he's your boyfriend!"

You just giggled and shyly smiled. You had binge-watched all the movies, and now you were on the last one. You couldn't express the emotions you were feeling right now. A deep carnal sensation was lighting you on fire within as they continued the scene. Though he was only in it for a short amount of time, you found yourself zoning out and fantasizing about Jonathan Crane and what it would be like to fuck him.

The movie ended, and by now, it was nearing midnight. You hadn't planned on staying the night at Sasha's, so you stood back up and collected your things. A driver was picking you up in about ten minutes, so you sat around with your three best friends and talked about your plans for the rest of the weekend and all that.

"What's your boyfriend up to?" Gabriel asked with a knowing smile on their face.

"Oh, he's gone to the pub to watch the footy with a couple of his buddies," You beamed. You couldn't explain it, but the idea of Cillian out and having fun with a couple of pints of Guinness in some little pub, having a blast, and laughing with his mates was unbelievably cute. It made you feel all blushy and dumb, the kind of dumb a schoolgirl would get at seeing her favorite charming teacher. "Not sure if he's home yet, and I haven't really wanted to bother him tonight. It's his first time seeing his friends in a while... since he and I are basically together all the time." You giggled, fiddling with the hem of your shorts.

"This is your first time seeing us in forever too!" Sasha squeeled with that laugh of hers, throwing a cushion at you.

"Ow, hey!" You pouted as you pretended to soothe your arm.

"You know it's true," Sasha sassed. "You two are joined at the hip... but we're not mad, we just miss you... but we're so happy for you and your sugar daddy- *cough* sorry, boyfriend." Sasha joked, and you all burst out laughing.

"He's not my sugar daddy..." You bit your lip, stifling the laughs ready to erupt from you. "I mean, like... he is... like that's how it first started, but he's more than that now..." You bit your tongue and rubbed your heel on the ground with a reclusive and cheeky smile. "I think I'm gonna marry him..." You grinned.

"Oh! You are not... we haven't even fucking met him!" Gabriel snapped, cackling. "Why can't we meet him?" "Oh, come on, I want you guys to meet him, and he wants to meet you... I'm just nervous..." You mused.

"What? Do you think he's gonna hate us?" Sasha asked while sipping her margarita that she bragged about being able to make herself.

"No... it's just..." You hesitated, looking down at your lap. "You guys are very different types of people. I think it's likely to clash in a strange and complicated way." Gabriel nodded their head understandingly. "Like you guys are gonna meet! But I just don't know exactly how... he's a very lowkey guy and likes quiet settings, whereas you guys... wanna go do something fun and exciting and a bit loud... and that's fine! I love both of those things... and Cillian's all weird and cute and awkward when he meets new people, especially in loud places..."

"Oh hush, we get it... we'll meet when the time is right," Sasha smiled. "As long as we meet before the wedding though, like-"

"Oh shit, my driver's here, I gotta go. He's been waiting for two minutes already..." You hurriedly got up and gave Gabriel and Sasha big hugs.

"Who are you with your private drivers?!" Sasha giggled before leaning on Gabriel with loving smirks.

"Bye!" You yelled before quickly rushing out the door with both your shopping bags from the day of shopping you had with your two mates.

You had met up for brunch, which turned into "a quick trip to the mall" to try on about fifteen different pairs of clothes in six other clothing stores. After that, you returned to Sasha and her girlfriend's place and hung out with the three of them for a while. Sasha's girlfriend was a massive nerd with posters of Evil Dead, Five Nights at Freddie's, Hatsune Miku, and many other fun, dorky things. It was when someone brought up Batman that Sasha's girlfriend, Mia, would begin to lose her mind. You both chatted about it, and she told you all about the different Batman villains and then subsequently mentioned The Scarecrow.

"That's Y/N's boyfriend!" Gabriel said as they took off their makeup in the mirror.

Sasha and Gabriel then had to explain to Mia that you were dating the actor who played the scarecrow in the Christopher Nolan Batman films. It was funny seeing Mia's reaction, and you talked a bit more until you mentioned that you hadn't seen them, and then they all decided on a movie night.

And now you sat in the back seat of a black car, leaning your head against the window. You were excited to see Cillian again. You had missed him all day. The streets were busy, full of people coming out of pubs. Everyone was watching the footy today, so it made sense that it was more crowded than usual. As you slowly pushed through traffic, you closed your eyes and fell asleep to the sound of the busy streets and passing cars.

A few hours had passed and everything was quiet now.

"Y/N, honey, you're home," The driver gently shook you awake. "Time to wake up, sleepyhead." You smiled with your eyes closed at the older man and slowly slipped out of the car with your things.

"Thanks for waking me up, Jim," You said kindly. "Has Cillian already paid you for tonight?" "Yes, with a hefty tip as always," Jim croaked happily as he made his way back to the driver's seat. "You have a good night, Miss. Y/N."

"Thank you, drive safely, please!" You yelled as you unlocked the door to your shared home with Cillian. All the lights were off so you figured Cillian hadn't made it home yet.

You sighed and set down all your bags once you entered your bedroom. You got changed into one of Cillian's shirts and a pair of comfy sleep shorts and slipped your headphones on. You stood out on the balcony with a slight smile on your moonlit face. A cup of chamomile was cradled in your hands as you listened to soft music and waited for your beloved boyfriend to get home.

You couldn't stop thinking about him, though. Jonathan Crane had ravaged your mind. Just the thought of him made you squeeze a little. How he looked and acted, it was like every cell in your body was lit on fire with desire for the fictional character. Of course, the main reason you found him so sexy was because it was Cillian. But that was well over a decade ago now, and Cillian had aged beautifully since then. The thought of an older 'dilfier' version of Crane made you weak in the knees.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar arm snaking its way around your waist and a loving kiss placed on your shoulder.

"Hey, darling," Cillian whispered as you pulled your headphones off. He held you in his arms and swayed you slowly. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, and you grinned, knowing he was probably a bit buzzed. "Missed you while I was out." "Mmm, yeah?" You hum, setting your tea down on the small glass table beside you before wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying with him softly. "How much?"

"So much," He slurred, pushing his face into your neck and groaning at your sweet smell. "Fuckin' thought about you all night long, even when me' team won." "Your team won?!" You exclaimed gleefully. "That's great, Cillian!" "Yeah, yeah," He shook his head with a blush on his face. "They won by a landslide." He was so cute when he blushed. "Oh, my lovely boy," You praised sweetly and leaned in, kissing him deeply. Cillian moaned into the kiss as his hands slid down to rest on your ass., giving it a loving squeeze. "I've been waitin' for you, Daddy." You whispered with a string of spit tying your lips together.

He snarled a bit at the nickname. "Oh yeah, baby?" He huffed with a one-sided grin. A smug look on his face as the dynamic immediately changed, and he pressed your back against the wooden railing with a sadistic smirk. "What you've been waitin' for?" He whispered gravelly in your ear, his hips pressed into yours to make you feel his hard dick through his trousers.

"I..." You trembled, mouth helplessly falling open with shyness.

"Was it my cock?" He hummed, fingers sliding up from your arm to grip your quivering jaw heavily. He slapped you across the face, but not enough to bruise, just to leave a constant sting. You whined, and another slap was given. "Tell me... baby... I know you can feel how fuckin' hard I am right now, so tell me all about how you're cunt is drippin' f'me." He grunted, letting go of your jaw and lining his hips up with yours with his palms roughly grappling at your ass to pull your barely-clothed pussy right against his fucking hard cock.

"Daddy..." You whispered breathlessly and helplessly. The way he was pushing you back against the balcony caused you to lean over the edge ever so slightly. It was frightening. You knew Jonathan- *I mean* Cillian would never push you off the balcony. But the thrill was enticing as he looked at you hungrily.

"Don't be coy with me now, little girl," Cillian smiled a toothy and mischievous grin. "I remember all the times you've had the mouth of a pornstar, spewing dirty t'ings for yer daddy," He pressed his nose into your neck, cupping the back of your head as he leaned you against the balcony.

"Please fuck me...." You gasped, grinding yourself on his erection. He groaned and grabbed you harder, this time away from the balcony and back inside. You were gripping his shirt feverishly, trying not to fall over. He pushed you down onto the bed with a grunt and kicked his socks and shoes off before undoing his belt and ripping off his top layers. "Oh, daddy..." You whispered, spreading your legs open as you pulled your shorts down and your thong with it. Cillian leaned down, grabbed your black thong, and raised it to his nose and mouth, smelling it like a feral dog.

"Fuckin' hell," He exhaled before dropping to his knees before you, at eye level with your wet pussy. "I'm so hungry..." He nipped your inner thighs, slowly lowering closer to your heat.

"Please... eat me... Daddy, oh my god," You mewled as you raised your pussy to his drooling mouth and tongue. "Fuck, oh!" You exclaimed as you arched your back, digging your fingers into his hair and pressing his face into your cunt. He ate you up like a cornucopia of fruit and slurped you up with his tongue.

"S'good," Cillian groaned, muffled by your cunt in his mouth. Your arousal and his spit dribbling down his pretty chin, his eyes looking desperately up at you, as you rest back on your arms and cry with euphoria.

"Oh... Cill.... oh... daddy..." You moaned, hair spread across your face and mouth. You were too lost in the pleasure. Slowly rutting your pussy into his face, head lolling from side to side with the dizziness of your impending orgasm. "Gonna cum... baby... gonna cum..."

"Give it t'me," Cillian grunted, eyes fluttering shut as he focused his tongue particularly on your throbbing clit; occasionally slipping it down to lap at your soaking cunt. His nose was pressed into your mound, hardly breathing, too focused on the sweet euphoria of eating your pussy. In his usually busy and complicated mind, his brain had now gone radio silent, and it was exactly like he was high. You were a drug to him. You came undone, gushing into his awaiting mouth.

Your eyes rolled back into your brain, loud mewls as you fell back onto your shoulders and gripped at the sheets. You were near to tears with how good he ate you out. As he lapped up your sweet cum, you writhed, squeezing your thighs around his head and fingers tugging painfully hard on the roots of his hair.

"Okay, Cillian..." You exasperated, panting heavily. "That's enough." He pulled away like a slobbering dog, cum and saliva making a string of spit on his chin and your sopping cunt.

"Fuck me, baby..." He whispered, pupils blown wide like he had taken ecstasy. "You taste so good..." He hummed as he crawled up to you and kissed you hard, tasting yourself on his stroking tongue. His cock was out by now, painfully hard and ready to be stuck in your cunt. "Please let me fuck you now..." He said breathily against your lips. "Please..."

"Daddy... please... need you inside me," You bit your lip as the tip of his cock nudged your clit. "Don't tease me..."

"Course not, darlin'," He mumbled deeply, right by your ear as he slung one of your legs over his shoulder and the other around his waist. "Why would I tease my darling girl?" He pressed himself fully into you, making you go cross-eyed.

"Ooohh..." You mewled softly. The air had been knocked out of your lungs. It felt like you would explode in the most beautiful way possible. His cock was snug against your cervix, every ridge of him pressing against your hot and wet walls. You shut your eyes, shaking as he began pulling out of you slowly before jutting back into you.

"Best fuckin' pussy," He growled, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Best one I've had..."

"You're mine," You gasped out, drunk on his cock already. You reached out and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him into a teeth-clashing kiss. "All mine, daddy." You pressed your heel into his lower back as you pulled away from the kiss to look at his face above yours. You looked up at him with your dizzy eyes and lips spilling out drool, desperate to hear him say the words you had on your mind.

"I'm all yours, Y/N," He panted, fucking you roughly and desperately. You went at it like rabbits, desperate to be bred. "I'm yours... forever..." He connected his soft lips to yours and made you fall in love all over again as you made out. He was still a bit drunk, and he usually came a bit quickly when he was but you didn't mind.

"You gonna cum in me?" You moaned, rocking your hips against his. His hands slid up and cradled you by your ribcage as he manhandled you to seamlessly get speared by his cock.

"Y-Yeah, course," He panted, eyes glued to the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of you. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum..." "That's it, Daddy," You moaned, reaching up and pulling on his hair as you kissed him. His cum instantly squirted into you as you squeezed around him and danced your tongue against his. "Fuck, feels so good... fill me up..." You mewled, pressing yourself against him as your orgasm washed over you too.

Cillian was silent, face pressed into the side of your cheek with his mouth agape in quiet moans, his veins popping out of his forehead. "Oh baby girl, oh fuck..." He whispered, all whiny, into your ear. He still pathetically rutted his hips into you, filling you with as much cum as possible.

Drool fell down your chin as you convulsed in his arms. He quickly pulled off of you, not wanting to become overstimulated, and you still lay there, writhing a bit as your orgasm slowly dissipated. Cillian pressed a flush kiss to your warm cheek, laying on his side and wrapping you up in his big arms.

"You did so good for me, baby," Cillian whispered sweetly as you blinked slowly at him. "Such a good girl, knows how to take cock so well," He smiled at you knowingly, brushing your hair with his fingers.

"Cillian..." You hummed with a sleepy smile. "Get me some underwear please... don't want to lose any of your cum..."

Cillian smirked, quickly getting up and rushing to your drawer where you kept all your panties and other lingerie items. He picked out a baby pink pair of panties and brought them over to you, sliding it slowly up your legs and getting a glimpse of your creamy pussy.

"How pretty, a little bow..." He chuckled, fiddling with the white bow at the top of your underwear. Cillian crawled into your shared bed with you. He pulled you into his arms, and you lay there with happy smiles, getting warm from the covers. You lie in comfortable silence for a while, nuzzling your heads together and cherishing the feeling of having your bodies together again. It felt healing. It truly felt like you had found your other half. You knew you had.

"Do you need a glass of water or anything?" Cillian asks with that lovely Irish accent of his.

"No, it's okay, just need you to hold me, Cill... I'm tired," You whispered with a smile, thumb brushing his cheekbone. "I need your arms around me to feel sane..." "Such a poet," Cillian snickered, kissing your forehead and pulling you closer. "What'd you get up to today, sweet t'ing?" He asked, running his fingertips gently up and down your back. It was almost ticklish.

"Well, the brunch was really nice with Sasha and Gabby," You recalled softly, fingers fiddling with the chain around his neck. "Then Sasha wanted to go get something from the mall.... so we went to the mall, and I did some shopping too... while I was there."

"Oooo... shopping? Tell me whatcha got, love." Cillian cooed excitedly, wriggling with anticipation. Cillian had given you a credit card with a pretty high limit, paid by his money. He was pretty much entirely financially supporting you. You felt terrible at first, but you realized quickly that he got off on the idea of you spoiling yourself with his money. So you'd treat yourself to nice things while treating him to very nice things simultaneously. Pretty much every shopping trip, you'd buy something sexy for Cillian to rip off of you. "Did ya get me anythin'?" "Mhm," You whispered, poking his chest knowingly. "Can I see it?" He asked with a raised brow.

"Nope, not until tomorrow..." You smirked, pecking him on the lips. "I want to keep you on your toes."

"Alright, woman, whatever you please... just as long as I see ya in it..." Cillian chuckled, nudging your nose with his. He enjoyed it when you showed off what you bought, especially the clothes. He'd make you do a little fashion show in his living room. "What else did ya do?" "Oh, then we went back to Sasha's place..." You trailed off for a moment, trying to recall everything that happened. "Had a bit of dinner... then we just watched some movies." You smiled while Jonathan Crane's face flashed inside your head.

"What movies did you watch?" He asked curiously, fingers twirling your hair around it. He could see you were quickly becoming flustered but he wasn't quite sure why. "What? What is it? What did you watch?" He laughed.

"We watched... we watched..." You giggled, leaning in and pressing your face into his chest. "The Batman movies..." You snickered, rolling around and laughing wildly. Cillian had a stunned and amused look on his face as he watched you wriggle around and laugh your lungs out.

"The ones I'm in, ya mean?" He asked, chuckling a bit with a red face. He was worried you were laughing at him. "Y-Yes!" You said with a loud laugh. You were laughing because of how fucking sexually attracted you are to him as Jonathan Crane. There was something so sexy about him as this cunning, tricky little Batman villain. "Oh my god..." "I didn't think I did too bad in those films..." He whispered bashfully, looking down at his lap a bit self-consciously. "Did yer friends also think it was silly?" Your laughing quickly dissipated as you realized Cillian had taken your laughing the wrong way. You quickly sat up and scooted closer to him with wide eyes. "No, no, no... I'm not... I'm not laughing at it... Cillian... you were brilliant... they're fuckin' brilliant films... it's just..." You trailed off, biting your lip as you giggled a bit more thinking about Jonathan Crane.

"It's just what?" He asked, still with a disappointed and sad look in his eyes.

"You were so...." You whispered, pressing your face into his chest and laughing into his warm skin. "He's so hot!" You blurted out.

"What?" He laughed, thinking you're talking about Christian Bale.

"Cillian," You sat up, looking him directly into his eyes, and he could tell you were seriously about to say to him how sexually attracted you were to Batman. "You as the scarecrow... as Dr. Jonathan Crane... fuuuuuccckk..." You rolled your eyes back into your head, teeth tightly clenching down on your bottom lip.

"O-Oh!" Cillian smiled, face growing red for many different reasons and eyes lighting up. "You really thought so?"

"Cillian, I want to fuck him so bad," You gasped, pressing your nose into his face.

"It's funny how yer referring to me as him," He laughed, wrapping you up in his arms. You were both more in a sitting position now, looking at each other's grinning faces.

"No, like... obviously... it's you... and that's mainly why I find Jonathan so sexy... but just the way... you played the character... he's so fucking convincing and so attractive... like... I want him."

Cillian raised a brow before kissing you softly. "Well, y'have me..."

"I know, baby... I don't want anyone else but you," You reassured sweetly. "Just think the characters you play... are so handsome... want them all to fuck me..."

Cillian blushed, kissing you again, this time a little longer and sloppier. Eventually, after you two managed to pull off each other, you brushed your teeth side by side, and Cillian watched you wash your face and moisturize. You'd then turn to him and ask to put some on him, and he would hesitantly let you, all while pretending to not enjoy the attention.

Falling asleep was easy in Cillian's arms. Ever since you met him, every night without him was sleepless. There was just nothing quite like having him hold you. You had passed out, unbeknownst to Cillian, reaching his arm out for his phone and quickly ordering some things online and then lying back down with you again to sleep with a smug smirk on his face.

In the late morning, you two woke up around the same time. Cillian woke up only a few minutes before you did. He watched you beautifully sleep.

"Good mornin'," He grumbled with that morning voice of his. "How'd you sleep, sleeping beauty?"

"Oh, hush," You shook your head, covering your face as you rubbed your eyes. "I feel like I look like an ogre," You laughed, sitting up a bit. "I slept amazing... as usual... how about you, my lovely man?" You reached out, stroking along his stubbled jaw.

"Perfectly fine," He nodded, sitting up with you, sheets barely covering his naked manhood. Your hands slipped the sheets from his pelvis to reveal his morning wood. "Mmm... didn't say you could do that..." He smirked, eyes watching as you lowered your face down to kiss his hard cock.

"Love you so much, just wanna make you feel good..." You mumbled as you fit the tip in your mouth. You wrapped your fingers around the base as you sucked on his leaky tip.

"Fuckin' hell," Cillian sighed, throwing his head back as you teased him. And then you fully sank your mouth down on his cock until his thick head was prodding at the back of your throat. "That's it, love... I love you so much... you're so fuckin' good to me."

You hummed around his cock as he lazily lay there and enjoyed the feeling of your mouth on him. You slowly sucked him to the brink of cumming, popping off of him right before the climax.

"Why'd you stop?" He whined, reaching to grab a hold of his cock, but you quickly swatted his hand away. "Hey!"

"You're not allowed to cum," You stated simply, not elaborating any further.

"What? Why?" He laughed incredulously. He kept trying to reach for his erection, but you smacked his hand away every time.

"You're just not," You looked at him stubbornly. "Not until later. I want to show you something really cute and slutty I got for you yesterday... and I want you to be absolutely desperate..." Cillian groaned out of frustration. "Fine, if that's what it takes to make my girl happy," He reached a hand up and stroked your hair affectionately, yet with a sense of irritation.

