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atlabeth · 3 months

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price of dreaming

series masterlist

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader

summary: luke's spiral and the part you play in it.

a/n: this is so sad i'm sorry. like it's just a couple thousand words of luke being sad with a cute little flashback and a percy mention to make it all more sad. i don't know what's wrong with me why did i start writing this series

wc: 4.1k

warning(s): pretty severe angst bc this takes place after hurricane's death and goes up to mid tlt. death ideation, minor descriptions of injuries, luke isn't the best person, just a whole lot of sadness.

Luke returns to camp two weeks after your death, nothing more than a shell of himself.

Half of his time was spent sitting in an interrogation room in a Boston police station, mumbling his way through questions he doesn’t know how to answer. It’s not every day that a teenage girl is found nearly ripped apart in the middle of a city with her boyfriend completely broken next to her. Two EMTs had to literally drag him away from you—at least, that’s what they tell Luke. Everything after your heartbeat stopped is a blur for him. He doesn’t really even know how he got to the station.

And that’s how it is for a while. He talks to detectives who don’t believe him, he stares at the wall and wishes you were here, he goes home with your mom. She’s being asked just as many questions, and she refuses to leave him out on the street or take him back to camp. She doesn’t understand that Luke’s done it all before.

Eventually, the officers settle on a freak animal attack. It didn’t make sense for an animal capable of doing that to be in the city, but mortals see what they want to see. Luke is just thankful to be out of it.

But he doesn’t know what to do next. There’s a huge gaping hole in his chest and in his life without you, and he doesn’t know how to live without you. Every time Luke closes his eyes he sees your face, and he hasn’t been able to sleep through the night since it happened. He only really manages to stay out when his body practically shuts down from exhaustion.

Your mom treats Luke like a second son while he’s living with her, and it pains him more than anything. She asks him if he wants to stay with her, try and finish out the semester. He was surprised she still wanted anything to do with him.

Luke declined. He loved your mom, but being in that apartment without you—walking past your room and knowing you would never be there again, seeing a space you carved out for yourself knowing the most integral part was missing—was just too much for him. The full reality of you being gone still hadn’t sunk in yet.

He’s soured on the city of Boston as a whole. He’s felt your blood on his hands since the moment it stained his fingers, and for as long as Luke lives he will never forget the look on your mother’s face when she showed up at the police station.

Your mom offers to drive him back to camp, and though he wants to say no to that as well, he doesn’t. Luke can tell that she needs a distraction, and he doesn’t really know how else he’s gonna get back to camp. They don’t talk very much on the way there, but neither of them burst into tears, so he considers it a victory.

She parks at the bottom of the hill and hugs him so tightly he can’t breathe, but he welcomes any kind of feeling.

“Stay safe, Luke,” she says, her hands on his shoulders. “And if you ever need a place to stay—”

“I know,” he interrupts. “And I’ll try.”

She nods a few times, and she blinks back tears as she looks up at him. “Thank you for everything you did for my daughter. For all those years that you kept her safe.”

It clearly wasn’t enough, Luke wants to say. If it was, he wouldn’t have lost you back then, and he wouldn’t have lost you now. But that wouldn’t help anyone, so he nods. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his throat still dry as a desert.

“Always.”

“I know how much you meant to each other,” she says softly. “I’m so sorry, Luke.”

He holds back his emotions. “So am I.”

Your mom nods again and they say their goodbyes once more, hugging one last time. When Luke reaches the top of the hill, he looks back to see her still standing there. He wishes he could do something to ease the pain, but he doesn’t even know how to deal with his own.

Luke stops at Thalia’s tree, and he already feels that lump in his throat.

“I hope you’re together in Elysium,” he murmurs. “I always thought you would like each other.”

The beginnings of tears prick the back of his eyes and he clears his throat, shaking his head like it’ll help silence the millions of thoughts scattered around his brain. If Thalia lives on like this, he hopes your spirit is still around somewhere.

“I love you,” he says quietly. “And I’m sorry I failed both of you.”

Nobody at camp knows. How could they?

Luke wasn’t expected back until the summer, though, so his presence at the top of the hill is telling in of itself. Especially alone.

He ignores everyone that tries to talk to him and gets to the Big House to break the news to Chiron. Thankfully, when he dissolves into tears, it’s behind closed doors. Chiron takes it in a saddened stride, and Luke wonders how many heroes have died in his lifetime.

You have no siblings to make a burial shroud, so the Athena cabin takes up the responsibility. Annabeth invites him to take part, but he can hardly stomach the thought.

It��s beautiful. They emulate the ocean through embroidery and Annabeth even gets a little Red Sox patch in. They let Luke burn it, and he’s amazed he even makes it through the ceremony. But the entire camp shows up, and there isn’t a single dry eye. He hopes you at least know how many people care about you.

Chris takes over as counselor for the indefinite future, which is probably a good thing when Luke can barely muster the strength to get out of bed most days. He picks at his food when he’s able to make it to meals, and his prayers to Hermes have never felt emptier. He used to do one for Poseidon every so often, especially when you were at school, but the thought makes him sick. His eyes never stop trailing over to Cabin Three’s table.

The Poseidon cabin is empty again.

Luke doesn’t fully realize the path he’s taken until he’s standing in the doorway and the scent of salty air hits him. He’s so used to hanging out with you after dinner that he just went there automatically.

It feels unfinished. It is unfinished. You had a whole box of things back in Boston that you wanted to bring back to camp to decorate.

Your posters still hang on the walls—Blondie, Pearl Jam, Alanis Morisette. Fairy lights are falling down in the corner, and they’re unplugged. Luke had to remind you to unplug them before you left for the school year.

You should be standing next to him, smiling and laughing and dragging him in behind you as you rant about capture the flag or the canoe race you definitely didn’t cheat in. He blinks away the tears building in his eyes and he takes a step back.

You should be here. You’re not.

(How many more times is he going to end up here chasing ghosts?)

There are some things a person just can’t get over.

And that’s how his days go. He barely manages to get out of bed, picks at meals that taste like sand, musters what little strength he has to lead sword lessons, endures pitiful looks and sympathetic speeches.

Luke gets lost in the past more than he should, oftentimes sitting on the beach talking to you as he watches the waves roll in or sneaking out to the dock in the middle of the night to be in the company of the only person he can stand.

By the time summer comes back around, Luke is sure of three things.

He isn’t ever going to be the same again.

You should still be alive.

He won’t rest until he’s torn Olympus down brick by brick.

“It’s quiet here,” Luke said.

“That’s what happens when you don’t have any siblings,” you murmured.

His eyes trailed over to the door and you nudged him with your shoulder. “What do you keep looking over there for? Scared someone’s gonna catch us?”

He shrugged. “We’re technically not allowed to be in here together.”

“They can’t say anything,” you said. “We’re both counselors. And no one’s in this place anyways. Besides,” you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips, “we’ve earned all the time in the world.”

Luke smiled and snaked an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. “You think so?”

“We lost two years together,” you said, laying your head on his chest. “Far as I’m concerned, no one can say a damn thing to us.”

“It always feels like we talk about the past,” he said. “What about the future?”

“All I know is I want you in it,” you mused. You always loved resting on his chest because you could hear his heartbeat, could feel the slight rise and fall from his breathing. It meant he was alive, and after what you’d been through, that was more valuable than anything.

“Obviously,” Luke said coyly. “I want you in mine too. But what about the details?”

“We gotta finish high school first,” you said. “Have you thought about what I said?”

“...Yeah,” he nodded. “It’s just been a while since I’ve left camp. Going back to school seems rough for someone who hasn’t been in classes since elementary school.”

You shook your head. “Which is exactly why my school would be perfect for you. We left at the same age, remember?” You took his hand and began to trace the lines of his palm. “It took some getting used to, but I made it. If I can, so can you—and I’ll help you every step of the way.”

Luke chuckled softly. “I’m a little worried about leaving Annabeth.”

“Annabeth of all people would support you going for your education,” you said. “And it’s not like she’ll be on her own—everyone likes her here.”

“...Talk me through it,” Luke decided. “Say we both go back for the school year. What does a sophomore year for the two of us back in Boston look like?”

“Well, we’d be living together. We have an extra room in our apartment, and I’m sure I can convince my mom to let you take it.” You let out a sigh as you shifted, moving closer into Luke’s side. “We’d take the T together to school, but you don’t have to worry because I can show you around everywhere.”

He chuckled. "I could use a refresher on Boston. Don't have the fondest memories there."

"We'll just make some new ones," you promised. “I’m on the soccer team, too. I was JV this year, but I’m gonna make varsity next fall—mark my words.”

Luke rubbed your shoulder as he hummed. “And I’d come to every game.”

“You better.” You glanced up at him with a smile. “You could try out for something too. I think you’d make a killing in basketball.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Do you not remember all those pick-up games we played when we were younger and bored? I was gods-awful.”

“This’ll be different,” you insisted. “You’ll actually be sleeping on a bed every night, and eating consistently. I think that makes you a better athlete. Plus, you’re not three feet tall anymore.”

Luke laughed as he intertwined your fingers together. “The star soccer player and the mediocre basketball player. We make quite a couple.”