"And don't even think about trying anything in our shower," You murmured as you both got up and wandered into your shower. "You can't get yourself off."

"So goddamn bossy," Cillian grumbled teasingly as you turned on the hot shower, and both stood underneath it. Cillian was in agony with his throbbing cock. And it didn't help that you stood right against one another. The hot water and your ass pressing against him was nearly enough to make him burst without even doing anything. You knew what you were doing to him.

The shower was long and tiring, and eventually, Cillian's dick softened on its own, but that didn't deny the sexual frustration within him. Cillian made the two of you breakfast, and you ate with a smug smirk on your face.

"Gotta run some errands today, love," Cillian hummed while chewing his scrambled eggs. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh, can I come with?" You asked with your head perked up.

"Actually, could you stay home?" He asked while cutting his food to take another bite. "I have an important package coming later that needs to be signed for... plus it's just boring stuff anyway, just some meetings and all that stuff you don't care about."

"Oh, okay! That's alright," You smiled, your plate now cleared. "I'll stay here."

Cillian got ready while you sat on the lounge, watching your favorite show. Cillian hurriedly walked into the living room and sat down beside you. You paused the TV and looked at him with a sad smile.

"I'm gonna miss you while you're out," You whispered, kissing him softly on the cheek. "You not shaving?" You hummed when you noticed he still had some stubble lining his jaw.

"I know, baby love," He murmured, his hand caressing your thigh. "Nah, I think I'm gonna grow out my beard a lil'... I'm gonna be gone for a little while... probably won't be back until this evening..."

"Oh..." You frowned, pouting at him as he placed his hands on either side of your face.

"Don't worry," He whispered, pecking you softly on your pouty lips. "You've got a gift comin' today," He hummed, and you raised your eyebrows curiously. "It's a little treat from me. You can go on and open it without me. I know how impatient you can get..."

"Really?" You said ecstatically. "Thank you, Cillian... I'm sure I'm gonna love it." You reached out and wrapped your arms tightly around him.

"Oh, you will," He whispered into your ear. "You're gonna really fuckin' like it."

You and Cillian shared one last loving kiss as you walked him to the door. You watched him go with a longing sigh before turning around and wondering what you were gonna do for the day. Cillian never specified when your gift was showing up.

For a while, you bundled up on the couch and watched some more TV, but eventually, you grew restless and wandered into your bedroom and tried on your new set of lacy white lingerie. You look angelic in the most sinful way possible. You planned on acting all submissive and obedient for Cillian tonight, and you wanted to look everything pure and innocent for your daddy. The lace and tight straps hugged you beautifully and exemplified your curves. The back of it was just one thin G-string sitting between your ass... And, of course, two baby pink bows strapped on either side of your hips. Not to be despite the thin lace front where you could easily see your pretty wet pussy through.

The top piece of the set was a small white corset laced up with bows and soft, sweet velvet. The busk straps on either side of your darling shoulders were adorned with cute patterned lace and tiny little bows... and made your tits look fucking amazing. Oh, you were adorable and simply undeniably fuckable-looking. His cock would look at you before even his eyes had, and before he knew it, his cocks got a brain, and it's leading him straight to you.

A soft garter belt attached to the tops of your translucently cotton stockings that went up to your thighs. Everything was perfect and handmade and expensive. So you decided to just keep it on and surprise him like this when he gets home. While you pranced around the living room, sipping your freshly made tea. A sweet milky early grey, soothing your inner qualms and exciting you even more at the thought of Cillian coming home.

It was around 2 PM now, and you figured Cillian wouldn't be home for another couple of hours, so the distinct sound of Cillian's car coming up the driveway made you frown. What happened? You were worried something terrible happened and didn't bother putting any clothes on since you knew it was just Cillian. A knock at the door made you frown and pause in your footsteps.

"Delivery!" Cillian yelled with an American accent. You giggled, thinking it was just him messing around, and so you quickly unlocked the door to the most shocking sight.

Cillian stood there in a nice slimming suit, the same kind that Jonathan Crane wore. And the sight of his hair styled how it was in Batman, and the classic glasses and briefcase clutched in hand, you felt like you were going to pass out.

"My... what a skimpy little outfit you've got on, sweetheart," He grumbled, lifting up a tiny little teal-colored Tiffany&Co gift bag with a little note that said 'From Cillian, xxx' and you realized that was his gift. "Ran into your cute boyfriend... by the way."

"What do you mean, Cillian?" You whispered, taking tiny steps back as he walked slowly and creepily towards you until your back hit the wall.

"I know we may look similar..." He whispered, grabbing you roughly by your chin. "But I think you know exactly who I am," He said raspily into your ear. His American accent sends you into overdrive. "Cillian... huh... well, he's not here right now, Ms. Y/N." He growled, grabbing ahold of one of your tits through your lingerie.

"Wh-Wha..." You couldn't comprehend what was happening. Cillian was doing such a convincing act at being Jonathan Crane it made you forget it was actually him.

Jonathan grabbed a hold of you, and you hit and squealed as he threw you over his shoulders. Fuck, he was so strong. He placed a harsh smack on your ass and shoved you roughly down onto the bed so you were looking up at him. His hair is a bit messed up now, and his glasses sitting lowly on his nose. It really was him, you had convinced yourself. It's Jonathan Crane.

"Too bad your little boyfriend's not gonna see what I'm gonna do to you," He growled as he tugged a bit on your underwear, pulling you into a sitting position. "Let's say... Cillian and I had a little deal, and this was my end... of the bargain per se.... think I know a better way to treat this sickness of yours..."

"Where is Cillian...?" You asked with quivering lips. He stood with two legs slotted in between your bare ones. He was even wearing a different cologne, and you noticed he had shaved to look younger.

"Oh baby, you don't wanna know," He smirked, briefly brushing your cheek before placing his black briefcase beside you on the bed. "Your boyfriend mentioned some concerns about your well-being, so he sent me here to check on you..." Jonathan had a smug smirk on his face as he unlocked his briefcase, pulling out a small packet of pills. "Now, I'm here to make you feel better..." He popped out a pill and placed it in the palm of his hand. "Open wide, princess..." He mused.

"Wha-What is it?" As you hesitantly opened your mouth and let him place the small white pill right on your tongue. He leaned down and had his mouth right next to your ear.

"Just a sugar pill," Cillian whispered in his Irish accent again. "Pretend it's a sedative... you can always say the safe word at any time, angel. I love you." He placed a kiss against your cheek before pulling away with that cold demeanor of Jonathan Crane again. You dry swallowed the pill. "That's a good girl," He hummed, shutting his briefcase. You caught a glimpse of a rather large dildo and a few other sex toys. "You'll feel real good in about ten minutes. Now I want you to get nice and spread out for me so I can fuck you."

You scrambled back up onto the bed and spread your legs wide open with trembling lips. "But... I have a boyfriend... you're not my boyfriend..."

"No, sweetie," He shook his head, chuckling as he kicked off his shoes and undid his coat. "But your stupid boyfriend doesn't have to know a thing about what happens tonight."

"N-No..." You shut your legs and quickly got out of the bed to run.

"Oh no, you fucking don't," He barked, grabbing you by your ankle and pulling you back towards him like you were just a sack of meat. "I'm afraid I'm gonna have to tie you to the bed if you're even gonna think about trying to get away from me."

"Jonatha-"

"Doctor or sir to you, bitch," He slapped you harshly across the face and pulled out ankle and wrist restraints. "Get in position, don't make me force you."

"Yes, sir..." You said with your eyes down and crawling up the bed to be in a position where you could be tied up. Jonathan firmly put the cuffs on your ankles and your wrists, chaining you to the bed frame from both sides. "Please don't hurt me..."

"Please don't hurt me," He mocked in a high-pitched voice. "I'm gonna do whatever I please to you." He hissed, pulling your ass into his clothed cunt. "How cute you wore this for your boyfriend... so pathetic." "He... He likes them..."

"Oh, I'm sure he does," He cackled his menacing laugh. "Too bad he's never gonna see you in it. Think I'm gonna have to keep you for myself." "What do you mean?" You whimpered, pulling a bit at your restraints.

"It's just gonna be me and you for now, baby... your boyfriend's not comin' back... what a shame..." He unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall to the floor. You tried your best to pull away from him as he crawled on top of you but you couldn't go very far with your limited mobility.

"Fuck... I think... I think the medicine is kicking in..." You whined as you felt Jonathan pull down your panties but kept everything else in place. He wanted to fuck you with your cute skimpy lingerie on. Cillian had truly put himself in the mindset of this character as he pulled his cock out and grabbed at your thighs roughly. Your eyes drooped a bit but Jonathan quickly snapped you out of it by shoving his cock in you harshly.

"Bet you're still full of his cum, aren't you?" Jonathan grunted as you squeezed around him, unbelievably wet. "What a fucking whore."

"Doctor... please..." You cried, thrusting your hips up into him. "Please don't do this... this isn't right.. my... my... boyfriend... will find out-"

"Oh shut the fuck up," He spat, fucking you like you were just some fleshlight. "You're mine now, slut... gonna fuckin use you for all my experiments and fuck you while you're cowering in fear under my toxins."

"Pl-Please..." Tears slipped out from your eyes. "I'm not on the pill... please stop..." You lied and pulled at your restraints, trying to get free.

"Oh fuck, even better," He moaned. "Gonna get you pregnant and show your loving boyfriend what we fuckin' did... he'll see what an easy slut you are..." Jonathan's voice was cold and mean, but it made you moan so much louder and shake with pleasure as you came around him. "Told you so... look at you cumming already on my dick when I just put it in you."

"N-No..." You whimpered, tears streaming down your face. That only made him fuck you harder and deeper into you. He was getting off on your crying. "Please... you can't..." Your body had gone limp at this point. He showed no signs of stopping, fucking your spasming cunt.

"Poor little thing," He ran his thumb sweetly over your wet cheeks with a smug smirk. "Pretending like you're not just some cum-hungry slut."

You mewled and fought against your restraints as he somehow managed to make you cum again. You were so fucking turned on that your body gave in to the pleasure so easily and quickly. "Too much... too much... sir..." You wailed, trying to shut your legs, but that only made him pin those down as he continued fucking you. You thought about how you had edged Cillian earlier, so you imagined that this probably was his revenge.

"Go on and take my cum then, whore," Jonathan groaned as he spurt cum deep inside of you, further intensifying your orgasm. Jonathan grunted ferociously, cum filling you to the brim as he shook with the pleasure he was experiencing.

"Oh..." You squeaked, shutting your eyes as you twitched.

He pulled out of you, squirting a bit more cum out onto your swollen clit and watching it drip down and meet the rest of your sperm-filled hole. Jonathan seemed pleased with his creation as he slipped his fogged-up glasses off and wiped them clean before sliding them back on.

"Doctor...." You whispered, heaving as he stood up and undid your restraints. "Thank you..." You whispered, rubbing your sore ankles and wrists. "Pl-Please don't tell my boyfriend about this." Jonathan scoffed and rolled his eyes as he tucked his cock back into his underwear.

"I'm not finished with you yet, sweetheart," Jonathan whispered, leaning in and biting your neck. You whimpered and grabbed ahold of him as he left marks on your neck.

"No! Don't mark... don't mark me..." You tried to pull him off of you, but he wouldn't budge. It only made him bite you harder. "Jonathan... he'll see..."

"Good, I want him to see what a nasty slut you are," He growled, biting down harder.

You shoved him off of you and, with no underwear on, ran down the hall to get away from him. But you heard footsteps pounding down the hallway after you ominously, not at a very fast pace.

"Oh, you can run, but you can't hide sweetheart," He chuckled as he slowly walked around and acted as if he couldn't see you hiding behind one of the floor-length curtains. The tops of your feet poked out from underneath. "Hmm... where'd you go? I won't hurt you." It was creepy how convinced you were it was anyone other than your Cillian. In a way, you were truly horrified of him finding you. His American accent remains steady and strong.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt a hand wrap tightly around your arm and yank you out of your horrible hiding spot. "Stupid little girl... trying to hide from me..." He looked pissed as he dragged you to the center of the living room, where he shoved you down on your knees. "I have an idea..." He smirked, a glimmer of mischief flickering through his cold eyes. "Let's see what your sweet little daddy got you... hmm? Stay here on your knees... or I swear to fuckin' god..." He said through gritted teeth before sauntering off in only his underwear and glasses.

When he returns, it's with that familiar Tiffany&Co bag clutched in his hands. "How generous of your daddy to buy this for you... too bad he's not here to put it on you..." Jonathan hummed as he opened the gift for you.

"D-Don't... it's not... it's not yours..."

"You're right, sweetheart," He smirked before tearing open the bag, and a small box came out, the same shade of teal. He opened the package as he towered over you, your knees aching from digging into the hardwood floors. Your eyebrows knitted together as he pulled out a delicate silver chain and the most beautiful pendant you'd ever seen. "Lift your hair up for me, baby girl," Jonathan leaned down as you lifted up your hair and clasped the chain around your neck. It sat perfectly along your collarbones, and the bright ruby stood out against your complexion beautifully. "Does it look nice on me?" You asked quietly, noticing Jonathan's cock straining against his briefs once again.

"Yeah, you look nice and pretty," He grunted, pulling down the waistband of his shorts and began fisting his cock at the sight of you. "Too bad he's not here to see you right now, hmmm?" He moaned a little as he stroked his cock, quickly slapping you across the face with it before pressing it against your lips. "Suck."

Hesitantly you opened your mouth, and without much warning, he thrusted his hips until his cock hit the back of your throat. One of his hands held your hair in a messy ponytail while also pushing you up and down on his dick. He looked at you with that sickening smile, glasses drooping low on his nose, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"Fuck, that's it," He huffed out, fucking your head like it was just a mere toy to him. "Now I see why he keeps you around..." He sighed, tossing his head back and thriving in the feeling of your lips wrapped around his sensitive cock. "You're a good little cocksucker... that's your use."

Tears fell with every quick blink you gave him, eyes stinging from the saltiness. With every thrust into your throat, you'd gag, and more tears would fill the brim of your eyelids. You were viewing the most delicious view of his stomach and chest as well as the muscular bicep holding your head in place.

"Gonna cum all over your pathetic little face," Jonathan grunted with absolutely no concern for how you were doing. Of course, you could always give him three quick taps on the hip to say that's enough, but you never did. You loved being treated like this. "Bet you're getting off on this, aren't you slut?" You blinked your eyes up at him to signal yes. "That's what I thought, so then you know your purpose... what a good fucktoy Murphy's got..." He howled as he started to reach his peak. "Gonna cum down your throat... swallow every fuckin' drop."

You pressed your tongue against his shaft, really wanting to milk him good. You felt the familiar sensation of hot ropes of cum shooting down your throat. You gulped it down gratefully as he slowly pulled out, filling your mouth with cum, entirely pulling his cock out of your mouth to squirt all over your face. "Let's not forget..." He whispered, aiming it down onto your pretty little ruby necklace.

"O-Oh..." You coughed out, sticky with his cum, some dripping from the tip of your nose.

"Aren't you gonna thank me for your treat, slut?" He asked, slapping you across the face with the back of his hand. "Go on, thank me."

"Th-Thank you... Doctor..." You gasped out, feeling small spurts of cum dripping down your tits and onto your corset. Good thing it was already white.

"That's it, so polite," Jonathan grinned, raising you from your knees to your feet. "Look how wet you are..." He ran two fingers along your wet slit. You looked up at him with parted lips. His other hand wiped his cum from your face with his fingers before shoving into your open mouth. He smirked at the sight of your pretty new necklace covered in his cum.

"Sir..." You whimpered with pouted lips. "Please touch me more..." He pushed you into the couch, and you heard your hands being cuffed behind your back and a slight slap to your ass. "Wh-Why are you cuffing me?" Your voice trembled.

"Because you won't be able to handle what I give you next."

Shudders went down your spine as he pressed you down into a perfect arch, arms snugly tucked against your lower back. You heard him searching through his briefcase and then a tiny little zap! to the back of your thighs. "Ow!" You winced, jumping away.

"Oh darling, that was only the first setting," Jonathan snickered and got on his knees behind you, and you could look at him now from this angle despite it being a bit upside down. "You poor thing..." He cooed in faux sympathy.

"Wh-What're you gonna do to me, doctor?" You whispered, eyes wide as he placed a pink dildo within your line of sight.

"Gonna see how much you can take," He hummed simply, holding a small bottle of lube in one hand. Your eyes widened even further and you started shaking your head.

"No, no, no!" You tried to wiggle away from him but he grabbed a hold of your hips and pushed you into an even more intense and vulnerable position. Both your holes on display for him now.

"Don't worry, I'm a doctor. I know what I'm doing..." He mused, lube-covered fingers now drawing circles around your asshole. "Breathe in for me, darling," He pressed two fingers into you, and you cried softly into the couch cushions, pussy gushing out pools of arousal and Crane's cum that was still inside of you. His fingers slowly stretched you out until you were ready to take the fake cock he was about to give you that he had already lubed up.

"Fuck... Jonathan..." You mewled as he slowly pressed the head in, gauging you for your reactions to make sure you were alright. "Oh god..." The thing was nearly fully sheathed inside of you.

"Fuck... look how amazing that is..." He whispered in awe, pushing the last of it until you were full to the brim with the toy. "Ready for the next part, love?" You heard a bit of an Irish accent come out in that question, which made you giggle. He quickly cleared his throat. "Cause I don't think you are." There was the American again.

"Oh god..." You whined, drool falling out of your mouth and your tits beginning to slip out from your corset. You heard a light buzzing of a vibrator coming from behind you which was quickly slipped inside of you and placed precisely on your g-spot. "Oh! Fuck! Turn it down... it's too much... ouch!" You squealed as he tased you on the hip again.

"Shhh... I'm just seeing the power that pleasure has over the body," Jonathan hummed as he put the rest of the small baby pink vibrator on your clit, which really crossed the line of overstimulation. Jonathan gripped the fake-cock in your ass and slowly pressed it in and out of you. You stood on your tippy toes, trying to get away from the pleasure and the pain of it all. "Look at you... how pathetic... and dirty. Bet you rarely let him use your little ass like this," He growled as he harshly thrust it back into you. Your moans were nearing screams at this point. "See, that's the thing about me and him... he'll do whatever you'll tell him to do, but you see... I don't get told what to do, especially not by a stupid little cumsock like you."

"I"m not a cums-"

Zap!

He moaned at the sound of your cries, tears slipping down your face again as he turned the vibrator up another setting. It was simply too much, and your mind was beginning to slowly cave in on itself. The vibrator is placed perfectly on your clit, and g-spot, and it was becoming harder and harder to bear. Your body shook, and your mind went truly blank as an unexpected orgasm hit you. Jonathan laughed sadistically as he turned the taser on and zapped you as you started to cum. You screamed in agony and from the electric pleasure, he held that there for a moment until it left a mark and then pulled it off of you.

"So fucking pretty," Jonathan praised, kissing your ass cheek. "This is all you're good for," He pressed the fake-cock further into your ass, and you mewled as you felt yourself squirt involuntarily. This was one of the longest orgasms you've ever had. You fought against the handcuffs, and tears were falling down your face as you soaked Jonathan's face behind you.

"St-Stop... too much..." You sobbed, writhing in overstimulation. Jonathan, with a wet face, slowly pulled the dildo out of you and placed it to the side. "Fuck..."

Once he had removed the vibrator, you relaxed, collapsing to your knees and burying your face into a couch cushion to muffle your crying. "There, there, Y/N," Jonathan hummed, undoing your restraints and pulling you into him. He held you while whispering sweet nothings in your ear with that unnerving American accent.

"Can... can I have Cillian back now?" You asked quietly, shaking a bit in his lap, pussy still gushing out fluids onto his thighs. He laughed softly and took off his wet glasses, setting them down on the coffee table.

"You need yer daddy?" Cillian asked. There was that lovely Irish accent again. "I'm right here, love." You smiled, pressing your face into his neck. "I love you so much, Daddy." You whispered, appreciating the warmth of his body against yours.

"I love you, baby," He hummed, covering your face in tiny kisses. "Let's get you cleaned up and then we'll get comfy in bed, yeah? Maybe order somethin' in?"

"Mhm..."

Cillian picked you up bridal style and carried you into your bathroom, where he sat you down on the bathtub's edge and carefully undid all the clasps of your lingerie. "So pretty, you did so good for me... love," Cillian praised.

After waiting for the bath to fill with hot water and once you and Cillian were fully undressed, you got in with a tired sigh. You felt exhausted and so overstimulated. So together, you lay in a hot bath that made you feel like you were in the womb again with Cillian's arms holding you like you were going to leave him. Your eyes fluttered shut as you nestled yourself closer to him, burying your face in his familiar chest. He stroked your wet hair, kissing the crowns of your head.

"Oh, baby girl..." He whispered deeply. "You did so good for me... made me feel so good..."

"Mmm... I know," You mumbled, ears pressed to the sound of his beating chest. The rhythm of his beloved heart was lulling you to sleep. "You made me so good... made me feel so good..." You agreed dopily.

Cillian cooed at you, cupping your jaw with his hand as he made you look up at him. "Oh, sweetheart... are you okay? Did I hurt you too much?"

"No, I'm okay, Cillian..." You reassured, stretching your neck out to give him a tender kiss. You leaned your forehead against his, hands pressed firmly on his chest. "I'm a little sore and need to be handled with care, but I'm okay... I feel... I feel so good..."

"Me too..." He whispered, pecking you quickly on the lips. "I love you, Y/N."

"I love you, Jonathan..." You whispered before quickly pulling away and shaking your head with embarrassment. "No, I meant Cillian...! I'm so sorry!"

"What's this about some Jonathan guy?" Cillian teased. "You dummy." He chuckled, grabbing you and pulling you back down on his chest again. He went back to that hypnotic way of stroking your hair. "Did I do a good job? Did ya enjoy yourself?"

"Oh, fuck, Cillian... that was so fucking fun..." You giggled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "You're so hot... and so fucking talented..."

"Talented..?" He wheezed, cupping your face in between his hands as you spoke to him.

"Yeah... god... just how you so effortlessly talk in that American accent... it's so degrading and so fucking hot..." You rambled, rolling your eyes into the back of your head as you talked about him. "And I loved the whole... 'he's not right here right now'... thing even though you were right here...."

"You've still got a bit of m'cum on your throat..." He chuckled, glancing down at the ruby he gave you, glazed in a thin layer of cum. "Look so pretty covered in me cum..." Cillian hummed with a distracted and dazed look in his eyes as he daydreamed at the sight of your tits and the new shiny necklace around your pretty neck. In a way, it symbolized a way of permanently marking you. You were his. Any other bloke that tried to take a glance at you would see that cherry-red ruby and know to back the fuck off because this is Cillian Murphy's girl.

"Thank you... Daddy..." You whispered, pressing your face softly into his neck and slowly nuzzling your nose all the way up until you had your lips against his cheek. "I look so pretty with this new necklace you gave me... thank you... you're such a good boyfriend..." You whispered into his ear in a hypnotizing way.

"Yer welcome, babie," He grumbled, pressing kisses to your jaw as you licked softly at his jaw and neck. "Love buyin' you new pretty t'ings for me to put on you... especially love what you bought for yourself today..." He whispered, referring to the white lingerie you wore earlier. "Fuck... my cock was hard the moment I laid eyes on ya..."

"Oh hush," You giggled, poking him on the chest as you straddled him. "Maybe we could do that again sometime?" You asked coyly while you straddled his hips.

"What? Have me fuck ya as you call me another man's name?" Cillian asked in mock annoyance.

"No..."

"I'm just teasing, love..." Cillian laughed, kissing you softly. "'Course we can do it again, love... I saw how fuckin' wet you got the moment you realized who I was being."

"Obviously... I would like regular... doctor checkups from Jonathan..."

"'Course..." Cillian nodded curtly and with a smug smirk. "Dr. Crane's... very obsessive... gotta check in on his favorite patient..."

"But... also..."

"Hmmm? Cillian hummed, running his hands up your back with some soap. He softly rubbed in the soap along your sore and used body.

"Could we do Jackson Rippner next time?" You asked, covering your face in your hands.

"Huh?" He laughed in surprise.

"Just you were so sexy... in that movie..." "But he was a terrorist with an awful haircut!" Cillian protested with a bewildered grin on his face.

"Pleaaasee... daddy... it could be so good... pretty please..." You begged, giving him those sad eyes that instantly made him give in.

"Fine... fine, just as long as I don't have to cut my bloody hair..." He grumbled, rolling his eyes playfully.

"We are going on that little trip next week..." You whispered cheekily. "We could do a little somethin' somethin' on the plane..." You grinned.

"Oh yeah?" Cillian chortled. "Can you imagine? 'Cillian Murphy caught goin' into the airplane bathrooms with his young girlfriend to shag.' The stupid papers would shat out their own minds."

"We wouldn't get caught... daddy..." You whispered, nuzzling his nose. "Please..." You cried pathetically into his ear, all while seductively running your fingers up his body.

"Fuck me... alright..." He huffed. "But you have to go along with every word I say to you, alright? I'm also not getting a haircut... We can't fuck this up..." He told you commandingly. He paused for a moment before continuing. "But also, the idea of fuckin' you in some tight little airplane bathroom and having to keep you quiet is making me lose my mind..."

"Mhm..." You hummed, leaning in to kiss him. "Whatever you say goes, Cillian... I'll be a good girl." "I know you will, baby... 'cause I know you don't wanna find out what Jackson does to bad girls..." He whispered in your ear, causing you to shudder.

You really couldn't wait for this trip.

Part two?? Yes or no?? AHHH I HOPE YOU ENJOYED I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE.

PART TWO!!!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #jonathan crane #jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #jonathan crane x you #jonathan crane imagine #scarecrow x reader #scarecrow smut #batman begins #cillian murphy imagine #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders

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shooting-love-arrows · 5 months

Note

A villian yandere? Not like those cartoon villian but the one that actually make the reader feel fearful, not because the villian is physicaly scary or something but the villian is so cunning, sly and manipulative like the knave from genshin or fyodor from bsd

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐍

PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 x reader (gender not mentioned/specified/implied) TW. manipulation, isolation, holding reader against her will, stockholm syndrome, dark yandere, flag so red my eyes hurts, unhinge, yandere behavior. A/N: Inspired by manhwas I've read so far. I'm on a roll guys. I didn't expect it to be this long too but man, he's one crazy creation.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who isolates you to the point of insanity. It is widely known humans are social creatures and we need social interactions. However, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 used this fact to his advantage. Knowing that after a while people go mad when they don’t interact with other people, he decided to do just that. At first his manipulation is subtle: hidden suggestions about who is right to hand with and who's not. Little yet meaningful words weaved between innocent sentences. Then when he saw his tactics working, he began to get bolder. As the group of people becomes smaller (thanks to him) 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 starts to outwardly say they aren't people you should associate with. They are a bad influence and did you know they said this and that behind your back? Real friends don’t do that! He doesn’t do that! That's when comments about how you don't need anyone but him, who always stays by your side and was right about what he told you, each and every time. Your family isn't safe from his doings either. He never fails to drive you away from them. Suddenly they are people who lead you on and make a fool out of you. A black sheep of the family. You just had to see! Before you know it, you are completely alone with only him to talk and listen to.

"I'm just looking out for you like a best friend should be doing." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 wanted to vomit when he said those two, blasted words.

Who snaps and ends up locking you up. Now that you're completed isolated and you happen to start living with him, he locks you up. In a bedroom with a bathroom attached who only has necessities and nothing you could harm yourself with. You can bang, scratch and kick at the door all you want but those doors won't budge. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 is fully prepared. Those doors were expensive but it was worth it. Those locks could be opened by him and the material it was made of could not be so easily destroyed without certain tools you didn’t have. And you're yelling, begging and crying? It is like music to his ears. He'll often sit at the door and listen to you, basking in your voice, and when you're quiet (either pass out from exhaustion or too tired to continue), he'll pick up from where he ended the last time, manipulating you again. His sentences are repetitive and he wants to drill those into your head. He'll tell you how no one is looking for you, how he's all you need, how he'll take care of you and so on...

"Those people want to hurt you. I am doing this for your own good. If you want, I can bring you something? I was thinkng about tamagochi! They are so cut, aren't they?"

Who has to show you some tough love. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 didn’t expect you to realize just how much he loves you. That’s why he tried to be an understanding partner and be forgiving towards your rash and childish tantrums. But he has his limits too. For example, he notices how you don't eat meals he oh so lovingly has prepared for you. If you don’t want to eat, then he won’t force you. He just doesn't bring you food for the next 2-3 days. Only water. And on the fourth day, he'll bring you a proper meal again. Of course, like he expected, you ate it all. See? It’s not hard to act your age. You don’t see it but 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 smiled in glee when he saw an empty plate. It's a good sign!

"I'm relieved you like the food I prepared for you. I cooked it for the first time but when I saw the recipe I knew you'd like it."

Who you grow to not only fear and love. He is your captor, the one who took away your freedom and cut all ties with society, who manipulates you and ends up breaking you. Who you feared, despised and cursed like he was the source of all evil. But the longer you stayed in the little room that became your whole world, the lines between hater and love began to blurr. Not that you realized it. At some point something switched in your brain and although you feared him, you began to ponder over his words. Maybe he's right? After this period of time, no one ended up looking for you. No one cared enough to do so. And you do only have him. He always makes time for you, brings you delicious meals, and sometimes even gifts you a little trinkets when you act good. Not to mention you live in a nice bedroom with a bathroom too. He never touched you without your consent or forced you to do anything. You could make a choice to bathe whenever you want, pick one of the books he brought you and read and so on. Your brain was suggesting that he is a caring best friend who takes care of you and protects you from all those monserts that want to hurt and bring you down. Soon enough his actions made your heart speed up.

"I knew you'll love me..." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐕𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 teared up when he heard your confession. It was worth the waiting becaouse now he can bulit a perfect life he always imagined having with you. "I love too. So, so, so much sometimes it hurts."

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

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xoxoladyaz · 11 months

Text

It Hits Different This Time

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five

“Steve.”

He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.

“STEVE.”

He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.

Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by

“Alexa, volume up.”

“Steve – STEVE!”

It hits different, it hits different this time

“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.

“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”

“I’d rather not.”

Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

They lay in silence.

“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”

“I know.”

“He didn’t even text me.”

“I know.”

“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”

“I know, Steve.”

There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”

“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”

Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”

Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”

“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”

“Steven, I’m always right.”

“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”

“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”

/////

Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle.

“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”

Silence.

What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.

He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.

The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.

There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.

Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:

I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.

Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank.

Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.

Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else.

Your biggest fan, Steve

He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit.

He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.

It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.

What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.

And now Steve is gone.

Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.

“Fuck.”

Five days.

He’s five days too fucking late.

He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.

“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”

“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”

Jeff’s silent for a moment.

“I’m on my way.”

#steddie #steddie week #steddie angst #steddie fanfic #rock star eddie munson #angst #stranger things #hurt/comfort #Steve x Eddie #lmk if you'd like a follow-up to this or not #hits different Taylor swift #Steve harrington #Eddie munson #stobin #stobin friendship #rock star au #fame au #corroded coffin

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 4 months

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Hope you dont mind an angsty request but

Can i request Kieran, Carmine, and Drayton see (or heard for Drayton’s part) the reader in a comatose state after taking the blow that was meant for Kieran when Terapagos went out of control. Like they, in the moment, sacrifice themself for Kieran and was somehow still standing after taking the hit but after they caught Terapagos, they immediatley fainted and havent woken up ever since.

(Btw i enjoy your posts!)

Ough this hurts, it's an absolutely devastating concept <//3

(and thank you!!!)

.....

Kieran

Instead of summoning your 'raidon, you shoved him aside and took the full brunt of the tera energy-infused blast, not caring what happened to you.

As long as he was safe.

He couldn't understand why you'd do this for him.

Even after going on that angry tirade about you, even after he caught Terapagos with a master ball solely to "get even" with you....you chose to save his life when you could've just saved yourself, Carmine, and Briar.

How could you be so kind and selfless to someone like him? Who's done nothing but talk about how much he envied you?

And somehow you're still standing, convincing him to fight by your side so you could both quell the legendary's fury.

Seeing the light return to his eyes made you smile as your pokemons' combined strength defeated it, with Kieran deciding to let you properly catch it.

What nobody expected, though, was for you to pass out shortly after you picked up the pokeball you used..

Your 'raidon got everybody safely out of Area Zero, but you still haven't woken up and were rushed to the hospital.

The attack left you in a comatose-like state, according to doctors, and there's no telling when you'll awaken...if ever.

There was overwhelming tera energy coming from your body, which caused any Pokémon within the room to start terastalizing themselves. So you had to be isolated, having only human visitors.

Of course, Kieran was the most devastated.

Now he might never get the chance to apologize to you..and it's all because he got obsessed with defeating you and was willing to use a dangerous legendary to do just that.

This was all his fault.

If you were to die thinking he still hated you...he'd never forgive himself.

He definitely doesn't wanna think about you reincarnating into a Phantump and haunting him for the rest of his life.

He visits as often as he can, holding your hand while he talks to you.

While he's not sure if you could even hear what he was saying, but somehow he believes you're listening.

"I went too far, [y/n]..I only ever wanted to be like you. But instead I....I-I did this to you. I did this to someone who still believed in me. Someone who still saw me as....a-as a friend..." His voice breaks, never having felt such remorse in his entire life. "I'm so, so sorry...please wake up soon."

Although he had let go of his bitterness towards you entirely, his bad sleeping/eating habits are still there, and there's not much that anybody can do to help him cope.

With every visit, he grows more desperate for a positive update on your condition, chatting with you and always ending with a plea for you to wake up.

Hell, he's even willing to become friends with Drayton again if that's what it took to see your eyes open.

When you do finally awaken after the tera energy readings have dropped to practically zero, you see Kieran asleep in the chair beside you, his hair messy and reminiscent of what it looked like a year ago.

You muster up enough strength to lightly ruffle it, and that's what makes him jerk awake, shocked.

At first he thinks he's still dreaming when he sees you're now conscious...but when the doctors confirm you're gonna make a full recovery, he just collapses into your waiting arms and sobs into your shoulder, having held back all of his tears until now.

You simply comfort him, reassuring that you didn't blame him at all.

It was you who chose to sacrifice yourself.

And you'd do it all over again.

Carmine

Seeing you take that devastating hit for her brother shocked her to her very core...and even moreso when you were still standing despite the powerful blast.

But when you pass out shortly after capturing Terapagos, she's quick to snap Briar for pushing Kieran to terastalize it, blaming her for the reason this all happened.

She doesn't care if she gets in trouble for backtalking a teacher.

Her obsession with this "hidden treasure" ended up hurting a student, someone she was supposed to protect...and now you may never wake up.

At the hospital, Carmine sometimes visits you alongside her brother, and other times the two go in separately, leaving their pokemon outside.

When it's just her, she mostly talks about how Kieran has been doing, mentioning how you literally brought the light back into his eyes and how he wasn't some battle-crazed stranger anymore.

You saved him in more ways than one, and she cries a little just thinking about that, wishing you'd wake up and see that he was willing to let go of the past.

Whether it takes days or weeks, she never stops visiting you.

What you did for her brother was noble...and something she wishes she could've been brave enough to do.

The day you finally wake up and start to remember everything, Carmine quickly tries to cover up the fact she was crying.

But when you start talking, she's quick to breakdown as she (lightly) berated you for doing something so reckless, making you swear to NEVER do that again.

Soon Kieran rushes in the moment he hears you're awake..and he starts crying, too.

You just comfort the two siblings in your groggy half-asleep state, wondering how you'll tell them that this wasn't your first near-death experience...

Drayton

All he hears is that you were involved in an accident down in Area Zero...and it feels like a punch to the gut when he learns it put you into a coma.

Now he wishes he went with you. Maybe he could've kept an eye on Kieran just in case he did anything stupid for the sake of defeating you in-battle.

But he didn't, and that's exactly what ends up happening.

Despite not knowing all the details, he 100% believes Kieran is at fault for your condition.

Even though Drayton only knew you for a short time, he cared enough to frequently visit your room, trying to stay his chill and relaxed self while he talks to you about whatever came to mind (in case you were listening, he didn't want you to worry over him).

But it gets harder with every passing day and no clear confirmation on when (and if) you'll wake up.

Carmine was afraid he was going to strangle Kieran if he saw him...

Yet whenever they so-happen to visit you at the exact same time, words are seldom exchanged between the two.

Although Drayton will often glare at him, thinking to himself "only now he's sorry?"

Even so, he doesn't verbalize it.

There's no bitter reminders of what Kieran did. No petty insults to get the other ex-champion riled up.

They just sit in silence, although seeing the tears in the younger boy's eyes and the way he holds your hand made Drayton's gaze less icy the more he saw it.

Whenever you wake up, he's one of the first to know and brought you a Dragonite plushie as a gift, relieved to see you talking, his eyes slightly stinging and a huge smile on his face.

Once you recover more, he'll ask you what you remembered of Area Zero....and becomes shocked after you explained everything that happened down there.

All this time, he thought Kieran used Terapagos to attack you directly, but to learn it actually got out of control and turned its back on him??? And you chose to push him out of the way???

Drayton isn't sure if you're brave or dumb, but he's glad you're okay now.

When Kieran comes in, he leaves you both be to update the Elite Four, although he'll be back to help you on the long road to recovery.

#clanask #anonymous #pokemon x reader #pokemon sv x reader #pokemon scarlet x reader #pokemon violet x reader #pokemon kieran #pokemon carmine #pokemon drayton #headcanons #angst #tw coma #just in case

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leah-lover · 1 month

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Closed for maintenance. Leah williamson × reader.

This is part 2. I took a gamble on the ending. If you don't like it tell me so that I can change it.

PS: thank you for all the support ❤️❤️.

I woke up the next day with a painful headache. The light painfully affected my eyes as soon as I opened them. At first I didn't take in my surroundings, all I thought about was the pain. Then suddenly it all came back, the party, the drinks, Leah, the kiss. Holy shit Leah I kissed Leah. “Oh no why do I do this why the hell do I always do this. Fuck.” I cursed at myself. Then I jolted up. This is not my room, it's probably Leah's. I quickly inspected the room, no longer feeling the pain in my head as I was preoccupied with the trouble I got into. I then noticed a note that said “ good morning beautiful, come join me in the kitchen.”

I got up to refresh my hair. I was still in yesterday's clothes, so I just tidied myself and went out to join her.

I was met with the cutest sight in the world. Leah blasting ABBA, dancing and cooking what looks like eggs. With the biggest smile on my face I said “ good morning cap.”. She embarrassed turned down the music and replied “ good morning to you sleepy head, you were drunk last night so I brought you home I am not sure if you remember “

“ I do remember everything despite the earth shaking headache I am experiencing right now.” I added, which made her nervous.

“ Leah the pan it's burning.” I pointed out. “Shit. Oh god. What are we gonna do?” she said while putting the pan in the sink.

“ Well I guess the girls are having brunch, maybe we should join them.” I suggested, afraid of the outcome of us being alone.

“ Good Idea I am gonna go get ready you tell the girls we are coming together, I mean yeah…., not together like in the same car I guess.” She blurred out while going up the stairs.

On our way to the restaurant Leah seemed nervous, she kept fidgeting with the console not knowing what to do. I just ignored the tension and stared at the window.

Once we arrived we were greeted by Katie. “ Look who just showed up in yesterday's clothes late.” She said,

“ Katie fuck off please and thank you.”She replied, ushering me to an empty seat and pushing the chair out for me. “Such a gentleman “ said Katie, which earned her a stern look from Leah.

The conversation flew rather quickly, and the girls grew tired and started to leave one by one. After a while I was left with Leah alone.

“ We need to talk about what happened yesterday, it is eating at me.” She started, “ it , you, have been eating at me since you joined. You are one of if not the most beautiful human beings I know. You are kind, sweet, and confident. You are a leader and a good friend. I ….” She added before I stopped her when I put a finger on her mouth.