“You’d be better than mediocre,” you said. “Anyways—we’d play our sports and kill it, I’d introduce you to all the friends I made last year, I’d show you all around Boston, and I’d get you hooked on the Red Sox.”

He leaned back against the headboard with a chuckle. “You’re really never gonna let this go, are you?”

“It’s my sovereign duty to put you onto the Red Sox,” you said, “especially surrounded by all these Yankees. I’m gonna get you to a game one of these days. And after we kill sophomore year, we’ll kill junior and senior year.” You tapped on his chest for each year with your free hand, and his smile grew. “Then we’ll graduate high school together. With honors, and monster-free.”

“You have such high standards,” Luke said wryly. “I’ve always thought I’d be lucky to pass with C’s.”

“You haven’t always had me,” you mused. “And when we’re together, we can’t lose.”

Luke smiled as he looked at your intertwined hands. “Y’know, I think your plan sounds pretty good. I’m pretty sure I could put up with school if it meant more time with you.”

You leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his lips. Luke moved his hand to keep you there, and when you pulled away, a delicate blush painted his cheeks and pure love danced in his eyes. You couldn’t help but smile.

You were the luckiest girl in the world.

“Thank you,” you said.

Luke offered a sideways grin. “For what?”

You shrugged. “For being you.”

“Thank you, then,” he said.

“For what?”

“For sticking with me,” Luke said. “Through everything.”

“I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else,” you murmured.

The second year isn’t any easier.

Luke is back to being year-round. There’s no point in going home—not when Connecticut hasn’t welcomed him in years. Not when he would just be another problem for your mother in the midst of her grief.

So he stays at camp. Endures the pitiful looks from everyone, lies his way through attempted therapy with Chiron, trains more than ever before. No one seems to know how to treat him, because he goes from completely alone to swarmed with sympathy to completely alone again. It takes two months before his friends are acting like he’s a normal person again, and even then it still feels like they’re walking on glass.

Luke can’t find enough inside of him to care.

He practices with his sword until he feels like his arms might fall off, only narrowly avoiding the harpies each night. His siblings ask how he does it, why he does it, and he just says he wants to get better.

But Luke refuses to let it happen again—not when his surrogate sister is all he has left. Not when he sees you every time he closes his eyes.

His birthday comes and goes, but seventeen is empty without you. He replays your past conversations in his head, about traveling together and graduating together and maybe even going to college together. Demigods aren’t meant to think about the future, but he dared to dream with you.

And the worst part was that you were right. You made varsity. You were in the middle of killing sophomore year, despite Luke struggling his way through with C’s and the occasional D—you had always been smarter than him. You got him out to a Red Sox game, and gods forbid, he actually enjoyed it.

You were living the life you deserved, a life of happiness and success and with Luke, and you didn’t even make it past sophomore year. You were meant for so much more, and every day he questions why it was taken from you. Every day, he questions why you’re gone and he’s not.

The year chugs on in all its misery, and for the first time since he all but rejected him as his son, Hermes appears to Luke.

His father gives him a quest, and he takes it despite the inherent insult of it. Maybe some part of him hopes he’ll die out there and finally get to see you again.

(Another part wonders if he’s even worth Elysium. Luke lost you once, then he lost Thalia, and now he’s lost you again. Some kind of hero he is.)

He goes it alone. It takes him back to the first couple of months before he met you, and when the thought hits him, it almost overwhelms him. Everything makes Luke think of you, but it makes sense. He’s only living half a life—he’s missing the other half of his soul.

Luke fails his quest. He manages to get a claw and he manages to nearly lose an eye. There’s no glory in a repeated quest, but there might be even less glory in this.

And once more, Luke staggers back to camp as a victim rather than a hero. Someone only worthy of pity, someone so weak that Chiron bans quests unless they’re absolutely necessary. It takes weeks for the scars on his body to heal, and the mark on his face even longer. He becomes well-acquainted with the cycle of Apollo kids that take shifts in the infirmary.

He feels nothing but disgust every time he looks in the mirror. After all, the claw marks ripping their way through his body match yours. Sometimes he wishes Ladon finished the job.

It doesn’t make sense why, after everything, he’s still here.

Luke can hardly stand to be at camp, but he’s got nowhere else to go. He gets better at hiding his emotions, better at acting like he’s gotten through it. New demigods show up and he’s not the bereaved counselor anymore—he’s not introduced with his grief. He hides it away.

No one wants to deal with all the problems he’s racked up. His mom, his dad, Thalia, you. He’s a demigod. Demigods are resilient. So he plays the part—he’s been through a lot, but he’s past it. He promises he’s not a burden anymore. He’s just a normal kid.

And for a while, Luke is almost able to believe it himself. He’s never going to be over you, but he starts feeling like a person again rather than a ghost of one. He’s fully taken over the mantle of counselor again, and he’s actually present during sword-fighting lessons. He even manages to get a six-month-long capture the flag winning streak going on.

And then Kronos appears in his dreams.

Luke knows Greek mythology. It’s hard not to pick up a couple things when you’re fighting stuff from the history books, but they teach some lessons at camp. It’s nice to know what you’re up against before you die a brutal death.

Kronos killed his father. He ate his children. Every wicked deed was done for power, and power is what he offers Luke.

And maybe there’s something wrong with him, because it’s the first time he’s felt hope since he left Boston.

Luke finally has an answer to something. He’s been silently cursing the gods for years, trying to figure out a way to tear everything down without getting himself immediately killed, and he’s got one.

Kronos speaks to him most nights. He remembers the dreams you shared with him in your final year, all the restless hours spent sitting together on the fire escape as he soothed you. You thought Kronos was the reason for it, but he couldn’t have been. His dreams were nothing like yours.

But still, Luke wonders every day what you would say if you were here, if you knew the treacherous path he’d embarked on. Kronos promised power, freedom, an end to Olympus and the reign of the gods.

He doesn’t care about power. He just wants to hold you again. He wants to hear your laugh again. He wants to see your smile in more than pictures.

But he can’t. And he wants to destroy everyone responsible for it.

So he does everything the Titan Lord asks of him. He hones his skills even further, he lays low, and when the time is right, he steals Zeus’s bolt and Hades’ helm. Luke even nearly beats Ares when he’s caught, but Kronos doesn’t lead him astray—he speaks of divine war, and he gets out of it.

He continues to see you. Kronos doesn’t lead him astray, but he punishes him for such a close call. Luke wakes in the middle of the night, eyes wide and chest heaving with labored breaths, and he feels your blood on his hands all over again. He sees you die over and over again and he can do nothing to stop it.

You always told each other about your nightmares.

That’s the hardest part of it all. You’ve always been so closely intertwined with Luke’s life since the moment he saved you in that aquarium years ago, and he can’t see any way to let go of you. He can’t—even though you’re gone, you’re still a part of him. His first instinct in any situation is to tell you, and it kills him that he can’t.

And maybe things would have turned out different for Luke if you were still around. He’s never going to forgive himself for your death, and he’s certainly never going to forgive the gods. Thalia pushed him to the edge, but you were the breaking point. Luke is only nineteen and he’s loved and lost more than most.

Maybe things would be different if you were here. But you’re not, and they aren’t. So when a new demigod shows up, covered in monster dust and nearly dead on camp’s doorstep with Grover in tow, Luke doesn’t hesitate.

He killed the Minotaur, and his mom is dead. Skilled enough to take on a quest, desperate enough to ignore a couple warning signs. Percy Jackson is the boy Kronos told him about.

So Luke takes him under his wing. Shows him around camp, welcomes him to the Hermes cabin, trains with him one-on-one.

Something about his spirit reminds him of you. It’s the grit, he thinks. The determination. The refusal to back down even when it’s the smartest option. When he asks about you that night in the Hermes cabin, Luke’s heart stutters. The kid is too sharp for his liking.

It doesn’t take long before Luke manages to cement himself as one of his friends, maybe only third to Annabeth and Grover. He’s a lost kid that’s been thrust into a world he doesn’t understand, and Luke is the closest thing to a rock most campers have got.

It’s supposed to just be a guise, but sometimes, he forgets himself. He likes Percy too much—he just feels too much like a younger brother, and that’s not really good for the already growing guilt in his chest.

Maybe it’s because Luke sees himself in Percy. Someone playing a part he’s not aware of, an unfortunate pawn with no choice in the matter. Luke tries to push it away. Kronos wouldn’t lead him astray—this was the path he had to take if he wanted anything to change.

But it’s not like that makes it easier. Because gods, Percy has never looked more like a kid than when he’s suited up in armor for capture the flag. It almost makes Luke regret the plan he has to enact.

Almost.

Annabeth has a plan as usual, and thankfully Percy plays the part of bait. Luke tunes out of everything else and lets his battle senses take over—things have already been set into play, and now all Luke can do is hide in plain sight. Soon enough he’s got the red team’s flag past the boundary line, and he’s hoisted up onto his teammates shoulders. Luke is almost able to forget what he’s done.

…Almost.