“ I need you to listen to me Leah. I can't let this go far. I have been in a relationship with my teammate. It has ruined my career. I left Chelsea because of my relationship with Niamh. I lost friends because they were hers first. I was left alone. I like the family here at arsenal. I don't want to lose that. Plus my heart is closed. I don't want a relationship. I can't handle a relationship right now.” I said with tears falling down my cheek.

“hey it's okay. It's not gonna be like that. Here at Arsenal what is mine is theirs. We have formed a group with Katie, Caitlain, Lia, Alessia,and Steph. What is mine is theirs and vice versa. That fact is known within the team. They won't only be my friends they will be your family. You won't be isolated. If god forbid something happened. Do you understand me?” She said, nervousness was apparent on her face.

I stayed quiet for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do. “ If you are not up to it that's okay.” She said, worry in her face. “ I don't know what to think. Maybe I just need to understand more.” I replied.

“ Let's go to Katie's house, there you will understand.” She added, grabbing my hand and leading me out of the restaurant.

And right then and there a new chapter in my life began.

#alessia russo #mary earps #niamh charles #ona batlle #woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso community #leah williamson #steph catley #lia walti

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theoutcastrogue · 3 months

Text

Cold Iron in folklore, fiction, and RPGs

'Gold is for the mistress—silver for the maid! Copper for the craftsman cunning at his trade.' 'Good!' said the Baron, sitting in his hall, 'But Iron—Cold Iron—is master of them all!' — Rudyard Kipling, “Cold Iron”

Folklore

Drudenmesser, or "witch-knife", an apotropaic folding knife from Germany

The notion that iron (or steel) can ward against evil spirits, witches, fairies, etc is very widespread in folklore. You hang a horseshoe over your threshold to deny entry to evil spirits, you carry an iron tool with you to make sure devils won't assault you, you place a small knife under the baby's crib to ward it from witches, and so on. Iron is apotropaic in many many cultures.

In English, we often come across passages that refer to apotropaic cold iron (or cold steel). "All uncouth, unknown Wights are terrifyed by nothing earthly so much as by cold Iron", says Robert Kirk in 1691, which I believe is the earliest example. "Evil spirits cannot bear the touch of cold steel. Iron, or preferably steel, in any form is a protection", says John Gregorson Campbell in 1901.

Words

So what is cold iron? In this context, it’s just iron. The “cold” part is poetic, especially – but not only – if we’re talking about either blades (or swords, weapons, the force of arms) or manacles and the like. It just sounds more ominous. There are “cold yron chaines” in The Fairie Queene (1596), and a 1638 book of travels tells us that a Georgian general (in the Caucasus) vowed “to make the Turk to eat cold iron”.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang defines “cold iron” as a sword, and dates the term to 1698. From 1725 it appears in Cant dictionaries (could this sense be thieves’ cant, originally? why not, plenty of words and expressions started as underworld slang and then entered the mainstream), and from ~1750 its use becomes much more common.

NGram Viewer diagram for 1600-2019.

In other contexts, cold iron is (surprise!) iron that’s not hot. So let’s talk a bit about metallurgy.

Metals

In nature, we can find only one kind of iron that’s pure enough to work with: meteoritic iron. It has to literally fall from the sky. Barring that very rare occurrence, people have to mine the earth for iron ore, which is not workable as is. To separate the iron from the ore we have to smelt it, and for that we need heat, in the form of hot charcoals. Throwing the ore on the coals won’t do much of anything, it’s not hot enough. But if we enclose the coals in a little tower built of clay, leaving holes for air flow, the temperature rises enough to smelt the ore. That’s called a bloomery.

clay bloomery / medieval bloomery / beating the bloom to get rid of the slag

What comes out of the bloomery is a bloom: a porous, malleable mass of iron (that we need) and slag (byproducts that we don’t need). But now we can get rid of the slag and turn the porous mass to something solid, by hammering the hot bloom over and over. And once the slag is off, by the same process we can give it a desired shape in the forge, reheating it as needed. This is called “working” the iron, hence “wrought iron” objects, i.e. forged.

a blacksmith in his forge, with bellows, fire, and anvil (English woodcut, 1603)

This is the lowest-tech version, possibly going back to ~2000 BCE in Nigeria. If we add bellows, the improved air flow will raise the temperature. So smelting happens faster and more efficiently in the bloomery, and so does heating the iron in the forge, making it easier to work with. And that’s the standard process from the Iron Age all through the middle ages and beyond (although in China they may have skipped this stage and gone straight to the next one).

If we make the bloomery bigger and bigger, with stronger and stronger bellows, we end up with a blast furnace, a construction so efficient that the temperature outright melts the iron, and it’s liquified enough to be poured into a mould and acquire the desired shape when it cools off. This is “cast iron”.

a blast furnace

So in all of this, what’s cold iron? Well, it’s iron that went though the heat and cooled off. (No heat = no iron, all you got is ore.) If it came out of a bloomery, or if it wasn’t cast, it’s by definition worked, hammered, beaten, wrought, and that happened while it was still hot.

Is there such a thing as “cold-wrought” iron? No. In fact, “working cold iron” was a simile for something foolish or pointless. A smith who beats cold iron instead of putting it in the fire shows folly, says a 1694 book on religion, so you too should choose your best tools, piety and good decorum, to educate your children and servants, instead of beating them. When Don Quixote (1605) declares he’ll go knight-erranting again, Sancho Panza tries to dissuade him, but it’s like “preaching in the desert and hammering on cold iron” (a direct translation of martillar en hierro frío).

Minor work can be done on cold iron. A 1710 dictionary of technical terms tells us that a rivetting-hammer is “chiefly used for rivetting or setting straight cold iron, or for crooking of small work; but ’tis seldom used at the forge”. Fully fashioning an object out of cold iron is not a real process – though a 1659 History of the World would claim that in Arabia it’s so hot that “smiths work nails and horseshoes out of cold iron, softened only by the vigorous heat of the sun, and the hard hammering of hands on the anvil”. [I declare myself unqualified to judge the veracity of this statement, let's just say I have doubts.] And there is of course such a thing as “cold wrought-iron”, as in wrought iron after it’s cooled off.

Either way, in the context of pre-20th century English texts which refer to apotropaic “cold iron”, it’s definitely not “cold-wrought”, or meteoritic, or a special alloy of any kind. It’s just iron.

Fiction

The old superstition kept coming up in fantasy fiction. In 1910 Rudyard Kipling wrote the very influential short story “Cold Iron” (in the collection Rewards and Fairies), where he explains invents the details of the fairies’ aversion to iron. They can’t bewitch a child wearing boots, because the boots have nails in the soles. They can’t pass under a doorway guarded by a horseshoe, but they can slip through the backdoor that people neglected to guard. Mortals live “on the near side of Cold Iron”, because there’s iron in every house, while fairies live “on the far side of Cold Iron”, and want nothing to do with it. And changelings brought up by fairies will go back to the world of mortals as soon they touch cold iron for the first time.

In Poul Anderson’s The Broken Sword (1954), we read:

“Let me tell you, boy, that you humans, weak and short-lived and unwitting, are nonetheless more strong than elves and trolls, aye, than giants and gods. And that you can touch cold iron is only one reason.”

In Peter S. Beagle’s The Last Unicorn (1968) the unicorn is imprisoned in an iron cage:

“She turned and turned in her prison, her body shrinking from the touch of the iron bars all around her. No creature of man’s night loves cold iron, and while the unicorn could endure its presence, the murderous smell of it seemed to turn her bones to sand and her blood to rain.”

Poul Anderson would come back to that idea in Operation Chaos (1971), where the worldbuilding’s premise is that magic and magical creatures have been reintroduced into the modern world, because a scientist “discovered he could degauss the effects of cold iron and release the goetic forces”. And that until then, they had been steadily declining, ever since the Iron Age came along.

There are a million examples, I’m just focusing on those that would have had a more direct influence on roleplaying games. However, I should note that all these say “cold iron” but mean “iron”. Yes, the fey call it cold, but they are a poetic bunch. You can’t expect Robin Goodfellow’s words to be pedestrian, now can you?

RPGs

And from there, fantasy roleplaying systems got the idea that Cold Iron is a special material that fey are vulnerable to. The term had been floating around since the early D&D days, but inconsistently, scattered in random sourcebooks, and not necessarily meaning anything else than iron. In 1st Edition’s Monster Manual (1977) it’s ghasts and quasits who are vulnerable to it, not any fey creature. Devils and/or fiends might dislike iron, powdered cold iron is a component in Magic Circle Against Evil, and “cold-wrought iron” makes a couple of appearances. For example, in AD&D it can strike Fool’s Gold and turn it back to its natural state, revealing the illusion.

Then Changeling: The Dreaming came along and made it a big deal, a fundamental rule, and an anathema to all fae:

Cold iron is the ultimate sign of Banality to changelings. ... Its presence makes changelings ill at ease, and cold iron weapons cause horrible, smoking wounds that rob changelings of Glamour and threaten their very existence.... The best way to think about cold iron is not as a thing, but as a process, a very low-tech process. It must be produced from iron ore over a charcoal fire. The resulting lump of black-gray material can then be forged (hammered) into useful shapes. — Changeling: The Dreaming (2nd Edition, 1997)

So now that we know how iron works, does that description make sense? Well, if we assume that the iron ore is unceremoniously dumped on coals, it does not. You can’t smelt iron like that. If we assume that a bloomery is involved even though it’s not mentioned, then yes, this is broadly speaking how iron’s been made since the Iron Age, and until blast furnaces came into the picture. But the World of Darkness isn’t a pseudo-medieval setting, it’s modern urban fantasy. So the implication here is that “cold iron” is iron made the old way: you can’t buy it in the store, someone has to replicate ye olde process and do the whole thing by hand. Now, this is NOT how the term “cold iron” has been used in real life or fiction thus far, but hey, fantasy games are allowed to invent things.

Regardless, 3.5 borrowed the idea, and for the first time D&D made this a core rule. Now most fey creatures had damage reduction and took less damage from weapons and natural attacks, unless the weapon was made of Cold Iron:

“This iron, mined deep underground, known for its effectiveness against fey creatures, is forged at a lower temperature to preserve its delicate properties.” — Player’s Handbook (3.5 Edition, 2003)

Pathfinder kept the rule, though 5e did not. And unlike Changeling, this definition left it somewhat ambiguous if we’re talking about a material with special composition (i.e. not iron) or made with a special process (i.e. iron but). The community was divided, threads were locked over this!

So until someone points me to new evidence, I’ll assume that the invention of cold iron as a special material, distinct from plain iron, should be attributed to TTRPGs.

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shenanigans-and-imagines · 4 months

Note

ANGST WARNING: How would Ace!Tav react to Astarion dying and being unable to revive him? Or vice versa -- how would Astarion react?

A/N: There is actually a lot to this, so here is a headcanon in three parts. Apologies for the length.

Warnings: Gore, Blood, Passively Suicidal Thoughts, Major Character Death, Heavy Angst

Astarion x Ace!Tav Masterlist

How Ace!Tav Would React to Astarion Dying and Unable to be Revived

In order for this to happen, it would be sudden and unexpected

There would be no preparing for his death

They always thought Astarion would outlive them, he's an immortal vampire, but, more importantly, he's a survivor, always has been

I'm thinking he'd have to be burned up in the sun or something else like it; revivify and raise dead both require a body and the sun would turn him into ash

Maybe he gets caught by surprise, maybe Tav can’t get to him in time or maybe he pushed them out of the way of a blast; the result is the same

No final words, no last touches, there’s nothing left, not even a body

Tav wouldn’t be able to move, the rest of the world going fuzzy at the edges and silent

It would take another party to get them to move, literally dragging them away from the scene like dead weight

It’s takes them several moments to come to their senses, to fight back because he can’t just be gone

There has to be something left, something they could use to bring him back

If it’s an ally with them then they’d hold them back telling them they need to get somewhere safe

They would be in full denial, trying desperately to think of something, anything, this can’t be how it ends

But there’s nothing, not a single thing they can do

Once that realization dawns, they just go numb

They spent so much of their life just surviving; they don’t want to go back to that, not when they finally had a taste of what it was to live

They’re just so tired, maybe it would be easier to just…sleep

Even the thought of revenge is too daunting, what would be the point? Astarion would still be gone. Can’t they just rest?

It would take their friends to pull them out of it

I imagine Lae’zel and Shadowheart specifically would lay into them about just giving up. What would Astarion say if he saw them like this?

Tag can well imagine, they can all but hear his voice in their ear

“And you call me dramatic,” he tells them. “Flattering as it is to know you miss me, there's still work to be done. Now get up.”

They want to ignore the words, but they have their own survival instincts to contend with

It’s a slow process

The first several months it’s an ordeal just to eat, but they do

Gale, Shadowheart, Wyll, Karlach, Lae’zel, they all take turns checking in, making sure they’re okay

Gale maybe even has them come to stay in Waterdeep just to keep a better eye on them and keep them away from the memories associated with Baldur’s Gate

It’s a kind gesture and one that slowly starts to pay off

They're able to watch a sunrise again without the urge to weep

They sometimes come in to talk during Gale's lectures, recounting some of their exploits with a smile

They never fully recover, their music isn’t quite as lively, there seems to be a spark missing behind their eyes, but they find a way to survive

They have their friends and find solace in knowing they’re not alone

Eventually they go on the road again, taking in every sight and sound, imaging Astarion seeing it with them

They never fall in love again, they knew that they never would and don’t try to force it

Still, they live; it’s brutal work, but they can’t stop now

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying of Old Age Edition)

Couple different options with this one

I picture Ace!Tav as human, so Astarion outliving them was part of the deal when they got together

All the same Ace!Tav dying of old age vs. dying suddenly and horribly, are going to spark two very different reactions

If they die of old age, Astarion has a much longer time to prepare

There's no hiding getting old, even if Astarion makes jokes about them being with a man four or three times their age

Tav is there to help him through it, even as they're lying on their death bed with him beside them the entire time

They don't want him to try and bring them back; they told him as much

They want him to keep going, to keep living, to find love again after they're gone

Astarion doesn't want to hear it, he doesn't want to think about them being gone even when they both know it's coming

One human life time wasn't nearly enough, he wants more, he always wants more

But the end does come and when Tav finally slips away, all he can do is weep

He wouldn't be alone though, he has friends, strange as it might have once been to admit

Gale, Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, and Lae'zel would all find their own way to help him as they too grieve the loss of their friend

He's not the easiest to deal with, he lashes out, he argues, he pushes, he finds himself crying at unexpected moments and mortified at himself for doing so

He wishes he could talk to Tav about all these emotions drowning him and ends up curled up on the floor all over again

But somebody is there to help him back up again

He can’t stay in their home anymore, too many memories bombard him every waking moment

Gale offers for him to come to Waterdeep for a time, but Astarion refuses

He needs to get out, go somewhere far away, someplace he’s never been before

So, one day, he packs a bag and just starts walking

The only thing of Tav’s he takes is a that damned violin, they did try so very hard to teach him how to play, but he always was a better audience

Still he can’t bring himself to leave it behind

He doesn’t know where he’s going or what he’s even doing, but he keeps going anyway

One of the nights, months into his travels, a bard plays at the inn where he's staying

He recognizes the melody, one of Tav's compositions

He had finally convinced Tav to write down some of their music, and even publish a few; this one isn't one of them

The bard plays it differently, emphasizing different words and finding a new meaning while still keeping the integrity of the song

He can all but hear Tav’s contemplative approval as they grin in that “I told you so” sort of way

The best ones live in memory after all

The bard is good, reminding him of Tav in so many different ways

He's not sure what exactly possess him to do it, but he offers them the violin, telling them that it's been a long time since he saw somebody play it properly, maybe they'd like a go

Gods do they play it,

Light and music flow from the instrument, evoking the same vivid display Tav had show him all those years ago

Astarion then leaves without a word, leaving the violin behind for the bard to take

He finally understands what Tav tried to explain to him, how much of themselves they put into their music and how even as the interpretations may change it’s still them

So, he keeps going, keeping their memory alive in what ways he can, mostly as an anonymous patron to promising young bards; he’s always been a better audience anyway

Years later he even meets that first bard, the one he gifted the violin; they turned to be a great performer and was thankful to finally track down the man who put them on that path

They form a true friendship, one that lasts years and allows Astarion to know he can form new relationships

Slowly, Tav's death doesn’t hurt the way it used to

They’ll never fully leave his heart; they were his first in so many ways

It would take him years, possibly even centuries to finally fulfill that final promise to love again, but he does

He’s a survivor by nature, but Gods does it feel good to live

How Astarion Would React to Ace!Tav Dying and Unable to be Revived (Dying Suddenly and Horribly Edition)

This can only end in blood

They're in a middle of a battle, something bigger and worse than they anticipated

Both are skilled in their own way, but they each know their strength lies in stealth and surprise, neither of which they have facing this threat

Astarion was sure they were safe, he was watching their back and vice versa as they had for years

He doesn't see exactly what happens, all he knows is one moment his love was standing in front of him and the next, they're pulp on the floor

Air leaves his lungs, the rest of the world fades as all that exist is their blood in his nose and their desecrated body and then everything goes red

He uses everything at his disposal, knives, nails, teeth; more blood fills the air, his body is covered in it to the point he can't even grip his daggers and just uses his teeth

He doesn't stop until the only thing breathing in the room is him

He then goes to Tav's body, and wraps what's left of it in any cloth he can find; he's not leaving them here, there has to be a way to fix it, to bring them back

He finds a place he can keep them, using what magic he can to preserve the remains of their body until he can find a better solution

He reaches out to any contact he has begging for help, surely their friends would come to their aid

What he gets is all but useless, no answers, no solutions, nothing but empty apologies and condolences

They even have the audacity to them him to let Tav go

They don't understand, they never could

After everything he'd been through, Tav was the first real happiness he found; 200 years of torture and just six months with them was enough to counterweight all that misery

He'd had years since then, and now they were just gone

How could anyone expect him to let that go, not when he had expected a life time with them

Their time together was already limited, he would not be cheated into giving up more; the world didn't get to do that to him

He curses his so called friends, burying himself in necromancy and tomes trying to find a solution

There may still be a way, a much darker way, one that would require sacrifice, but it would be worth it whatever the price

He knew that about himself the moment he started to fall for Tav, there was no telling what things he'd be willing to do, all for them

There is a part of him that hesitates, a little voice inside his head telling him to stop, that he can be better

It's the same voice that told him not to ascend, one he curses just as deeply as the rest of them

If he had ascended none of this would have happened; he would have been able to keep Tav safe, he could have made it so not even time could touch them

He had hesitated then, but he won't now

He'll find a way to bring them back and make sure they never leave him again

#astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x ace!tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion ancunin #asexual!tav #bard!tav #astarion x reader #asexual!reader #astarion headcanons #astarion x evie

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biibini · 3 months

Note

Could you possibly write hcs for Mizu properly introducing reader to her adoptive father for the first time??? I'm curious as to how that would play out :3

modern!mizu x reader meets eiji for the first time

tags: modern mizu, mizu & reader in relationship, meeting the parents trope, meeting the parent?, eiji is mizu’s adopted father, kohama is staged around the pacific northwest, heidi shindo &blood-soaked chiaki mentioned, TW: m*k*o, author needs to eat before she writes

a/n: ok for some reason i cant edit my drafts on my phone bc of gifs :( ima get thru these asks fr,, hope yall like the show references teehee

when u and modern!mizu first got together, u guys figured u would take it slow

it was mizu’s first relationship out of a toxic one

and u didn’t mind the slow pace

going on dates, hanging out, relaxing together

it was a blast

until one day u guys were out downtown, having a lil cafe date

and one of eiji’s clients recognized mizu as u hopped on the back of her motorcycle, zooming off to get lunch

modern!mizu ends up getting an unexpected phone call from her adopted dad

they keep in touch every few days

but she had just called him yesterday

Mizu was lying on her bed, scrolling through her phone. Her homework lies on her desk, ready to be done.

She groans in frustration and gently throws the phone down.