A howl rips through the forest, and the hellhound Luke summoned after the start of the game launches itself at Percy. He’s on the ground before he knows it, the flag forgotten in his hand as he rushes over with the rest of the campers.

For some ungodly reason, Annabeth tries to step in front of him, but she’s thankfully too slow. The monster swipes at Percy and its claws shred through his armor. For a split second, Luke is back in Boston and his chest stills.

Chiron solves the problem with a cluster of arrows, but the camp is in immediate disarray. Clarisse instantly accuses Percy, Annabeth is trying to make sure Percy doesn’t die, and Luke just hopes his shock is believable enough to hide his annoyance. He’s just a scrawny kid—how the hell is he still alive? But then the unthinkable happens.

Annabeth tells Percy to step back in the lake. The instant he’s in the water, what should have been a fatal wound starts to heal.

And then a glowing blue trident appears above Percy Jackson’s head.

Luke feels sick as he lowers himself to one knee with the rest of camp. As the hellhound he summoned melts into the shadows, as he stares at the sacrificial lamb of a demigod meant to unknowingly enact his plan.

“Poseidon,” Chiron says. “Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses. Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

Your brother.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #pjo x reader #x reader #daughter of poseidon #child of poseidon #sadie writes

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star-suh · 6 months

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Fighting in The Streets, Fucking in The Sheets

Lee Juyeon x Male Reader

cw: college au, top juyeon, enemies to lovers prompt, kinda fluffy sex, fluff at the end, fingering, blowjob, spit as lube, unprotected sex, creampie.

an: decided to stop using the / in yn bcs it's so annoying and i'm lazy.

—

yn is one of the best student of class A, he is one of those feisty nerds who is not afraid to stand up against someone who is bothering him.

on the other side there's lee juyeon, the polar opposite. he is a lazy person who doesn't do anything in class, he just sits in the back to do nothing with his friends, he is not a bully but if he has to confront someone he will do it.

“ok class silence” shouted the teacher "today i’m going to assign you a homework and it would be in pairs, and no juyeon you can go back to your seat, i'm the one choosing them" she said with a devilish smile while juyeon went back to his seat silently.

“... and finally lee juyeon with ln yn”, “please no” yn shouted “anyone but that good-for-nothing, can i do it alone please?", "good-for-nothing? who are you calling a good-for-nothing son of a bit-".

“well, both of you, shut up” the teacher cut juyeon's speech “i don't care if you can't stand each other's asses, but i'm waiting for that homework on my desk the other week, did you hear?" she said sternly.

“hey loser, your house or mine?” asked juyeon while chewing gum, “mine of course i don't want to put my feet on your pigsty house” said y/n laughing at the other's red angry face. “this bitch” juyeon spit out his chewing gum towards the other male and then grabbed him by his collar and cornered him towards a wall. "listen to me, you idiot, i'm not interested in doing a homework with you either, but i don't want to lose the subject, so yes or yes, we have to do it." juyeon let go of yn and when he turned out to leave a hand smacked his head “you forgot your gum dumbass” a scandalous laugh left yn's mouth only to be silenced seconds later by juyeon's fist.

someone was knocking on the door and yn already had an idea who it was and despite he does not want to, he would have to receive him. he opened the door and there he was, juyeon with light scratches in his beautiful face "ugh you look like shit" yn says with a disgusted face. juyeon just looks at him with a frown "and you look like diarrhea. let me in".

the room was in an awkward silence, both avoided looking at themselves while they concentrated on finishing the task. yesterday after juyeon hit yn, the fight continued for a few moments. the nerd managed to leave some light bruises and scratches on juyeon's face but he was the most affected, his lower lip was split, he have a small bruise next to his eye and some scratches in his cheeks.

yn accidentally hurts his lip from which blood begins to flow, juyeon is shocked by this and grabs the sleeve of his jacket to put pressure on the wound "you are doing a lot for a simple cut. it's not like my heart is going to burst out over there" yn murmurs. "can you shut up for once in your life?.. do you have anything to apply in your wound?" juyeon asks and yn just points to where the first aid kit is.

“there, it's done” juyeon puts the items in the kit but still keeps staring at yn's lips. the tension begins to increase… until juyeon throws himself towards yn eating his mouth. at first he resisted but when after feeling the other's soft lips he simply let himself go and began to enjoy the sensation. “eager much?” joked yn, “hmm” said juyeon introducing his fingers on the other's mouth “make that mouth of yours useful”.

clothes were discarded very quickly, both were desperate for each other, finally being capable of breaking the tension that was being built up since god knows when.

one by one each digit entered yn's hole, juyeon making a scissors motion to open the hole. "so tight for me" he laughed, showing that perfect smile to the feisty nerd. "i wonder what you taste like" and without any warning juyeon took yn's dick into his mouth, savoring the almost salty taste of his pre-cum “just as i imagined” he smacked his lips..

juyeon's tip is entering yn's hole “you're still so fucking tight relax a bit” growled the top, resting his forehead on yn's shoulder. “it's easy for you to say that you're not the one being wrecked right now” yn cried. with subtle movements juyeon started thrusting “for being a bully you're being very gentle” the words slurred out of yn's mouth. “i'm not a bully for you information” immediately after saying that, juyeon kissed the other boy to shut him up. “spit here” demanded juyeon and the other guy obeyed. juyeon then spits on that same hand, pulls out his cock and smears it with the saliva mixture, causing gushy and sloppy sounds when he introduces it again.

they were in a doggy style position now, juyeon's hands started to leave marks on yn's hips as he was squeezing him very hard due to his rough thrusts. “please harder” moaned yn “i need you… to feel you” at this point yn was admitting that he had already imagined doing this with juyeon and this didn't went unnoticed by the top who kissed the other's back and whispered “i need you too”.

the skin slapping sound was loud, juyeon slammed himself hard on yn's ass, his hands being marked on the ass cheeks in a bright red color. “i'm feeling so good. do you feel good too?” grunted the top. “yeah… yeah i do- so good i feel so goo-hngh…” moaned the bottom.

juyeon started to pull out and then slam his cock back in a few times until he began to feel that he was going to cum "shit i’m going to cum" he takes out his cock and begins to stroke his dick so fast looking for that delicious sensation "fuck–" he grunted spilling all his cum over yn's hole that opened and closed as if it wanted to eat the other's seed.

“shit nerd i came a lot” he said catching his breath, “now it's your turn, cum for me”. yn began to stroke his hard dick, hooded and teary eyes looking directly at juyeon's ones. the katter trying to help him to release spat on his tip and then sucked on his balls “come on, cum for me” seconds later the white liquid came out of the tip of his dick, staining the other's face with it, "yummy" said the other, sucking the sensitive dick until it was clean…

the following days the relationship between them improved, going from one of rivals to one of friends with benefits that slowly transformed into one of lovers. juyeon was playing a football game and when he scored a goal, he ran towards where the audience was, more exactly where yn was sitting. he took out a bouquet of flowers and a sign from god knows where that said 'yn do you want to be my boyfriend?' the entire audience screamed with excitement. the boy blushed and felt a bit embarrassed, however, he responded excited "yes, i really want to” he came down from the stands running towards the boy to give him a kiss full of love.

#lee juyeon x male reader #juyeon x male reader #juyeon x male reader smut #lee juyeon x male reader smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

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cat3ch1sm · 6 months

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hihi! i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if u could do killua and gon with a reader whos a silly, clumsy, and kinda dumb mf <3

except readers very powerful, on level or even more than them bc reader is a boss fr 🙏

this can be hcs or a oneshot or whatever u want!

(SORRY IF THIS MAKES NO SENSE LMFAO)

☘️~ DW POOKIE I UNDERSTOOD U PERFECTLY!! thanks 4 requestingg ily <33

gn!reader

𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐰 𝐚 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <𝟑

୨⎯ 𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐚 ⎯୧

killua usually doesn’t have a lot of patience for people with your personality , but he’s honestly seen what you’re actually capable of so he’s more like.. weirded out

as in like, killua knows you’re crazy powerful and generally super capable- so how the hell do you literally manage to trip over every minor obstacle in your path

but tbh gon has kinda warmed him up to those kinds of people. outside of battle situations it’s basically him making sure you and gon don’t get kidnapped or killed or something

and the contrast between your personality during battle and your personality on just a regular day chilling with him and gon is like insane to him. one minute you’re covered in blood and utilizing blazing nen in ways he didn’t even realize were possible, and next you’ve pulled up like a really stupid meme or picture of a cat on your phone and just giggling like an idiot while showing him (and very much still bloodied).

killua asked you about it once and you just kinda gave him that thousand yard stare and he was just like… nvm

apparently your higher functions just shut off after a certain time 😭😭

but back to the clumsy part. because it’s genuinely insane how careless you can be on a daily basis. worse than gon.

“watch out for the fucking pole, y/n!”

“are you even paying attention?”

“what the hell did you even just trip over, you dumbass? there’s nothing even there.”

“holy shit can you be careful for once??”

“I literally watched you take down 10 chimera ants without breaking a sweat and you can’t even pull a push door, you idiot?”

“no, i’m not letting go of your arm because that’s the tenth time you’ve tripped in the past fifteen minutes. you’ll probably kill yourself if i don’t hold your ass up.”