Ok, enough scrolling. Let’s get shit done-

Her phone starts to vibrate. Mizu flips the phone to spot the contact name “Swordfather”. The contact name is paired with a 0.5 selfie of him winning against Mizu. It continued to vibrate on Mizu's bed.

That’s odd. I just called him yesterday.

“Hey dad, whats up?”, Mizu answer.

“Who’s in the back of your bike?”, he yells into the phone.

“How- who- what are you talking-“

“Mr. Shindo come to me earlier today.” He starts, stern and loud, “He say he saw you with girl behind you on bike.”

Mr. Shindo was a regular at Eiji’s Repair Shop ever since Mizu was young. A man with temper and sass, he only trusted Eiji with his services. But with sass came a lot of gossip. Mizu wouldn’t believe the amount of drama happening the neighborhood if it wasn’t for Mr.Shindo’s loud mouth.

“Ok dad, I know it’s a girl but-“

“And he say he saw you hold hands! And drive off?!”, Eiji yelled with concern.

Mizu never really heard him this loud. There was the occasional disagreement and arguments about the Sunday game or who’s cooking for dinner. It was just banter at the most.

When Mizu told him about Mikio and why she left him & all his problems, he stayed calm and silent. Not many words were said when she admitted everything he did during the relationship. But it was comforting to know that her adopted dad was there, quietly listening to her sobs at the dining table.

“I know it’s not a guy but-“

“Guy, girl I do no care. Who is she?”

Mizu was stunned. Yeah, her dad’s English wasn’t the best but his words hit deep. The only time he pulled out the “I don’t care” in her lifetime was a foul customer.

A man by the name of Chiaki was on his knees close to closing hours, begging on his knees for Eiji to fix his motorcycle in hopes to make it faster. After constant days of his begging and pleading during open & closing, Eiji took it into his shop. After countless days of watching her dad attempt to fix the customer’s bike, Chiaki started criticizing and called him an “decrepit old man unable to fix shit”. Mizu wanted to rock his shit but her dad stopped her before she could.

“I may be old, but I do no care. Leave with your piece of shit you call a bike.”, Eiji said as Chiaki sped off, flipping the bird as he sent off.

"Mizu? You there?, Eiji asks. Mizu snaps back to reality.

"Yeah?"

"You tired of guys now, ha?"

Mizu scoffed, laughing at the unexpected response. She hears a hearty chuckle through the phone.

"Yeah yeah.", Mizu sighs in relief, "She's my girlfriend. Her name is Y/N.", Mizu answered, a blush blooming on her face.

"Ah good. Next time you come home, bring her. I'll make my barbeque special.", Eiji says lightheartedly.

Mizu's eyes lit up. It had been a while since she visited home. And to be greeted with the smell of her dad's honey BBQ baby back ribs and juicy prime rib? Yeah, she was sold.

"I will. I'll let you know when I'll visit."

"And Mizu?"

"Yes, Dad?"

"She take good care of you?", he asks in a concerned tone.

MIzu smiles, knowing the slow burn of confusion, hatred, and rage he witnessed over the many years. He was present during her silent middle school self, her angsty & stubborn teenage years, and her confused & rage-filled self during her previous relationship.

She looks at the wall where a photobooth strip of you two hung. It was during one of your exploring the city dates when you two found a vintage photo booth. A little dusty but it did the job of capturing you two together.

"Yes. Yes, she does, dad."

later that week, u get a text msg from mizu asking if u are free for the weekend

thinking it was another weekend date, u clear out ur schedule

and then she texts u its ab coming home w her for the weekend and see her dad

this was kinda out of nowhere

it rlly threw u off

it has been a few months now...

so yk what

maybe it is time u say hi

that friday u get on her motorcycle and ride to her hometown

its only an hr out but seeing the change from a college town to a smaller town felt like another world

You feel the motorcycle slow down as you head towards the exit. The wind calms down as you pass by the welcome sign to Kohama. As you go down the exit, you look out. Down below is a winding path to the seaside town. The town hangs next to a cliff. From your point of view, you could spot the deep blue ocean shimmers as Mizu takes you down the road.

She goes at a slower pace, taking in the familiar sights she left behind: the tall pine trees, a long coastline as far as the eye can see, and boulders scattering the beaches every once in a while. She rolls up to a stop sign and lifts her visor up.

"Smells like home."

You mimic her motions, lifting yours as well. The faint scent of sea salt mixed with the cool breeze from the ocean.

With both of you refreshed, Mizu continued along the path towards the middle of town.

u guys roll into her neighborhood

the houses share a similar bungalow-style

only changing in shades of color

however, something caught ur eye

well

more like ur nose

the smell of sweet barbeque caught ur attention

mizu immediately knew it was her dad cooking it up

meeting modern!mizu’s dad aka swordfather was a lil awkward

when u first arrived, he was busy in the back barbecuing and taking care of the dinner tonight

so u didnt meet him until u fully entered the house

hes busy in the back barbequing

and he does see u but the only thing he knows ab u is that ur dating his daughter

“Dad?”, Mizu calls through the house. You follow her footsteps down the hallway. She then opens the backdoor at the end, the midday shining into the hallway.

The sun blinds you for a second. You see a growing backyard with bushes aligning the fence. Tucked in the corner lied a storage shed surrounded by bikes and a few spare tires. Next to the shed is a grill in use, smoke coming out of the vent.

“I’m here Mizu.” An elderly voice called, his back facing you.

He turns around, a faint pout on his face. His eyes squinting from the harsh midday sun.

“You bring girlfriend?”

Mizu grins at her dad’s comment. She looks back at you and softly grabs your hand, pulling you next to her.

“This is Y/N.”

You smiled, waving at Mizu’s father. You know he’s not a bad guy, just a badass through Mizu’s stories of back home. However, you’re still anxious underneath your pleasing demeanor.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.”

You look up to meet his gaze. Old, tired eyes stare back. Stern but not mean or cruel. Amiable. You could only wonder how much wisdom he has behind those eyes.

“Nice to meet you. I am Eiji.”

He waves back, awkwardly smiling as he tends to the grill. The interaction had a striking similarity to when you first met Mizu: cordial, dry, and a little awkward.

Like father, like daughter, you suppose.

after introducing urself, mizu lets eiji cook

(LET HIM COOK ‼️‼️)

when ur making sides together in the kitchen, he gets a glimpse of how u guys act together

and he watches u help mizu make the sides like mac & cheese, baked potatoes, biscuits, and stir fried green beans

typically, he would be helping her cook

but seeing u help her mix the macaroni

and mizu helping u cut the green beans

hes a proud man and feels safe knowing mizu is ok

when mizu pops into the bathroom, he checks in on the cooking

You put on the red and blue mitts and carefully place the mac and cheese into the oven. You feel the fiery heat of the oven against your forearms.

“How is cooking going?”

You close the oven and look behind to find Eiji. You nod in response.

“It’s going good! We’re almost done.”, you say as you move to the side. He gets a view of your work with Mizu: a plate of stir fried garlic string beans with crispy fried onions, a stack of baked potatoes along with bowls of toppings portioned by Mizu, Red Lobster cheddar bay biscuits, and the max and cheese that’s currently baking.

“Thank you for inviting me over and letting me stay.”, you say politely as you put the mittens away.

He nods back, a small smile forming around his lips.

The conversation falls short. A silence fills the air.

For a little too long.

It’s almost uncomfortable to breath, let alone talk, in the kitchen.

“Ribs are almost done. Please help set tables with me.”

You follow his request and help him with the plates and utensils.

“You know,”, You look up from the dinner table, giving Eiji your attention. “I did not know Mizu would bring girlfriend back.”

He chuckled as he looked back at you. You hear the emphasis on “girl” and laughed along. After hearing about Mizu’s previous relationship during the beginning of your relationship, you started to understand her ways.

And now, you understood why Eiji was awkward earlier in the day. When Mizu first met you, it was anxiousness meeting you. For Eiji, it was out of concern from Mizu’s past.

“Yeah, I’m probably not what you expected.”, you tease.

A hearty laugh comes out of Eiji. You feel the heaviness in the room lifts.

“But I’ll be here for her. I plan to, don’t worry.”, you reassure him. As serious as you sound, it was all true.

He hums in agreement. He puts down the final fork and walks over to the stir-fried green beans. His fingers reach for a string bean and tastes your cooking.

“Mm. You are honest.”, he pauses as he takes another bite. “You also make mean green beans.”

You snort, the compliment catching you off guard.

“Mean green beans?”, you question. You take a bean from the plate.

He nods.

Mean green beans…

while u and eiji are having a moment,

modern!mizu is listening to all of this go down

she tries not to smile when she comes back into the kitchen

but on the inside, she’s relieving hes getting along with u

once u and mizu help set the food on the table, its feasting time

ik for a fact that those baby back ribs are dangerously juicy

practically ripping off the bone

and with that honey bbq sauce???

and not to mention the prime rib??????

perfectly cooked

super tender

u can literally taste thyme, rosemary, and garlic with every juicy bite

(i shouldnt be writing this while im hungry)

u all enjoy a delicious dinner

afterwards, modern!mizu would give u a detailed tour of her childhood home

her fencing trophies lined up in the living room

and hallway

and bedroom

eiji didnt always say it but he was proud

if u couldnt tell already

when u guys went out to the backyard, u spot eiji working on a motorcycle in the shed

its not the biggest shed

but a closer look inside painted a pic of who he was

him on a motorcycle w his friends when he was much younger

a framed pic of a lil mizu on her scooter with him on a motorcycle, both vehicles with matching colors

the grand opening of eiji’s car shop

young mizu at the beach nearby

another of teenage mizu holding her keys and next to a blue 2004 toyota camry

u laughed and pointed it out

eiji chuckling along w u and describing the picture as mizu’s first drive after getting her license at age 16

she looks so much younger but u giggle at the scowl

on the other hand, modern!mizu is kinda embarrassed from her high school self

as crazy and insane and stubborn as she was, it was a big moment for her and for eiji

her girl could finally drive

and she got her first taste of freedom

did she cringe as u stared and laughed at how different she looked? yeah

but at least eiji isnt reminicising alone

#modern au #mizu bes #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x reader #bes mizu #blue eye samurai #mizu x y/n #mizu headcanons #blue eye samurai mizu #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #modern mizu #modern mizu x reader #blue eye samurai modern #master eiji #heidi shindo #mikio blue eye samurai

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radiofreederry · 7 months

Text

Dorothy's Top 5 Games of 2023

2023 was a remarkable year for gaming. The number of major, high-quality releases was truly astonishing, both in the AAA and indie scenes.

2023 was also the year I started leaning more into gaming as a hobby, beginning to do Twitch streams in April. Because of this, I thought I'd go through a few of the best games I played this year, and talk a bit about what made them so enjoyable. Consider this my "games of the year" list, like I know so many people are going to be doing this year.

My list is reflective of my own preferences and tastes; I tend to play a lot of RPGs, action-adventure games, and platformers, so you won't find a lot of fighting games or shooters in contention here. Feel free to comment or reblog with your own list - you don't have to write little essays about everything like I did, but it'd be fun if you did!

Honorable Mentions:

Pentiment (Obsidian Entertainment): Released in November 2022, but didn't play until this year. One of the most gripping and original RPGs I've ever played.

Persona 5 Royal (P-Studio): Released in October 2022 for Xbox, but I've been streaming it and having a lot of fun with @lakemojave and others.

Katamari Damacy Reroll (Namco): Released in 2018 for Switch, but played it for the first time this year and had a blast.

And now, the list proper.

Fifth Place: Hi-Fi Rush (Tango Gameworks)

There was a sort of game prevalent in the sixth generation of consoles which doesn't exist much anymore outside of the indie space. These were bold, bright, games which were unapologetically "video gamey," and wore their medium on their sleeve. Playing Hi-Fi Rush, I felt as if I was Anton Ego eating the titular dish in Ratatouille, and being transported back to that forgotten era of gaming. Hi-Fi Rush is stylish, hilarious, and deliriously fun, mixing the rhythm and action genres to create an experience unlike anything else currently on offer in gaming.

With addicting timing-based combat, a killer soundtrack featuring a suite of certified bangers (such as a cover of "Free Radicals" by the Flaming Lips, one of my favorite bands), and a delightful cast of colorful characters, Hi-Fi Rush carries the off-beat spirit of games like Jet Set Radio and Viewtiful Joe in its DNA, and had it been made 20 years ago, I do not doubt that it would have an animated adaptation airing on Kids WB.

By evoking the spirit of a bygone era while remaining utterly unique, and by virtue of its slick presentation and impossible-to-put-down gameplay, Hi-Fi Rush manages to punch far above its own weight and snag fifth place on my list.

Fourth Place: A Highland Song (Inkle)

A Highland Song came out of nowhere at the tail-end of the year and forced me to completely reevalute my game rankings. It is one of the most delightful and charming games I've ever had the chance to play, and has managed to do what I thought was impossible: create a roguelike experience that I actually want to see through to completion.

A Highland Song does this through its emotive embrace of the Scottish Highlands as a setting, with those ancient hills acting as both the main antagonist and a stalwart companion in main character Moira's journey to cross the mountains and reach her uncle's lighthouse by the First of May.

The Highlands are your dear friend. They will provide you food, shelter, and the tools you need to complete your journey. The Highlands are your worst enemy. They will deny you a safe haven when you're exhausted, out of energy, and being soaked through by torrential, bitterly-cold rain; they will give you tools long after you've passed the point where they would have been useful. The hills will preserve you. The hills will kill you.

It is in these contrasts that A Highland Song shines. It is a game about finding yourself, and pushing forward in the face of impossible adversity. There is an indescribable joy to spending days in-game exploring a section of the Highlands, trying to find the way forward, and finally running through one of the game's rhythm-based sections, triumphant Celtic folk music blaring in your ears as you finally find your way. All the while, Uncle Hamish's warm, fond recollections of Celtic folklore and Moira's descriptions of her family life make you want to push on, to learn more about this magical place and the people who inhabit it.

You will not make it to the sea in time in your first run through A Highland Song, nor likely your second or third. Yet each time Moira passes through the mountains, you learn more about them, become more familiar with the slopes and pathways that carve through these lands that are older than time. You will stumble, you will fall, and then, eventually, you will make it to the sea by Beltane.

Third Place: The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (Nintendo EPD)

How do you follow up one of the most important and well-regarded games of the 2010s, improve almost everything about it, and even correct its flaws? Tears of the Kingdom manages that and then some. The direct sequel to 2017's Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom follows that game's version of series lead Link through a melancholy journey through a world ravaged by unnatural weather, blight, and time. Link is himself nearly torn apart by the corrupting influence of returning series antagonist Ganondorf (voiced in this installment in fine fashion by Matt Mercer), and the hastily replaced arm granted to him by the sage Rauru grants him new abilities, which replace and improve upon the ones he possessed in the last game.

With these new powers, the game becomes a truly open sandbox. Link is able to build almost anything with his Ultrahand ability, and the Fuse ability not only virtually eliminates the previous game's major flaw, its weapon durability system, by allowing the player to turn virtually any weapon top-tier by properly leveraging fusion materials, it also creates a resource management loop that discourages being stingy with strong resources - since they can be used to create very powerful weapons. Meanwhile, the Ascend and Recall abilities open new avenues in traversal and speed up exploration through Tear's of the Kingdom's massive map, which not only uses the previous game's world map as a base - with lots of altered and added locations to signify the passage of time, including a host of explorable caves - but more than doubles it by also adding floating islands in the sky and a dark, hostile undergound below.

The intense focus on exploration, not to mention some of the best dungeons and bosses in Zelda history, make this a game I had genuine trouble putting down at times as I sunk hundreds of hours into it, as I always felt like there was something new to find around the next corner, or some new treasure to find deep in the underground. Tears of the KIngdom is a masterclass in crafting an open world experience, and easily secures a spot in my top five. It only places so low on this list as a consequence of some blemishes on an otherwise extremely polished and technically impressive product - specifically its story and progression, which feels too much like retreading the structure of Breath of the Wild and not enough like it's blazing its own trail.

Second Place: Cyberpunk 2077 (CD Projekt Red)

Let's get this out of the way first: Cyberpunk 2077 originally released, infamously, in late 2020 in what was essenitally an unfinished state. However, with its 2.0 update that fundamentally restructures how the game is played, as well as the massive Phantom Liberty expansion dropping this year, I feel comfortable regarding this game as a 2023 release.

I didn't expect to have Cyberpunk 2077 on this list. I certainly didn't expect to see it so high on this list. And yet, here it is. I went in with almost no expectations, and came out with one of my favorite games of the year, and one of the most thoughtful RPGs of the decade. Cyberpunk 2077's great strengths lie in its richly detailed game world and its extremely strong writing, both of which impressed me beyond any preconceptions I may have had, especially given how the game originally launched as a broken, buggy mess.

Cyberpunk 2077's Night City is as fully realized a game world as I've ever seen, brimming with detail and things to both see and do. It is incredibly immersive, and I often found myself forgoing the game's fast travel system in order to simply cruise the moody, neon-soaked streets on my motorcycle as I sped from one gig to the next, taking in little details like the ethnic enclaves in different districts, or how infrastructure differed in poor areas compared to rich ones.

Cyberpunk 2077 tells a story about struggling against impossible odds, and finding hope and beauty in a hopeless and ugly world. In a future where capitalism's atomization and hyperindividualization rend the flesh of society at-large, the life of protagonist V is enriched through the human connections they are able to make as they race against time to save themselves from the biochip in their head eating away at their existence - a piece of technology stolen and then impulsively inserted during their first big job, a job taken in pursuit of the ephemeral and ambiguous glory that comes with being a legend of Night City. Their deteriorating condition throughout the game, and the ever-present acidic commentary of rockerboy Johnny Silverhand, serve as constant reminders of the folly of chasing such impermanent glory.

Whether it's Johnny's former bandmate Kerry, whose insecurities lead him to ostentatious acts of violence and destruction, or Judy, who has suffered loss after loss and desperately tries to find a situation she can control and someone who won't use or leave her, my journey as V centered around finding these connections, and using them not only to save V's life, but preserve her humanity. These themes carried through with the Phantom Liberty expansion, which explores such topics as freedom, survivor's guilt, and governmental corruption and exploitation, and features a delightful turn by Idris Elba as a weary government agent burdened by regret. There are plenty of bombastic setpieces, cleverly-written quests, and moments of intense action, but the things I think I'll always remember are quiet, intimate, human moments, from sitting with and comforting a girl whose girlfriend just killed herself, or meditating with a monk who has no ulterior motive but to bring V a rest in the midst of a grueling situation.

All that to say that while I had a lot of fun with the gameplay, the game world and the writing were what made me fall in love with Cyberpunk 2077, what will likely keep me coming back to the game on replay, and what landed it at number two on the list. The only reason it didn't end up at number one was because there's just one game I played this year which impressed me just that much more - and even then, it’s a thin margin.

First Place: Baldur's Gate 3 (Larian Studios)

Here I must confess not only have I never played the original Baldur's Gate games - early works by BioWare, a company whose work I generally respect - I had until this year never touched Dungeons and Dragons or any ancillary media. Total blind spot! Never even saw the movie this year! I'd played plenty of tabletop, but never any DnD.

What a treat, then, to be introduced to the world and mechanics of DnD through such a game as Baldur's Gate 3. This game glistens with careful and thoughtful design, and proves the vibrancy and potential that still remains in the classic CRPG style. Baldur's Gate 3's great strengths shine in two major areas, which I will go in more detail about now.

Firstly, the game offers a truly remarkable amount of freedom to the player in allowing them to resolve a situation in a myriad of ways, emulating the flexible nature of tabletop storytelling to an extent I've rarely seen in the video game medium. Want to defeat a boss that's giving you grief by running up to him and shoving him off a cliff? Sure, that works! Want to stealthily surround an enemy camp with explosive barrels and then cast fireball? Ok, go for it!

The other side of this coin is that the game permits a lot of flexibility in permitting the player to truly fuck up royally, while keeping the narrative going and not forcing them into a game over because they "played wrong." Took too long to save some gnomes from a cave-in? Too bad, they suffocated to death! Allowed an important NPC, whose spell was protecting a community from a curse, to be defeated in battle and captured? Tough luck, all those people have died a horrible, agonizing death! It's your fault! Now keep moving. In Baldur's Gate 3, all of your decisions, good or bad, have consequences, and you have to live with them.