“way to go, dumbass, now you cut your leg. maybe you’ll be less stupid next time” (while begrudgingly fixing you up)

along with being clumsy you can be super absent-minded and get distracted easily. like gon and killua will just be walking and talking and then suddenly stop and realize you stopped like ten feet ago to stare at absolutely fucking nothing.

when they backtrack to get you they’ll be like “wtf are you staring at” and you’ll just snap out of a daze and they’ll realize you weren’t even staring at anything in particular, you just…zoned out😭😭😭

“y/n. y/n? hellooooo? ugh… nevermind.”

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐠𝐨𝐧 ࿐ྂ

we all know gon isn’t actually the silly, slightly air headed kid from the early days of hxh, obviously- but when he’s just with you and killua and there isn’t any danger, you both basically act the same way. believe me yall got killua stressinggg 😭😭

u guys just fuel each others’ silly antics. and while he isn’t as clumsy as you can be, when u guys are together you guys r genuinely a two man wrecking team. you guys are constantly doing silly and sometimes stupid stuff and not at all focusing.

far too many times you both have been walking or running beside each other and just stumbled over each other’s feet and fell to the ground like actual idiots.

you and gon both have the same tendency to get distracted easily. so basically the same scenario from killua’s hcs but you and gon lmfao

he’ll be walking looking at his phone or something and realize the both of you aren’t even beside him anymore.

“y/n? gon? where… you gotta be kidding me. guys. what the hell are you even looking at?!”

little Christmas head canon- you guys absolutely knocked down the tree at least twice.

#anime #hxh headcanons #hxh memes #hunter x hunter #gon x reader #reader x gon #gon freecss headcanons #gon freecss #killua zoldyck x you #reader x killua zoldyck #killua x you #reader x killua #killua zoldyck x reader #killua hc #killua headcanons #killua x reader #killua hxh #killugon #reader x gon free as

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cringefail-clown · 3 months

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Jakehal is very fun. But why dirkkri? I dont understand what's appealing about it :? confused

theres a lot of things i like about dirkri and honestly i dont even know where to start lmfao

first of all, and its mostly a funny reason - davekat on crack. like some traces of davekat are still there - the arguing about shit, stoic facade vs emotional mess, all the good stuff, but its also so much more exaggerated it makes it this much more ridiculous. gets even better when you consider them under the lense of swap aus like alphaswitch or tbau, where they land on the meteor together. theyre most likely hunting each other for sports by the year two

second of all, the funney. theyd be so fucking funny together. their smallest arguments would take like twenty pages of non-stop flow of red-orange text to resolve, and not because they came to a consensus but because some third party physically dragged them away from their electronics. it doesnt do any good, since it only gives them both time to think over new arguments to use, and theyre back at it as soon as they get their phones back. like if we had a tournament about which ship would do the most collateral damage to the overall group, i think these two would be Up There. karkat would gauge his eyes out from frustration, because now not only does he have to deal with his piece of shit, know-it-all other self, but now theres also Fucking Dirk thrown into the mix. their home life is absolute insanity, a small jab about the other forgetting to buy sugar once again devolves into a screaming match about the merits and flaws of communism or some other inane shit. and theyre doing it for fun, they enjoy debating with each other, because often times they have vastly different opinions, and comparing their beliefs challenges them intelectually and morally. from the outside perspective theyre one of the most dysfunctional pair in the paradox space, when in fact thats simply how they want their relationship to be, and it makes them better people overall.

third reason is that theyre thematically delicious. dirk is a control freak, micromanaging his and his friends constantly. hes terrified of losing control, but hes also desperate for someone to just tell him what the fuck he should do. dirk doesnt think he should be in control of others, because he believes hes a naturally evil person capable of horrible acts, at the same time he doesnt trust anyone else to get things done but himself. hes a whole collection of contradictions.

kankri desperately needs to be in control as well. hes constantly injecting himself into conversations he has no business being in, trying to find someone thatd listen to what he has to say. hes wants to guide others, but his efforts are flawed, because he doesnt listen to other perspectives - hes got tunnel vision, as he thinks hes the one in the right while everyone else is wrong or ignorant (cringefail seer literally). he doesnt trust anyone else to make decisions for him, and becomes defensive when he thinks others are attempting to coddle him. his ass was definitely culled on beforus.

theyre also both so fucking lonely. dirk conciously tries to put difference between himself and his friends, worrying hell "corrupt" them. kankri tries to connect to his friends, but his behavior alienates him from them to the point of no one except maybe porrim want to have anything to do with him.

my point is, kankri wants to guide people but has to learn to listen to others and reflect on his own flawed opinions. dirk has to learn to trust that people closest to him can get shit done on their own and loosen up, as well as realise hes not evil at the core. them helping each other out - dirk teaching kankri about different perspectives, kankri teaching dirk about letting others do their thing - is something i think about a lot.

also i like to think theyd spar for fun a lot as well. its not really a reason and wholly my own personal headcanon but i wanna mention it as well bc its so funny to me. i like the idea of kankris behaviour being a complete reverse of karkat - where karkat is all bark no bite and doesnt like fighting or violence, kankri puts up a front of the beacon of love and peace and tolerance, but in his free time he gets his rifle and goes shooting at the fucking squirrels or some shit. i think he wouldnt have the same qualms about strifing as karkat. like dirk would try to jokingly jab his finger at kankris side and he would just fucking flip him over his shoulder and onto the table breaking it in half, because he doesnt like being touched unexpectedly and by gods dirk when will you fucking learn. he goes from 0 to 100 real fast. its such a hysterical concept for me.

#homestuck #dirk strider #kankri vantas #dirkri #dirkkri #turnabout au #homestuck turnabout #alphaswitch #tagging it as well bc well. dirkri #is it dirkri manifesto? its dirkri manifesto #wally where are you i need your words tell em tell em why dirkri is so fucking good

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 30 days

Text

All My Scars

The stories behind one of the scars each of the twst cast has SOME ARE WAY ANGSTIER THAN OTHERS OKAY please read the tw and the tags, and like the stuff in brackets under characters names that have them for a heads up...what Specifically their section covers

TW: SH, abuse, Bad Parents (specified in the reading), references to alcoholism, implied SA survivor, and some OOC stuff bc I like making Cater cry sorry PROCEED WITH CAUTION FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, apologies for inconsistencies

IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ. Here's my masterlist to some fluffier stuff if you still want to check out my writing. Thank you!

I'll be doing a fluffier version of this some other time, like dumbest childhood injuries they had or something, so if this ain't for you, please hold! --------------------------------------------------------------------

"How did you get your scar(s)?"

Heartslaybul

Riddle The question caught him off guard. He glanced down at his hand where your thumb ran over the small indentations on the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, a small smile kicking up the corner of his mouth.

"That was Che'nya. When we were kids." You looked at him, your silence prompting him to continue.

He smiled a little more, gently pulling his hand from yours to look at the scars left there, laughing softly, though a bit pained.

"I wasn't prepared to receive very much physical affection, but Che'nya couldn't really help himself. He said if hugs were off the table, he just wanted to nibble." He chuckles softly "Of course he didn't give me much of a warning, though Trey tried to stop him before he bit me. It was a shock at the time, but both of them explained it was an expression of affection...I confirmed it later on in an article on the behaviours of beastmen. Trey was used to getting bites from Che'nya, but usually with less pent up energy. Nonetheless, he helped me take care of it before I had to return home."

His brow furrowed a bit as he sighed.

"Of course, my mother noticed eventually, the divots on my hand. It was the first and only time I ever outright lied to her - lies of omission aside. I know she didn't believe me when I told her it was just me being clumsy with my pencil, but I suppose it was a tender mercy she didn't have time to deal with me that day." He looked at the divots a little longer, a particular softness in his expression.

"They're the only scars I have. I find it rather ironic that the only imperfection I carry in my mother's eyes...is the lasting impression that there is at least one person who cares for me more than she has ever been capable of."

His smile was sad, but he tried to keep things light as he looked at you. "That is not an invitation to try and bite me as well. I know full well you care for me...because you've helped the scars nobody can see, fade."

Trey

"Which ones?" He chuckles softly, pausing his kneading as he held out his arms for you to look over the various marks he had, before he pointed at one, taking matters into his own hand. "My youngest brother likes this one for some reason. He thinks the texture is different and kinda just rubs my arm when he's calming himself down."

He turned his arm so his elbow was pointing out a little bit so he could look at his forearm, pointing to a bigger scar. "This was a burn from bumping against the edge of the oven while trying to take out a tray of cookies in a rush."

He turned his arm yet again, showing off another one. "This one was from me trying to reheat baked potato leftovers. I put butter on it and threw it in the microwave, but I almost dropped the bowl when I took it out and had the bright idea to try and catch it. Splashed hot butter up my arm." He chuckled again, using his shoulder to bump up his glasses. "I have a few from Che'nya as well. Some from my siblings. Some from baking. But they make for good stories should I ever need something to share."

Cater (Heads up for the abusive parent HC's regarding using kids for media Clout) <- you can read by clicking the link

He looks startled, like he's just seen a ghost before trying to laugh it off.