Baldur's Gate 3's other great strength lies in its character writing. Every major character, and many minor characters, are written with such depth and nuance, with varied motivations, backstories, and moral alignments, which the player can both influence and be influenced by. Notable standouts include Astarion, the cynical vampire whose acid tongue is a defense mechanism to not let anyone get too close and who delights in thumbing his nose at others and seeking power for himself, but who can be guided towards a more empathetic and caring place; and Shadowheart, the cleric of the dark goddess Shar who finds herself torn between what she sees as her duty to her goddess and what she knows deep down to be the right thing to do.

Every character in Baldur's Gate 3 has a story to tell, and they're all good ones. That alone would land it on this list, but combined with the astonishing freedom it allows players and its infinite replayability rocket it to the top spot. Baldur's Gate 3 is my game of the year.

#long post #game of the year #goty #cyberpunk 2077 #baldur's gate 3 #tears of the kingdom #hi fi rush #my writing #star wars

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tarotwithavi · 1 year

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What is coming for you soon?

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

How to choose a pile?

Take a deep breath and close your eyes. Kindly ask your spirit guides to show you the right pile for yourself and then open your eyes. Whichever pile catches your attention is the right pile for you.

Masterlist

Paid services

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Pile 1

Expect a new job offer if you're unsatisfied with your current job.

If you have been feeling down lately expect to have a blasting time by yourself.

I'm seeing a new relationship. For some it is going to be a soulmate relationship .

If you like gothic things , I'm seeing that you're going to buy the things you have been searching for.

Someone you have been thinking about is going to come to you. This person may have disappointed you in the past.

I'm seeing the completion of a difficult cycle. Your health is going to improve in the next 30 days.

I'm also seeing an ending here but don't worry this is going to be for the best of you.

You may get invited to a wedding and let me tell you, you're going to have a grand time there.

People who have done you dirty are going to get their karma and they may come to you with an apology. It's up to you if you want to forgive them or not.

You're going to receive an unexpected present from someone. This present may be something you have always wanted.

Please help

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Pile 2

Do you know you have been watched pile 2? A lot of people have their eyes one you.

You're going to shine in your work setting and people will start to recognize for who you ate.

If you have participated in a competition or something expect positive response. Either you'll top or people will recognize you even if you don't win.

A lot of people will come to you , they would want to be your friend but be careful not all of them will have good motives.

All your hard work is going to pay off in the next month and all your manifestations are going to come true.

You may feel burdened by all the responsibilities on your shoulder but don't worry everything is going to work out.

A new person is entering your life and they will bring you stability.

If your family has been going through financial issues, I'm seeing that your father's job/business is going to pay him more.

You may change places/home/schools and this change is going to be very sudden.

Exactly 10 days from when you read his pac, some good news will come to you.

Please help

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Pile 3

You may get to meet your old friends. They are going to reach out to you soon.

I'm also seeing an end of a relationship/friendship that was toxic for you.

You're a magnet to good things right now my pile 3. Ask and you shall receive.

I'm also seeing an exciting event for you . Some of you may get invited to a certain event and you'll cherish the memories of this event forever.

I'm seeing that some of you may have been working on a project for a couple of months now, I'm am getting that you will achieve great success in it.

Someone may try to send you the evil eyes or is sending you right now. You are being told to protect yourself and your people.

One of your friends/someone in your circle is talking about you behind your back. This person is distrustful.

I'm getting that some of you may need to change your furniture or you might renovate your house/room.

Try to eat more vegetables and fruits because if don't get proper nutrition you may get sick in the upcoming days.

You may travel somewhere in the summer. This vacation will bring you balance and relax your mind.

Please help

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

Pile 4

If you have applied for a scholarship, you're going to receive the email soon and results will be in your favor.

You're being told to trust your intuition or gut feeling in regards to new people entering your life.

You will be guided by your guardian angels, no need to be so stressed out.

Someone might criticize your work, don't be mad at them try to understand why they are criticising you.

I'm seeing a huge physical glow up for you. People are going to be stunned by your beauty.

You might get a vision about the future. Don't ignore this message, it can help you in challenging times.

The efforts you're putting in your work is not enough for it to achieve the success you want it to. Increase your efforts a little.

Some people might try to bring you down because of their own insecurity, don't lower your standards because of them.

Don't sign any documents without reading through it first. Even if itst from someone you trust wholeheartedly.

If someone has betrayed you once, they'll betray you again when they get the chance to. DON'T EVER TRUST THEM AGAIN.

Wear more green to attract abundance. And take care of your feet.

Please help

.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・.・。.・゜✭・

#pick a crystal #pick a gif #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #pac tarot #tarot cards #tarot #oracle reading #predictions #tarot deck #tarot readings #free readings #free tarot

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lovemyavatar · 1 year

Text

Pull - a Push Mini Epilogue

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

@halibanana requested: Oo! It's so good! Can I request a part 2 where they resolve how he ignored her? I'd love to see their relationship evolve!

Summary: I love a good grovel

Warnings: fluff, (aged up) nsfw, oral (fem receiving), jealousy, slight angst, poor bby Neteyam is on the struggle bus fr

Equilibrium

Being with Neteyam is like swimming at first morning light.

In the beginning, the water is freezing. It prickles your skin, chills your bones, sends a shiver up your spine. Then, gradually—sometimes without notice—it warms. It envelopes you, soothing tense muscles and unfurling clenched digits. But, the second you leave the precious cocoon of serenity, the breeze hits your skin and you're trembling all over again.

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan is an enigma.

He's soft edges, smooth skin, tender embraces. When you're alone, he can't keep his hands off of you. In those private moments, he pulls you in close, back against his chest, and simply adores you. He's gentle, lips and fingers caressing glowing freckles so lightly, you wonder if it's all a dream.

In front of the clan, however, it's as if another being inhabits his body entirely. The weight of expectation forces your loving Neteyam to retreat, replaced with a cool indifference that makes your heart sink.

It's not like before he claimed you. His eyes don't narrow into that challenging glare anymore. He doesn't prod you with sly insults, or watch your every move with distain. He simply goes about his business, a confident assurance that now he has you.

Sometimes, you wish for the malice. Then, at least, you'd be getting something.

His love slips through the perfected restraint occasionally. Like one day, when you were practicing a new technique with your bow. He happened to walk by, gaze instantly zeroing in on you. He came in close, murmuring a low hello, sevin (pretty) beside your ear, hand snaking around your middle from behind.

Your lips barely had time to pull into a soft smile before he retreated, the sight of a few clan members cutting through the trees enough to make him recoil. You frowned, turning to scold the odd behavior, but he was already gone.

And another day, you sat beside Kiri, weaving and talking quietly. He saw you through a gap in the vines, and quickly changed course to greet you. He approached carefully, a big grin splitting his face. He started to say something that sounded like ma narlor (beautiful). The moment his eyes glanced past his sister, his back straightened, expression dropping to one of casual familiarity.

It eats at you, a nasty, ugly feeling knotting your stomach. This dance has gone on for three weeks. In the last twenty-one days since he made you his, you've been pushed away, then pulled back in, a never-ending cycle of hurt and comfort.

You've started slipping into that old way of thinking, before the two of you crossed an imperceptible line. When you were calculated, when you decided you would get his attention one way or another, no matter what it took. No matter who you had to use.

That's what led you to the situation you're currently in.

You had to admit, though a tiny flame of guilt still flickered inside your chest, that you were having a blast.

Your face tilts toward the sky, a joyous laugh bubbling in your chest. One hand firmly grips the place where your queue is connected with your Ikran's, the other thrown up to feel strong wind blow through extended fingers. The animal swoops down at your internal command, narrowly missing the other, slightly smaller beast flying beside you.

“Hey!” A rough voice shouts, shakily leveling out.

Big yellow eyes narrow in your direction, irritation twinkling beneath the surface. He guides his own Ikran closer to yours, and she calls out before twisting in a graceful barrel roll above the clouds.

“Gotta be faster than that, Lo'ak!” The taunt floats over the wind as you speed past him, a boyish grin splitting his lips before he chases after you.

You play this game of cat and mouse until the sun's eclipse is nearly complete. Only then do you set course for home. Truthfully, when Lo'ak asked you to fly with him, you didn't intend on staying out so late. You didn't even want to agree at first, but the thought of doing something slightly risky, slightly forbidden made your heart flutter with excitement.

It was low, using the well-established competition between brothers to your advantage. But the thought of getting a rise out of Neteyam for the first time in weeks justified the potential consequences.

The second you land, he's barreling through the trees. His eyes find yours first, then Lo'ak's as his Ikran lands beside you. His brows are pinched, hands clenched into tight fists at his hips. Heat blazes behind his narrowed gaze, and you fight a smirk when it sweeps toward Lo'ak again.

“What do the two of you think you're doing?” He can barely get the words out through clenched teeth.

When he realized Lo'ak was missing, he began leisurely exploring the village. He figured his brother hadn't strayed far and was simply avoiding his duties around Home Tree. After several hours, though, anxiety clouded his mind, making him fear the worst. He went to find you, to confide his worries and maybe even convince you to help with search efforts.

But he couldn't find you either.

Your family was no help, they hadn't seen you since morning. He became slightly frantic, strides quickening to a jog as he looked in every nook and cranny of the village. There's no way, he tried to reassure himself, there's no way they're alone together.

He'd just called for his Ikran when he heard it. Heard the familiar call of your bonded animal—and his brother's. He all but sprinted toward the clearing, heart plummeting at the sight of you, head thrown back with a hearty laugh. Lo'ak's expression mirrored yours as he landed next, amused gaze locked on you.

“Aw, come on, bro.” He finally looks away from you, eyes rolling toward the sky with an annoyed huff.

“You were supposed to be back hours ago. I almost started a search party.” His glare slides back to you, the latter part of his sentence a pointed warning.

“It's not a big deal.” Lo'ak tries to assuage him, tone dismissive as he deftly jumps from his Ikran.

Your feet hit the ground with a soft thud, palms smoothing over thick skin to keep your animal calm. The muscles between Neteyam's shoulders bunch, heart thrumming wildly between his ribs.

“Get outta here Lo’ak, before I tell mom and dad.” His voice drops to a gravely rumble, anger clouding his vision. He can't believe you've actually done something like this. You really ran off with his brother of all people, doing Eywa knows what. The possibilities make his blood run cold.

“Dude!” Lo'ak's face scrunches with petulance, but he begrudgingly obeys at the sight of barely contained emotion in his brother's eyes. “At least let me get my—hey!”

Neteyam shoves against his shoulder lightly, urging him along. “Go. Now.”

The younger Sully throws his hands up in surrender, grumbling under his breath as he quickly disappears through thick foliage.

Your gaze, wide with uncertainty, meets molten yellow. Lips part to begin damage control, but all that comes out is a surprised yelp as his fingers clamp around one of your arms.

“Nete—” You stumble to keep up with his hurried pace as he turns and walks briskly toward Home Tree.

He ignores you entirely, dragging you through the village until he finds your shared tent. It's newly formed walls should provide enough privacy for him to deal with you, to figure out how far you've gone this time. With a gentle push you stagger through the door, woven flap slamming shut at your back.

He turns on you, narrowed eyes brimming with anger and something else. Something darker. It wells in his chest, the green flame of jealousy burning through his sternum painfully.

“How could you be so careless?” His chin drops, heated gaze pinning you in place.

“Mawey (calm), Neteyam. It’s fine. We were just having fun.” Your hands lift, palms barely brushing against his chest before he moves away as if you've cut him.

“You do not have fun with my brother.” The deep timbre of his voice sends a shockwave of desire between your legs.

You fidget slightly, rubbing your thighs together, and he misinterprets the motion as one of nervousness, of guilt.

“He is reckless. And a bad influence, clearly.” His jaw clenches so hard he fears he may crack a tooth.

“It was just a quick flight, ‘Teyam, I don’t see what—” You step toward him again, but stop short as he advances on you, one hand moving to cup the back of your neck.

A gasp fills the small space between you as he firmly tilts your head back, leering down at you hotly. “You not getting enough attention, yawne (beloved)? Is that it?”

Your heart soars, despite the fact that he's upset because of you. The hard edges you haven't seen for weeks have returned with a vengeance, that possessive glint in his eye you've been dying to see finally back in full force. It makes your core clench with anticipation.

It's not that you don't appreciate how careful he's been with you. It's sweet, loving, the way he appears almost afraid to hurt you in those intimate moments. But you crave more. You want every piece of him, this rougher side of him, as much as the rest.

You gulp down a course swallow, trembling with steadily rising emotion. “You've been cold, Nete. You act like we aren't even mates in front of the clan.”

It's a sore spot, a point of insecurity. Though he claimed you as his in the forest all those nights ago, he refuses to mate before Eywa. You've asked, and every time, he's dismissed you. You're trying to give him time, to wait until he's ready, but the rejection stings.

A rough breath falls from his lips, corded muscles loosening slightly. His shoulders drop, eyes pinching closed for a brief moment. Regret grips his heart when he looks at you again, seeing moisture gather along your lashes.

“Oh, baby girl. I'm sorry.” His hand slides away from your neck, instead winding around your back to pull you in close.

You curl against his chest, arms latching around his middle. His embrace brings you comfort, eases the ache a bit, but you still yearn for answers. Your head tilts away from his warmth, eyes searching his in question.

One of his large hands smooths down your hair, another sigh fanning your face. “I just—I don't know, sweetheart. I feel like if I touch you in front of them, I'm sharing something too intimate.”

You can understand it to a degree, you know he's reserved by nature. But what you don't get, what you can't accept for much longer, is his refusal to be fully yours in the eyes of the Great Mother.

“But why won't you mate with me?” You decide to ask outright, though your chest tightens with uncertainty, the words falling from trembling lips.

His expression sours, and he reluctantly tears his gaze away from yours. He tries to remove himself from you, but your arms only tighten around him.

“I don't deserve it.” When your brows pinch with confusion, he continues, fingertips ghosting your cheek. “All those years I spent ignoring you, being cruel to you...I can't, yawne (beloved). Not until I've earned it.”

“Oh, ‘Teyam...” You coo, heart shattering at his inner turmoil.

You had no idea he felt this way, was punishing himself in this way. Your hands frame his face, pulling it back up from where it'd fallen against his chest with guilt.

“I can see that I've already failed you.” He grumbles, lips pulling into a frown as he thinks back to all the ways he made you feel less than over the last few weeks.

He was caught up in his own idea of being a respectable mate. He thought if he gave you space, wasn't too overbearing in front of others, you'd be more comfortable. It was a big shift, going from adversaries to lovers. He figured you wouldn't want to flaunt your relationship with him, given the way he'd treated you for so long.

Apparently, he couldn't have been more wrong.

“I’m sorry, sevin (pretty).” He repeats, voice dropping to a low murmur. “Please, don't hate me.”

“I could never hate you, ‘Teyam.” You assure, lips ghosting over his in a chaste caress. “Even during those years...I've never hated you, yawnetu (love).”

His chest swells, feeling so unworthy, but so grateful for your unconditional love. He captures your lips in a passionate kiss, fingers threading into your braids gently. You sway with the force of his mouth on yours, humming contentedly against him.

He walks forward, until the backs of your knees hit the woven mat the two of you have spent many nights tangled on. With a gentle shove you break away from him, panting lightly as strong elbows catch your fall. Your breath hitches when he slowly kneels before you, heavy lidded eyes never leaving yours.

“Let me start making it up to you, narlor (beautiful).” He murmurs, peppering gentle, open mouthed kisses along your thigh.

Long fingers wrap around your knees, tenderly easing them apart. He settles between them, nostrils flaring at the sight of your covered core. Within seconds you're bare before him, glistening sex on full display for his waiting mouth.

He licks his lips, eyes catching yours again as he dives in, tongue lashing a languid stroke along your pussy lips. He mutters a quiet sorry with every tiny kitten lick, until you're shaking with the effort of remaining still and patient. He hums against you, fingertips prodding at your entrance.

“‘Teyam!” You instantly cry out, head dipping under the bloom of pleasure.

“That's it, baby. Make those pretty noises for me.”He pulls back, lips and chin glistening, eyes boring into yours intensely.

A broken moan fills the tent as he slides two fingers inside you effortlessly, soft walls fluttering around the intrusion. He pumps them slowly, tongue diving back in to circle your clit. You fall against the mat, arms trembling from holding yourself upright. His pace only quickens as he adds his third and final finger.

Your back arches from the bed, pleasured sighs filling the otherwise quiet room. He pulls his fingers almost entirely free before slamming them back into you, grunting at the way you spasm around the digits. You mewl, hips jerking up toward him as his mouth latches onto your clit again.

“‘Teyam! I—I...” The words dissolve into pitiful moans as your lower belly tightens.

“Atta girl, come on, cum for me.” He pulls back just long enough to groan the praise before he's back on you, lavishing your pussy with apologies.

Your body instantly obeys, orgasm ripping through you forcefully. You clench around his fingers, hips trembling as white hot pleasure causes you to shudder beneath him. Your chest heaves with ragged breaths as you come down from the high he'd given you. He mercifully abandons your clit, moving up to hover above you.

His fingers never leave you, pumping a steady pace as he quickly works you up to another release. He grins down at you warmly, free hand smoothing along your cheek.

“Catch your breath, baby girl. I have many years to make up for.”

#neteyam sully #neteyam fic #neteyam imagine #neteyam headcanons #neteyam smut #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam #avatar way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #neteyam x reader #neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam sully smut #neteyam fluff #neteyam angst

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marvelobsessed134 · 24 days

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Going to Disneyland with Elvis headcannons

A/n: First Elvis fic! I’ve had this idea for a couple days now and finally decided to write it! Also just a disclaimer even though I am a huge Disney nerd especially for the parks I may get some information inaccurate because I was obviously not around in the 60s to go to Disneyland during that time. I have been an avid Disneyland guest for my whole life basically so I do know a lot about how the park is run and things like that.

Pairings: Late 60s!Elvis x Fem!Reader

Warnings: too much explanation about vintage Disneyland sorry

Okay so the day would start out where the two of you would get there bright and early for rope drop (when the park opens and they drop the rope that blocks off the rides)

You wanted to make sure you could get on the E ticket rides (Back then Disney had tickets for rides and you’d buy a little ticket book and there were different tickets: A, B, C, D, and E. E ticket rides were the popular more thrilling rides like Matterhorn bobsleds) before the lines got too long

Elvis always had a blast at Disneyland with you being able to let out his inner child

After a couple rides you’d get breakfast on Main Street and talked about your plans for the day after eating. You’d both stare at sleeping beauty castle in awe and a cast member (what the employees are called) would offer to take your picture in front of it which of course you’d say yes

Elvis obviously being extremely famous has people come up to him and ask for autographs and such and he’d politely decline, saying he was here to have a good time with his girl

Cinderella definitely had a thing for him when the two of you went to get your picture with her, she was paying much more attention to Elvis than you. She was trying to hold in the fangirling and not break character

Elvis thought it was funny that you were a tiny bit upset about it until non other than Prince Phillip seemed so enamored by you and he felt how you were feeling previously. The two of you just laughed it off together though

You went on the smaller (but still fun) rides like the carousel, teacups, Snow White’s Scary Adventures, Pinocchio, and Mr. Toads Wild Ride

Elvis loves the Mickey ice cream bars and you love the cotton candy

You had a lot of fun waving to the mermaids that sat on the rocks above the submarine voyage ride

Elvis didn’t like that other men thought it was okay to whistle and be disrespectful to the mermaids but he didn’t say anything to them just muttered to you, “The lack of respect these men have is disgusting.” Which made you giggle a bit and agree

Midday you’d watch the parade and then go into the Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln attraction to watch the amazing Abraham Lincoln animatronic (it’s actually really amazing one of the best animatronics in the park)

You’d ride on the pack mules on the trail through natures wonderland attraction which was super fun

And even go on the canoes which Elvis helped the whole boat with how good he was at rowing

The day would end at night, standing in front of the castle with your head resting on his shoulder as you watched the fireworks.