"I uh...oooh sevens don't tell me you saw me eat dirt like two days ago while I was skateboarding! I swear normally I'm better than that, I just- I didn't scar, just a scrape and nothing more, swear! It's sweet you're concerned though."

You gave him a bit of a sad look, before sighing, looking away awkwardly, knowing there was no...delicate way to tell him what you wanted to.

"Look, you don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, but the last time I was babysitting Cheka I...saw what he was watching on his tablet and um...well I unsubscribed him from the channel but there were some videos on there that-"

"Stop."

Cater was hugging himself, balled up as tightly as he could get on the opposite side of the couch, his hair shrouding his face somewhat. He was taking shallow, rapid breaths, and while you wanted nothing more than to reach out and comfort him, you didn't think he would respond well to touch at the moment.

"How much did you see?" His voice was as demanding as he could get it from inside of his little shell.

You cleared your throat a bit. "I didn't go digging into any of the videos, won't watch any if you don't want me to...it was just some of the thumbnails that...worried me that you...might have more than emotional scars to work through..."

You moved slowly to kneel on the floor next to Cater, offering your hand should he want to take it. "I'm sorry, there were better ways for me t-"

"You're right." He sobbed softly, looking out at you, nothing but pain on his face as he tried to hold in another sob, taking your hand in his, and moving it to gently run over his outer forearm.

"I c-cover them up um...a-all the time, it's second nature now but.." he takes a few moments to try and catch his breath.

"These ones were all from the same damned prank video...mom..covered the floor in dish soap in the kitchen...I was like...four, I still loved cookies, so when she said there were some, I came running in...slid and crashed into the oven...."

He sniffled and rubbed at his eyes with his free arm. "I remember watching the doctor pluck glass out from me and my mom was outside the room....just...yelling at my dad..."

He waved his hand over his forearm, letting the faded scars come to light beneath his concealer, trusting you to keep this a secret. His eyes still held unshed tears as he looked away from his arms, and from you.

"And the worst part? That video went viral. People thought it was funny. So of course mom went and did more and more prank videos, even if some people made it popular for the wrong reasons, there was still attention and validation there for her efforts, so it didn't matter. If I was crying, it was cute for me to...fuss, because I was- am the youngest, and nothing I felt really mattered. It was- I just-....I like being who I am now...most of the time...because nobody...nobody sees beyond what I want them to see...er...most people now I guess..." He gave you a bit of a bashful smile, clearly upset and conflicted still, before his face fell again and he gently tugged his hand from yours.

"Just give me a few minutes and everything will be okay again. Promise."

Deuce (with the HC he's deaf/HoH)

He kinda just sighed deeply at your question, shooting you a bit of an unimpressed look.

"I mean you could take a guess where I got most of'm and probably hit the nail on the head." He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck a bit, his eyes drifting to the side awkwardly as he wracked his brain for a scar story that wouldn't dredge up memories he'd rather forget.

"I mean the scar story my mom tells her coworkers about..." He cringes a tiny bit at the idea of relaying the story the same way his mother does, but sighed anyways.

"I was young, like really young, maybe two or three. It was before I was used to my hearing aids, so I didn't have them in at the time. She had just turned a little to greet one of our neighbours who had come out to say hello, only to hear ungodly squawking, followed by giggles...I didn't know the bird I'd managed to grab was giving me a heads up it didn't like being grabbed, besides it's struggling...long story short, it bit me pretty good." He blushed a bit and pointed to a relatively small scar on his cheek. "I don't even know what kind of bird it was. I just know what happened because it was something my mom talked about a lot."

Ace (TW for alcoholic father/abuse/manipulation)

"Mmh?" he sounded rather uninterested. It was a fair question, given the amount of time the two of you hung out, it wasn't like you wouldn't notice the jagged scar on his neck to his collarbone.

He shrugged, trying to play off how uncomfortable the memory was. "Just somethin' that happened when I was a kid."

Your unspoken questions bothered him more than he thought they would, rocking to sit up properly and look at you a little pissy.

"Look, I'm over it, so I'll tell you but I don't want a damn reaction or pity, okay? I was nine, my brother had just gotten his admission letter into NRC, and my dad was drunk off his ass. Threatened my brother with the cost of my life if he quit his job and stopped being his beer fund- not that it was much of a threat, it was a glass bottle or some shit he'd shattered and held to my neck. That was the night my brother made arrangements for me to live with his friends families so he could still come here without making me walk on eggshells around my dad. He still won't tell me if he kept paying the bastard's beer money or not, but my dad's in rehab now, and I don't ever gotta go back to him by myself again. I can just visit my brother now he's got his own place, even if he's got a roommate. So now you know." He got up from the couch, shaking out his hands a bit.

"Now, I'm gonna make some breakfast and I'm using your materials. Ain't no way I'm trekking back to Heartslaybul just for breakfast."

Savanaclaw

Leona

"Don't remember" He stretched on his bed, yawning. "Same shit I told Ruggie. It doesn't affect me now, so what's the point in remembering it? Can't hold on to every dusty memory."

"Aren't scars a symbol of nobility to those from Sunset Savannah?"

You could practically feel the discomfort rolling off of Leona in waves as he turned his back to you more.

"....yeah, they can be..." he sighed, feeling the weight of your next question mounting. "Just chalk it up to some stupid royal tradition that should have been abolished years ago. You don't have to believe it, but I'm done talking now."

Ruggie (Hyena Hierarchy shit ig?)

"Eh?" His ears flick playfully as he snickers. "They ain't a big deal. Growin' up some of the girls would play a little rough, 'nd now I mainly take care of the rugrats they like to chew and bite on anything they can get their little teeth into, not limited to ears and tail."

His ear flicks again and he holds his hands out. "And I mean, my hands ain't scarred but I don't have fingerprints cuz my grandma taught me how to do the hot food flip, you know what I mean." He snickers. "But y'know, just cuz they don't hurt anymore, doesn't mean I won't take a little extra cuddles or pets if you're gonna offer."

Jack

He scratched the back of his head a bit. "You noticed it??" He seemed a little awkward, and now that the fact had fully settled that the only scar he had was the small one on his upper lip, you could kind of understand why.

You nod a bit and he sighs, his hand dropping from behind his head and looking off to the side, a little bit embarrassed.

"It was a frog." He cringed a bit at his wording and at the eyes he felt from you, and he knew you were trying to hold back laughter.

"I- my bigger cousin was showing me a frog he caught and it jumped on my face. I didn't have full awareness of ah...my capabilities and...where my claws were in relation to my face... ended up hurting myself in the process of getting it off of me. I don't remember much else after that....just that I don't...love frogs..." He admitted a little shyly, tail tucked slightly, and clearly embarrassed.

Octavinelle

Azul

He looks at you rather unimpressed, then gestures to the tweels.

"They think I'm a chew toy. They would be the reason for any and ALL of my scars, as I've never been in any other danger where scarring would be an issue."

Jade

The question seems to hit him harder than you expected. Jade was normally hard to read, but his discomfort was apparent with your question. He gave you a practiced, but strained smile.

"The story behind my scars are not something I share willingly with anyone. I will be taking my leave." (but you can read the story here >:D)

Floyd (partial nudity?? but it's just Floyd showing off the scars he has all along his legs enthusiastically)

"Aha! I got a whole buncha scars shrimpy, which ones are ya curious 'bout?" He flopped down next to to you, and took his shirt off, showing off scars on his back.

"Oh didya see the ones on my legs durin' basketball practice?" He tried to pull up his school uniform pant leg, to no avail. He huffed and just slid his pants off, leaving him in his boxers as he showed off the scars all along his legs.

He beamed "It's a helluva lot harder t'see em when I'm in my mer form, blend right in with my scales, but my human body?? I look sick!! And there ain't too many humans who can boast 'bout havin' scars from a shark attack or a tussle with a barracuda! I got a whole buncha stories I could tellya if ya think you can stomach'em-" He snickers.

Scarabia

Kalim

"Ahah....I..I've got a scar?? Where?" For some reason he seemed a little panicked, looking over his arms anxiously. "No, no I shouldn't have any scars I um- I- just-"

His behaviour made you a little worried, so you moved to take his hands in yours, trying to steady him, but he pulled away from you, looking at you rather frantically.

"Just tell me where! I....I can- I'm alright, promise, but I don't have any scars!"

I'm realizing I have an obsession, here's another story

Jamil

"I mean I have a few minor scars on my hands from when I first started learning to cook." You watched his practiced movements as he chopped vegetables at a quick pace, sliding them off the cutting board as necessary to make more room for himself.

"Though I suppose with how intently you watch me work it's not a stretch to assume you noticed them." He gives you a bit of a knowing smirk, before pausing for a moment, and flexing his wrist to show a small scar on the back of his hand.

"That one was from taking care of Najma. She was just learning how to walk and wandered out of my fathers sight. My mother was taking care of something inside the palace, so as soon as I noticed she wasn't toddling around us, my father and I began searching for her. She ended up somehow getting herself wedged between....seven, I can't even remember. I remember putting both hands in, and pulling one one out with a cockroach on it, and the other struggling to pull Najma out until my dad was able to assist." He shook his head and sighed. "I cut myself on the wood around her, needed a couple stitches after....but she was all good, save for a mouthful of sand she had stuffed into her mouth." he chuckled softly.

"But if I have any other scars...you'll have to wait longer for those stories."

Pomefiore

Vil (SA Survivor vaguely implied)

"I do not know what you are referring to potato. I don't have so much as single blemish on my skin."

You met his eyes in the mirror, a silent questioning match ensuing between the two of you. You broke eye contact first, leaving him satisfied as he took a deep breath.

"There is nothing inherently wrong with scars. But the ones I have don't deserve any more thought, the person who inflicted them are no longer a part of my life, and never will be again. It's been over seven years, I know that there isn't a cell on me that has not been replaced by a new one."

He met your eyes back in the mirror. "Never bring this topic up again, unless you require assistance with your own scars."

Rook

"Hm? I've taken great care to cover them all up, mon trickster. Since coming to Pomefiore and being under Vil's supervision, most of my scars have faded to a point they are barely identifiable." He smiled softly at you.

"Though if you've noticed one or two, I assure you the story is lackluster." Despite his casual appearance, Rook seemed to be on..even higher alert than usual, as in you could actually pick up on the tension coming off of him. Despite this, your curiousity got the better of you.

"How can they be lackluster? Aren't most of them from archery or animals?"

Rook met your eyes with a rather cold expression, and regardless of stature, made it feel like he was looking down on you.

"No."

His glare lasted a beat longer, before he beamed, "Ah, it's best I get going. I bid you good day."

Epel (got top surgery over the summer)

"WHATCHYA MEAN HOW'D I GET MA SCARS?!" He has a wide grin on his face, hiking his shirt up.

"I AIN'T GOT NO TITS NO MORE!" He sets his shirt back down, a shit-eating smile on his face. "It was about damn time y'know! Lookit how flat ma ches- look at the scars!! Ain't they cool lookin?? Make me look MANLY an' strong, earlier Sebek done asked who I fought nd I just told'm it was my femin-feminini-.....it ain't funny now, but his face sure was!"

Ignihyde

Idia (TW for SH scars)

The ends of his hair went almost clear, and he looked rather deflated. "....cats. Stray cats. Used to pick them up without trying to bribe them first..." he mumbled, pulling at his sleeve a little more to try and cover them up, before trying to flash you a smile, though he was clearly uncomfortable and upset, so it only lasted a moment before he turned completely away from you.

The silence was heavy between the two of you, knowing the truth was more than the consequences of an angry cat.

He hugged himself more, still away from you.

"I don't do it anymore...Ortho is here now..to ah...remind me to do better...even if he doesn't know about it, his presence is enough."

Ortho

"Scar??" He tilted his head and giggled a little bit. "I don't really get those. When I get scratches Idia helps me buff them out. Why, do you see one?"

He ran a diagnostics test, trying to answer his own question, but came up empty, now trying to look over himself manually for any sort of disfiguration, only to look at you more confused and a little amused.

"What are you talking about?"

Diasomnia

Malleus

He had to hide a slight pout at your question. "Fae do not scar, not easily..."

He could see the way your eyes shifted between his face and his ear, before he sighed. "However...when I was much younger, I was prone to fits of anger, often scaring and sometimes harming the guards that were too slow to react around me." A tiny smile started to form as he thought about it more.

"Besides the initial pain when his weapon brushed past me, the guards face of terror was enough to make me giggle, despite the blood that dripped from the tiny incision." His hand came up to gently hold his ear between two of his fingers, rubbing over the small scar along the edge of it.

"I told him if he agreed to play with me I wouldn't tell my grandmother what he'd done. In a way, he was one of my first friends..but the news inevitably made it's way through the chain of command, and he was soon replaced by another heartless, soulless guard...they were all like that you know....so afraid of me, as a Draconia, to even extend the hand of friendship to a child."

Lilia

"Kheeheehee I've not got a single one, not anymore! I've had more than enough time for all the memories of my glory days fade like the scars that would have told the stories. Besides, having any visible scars would put a damper on my absolutely adorable face!" He batted his eyelashes, resting his cheeks on the 'v' shape his hands made.

Silver

"How did I get my scars?" He repeated, then looked thoughtful for a moment. "I don't have many...ah." He pulled his pant leg up gently and revealed a somewhat...suspicious looking scar on his calf.

"When I was younger, Sebek's yelling wasn't always enough to wake me up. He got fed up and bit me. He was successful in waking me up, so I have a few other scars similar to that one from when we were kids, but when he was about ten he had to stop. It was too much and he had poor control over his bite force."

He touched the side of his face pensively. "Though I was outside a lot as a child too. I'm sure I've got more scars and marks than I've cared to count. But Fa- Lilia was always attentive during our sparing sessions, so I've never received a scar from a blade."

Sebek

He huffed, an annoyed sounding bellow leaving him as he crossed his arms and turned his face away from you.

"I have not had the opportunity to receive a scar but-"

"The opportunity?"

His face flushed a bit, and he looked a little grumpy, "SILENCE, do not interrupt me human. Of course you wouldn't understand! My grandfather has battle scars still, they're a symbol of his bravery and valiance in Briar Valley! If I should ever have the OPPORTUNITY to receive a scar by blade, I would like to have one that matches his."

Extra

Che'nya

"Eh?? Well why'dya wanna knyow?" He chuckles, sitting crisscross against nothing, upside down in front of you.

"I was just curious- you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

He just giggles more, wiping one hand over half his face, evidently using magic to get rid of concealer on that side of his face.

"It's nyat a big deal, all I've got are acne scars and the result of me just pickin' at myah skin." He grinned, pouting playfully and making a peace sign. "'m still absolutely adorrrrrrrrrrrrable though, makeup just is more tolerable than putting lotion on and reminds me not to pick at it." He purred through his own compliment, before using his hand to use magic and put the concealer back on.

Jack Hearts-Trappola (same TW as Ace, only it's implied here, not outright)

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Don't ask Ace that question, kay? It'll put'm in a funk for the rest of the day even if he denies it." He moved to pour himself a glass off coffee, aware you were still waiting for an answer. He took a sip before looking back to you, and answering best he could.

"The scars I have were mostly caused by glass. Once I got into the entertainment industry, I took up soldering and welding so I've got a few pretty bad burns myself from slag or poor PPE, but I had fun doin' it. So no harm no foul." He grinned, the same wide, shit-eating grin that matched his younger brother's expression so closely, it was uncanny.

Falena

His laugh filled the room, boisterous and light. "Ah, you noticed them?" He had all sorts of scars along his arms, in sets of two or three, headed in the same direction.

"Thank you. Here, scars are a testament to one's nobility, strength and perseverance. I received many from Leona when we used to spar, he was always quick on his feet and caught me off guard many times." He chuckled again. "I was never the best at fighting, but it was an important skill to develop should I ever need to defend my son...and if my wife isn't around to exact her fury." His wife gave him a light, playful shove, making him laugh in response as well.

Najma

"Okay if I tell you, you can't tell Jamil or my parents okay?? Don't go snitching me out." She pulled you up to her room, and to her window, sliding it open to a palm tree just outside.

She pointed down at a ridge on the tree, and then pulled up the cuff of her pants and pointed to a scar from the middle of her calf up to her knee. "That fucking tree bit me when I was just trying to go meet up with some of my girls. Do you know how quiet I had to be so my mom and dad didn't catch on??"

Neige (HC he uses mobility aids (forearm crutches + wheelchair when necessary) when not in public eye)

He laughed softly, settling back into his wheelchair and pulling his leg up across the other one, pointing to a small scar over the front of his ankle.

"I got it when I was really young. I was trying to run away from someone who was chasing me, I don't remember if it was tag or not, but probably! I ended up getting a deeper cut than I thought I did when I tripped over one of those concrete barriers they use for cars. It was already falling apart, so the I guess it was moreso the mix inside the concrete that got me?? I don't remember. I do remember getting ice cream after though." He giggled. "I think I was on my way to a photoshoot. I'll have to see if Vil remembers."

Rollo (vague religious themes, SH, never ask me to write for this man again)

He had a band around his wrist, as if he had a bracelet that had turned into one massive scar. It wasn't entirely unreasonable for you to ask, and now that you knew of his brother, there was no reason to really keep it to himself now.

He sighed, holding his wrist out to you rather disdainfully.

"It's a reminder. Every time I look at it, I can imagine the pain my dear brother was in as fire and magic consumed him. I burnt myself for weeks in the same place so as to remind myself repeatedly what my failure has caused. It serves as a reminder what hell will feel like should I never repent of my sins, or fail in correcting the path so many have fallen to. Magic is no god of mine. I will not let it dictate when life is lost or gained. Not in my life. Not in anyone's if things were to go my way...but I'll show them the right way eventually."

His eyes slid over to you.

"You agree, don't you? You'll walk down the righteous path with me and preach the truth to everyone until they join us too."

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

Free me from my mental prison dear god why do I do this to myself at the worst times of day/night.