And of course you’d fall asleep on the car ride home

#elvis presley #elvis the king #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #Elvis fluff #Disneyland #vintage disney #vintage Disneyland #late 60s Elvis #60s #rock n roll #king of rock n roll

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formula1bby · 1 year

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Dating Charles Leclerc Headcanons

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Just some soft bf!Charles headcanons

charles leclerc x gn!reader

Warnings: none that come to mind, just fluff

req?: yes/no

A/N: Hallo, it’s been a minute! I’m working on two fics rn (one Danny Ric x femaleequestrian!oc and one Carlos Sainz Jr. x femaledriver!oc) and I’m not sure when they’ll be out/start to be posted since I am v busy right now. I will post a teaser for the Danny Ric one later this week so keep an eye out for that ;) and I’ll post a teaser for the Carlos one sometime after that. In the meantime, I’ll try to post some hcs and smaller fics while waiting for those so if you have any requests, hop into my asks and let me know! Enjoy the hcs!

Everything about this man screams childhood friends to lovers to me!!! Like, you’re next door neighbors or desk neighbors in school or something and you just click instantly as kids

It was never a question of if, but when you and Charles got together and your families all had a running bet of when you two would stop being so blind to each other’s feelings (Lorenzo ends up winning the bet)

I feel like Charles would eventually accidentally let it slip how he feels for you while you guys are on a drive together with no destination in mind

Like, he would just look over at you without you noticing and just say under his breath “god, I’m so in love with you” without even realizing that he’s said it or that you heard him

But you heard him alright. You immediately look over at him and are like “what did you just say?????” Like, hello?? That’s your best friend and he just confessed his love for you?????????????

Charles is like a deer in headlights and is like “oh fuck I said that out loud” and spirals thinking that he’s just ruined your friendship

You just laugh and tell him “don’t worry, I’m so in love with you too” and he just lets out a sigh of relief

As soon as you tell him you feel the same about him, he grabs your hand with his free one and holds it for the rest of the drive (his palms are so sweaty but please don’t mention it, he’s nervous :( )

Once you two are dating, you decide to keep it private from the F1 community for the first few months

It was hard for fans to tell that you two were dating, although there was definitely lots of speculation, because you had always gone to every race weekend possible and given him a lil kiss on his cheek for good luck. Charles refused to race if you were there and didn’t give him his good luck kiss

You wanted to soft launch your relationship to the public (the team, your friends/family, and all of the drivers already knew about the relationship) and spent a long time explaining to Charles what soft launching was and how to do it

It was in one ear and out the other with him

He tried (not really) to soft launch but he just posted one of his favorite pictures of you and him and tagged you in the post

You definitely chew him out in the comments like “so much for soft launching this”

Fans love you though, they always had

You, like before, are always there for Charles whether he has a good race or a bad race

When he has a good race and/or wins, you are right there in the crowd, cheering as loud as you possibly can. To celebrate, the two of you go out and have a blast with your friends and order way too much food when you get back to the hotel

When he has a bad race, you’re there to console him immediately, reassuring him that he is every bit deserving of his place in the sport. You make sure you tell him when something isn’t his fault, but you never lie to him about how he drove. You’re brutally honest with him but still encouraging and always make sure he knows you will always be his biggest supporter, no matter what. The two of you order comfort foods and just sit and quietly eat and chat after bad races so that he can cool down. He will always talk to you about what he’s going through after he’s cooled off though, knowing that you just want to help

I’m realizing now that I haven’t talked about PDA with Charles, but I feel like he would keep most affections private, only kissing you after races and holding your hand when walking next to each other, but mostly it’s soft touches and words when you’re in smaller groups of friends and family

Overall, Charles is your best friend before and after dating and he is so willing to be emotionally vulnerable with you because of it

10/10 would recommend dating Charles Leclerc

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There it is! hope you all enjoyed! Pls reblog and comment <3 See you all later!

Cazza out (^▽^)

#f1 #f1 headcanon #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader #cl16 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula 1 #cazza writes #charles leclerc imagine #formula1bby

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choerrypuffs · 2 years

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fast times.

pairing: co-worker!donghyuck x reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

word count: 7.6k

synopsis: throughout the snapshots of your life, lee donghyuck is always there. (or, you realize that you’re in love with the bane of your existence.)

author’s note: i started grad school and it’s literally eating me alive so i wanted to write something short and sweet to de-stress and then it ended up being almost 8k words 😭

warning(s): excessive drinking, family tension

playlist: fast times by sabrina carpenter ― the bottom by gracie abrams ― stress by taeyeon ― ruin my life by zara larsson ― cruel summer by taylor swift

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

Liquid courage, as the poets say.

Well, don’t fact check that, but surely Wordsworth or Coleridge or whichever poet that Taylor Swift talks about in the lakes mentioned something about getting shitfaced during a St. Patrick’s Day office party.

Regardless, you’re going to pretend like they did because it’s a lot less romantic (lowercase r, not capital like the movement) if you’re just drunk off your ass at an office party without an artsy-fartsy literary reference to back you up.

You’re one too many shots of tequila deep, swaying to the shitty techno music that someone is blasting from their pretentious Spotify playlist while stumbling past the office cubicles, including yours and He Who Shall Not Be Named’s, on your wobbly trip to the bathroom.

Despite the copious amounts of alcohol in your system, the remaining coherent part of your brain is sounding the alarms that you’re probably going to throw up soon. You wish that part of your brain would just shut the hell up because you don’t want to think rationally right now.

You don’t want to think about He Who Shall Not Be Named and how he’s in love with your best friend. You don’t want to think about how his eyes found her the moment she walked into the office, how his gaze melted into a pool of honey, his head swiveling towards every direction she went like a stupid bobblehead. Not that you blame him; everyone is in love with Karina. It’s not his fault, but you’re mad at him anyways.

Ugh, see? You’re thinking about him again.

Anyways, you’re also grateful for that part of your brain because the poets definitely do not write about spewing chunks in front of your co-workers. You just want to hurl in peace and wallow in your misery with the porcelain toilet bowl by your side.

The poets probably wrote about that.

You finally make it to the hall where the bathrooms are, having steady yourself against the wall as you make your way down because walking in a straight line has become a luxury. However, you only get about five steps (at least you think it’s five, numbers are hard) when someone grabs your arm. You don’t even realize your legs are in the process of buckling until there’s a pair of hands supporting your waist to keep you upright.

“Jesus, Y/N,” someone breathes in relief, exhaling loudly.

You’d recognize that condescending tone anywhere.

He Who Shall Not Be Named carefully leans you against the wall, one hand still on your waist while the other removes the bottle of Jack Daniels that you didn’t even know you were clinging onto from the nook of your arm. With one smooth motion, he tosses the bottle into the trashcan and doesn’t even flinch when the bottle very audibly shatters inside.

“I know you’re a loyal worshiper of mine, but just Y/N is fine,” you slur, not sounding nearly as cool as you’d hope, “though it’d be pretty fucking funny if you washed my feet.”

He huffs and pauses, like he’s debating on whether or not he should say what he wants to say next. And because he’s a piece of shit, he says it:

“For the record, Jesus washed his disciples’ feet. Not the other way around.”

You groan, shoving him hard. He barely budges, so most of the force in your shove kicks back to you. Feeling yourself tip forward, you grab his shoulders out of instinct to avoid busting your head open against the hard tile. In the process, your forehead slams into his chest, and he lets out a soft grunt. His hands grip your elbows, fingertips warm against your even warmer skin.

“I hate you,” you sniffle, burying your face in his shirt. He smells exactly like a fluffy towel that just came out of the dryer. “You’re tactless and you never let me win and you have shitty taste in movies.”

“And you’re drunk,” he replies nonchalantly, “Why do you drink so much when you’re such a lightweight?”

“You don’t deserve Karina,” you continue angrily.

He actually laughs at that. “Okay, young lady. I’m going to drive you home now. Come on.”

You lift your head so fast that you nearly slam it into his jaw; luckily, he sees it coming and steps back before you can knock his teeth out.

“Don’t,” you hiss, poking his chest. “I don’t want you to drive me home. Don’t drive me home unless…”

He raises an eyebrow. “Unless what?”

“Pretty boys can never be trusted,” you hiccup.

“I honestly have no idea what you’re talking about, but let’s continue this discussion when you’ve sobered up,” he sighs, crossing his arms. “And when you are sober and realize that you don’t want to talk about this anymore, like I suspect you’ll do, I’ll even pretend like this conversation never happened because I am a gentleman.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” you whisper blearily.

You’re wearing a green t-shirt that has “Kiss me, I’m Irish” plastered across the chest in big, bold white letters. You borrowed it from Karina when you realized you didn’t have any green in your closet. Of course, only Karina would look good in something like this, but you really didn’t want to be pinched the entire night. Someone had plastered four-leaf clover stickers all over your face, though you’re not sure how many of them are still on at this point. Your makeup should be intact since you haven’t been sweating, even if you probably have mascara residue under your eyes. You’ve certainly looked better, but this definitely isn’t the worst state you’ve been in.

It’s a stupid question though, really. No matter how pretty you are, he’s already chosen Karina.

When you glance back up at him, he looks like one of those cartoon characters that have two perfect red circles on their cheeks when they blush.

You haven’t seen him this flustered in a long time. He’s always had this smug, impenetrable mask of an expression that you want to punch off his face―like he’s constantly one step ahead of you in something.

You want to take out your phone and take a picture of his expression so badly.

Instead, you hunch over and throw up on his expensive shoes.

VALENTINE’S DAY 2018 my feelings used to be serrated, but you speak in such a perfect cadence

Pretty boys should never be trusted.

That is your ultimate mantra in life.

Especially pretty boys that claim to be “nerdy.” The ones that smell nice and aren’t misogynistic but also like games and anime and know how to code. The ones that wear indie band t-shirts and actually enjoy the band but don't care if you wear the same t-shirt just because you like the aesthetic. The ones that wear rings on their fingers and metal-rimmed glasses on the tip of their noses.

The ones that other girls would claim were “written by women.”

It’s all a trap.

If anything, they’re worse than the obnoxious frat boy chads. At least those are straightforward about what they want. Nerdy pretty boys are professional manipulators, meticulously slicing your heart into thin little pieces to use as a garnish for their own ego.

So when the new intern swaggers into the office, hands tucked into the pockets of his designer slacks, your Pretty Boy senses start to tingle.

He’s wearing a crisp white button-up (not a band tee since he’s at work), and he’s got rings on his fingers and metal-rimmed glasses right on the tip of his nose. His hair is a little curly and falls into his eyes in that messy but charming look. He’s got a round face and pouty lips, looking just sweet enough to disarm someone.

After he walks in, the CEO of the company follows, and now everything makes sense.

“Everyone, this is my grandson, Donghyuck,” Mr. Lee explains, smiling warmly.

Nepo baby, you realize, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

“I want you all to know he won’t be getting any special treatment,” Mr. Lee says firmly, “He will have to work his way from the bottom, just like everyone else.”

Right, that’s why you’re personally introducing him to us, you think wryly.

After receiving a load of ass kissing from the employees, Mr. Lee finally leaves, and your team leader points Donghyuck to the empty cubicle right next to yours. He strolls over with an ease as if he owns the building (he technically does) and takes a seat. He smiles at you, though it reads as more of a smirk than a good-natured smile.

“Hi, I’m Donghyuck.”

When he looks at you, he does so with his whole body. His lanky frame is completely angled towards you as he unabashedly drinks in your side profile with his mischievous, twinkly eyes. The way he stares at you with such intrigue makes you jittery, and you keep your line of sight glued to your computer screen, refusing to indulge him even through your peripheral.

He’s deploying his Pretty Boy tactics, you warn.

“I know,” you snap back. You don’t mean to come off that aggressively, but you just know he’s trouble. In an attempt to remedy your curt response, you softly tack on, “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Donghyuck asks, the quirked grin on his face growing.

You blink in surprise. You were not expecting him to say it so straightforwardly. “I…just met you.”

“You’re not answering the question.” He tilts his head, though he doesn’t seem particularly bothered by it. Rather, he probably already knows the answer.

You’re not sure what to say to that, and Donghyuck doesn’t try to continue the conversation either. Instead, he begins to unpack his stuff and set up his work space. When he turns on his personal laptop, you see League of Legends downloaded onto it.

Yikes.

Like the standard pretty boy, he starts hanging up an indie band poster, along with some anime ones you don’t recognize and―a Twilight poster.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see it. Men, even the pretty boys who are trying to make themselves as appealing to girls as possible, rarely ever admit to watching, much less enjoying, Twilight.

Okay, so maybe your Pretty Boy tingle got one thing wrong, but it doesn’t change the fact that he checks most of the Pretty Boy boxes―

“Are you Team Edward or Jacob?” Donghyuck asks, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

You have no one else to blame but yourself for snooping, but you still grow hot from your face to the tips of your ears and all the way down your neck.

“I’m Team Charlie,” you reply breezily, sounding pretty calm for someone who’s screaming on the inside.

His eyebrows slightly raise, and he just laughs quietly to himself.

You relish in that tiny victory.

As it turns out, Donghyuck is an extremely fast learner.

And despite being a nepo baby, he puts his money where his mouth is. He picks things up extremely quickly and utilizes everything he has learned efficiently. In fact, he’s doing so well that he’s starting to threaten your position as the office’s favorite intern.

And of course, on today of all days, you fuck up.

Another intern messed up the report, and you somehow overlooked it while you were checking. However, the responsibility falls on your shoulders because it was your job to make sure the report was correct. You get viciously chewed out by your team leader, and you’re guaranteed to have to work overtime to fix everything.

Ultimately, it is your mistake, and you’re not disputing that; you just know that you’re being made an example of so the office can look good in front of the CEO’s grandson.

So, while everyone is gathering their stuff to leave, you’re the only one still at your cubicle, fingers clicking away on the keyboard. Your eyelids are already starting to droop, despite the fact that you have at least a couple hours left of work. Giving yourself a couple of smacks on the cheeks, you try to shake away the brain fog and keep going.

You’re so immersed that you almost don’t notice Donghyuck set down a cup of coffee on your desk.

“I bought two for myself, but I think you need it more than me,” he admits, actually seeming a little sympathetic.

“Thanks,” you say, a little wary but still appreciative. You’re too tired to even question his motives.

He gives you a wave before leaving. Once he’s gone, you turn back to your computer and start to work again. You nearly forget about the coffee until you pause to take a big stretch, noticing it in your peripheral. Picking it up, you notice there’s a message scrawled on it.

happy valentine’s day! maybe i’ll grow on you :)

You smile, but only a little bit. Only because he’s a little cute.

When you finally take a sip, you nearly spit it all over your computer screen.

It’s so bitter that it sends a shudder throughout your whole body. You start to cough, feeling like even a single drop of that coffee getting in your system is going to make your short circuit. You’re not even sure if this poison could be considered black coffee. It might be actual black tar. Frantically digging through your drawers to find some candy or gum to offset the bitterness, you begin to curse Donghyuck in your head.

When you finally find a half-melted caramel cube and pop it into your mouth, it occurs to you that Donghyuck didn’t even have a cup of coffee in his hands even though he said he bought two.

“That asshole,” you whisper.

Cracking your knuckles and rolling your neck, you start to type again with a renewed vigor, thinking of all the ways you were going to make Donghyuck pay to power you through the rest of the night.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

You’re not sure how He Who Shall Not Be Named manages to clean himself up and wrangle you into his car in such a short timespan, but he does it. Most of it is a blur to you, though you do recall him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carrying you through the parking garage after you started trying to fistfight him.

Now, you’re leaning your head against the cool window, watching all the buildings whizz by, as he drives in silence. Well, not complete silence. Music is being softly played on the radio. It’s that stupid indie band he likes, and you hate that you know exactly what song it is. You remember it from last time.

I’ve only been in his car twice, including now, you think groggily to yourself.

He must really like this song.

APRIL FOOLS 2019 three stories up here contemplating, but what the fuck is patience?

“Is this some sort of sick April Fools’ joke?” you demand.

“Come on, Y/N. Surely, you don’t think a prank of mine would be this lame,” Donghyuck retorts, offended.

The two of you are fighting again. At this point, it’s a daily occurrence in the office. In fact, Karina likes to say that the official work day doesn’t really start until you and Donghyuck start going at each other’s throats. You feel bad that everyone has to constantly deal with your bickering, but Donghyuck asks for it every time.

“You can’t just take someone else’s client,” you say through gritted teeth, wanting to smack that insufferable look right off his face.

“I didn’t take anything,” he corrects haughtily, “I was assigned your client, who is now my client. Take it up with the team leader.”

“The team leader would suck a fart out of your ass if you asked him to,” you hiss back.

He shrugs like you have a point.

“Fine,” you snap, grabbing your bag. “I’ll go talk to my client myself. I’ll get them to request to be transferred back to me.”

Before marching out, you grab the coffee on your desk and down it all in one go. It’s been sitting there for a couple hours, so it’s ice cold. The cold temperature in combination with the extreme bitterness is just the right mixture to light a fire in you.

Unfortunately, that fire is dimmed when you step foot outside and realize it’s thunderstorming heavily. The wind howls so piercingly that it almost hurts your ears, and the onslaught of rain is so strong that you can barely see the cars on the streets. You weigh your options: you have no car, there’s no way you can wait for a bus, and there sure as hell aren’t going to be any available taxis.

Just as you begrudgingly decide to do the walk of shame back into the office and wait out the storm, you hear a loud honk and see an obnoxiously red Ferrari pull up. The tinted window rolls down, and you find yourself staring at nepo baby Lee Donghyuck.

“Need a ride?” he shouts over the pouring rain.

“Not with you!” you holler back, turning to go back inside.

“Are you really going to wait it out?” he teases. “Their office closes in twenty minutes.”

You want to keep walking and ignore him, but your traitorous feet plant themselves on the concrete and refuse to let you take another step.

“Thanks for the new client, I guess!” he continues in a sing-song voice. A car behind him beeps, and you hear his window roll back up as he slowly starts to drive away.

“Damn it,” you mutter. Not giving yourself to think, you whirl around and dash out into the rain. Luckily, he decided to leave at a snail’s pace, so you have time to fling his car door open and slip inside.

Even though you were only in the rain for a few seconds, you’re soaked to the bone. Your pants make a squish noise when you settle yourself into his expensive leather seat. You want to make a joke about ruining his seats, but your teeth are chattering too hard for you to even speak.

Donghyuck reaches over and turns your seat warmer on before also blasting the heater. Your thin blouse has become see-through, and you awkwardly cross your arms over your chest, hoping he hasn’t noticed. Unfortunately, he has noticed, judging by the way he loudly clears his throat and reaches into the backseat to give you his hoodie.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pulling it over your head before slipping your arms through. The sleeves are too long, so you roll them up to your wrists. His hoodie smells like fabric softener.

“No problem.” His voice cracks.

Neither of you say anything after that, only the sound of the rain pitter-pattering against his car filling in the silence. Eventually, he turns on the radio.

It’s a song you don’t recognize, but you deduce it’s from one of his indie bands when he starts humming along. You’re not even sure he’s aware that he’s doing it, though you don’t really mind. He’s not a bad singer, and you actually enjoy the song.

The two of you spend the remainder of the drive just listening to music, neither of you really feeling the need to speak. It’s a calm, comfortable silence―something that you never thought would be achievable between you and him. Rather, you wish you had more moments like this.

By the time you arrive at your client’s office, the rain has stopped. You assume he’s going to leave after dropping you off because it’s not raining anymore, and especially since the meeting ends up lasting way past the office’s closing, but you see his Ferrari still there when you come back out.

Walking over to him, you knock on the window.

“You didn’t have to wait up,” you say when he rolls it down, slightly touched.

“You have my hoodie,” Donghyuck states plainly.

Well, there goes the moment. You can always count on him to say something to piss you off.

“Right.” Rolling your eyes, you start to take off the hoodie in the street.

“I’m just kidding, Y/N,” he grins, “Come on.”