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centipedelightning · 1 year

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Hey, I was wondering if you could do a skeleboys x reader whose gut reaction when the get spooked is to sort of pull their boy back to them not caus they don't trust him their just used to being a protector.

(I request undertale and underfell plus dealers choice :D)

Thanks love your stuff by the way

Waaaa how cute! Ugh I love dealers choice it just means I can write my pookies (today that means the swapfell bros). Yk I always feel bad bc I feel like I write too little. I am used to writing research papers where I just get to the point so creative writing is so painful.

| Ut/Uf/Sf Skelebros x protective reader || super vaguely romantic for a few || fluffy |

Cw/Tw: None

Sans

He’s blushing

I imagine this would be the kind of situation where you two were near some people that got in a physical altercation and you pulled him back. That kind of unconscious instinct both surprises and Greatly flatters him.

He’ll go all wide-socketed and just look at you like you’ve grown extra eyes.

Once the y’all are away from whatever situation spooked you, he’ll start making little jokes non-stop. It’s terrible.

“what was that?” “Wdym what was that?” “were you trying to protect me??” “Tf are you talking about??” “you need a new nickname. i didn’t realize you’re such a guard dog.” “Sans what are you talking about”

Sans tries to keep the energy equal in a relationship. Not one-to-one type of stuff where if you do one chore one day he’ll do it the next, as much as if you put in a lot of work he’ll try to treat you or do something that shows that he knows you did it and appreciates it. So now that he knows you’ll jump to his defense at the drop of a hat, he makes it his mission to Not let you do that. He is flattered of course but he just doesn’t want you to get hurt.

In smaller situations where you just got spooked by something he’ll try to calm you down with jokes and puns.

Papyrus

BLUSHING AND STUTTERING AND AND AND

He’s so flattered he’s just a mess.

Papyrus is the type of person that will jump to anyone’s defense immediately, so you reciprocating the energy means everything to him.

He doesn’t spook very easy, so you’ll probably be the jumpier person. No matter what gets you, big or small, you just randomly pulling him behind you has him blushing hard enough to glow.

Emotional bioluminescence never works in a skeleton’s favor.

I fear that you don’t realize what you brought onto yourself though.

If you weren’t already, Papyrus is staying up planning you an incredibly detailed workout plan to make sure you are capable in combat.

“YOU SHOULD BE PREPARED TO FIGHT IF YOU ARE SO DESPERATE TO DEFEND MY HONOR NYEH-HEH-HEH”

The finalized workout regimen is planned exactly to your physical limitations. Almost to a concerning degree… did he do a secret medical exam or something??

No for the record, but he wouldn’t say no matter what the answer.

Red

Red is pretty jumpy himself so his hackles are already raised as he is trying to drag you behind him, but You dragged him back first??? You want to protect Him???

Swoon

He’s swooning

He still wins this nonexistent battle for the right to protect the other, so he manages to get you close to him. Sorry not sorry but Red’s protective instincts are hard to match, let alone beat.

If the situation was severe enough that you two would need to leave, once y’all do he’s all over you. Laughing and joking about how you’re trying to play guard dog.

He does try to check in a make sure you know you can depend on him yada yada. Please reassure him that you know and whatnot.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust you or feels insecure of course—hell one of his many types is strong and forthcoming—he is just also used to being the protector and wants to make sure you don’t burden yourself.

Edge

Utterly flabbergasted.

That’s all.

Confused even

Situationally you have two options: either you startled at something he also recognizes as a “threat” or you jump at something that just happened to scare you. Both of these options end with him looking at you like you are some combination of a deity and an oddly shaped cat. Confusion, wonder, adoration, a touch of horror—you get the picture.

More specifically, for the smaller option he will just straight up ask you wtf, but for the “big threat” option he gloats. Loudly.

He is about to get very loud.

Imagine something along the lines of “NYAHAHA YES FEAR ME AND MY HUMAN HAHAHA”

Edge is a skeleton that loves his theatrics what can I say.

You will also be put through a training regimen btw. It’s about the same as Papyrus’ just with more sparring. You did this to yourself.

Indigo

I’m so sorry but Indi picks fights.

He does

He’s shameless

Maybe you can try to physically pull him away from needling randos? Then again you jumping to his defense might just make him more confident and Worse.

You won’t get a workout regimen out of this guy though! Little victories.

for literally any other time where something just makes you jump and you grab him instinctually, he’ll play into it. You should tell him as soon as you can if that’s something you don’t want.

But he will dramatically jump into a fighting stance the second you start to tug him towards you.

He is always ready to defend his human’s honor.

Cash

He let’s you drag him back with very little resistance.

In all honesty he finds you jumping to his safety quite amusing, especially if it was from something small that just happened to make you jump and grab him with you.

If there’s ever a situation where you aren’t in immediate danger but near some (like some strangers getting into an altercation) Cash will absolutely allow you to do whatever you want.

He’s never gonna let either of y’all get into real danger, so as long as that doesn’t happen you are free to your instincts to try and protect him.

Hell, you might not even need to grab him with how much he loves to touch or hang off you. No sense of personal space truly.

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carniferous · 29 days

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dil do you have any spare thoughts on jegulus 🤲🏼

jegulus is like a years-long social experiment i keep expecting someone from harvard university to pop out of nowhere and be like Jegulus was a an engineered mass-hallucination for the purpose of seeing if a harry potter yaoi ship between two characters that have never interacted on account of being dead for years at the start of canon could make it to the top 20 most popular ships on ao3

lmao no but in all honesty jegulus is my favorite… if you couldn’t already tell from. the 100k+ words of fanfiction i’ve written about them. they’re the doomed love affair of All time to me. and like… the doomed aspect is very important and compelling to me. not to plug my own fucking fic but this will always be a core part of my jegulus thesis:

He worries that he’ll always wish to be back there, waiting for Regulus’s call. Decades will pass, a lifetime, and the wish won’t fade. He could love a thousand people and nothing will ever compare to the frightening, purposeful way he loved the first time. No one will ever know him so bare and uninhibited as he was at sixteen. The thought scares him so much that he almost throws up again.

it’s the first love and the first end of love that changes you so fundamentally. you can never love like that again bc you’re no longer capable of it. you are a fundamentally different person now bc of that love. it’s this

jegulus is also the love story that wasn’t meant to happen yk? i joke about this all the time but also it’s so serious to me. in a canon setting their love story is always woven through the gaps in the Narrative. they love each other despite the story they’re supposed be living out… and they have no choice but to live that story out! regulus has to take the dark mark. he has to die. james has to marry lily and have harry. he has to die. all in all their love changed nothing about their story but it also changed both of Them so fundamentally. just not in ways that are apparent to anyone but themselves

we also cannot ignore sirius….. sirius!!! sirius might be more important to jegulus than james and regulus themselves. he is the inadvertent crux the accidental catalyst. he would never ever dream of james and regulus falling in love he would actively stop it if he could but he CANNOT bc he’s the reason it happened. regulus and james are only aware of each other’s existence because of sirius. they’re bound to each other by the fact that they cannot separate themselves from sirius.

but i don’t think that james wants to save regulus because he saved sirius. i think james is aware of the fact that he Didn’t save sirius. sirius saved himself. and therefore james understands the differences between regulus and sirius and wants to save regulus himself. he wants to be the white knight rescuing the princess from the tower. he wants to give regulus a better life. and regulus wants that more than anything…. but he doesn’t believe in it. he can’t let himself hope that james is telling the truth bc if he is then it means that Sirius was telling the truth and regulus can’t bear that. it’s this endless misunderstanding……

i think a lot of jegulus fans make the point about how “love isn’t enough to save someone” and while i do think this is a correct statement… the only thing that can save regulus is love. there’s nothing else for him there’s nothing he’s been denied in life except love and connection and if he let himself believe he could have those things…. he could walk out!! james COULD save him!!! love CAN be enough

send me ships/characters !!