You let out a small huff, even though you’re smiling too, and you climb in. He turns the radio on again, and the two of you fall back into the ambiance. It occurs to you that Donghyuck’s car smells overwhelmingly like rain and leather and him. When you cross your arms, the scent of the fresh fabric softener from his hoodie wafts back up to you. You feel warm―the kind of warmth that blooms in the pit of your stomach and then melts throughout your body, like when you take a sip of hot chocolate on a cold day.

“How was it?” he finally asks after the song ends.

“Who do you think I am?” you scoff. “Of course I got them back.”

He smiles, and it makes you feel proud.

“You can tell the team leader to suck the fart out of my ass,” you retort.

This gets a laugh from him before he hesitantly adds, “I really didn’t want to take your client.”

You’ve never heard him sound so serious and so…vulnerable before. He says it with a slight desperation, like he doesn’t think you’ll believe him.

“I know.”

And much to your own surprise, you do know.

Now that’s a sick April Fools’ joke.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

“You don’t deserve Karina,” you mumble, coming in and out of sleep.

He Who Shall Not Be Named laughs again at that, though he sounds a lot more exhausted. “Why do you keep saying that?”

“Don’t think I didn’t see it,” you slur. “You were making those stupid moon eyes at her all night long. Looking like some lovesick puppy. Gross.”

He laughs for a second time, but there’s not a hint of humor in it.

What if it had been me, you want to ask him.

NEW YEARS EVE 2019 tiptoeing past so many stages, but what the fuck is patience?

You’re not sure what possessed Mr. Lee, probably the fact that his grandson works for the company, but he randomly announced one day that the entire office was getting an all expenses paid trip to a fancy ski resort as a New Years present. Needless to say, everyone was absolutely ecstatic.

But you should’ve known something was going to go wrong when Karina suggested that the two of you leave the bunny slope and move straight into the advanced slope, despite the fact that neither of you have ever skied in your lives until now.

You’d like to think that Karina’s sudden bravery was due to the adrenaline of being on such a luxurious trip. You’re going to blame your lack of judgment on the adrenaline rush as well because you actually agreed to it.

Of course, things derailed almost immediately and literally because the two of you ended up veering off the course due to your lack of steering abilities and somehow found yourselves in a random, remote wooded area off the edge of the slope. Karina also twisted her ankle after landing incorrectly, so there’s that too.

Oh, and there’s a snowstorm.

Well, it’s not really a snowstorm. It’s more of a flurry, but it’s terrifying nonetheless because of your current situation. Karina can barely move, and neither of you have any clue where you are nor do you have any sort of communication device since you left it all at the resort. It’s not like you can leave Karina by herself to get help either. You can really only hope that someone finds you before the frostbite starts settling.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Karina sniffles, her nose redder than Rudolph’s.

You hug her tightly, both to comfort her and to keep the two of you as warm as possible. “Stop crying, you’re going to dehydrate yourself. You can apologize when we get out of here.”

She chokes back a sob.

You want to cry too, but you bite down on your lower lip and just cling onto Karina harder.

“Damn, and I was finally going to follow through with my New Year's resolution of fixing my sleep schedule,” you joke, voice trembling.

Karina laughs weakly at that too. “You say that every year.”

“I know,” you admit sheepishly, “but I really am going to this time. I need to make sure I’m in tip-top condition because there’s no way in hell I’m letting Lee Donghyuck get that promotion over me.”

That’s right, you tell yourself. I can’t die here. Not before that dumbass.

You’re not sure why you’re suddenly thinking about him again, but it makes you feel a lot less scared when you picture his dumb smirk and that sly glint in his eyes when he’s gearing up to say something to piss you off. He always knows which buttons to press on the exact wrong day to press them.

You kind of wish he was here now. He would probably be cracking stupid jokes and distracting you―

“Y/N!”

Blinking the snowflakes out of your eyes, you squint past the sheet of snow and tall trees, trying to make sure you aren’t hallucinating. You see a blurry figure running towards you and Karina, the beam of their flashlight peeking through the darkness. When did the sun start setting?

Speak of the pretty boy, and he shall come, you suppose, because Lee Donghyuck is suddenly kneeling in front of you.

The smug look he always dons is wiped clean from his face, instead, his eyes are wide like two saucers and his hands are trembling. You can feel how tightly he’s clutching your arms even through the thick material of your parka. His hair is damp against his forehead; whether it’s from snow or sweat or both, you’re not sure. His face is flushed, and his nose is red like Karina’s, but you want to reach out and boop it for some reason. You can see his labored breath come out in white puffs due to the temperature.

“I found them!” Donghyuck calls out, turning behind him. A couple of your other colleagues emerge from the trees, all holding flashlights. Then, he reverts his attention back to you. His face is all furrowed up, like he isn’t sure whether to be mad at you for being reckless or collapse with relief.

“Are you hurt?” he eventually asks, voice strained as he helps you to your feet. He brushes the snow out of your hair and lifts your ski goggles from your eyes, scanning your face.

“Karina twisted her ankle,” you reply numbly, unable to feel your lips.

He glances over at Karina, who’s being helped by your other co-workers, before looking at you again. “Are you hurt?”

You shake your head.

Donghyuck exhales loudly, and you watch his shoulders relax. Then he says, “What the hell were you thinking?”

You flinch at his sharp tone. He’s never raised his voice at you before. You’ve always been the one yelling at him.

“You can’t even drive a car, so what on Earth possessed you to try and ski on the advanced slope?” he continues to reprimand you. “What’s the point in being this smart if you’re not going to use common sense―”

You burst into tears.

You cry for many reasons: the sheer terror you’d been trying to keep at bay finally catches up to you, you’re grateful to be alive, you’re upset that Donghyuck is scolding you, you’re happy that Donghyuck is scolding you, and most of all, you know he’s right. He’s right, and you’re glad he’s right. You’re glad that he’s standing in front of you.

“You’re such a dick,” you wail, “I can’t believe you’re yelling at me when I almost died. Why can’t you just comfort me like a normal human with empathy?”

Donghyuck grows quiet, and you see his expression soften. Sighing, he reaches over and swipes the tears from your face. When you sniffle, he takes his expensive cashmere scarf and wipes your nose with it. He doesn’t even blink at the snot on it as he cups your frozen cheeks with his gloved hands. Grinning evilly, he squishes your face together, a mush of tears, snot, and puffiness.

“I’ve never wanted you more,” he teases.

“I’m going to kill you,” you grumble, shoving his hands away. Though you do find solace in the fact that he’s making fun of you again.

Your colleagues call the two of you over for help, and you make your way to Karina, who’s still unable to get up.

“Hyuck, do you mind carrying her back to the resort?” One of them asks, their hands too full with Karina’s skis and their own emergency supplies that they brought.

Donghyuck hesitates for a moment, his eyes inadvertently flashing towards you, before he kneels down and turns his back to Karina as he prepares to give her a piggy-back ride.

“I’m heavy,” Karina warns as she carefully climbs on.

“Don’t worry, I do five pushups a week,” he replies breezily, and despite his joking, he stands to his feet without a problem.

She laughs at that, sounding like an angel descending from the heavens.

He adjusts her thighs in his arms slightly, pausing to ask, “That didn’t hurt your ankle, did it?”

She shakes her head, and he says something else that makes her laugh again.

It’s not that you’re jealous that he’s carrying Karina. After all, she’s injured, so it would be a bit obnoxious to be upset over something that isn’t anyone’s fault. And it’s not like you’re any more special to him than Karina.

No, this feeling isn’t jealousy. It’s…uncertainty.

You’re uncertain that he would do the same for you if you were in Karina’s position. Has he ever reassured you with such ease like he did with her? Has he ever treated you like you were made of glass? Has he ever spoken to you so tenderly like that?

You suddenly feel so cold.

Three.

When you get back to the resort, there’s an ambulance waiting to take you and Karina to the hospital for a checkup. You try to tell everyone that you don’t need to go to the hospital, but your colleagues, Karina, and the paramedics insist on you doing so.

“Your glove is torn.”

Before you can even register his words, Donghyuck is holding your hand and flipping your palm over. The fabric of your right glove is ripped, exposing the tip of your pointer finger. You must’ve scraped it against something in the middle of all the chaos because there’s some dried blood caked around your nail.

“You should go,” he says softly, giving your hand an encouraging squeeze before letting go.

Once Karina is properly settled on the gurney, you’re ushered into the ambulance after her. As the doors close behind you, you catch Donghyuck’s eyes one last time. You don’t get to see what his expression is because you look away almost immediately, focusing your gaze on your finger.

Now that the adrenaline has worn off, it does sting a little.

Two.

Once the hospital finally discharges you and Karina in the middle of the night, the two of you call an Uber back to the resort and clumsily stumble up to your room like two people that just came home after a long night of partying, completely exhausted.

You’re so busy fumbling with your room key and nearly miss the gift that someone has set in front of your door. Picking it up, you realize it’s one of those hot chocolate sets that come with a cute little mug and are wrapped in holographic plastic. There’s also a separate bag of marshmallows beside it.

You don’t really examine it that much, simply handing it off to Karina.

“Looks like you’ve got a secret admirer.”

One.

Karina doesn’t notice the note tucked into the holographic plastic until she’s hobbling to the trashcan to throw it away.

happy new year! maybe i’ll grow on you :)

She turns to you to ask you about it, but you’re already tucked in bed fast asleep. Shrugging, she crumples the note up and tosses it away without another thought.

“Happy New Year,” she whispers to you before crawling in bed herself.

It’s a shame you didn’t get to see the fireworks.

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

“I’m hungry,” you whine, jolting awake and hitting your head against the hard leather headrest on your seat.

“Probably because you emptied out the contents of your stomach onto my Air Jordans,” He Who Shall Not Be Named says wryly.

You ignore him, getting distracted by the hot dog vendor that you drive by.

“I like hot dogs,” you say absentmindedly.

HALLOWEEN 2021 picturing us in all these places, ahead of myself’s an understatement

You just wanted to get away from the crowd, really.

The party was getting a little stuffy, and it’s pretty easy to get overheated when you’re in a thick Teletubby onesie. You and Karina had the bright idea of dressing as the purple and red Teletubby, but neither of you considered just how hot it would get.

So, that’s why you’re wandering around the dim hallways of the office, munching on a handful of candy―only to end up hearing a conversation you shouldn’t have.

“You are my biggest failure.” That’s Mr. Lee’s voice, hushed but angry.

“More than my mom? I’m honored.” It’s Donghyuck this time. He laughs, a bitter and choked sound.

You nearly yelp when the sound of a loud slap echoes down the hallway. No one else talks after that, and you only hear the sound of footsteps walking away.

Actually, walking away sounds like an absolutely amazing idea, so you turn on your heel to make a quick escape―

And of course, on today of all days, you fuck up.

All of the candy that you had been clutching to your chest slips from your sweaty palms, clattering to the floor. Every single clatter makes you shrink further and further into yourself, and you have no choice but to step out from the corner you were hiding in.

In probably one of the most poorly-timed situations of all time, you have to face Donghyuck while dressed as the purple Teletubby, and he has to face you while dressed as a hot dog―right after you just involuntarily witnessed a glimpse of his strained familial relationships.

“Hi,” you greet awkwardly, gesturing to all the candy that just fell on the floor. “You, uh, want some candy?”

When he looks at you, all the words die in your throat. There’s a red mark on his cheek, and he looks like a little boy again. He stares at you like a deer in headlights, a mixture of horror, embarrassment, and frustration all over his face. He seems so lost and alone, and you don’t know what to do to help him.

“No thanks, Tinky Winky,” he finally replies. He gives you a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“What?” You blink.

“You’re dressed as the purple Teletubby, and you don’t even know his name?” He raises an eyebrow as he sits down on the floor, leaning against the wall.

“I think it’s weirder that you do know his name,” you try to tease.

He doesn’t react to that, and you just stand there. Not wanting to leave him alone, you squat down and start to pick up the candy on the floor to keep yourself busy.

“You should go back to the party,” Donghyuck says quietly.

“It’s too hot,” you complain.

“Y/N.”

“Wanna watch Twilight?” you suddenly ask.

He stares at you for what seems like forever, his expression unreadable as he searches your face. After a bit longer, he just says, “Okay.”

You gather up the rest of the candy before taking a seat on the floor right next to him, brushing your shoulder against his. Pulling out your phone, you open the Netflix app and start to play Twilight.

You pretend you don’t feel him trembling, and you tell yourself he’s crying because he knows Bella will eventually choose Edward over Jacob. The two of you watch in complete silence; he doesn’t explain, and you don’t ask.

Instead, you push your hood off so you don’t poke him in the face with your triangle antenna and lean your head against his shoulder. Then, you lace your fingers through his and hold his hand without a word.

A hot dog and Tinky Winky the purple Teletubby watching Twilight, who would’ve thought?

ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 sun’s up too soon like daylight savings, mixed emotions are congregating

“I hate you, Lee Donghyuck.”

He doesn’t say anything to that.

CHRISTMAS 2021 outlines on bedsides, give me a second to forget i ever really meant it

It happened on the last day of work before Christmas break.

You gawk at the opened box in your hands, a pair of fluffy white angora gloves wrapped in fancy wrapping paper staring back up at you. Even though there’s no receipt included, you already know that these gloves cost more than three month’s worth of rent for your apartment.

“Did you steal these? Is that why you’re giving them to me? So you can frame me for your crime?” you ask suspiciously.

“Please,” he rolls his eyes, “as if I’d let you take the credit for any one of my crimes.”

You carefully take the gloves out before tossing the box at him. Catching it deftly and handing it back to you, he pretends to wipe away a tear dramatically.

“I went through the trouble of remembering how your gloves were ripped during the ski trip, so I meticulously picked these out for you,” he whines. “And I can’t believe you’re now questioning my goodwill.”

That makes you pause.

Is he talking about those cheap gloves that you used only once for that disastrous ski trip and then threw out immediately afterwards? The gloves that you haven’t thought about once since then? The gloves that you had to rack your brain to recall when he started talking about them just moments before? You can’t believe he remembered something so random.

Why did he remember?

It’s a question that haunts you on the entire plane ride back to your hometown and follows you throughout all of your family dinners and even when you’re lying awake on your cramped childhood bed.

It’s a question that both baffles and angers you at the same time. You wish he didn’t remember, and you wish he never gave you those gloves in the first place. The company is always generous to their employees around the holidays, and you know that this isn’t anything special, but it makes you feel special. It makes you want to be special. To him.

He is just a pretty boy. A pretty boy that likes indie bands and wears rings on his fingers and metal-rimmed glasses on the tip of his nose. A pretty boy that likes League of Legends and Studio Ghibli and Twilight and that one Hallmark movie you once caught him watching in the break room. A pretty boy that drinks black coffee. A pretty boy that drives a red Ferrari. A pretty boy that gave you a ride in that red Ferrari when it was raining. A pretty boy that looked for you for an hour during a snowstorm. A pretty boy that dressed as a hot dog for Halloween. A pretty boy that gave you expensive gloves because he remembered.

When did he go from Pretty Boy to Donghyuck?

But he can’t be Donghyuck. He can’t just be Donghyuck to you. Because that would be too real, too unrestrained. Because Donghyuck makes Karina laugh, so he can’t make you laugh. There needs to be decorum, after all. If he’s just Donghyuck, then what happens after?

That’s right. He can’t be Donghyuck. From now on, you won’t say his name. You’ll only know him as He Who Shall Not Be Named.

It happens when your mom tells you to take the casserole out of the fridge.

You see it, that traitorous pack of hot dog sausages.

You think back to Halloween, and then―

Oh my God, I like him.

“What the fuck,” you groan loudly.

That gets you a couple of gasps from your elderly relatives and an asswhooping from your mom.

ONE DAY AFTER ST. PATRICK’S DAY 2022 ― PRESENT fast times and fast nights, no time for rewrites

For the record, Donghyuck was not looking at Karina.

And if you’d stop avoiding him like the plague, he would be able to explain that to you.

He honestly applauds your ability to ignore the elephant in the room, considering that his cubicle is right next to yours. You’ve continuously managed to give yourself more work or conveniently slip away to the bathroom during any moment of down time. His patience is honestly starting to grow thin, but you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t wear it down to the wire.

Donghyuck finally manages to hunt you down in the same hallway where you threw up on his shoes. It’s hilariously ironic, and he would normally make a joke about it, but he’s in a bit of a time crunch. You look like a spooked cat, preparing to dart away the moment there’s an opening.

“Surely, someone as smart as you is aware that you can’t just avoid me forever.” He tilts his head.

“Well, if you move, we can find out if I can or not,” you reply, refusing to look at him and trying to walk past him.

“How’s your hangover?” he asks cheerfully, stepping to the side and blocking your way.

“Awful.”

“Do you remember what happened last night?”

“No,” you say instantly. You’re such a terrible liar.

“You said you hated me,” he starts softly. He isn’t sure why he’s saying this. This isn’t what he wanted to talk about first. The order is getting jumbled in his head. “Do you?”

You suck in a wobbly breath. “No.”

It doesn’t hit him until after your answer how deathly afraid he was of you hating him. He has grown so desensitized to the word “hate,” yet it’s only when it comes to the person he cares about the most that the gravity of that word becomes so apparent.

“I like you, Y/N.”

This isn’t exactly the grand declaration of love that he was imagining; he was thinking more along the lines of The Notebook or any romcom from the early to mid-2000s, but it felt like the right time to just say it now.

Your reaction isn’t exactly what he had in mind either.

You’re gawking at him like he just grew another head. He isn’t sure why you’re so surprised; he hasn’t exactly been subtle about his crush on you.

“No, you don’t,” you say in an accusatory tone. Leave it up to you to even argue with him on his own feelings.

Now it’s his turn to gawk. “What?”

“You don’t like me,” you state firmly, but it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself. “How could you like me?”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, and he starts listing off reasons with his fingers. “I start a fight with you every morning because I want to have an excuse to talk to you, I bring you coffee everyday, I drove you to my client’s office in the middle of a storm so you could take back said client, I nearly shat my pants when they said you were missing at the ski resort and also bought you hot chocolate and a huge bag of marshmallows for New Years, and you were the only one I gave a Christmas present to last year.”

“You bought the hot chocolate and marshmallows?” You blink in surprise.

“Is that all you got from what I just said?”

“But Karina―”

Oh, right. He wanted to say this first.

“I wasn’t looking at Karina,” Donghyuck finally confesses, “I was looking at you. It’s always been you.”

That’s right, it’s only ever been you.

The stupid green “Kiss me, I’m Irish” shirt. Your smeared lip gloss that he wanted to kiss right off. The sparkly stickers all over your cheeks that made you look absolutely adorable. The way you buried your face into his shirt. How you fit right into his arms. Even when you threw up all over his favorite pair of shoes, there was no place Donghyuck would rather be.

Do you think I’m pretty? you had asked him.

Yes, you’re pretty. You’re so pretty that he feels like his heart will stop every time he lays his eyes on you. You’re so pretty that he can’t even think about the seasons without thinking about you and how you’re so much more beautiful than autumn, winter, spring and summer and anything in between. There’s never been a moment when you weren’t stunningly, breathtakingly, and heart-stoppingly pretty in his eyes.

“But―But that doesn’t make any sense,” you sputter, “You can’t like me!”

“Why not?”

“Because you just can’t.”

“Do you like me?”

“Yes―no! Regardless, you can’t just suddenly decide you like me―” you begin to explain.

“I’ve always liked you,” he points out.

“We’ve spent four years hating each other, and now all of sudden, we like each other? It’s too abrupt―”

“Y/N.” Donghyuck reaches over and grasps your wrist, his warm fingers against your even warmer skin as his thumb traces circles against the back of your hand. “Will you go out with me?”

When he looks at you, you have the same expression on your face as when he first met you and caught you staring at his Twilight poster. Your eyes dart around nervously, your pulse pounding against his fingertips, and he knows he has his answer.

“Okay,” you breathe.

He sighs, coiling an arm around your waist and pulling your body flush against his. Leaning his forehead against yours, he whispers, “Now was that so fucking hard?”

He kisses you, and you taste like everything he’s ever dreamed of and more.

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