#this is way less coherent than my bartylus one sorry #my jegulus thoughts are just like. my entire blog. so i struggle to find new things to say about them #they’re just soulmates to me. sometimes doomed soulmates. sometimes they undoom themselves though #ask #jegulus #thank u mil i love yapping

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glamaphonic · 1 year

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i don't post a ton about izzy hands bcs, being real, i just don't care that much about him, and frankly, i find the obsessive fixation on him both predictable and annoying.

but it's my blog and i have thoughts that, because of the person that i am, are going to be expressed in the form of a character breakdown. i promise it is as discourse-free as i could possibly make it, but obviously if you don't want to read my examination of izzy hands' motivations as a character then...don't.

i feel like there's a very widespread misapprehension of said character and motivations, and indeed it's a misapprehension that i predicted way last year, and one that helps contribute to a wealth of repetitive arguments and discourse about the character that i am assiduously attempting to avoid in this post. (i am not, btw, proposing any sort of "solution" here; people can argue about whatever they want.)

in short, there's a tendency in meta and fic to take a singular aspect of subtext (izzy is into blackbeard) and center it as the character's primary (and often sole) motivation. and then, to work from there to recontextualize and reimagine and reinvent everything around that assumption.

but the show and the character straight up stop making sense when you do that. because izzy's primary motivation is categorically not desire for blackbeard.

his primary motivation, textually, is that he wants to be captain.

if i was at work and breaking down his GMC as an antagonist in s1 it would be:

g(oal): get rid of stede so that ed can retire

m(otivation): become captain

c(onflict): he is continually prevented from getting rid of stede, primarily by ed

and as happens in well-constructed narratives everything he does for most of the season revolves around this gmc.

to slide into the character section: izzy is, fundamentally, both hungry for power and bad at actually wielding power. izzy cares, more than anything, about his job and being at the top of the field in that job.

in 1x04, he tells ed to his face that he thinks ed's a washed up has-been who izzy has only continued to work for because of the clout that comes with working for the legendary blackbeard. this is because, as we've seen him mention to fang and ivan, he reads ed's increasing disinterest in and boredom with his job, and potentially the attendant depression, as ed having gone "half-insane" and no longer living up to that ideal. izzy later takes this back when ed has once again proven himself capable of pulling off a typical blackbeard miracle, of being the master of the work that izzy venerates. and then ed dangles izzy's heart's desire before him. if ed can retire, then izzy no longer has to suffice with being second-in-command to the biggest, baddest pirate. he can have the mantle passed to him. he can be the master of the work.

but of course, necessary to this plan, as ed presents it, is that stede must die.

and that's what izzy spends the rest of the season trying to accomplish.

to suppose that izzy is primarily acting against stede out of jealousy over thwarted romantic hopes, as the point of a love triangle trying to get rid of his rival, as someone who is desperately trying to have ed's attention redirected at him, is to suppose that he is actively seeking an end-state directly in opposition to his own goals.

because if stede dies, things don't return to the status quo, izzy doesn't get ed "back" to continue alongside him in perpetuity, and he certainly doesn't get the affection and adoration that ed has never before demonstrated towards anyone (nor do i think he even wants it, but that's a whole other analysis). the terms as they were laid out and as izzy continuously pushes ed to fulfill are that stede dies, ed goes away forever, and izzy gets a boat and a captaincy. that is what izzy explicitly wants.

and yes, as ed falls in love with stede, izzy is disgusted by what he sees as ed being corrupted by someone beneath him, turned into some "thing" that deserves to be put down. and yes, he wants to avoid the legendary blackbeard being brought low, be it by stede bonnet's influence or an english ambush. and, yes, repressed gay jealousy is definitely an aspect of izzy's overall dislike of stede, in particular.

but these things are secondary and tertiary, respectively, to izzy's immediate motivations and goals.

he stays in 1x04 because ed offers him a captaincy. he pushes ed to kill stede in 1x06 because it's the plan that will lead to him being captain. he narks to the english because they will give him a boat and a captaincy for it (plus he swore to make ed regret not following through with the original plan that would give him a boat and a captaincy). and he's happy as a clam in 1x09, even though stede isn't actually dead and ed has undermined the legend of blackbeard by signing the act of grace, because his primary goal has been fulfilled. izzy is now captain of his own boat.

and in 1x10 the sole alteration in izzy's motivation all season occurs. he realized his power-hungry dreams, but his regrettable incapacity at wielding power comes back to bite him. after he's mutinied in short order, and his life is saved solely by ed's presence and authority, he's left with limited choices (within the scope of his characterization).

he can leave and go it alone; attempt to climb the ranks again elsewhere, and eventually perhaps meet that same end he just narrowly avoided.

or he can try to go back to how things were before, try to once again achieve the highest strata he ever had: right-hand man to the legendary blackbeard. secure in the knowledge that not only is this a top position in the field, but that, barring all else, blackbeard's power and authority are sufficient to keep him safe from the machinations of the crew.

but of course, in izzy's mind, for all that to happen blackbeard has to actually be blackbeard. and well we need not rehash his opinions on that.

so yeah, gay jealousy over ed? definitely a thing izzy feels, imo, if deeply repressed.

but is it his actual motivation for almost anything he does throughout the season? demonstrably not, or else he would've made some very different decisions.

anyway this is all basically just a rehash of this conversation, but i was noodling on it so.

#ofmd #ofmd meta #izzy hands #long post

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mob-choir · 2 years

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i’m having so many emotions about teru

that was such a fast-paced, high-stakes situation, and he was thrown so many curveballs he barely had any time to cope with, and he still managed to adjust at impressive speed and never lost his faith in mob.

specifically: that moment right before ???% grabs him by the throat, when he’s kneeling on the ground trying to catch his breath. in that split moment, that’s when the realisation dawns, that this version of mob has no qualms in hurting him even with his bare hands. mob being non-violent to the point of letting himself get choked to unconsciousness was literally how they met, it’s one of the foundations at his core, and teru was well aware of it. having that knowledge suddenly be proven wrong, and all that means for his own safety, must have been a lot to take in. i can’t quite tell if it’s fear that we see on his face for a second, but if it is, that really adds to the element of horror - that sudden realisation that you’re in so much more danger than you thought and your initial plan is not going to be enough.

and then of course: when ???% lets loose his power despite so many people still being around and unable to evacuate. the horror on teru’s face, man. i don’t think it’d really clicked for him what mob being in this state actually meant until then. sure, him attacking teru was unlike him, but teru’s still an esper. he’s in great danger but he can somewhat defend himself. but civilians are different, and you can really tell teru did NOT think mob would put them in danger like that. he’s completely shell-shocked. i think that was another huge moment where he had to very quickly reassess the situation and what to do about it, all while coping with the emotional side of it all, since this is one of his closest friends and someone he really admires. he has to very quickly reckon with the fact that despite the pedestal he put him on, mob is just as human as he is and is capable of making mistakes just like everybody else, mistakes that don't detract from his worth.

which brings me to the point of it all. that DESPITE ALL THAT, teru was still able to 1) understand that mob desperately wants someone to stop him and would never want to harm anyone like this (bc he remembered that mob cried after realising what he’d done to his school....... where he’d only really harmed one person, who had done much worse to him..... if he cried after that, how will he feel when he finds out what he’s causing now?), 2) save all the people caught up in the devastation and get them all out of harm’s way, while being in a lot of pain (his EYES were BLEEDING), and 3) never once lose faith in mob. he saw him go on a (unintentional and unwilling, but teru doesn’t know that) rampage, doing things he would never in a million years think mob would ever do, and still took all of that in in record time considering the situation, and came out on the other side still whole-heartedly believing in shigeo and his goodness, and almost dying trying to stop him. because he knew that being the reason hundreds of innocent people got injured (or worse) would completely and utterly break mob.

and while, knowing teru, he might think he failed since he couldn’t achieve his goal (stopping mob’s rampage), what he succeeded in doing was ultimately just as important. he saved all the people he could, and gave his best for the one person he couldn’t.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #mp100 spoilers #hanazawa teruki #kageyama shigeo #this got really long but i have so many thoughts on this #there are some things i only brushed upon but that still drive me insane. but those will be for some other post maybe #the gist of this is that i think what teru was able to do here is an incredible feat that not many people could have done #both from a concrete point of view in terms of the people he saved and attempts he made at stopping mob #but also from a purely emotional perspective in terms of coping with all the life-altering curveballs being thrown at him #while being engaged in life-threatening battle #someone please get this kid to a hospital and then to a warm meal and a comfy bed or i'll do it myself #anyway thank you to bones for doing a great job with this final arc so far. excited for the next two eps #even having read the manga i'm NOT ready #post.txt

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nicki0kaye · 4 months

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random kallus hc inspired by someone else's post #3

I think getting him to socialize will be like pulling teeth. It obvs depends on how you interpret his few lines in season 4, but I don't think he was doing the bond villain voice as a joke when he greeted the Spectres. I think he's just like that.

And I think he knows it's off-putting, and is using that as a shield of sorts so he doesn't have to go too far into the unknown after entirely uprooting his life and leaving the Empire.

the explanation I always come back to is 'be what they expect', like that's his strategy within the Rebellion. This is important bc my main hc for Kallus is that everything about his presentation is fake. His accent and cadence was taken from the big bad in a show he liked as a tween. His only formal education is from the Academy, so he lacks a lot of standard knowledge others take for granted. He was an entirely different person before entering the Empire (though it was the Republic at his time of enlistment), and even though he's been in character for the last 20-ish years, there's nothing stopping him from constructing a new one. Nothing but himself and his goals.

Now there's also the comfort aspect. Creating a whole new life is terrifying, and I do think there's a measure of comfort he takes for having 'valid reasons' for not reinventing himself. He's also been shaped by the Empire (and his life before, as a gang lord's son) to expect the worst of people--to make formalities weapons, to always expect the knife in the back, to take any opportunity to tear someone else down so he can rise higher. That's created a paranoid, hyper-alert state re: other people, and the people of the Rebellion have every reason to distrust and ostracize him bc of his past as an ISB officer.

All of this is to say, 'be what they expect' is both a strategy to lessen the friction between him and the Rebellion, and also as a means of protecting his own sense of stability. Changing shit up now could draw unwanted attention, give Rebels cause to distrust his goals and intentions, call into question who he is what he's capable of, and ultimately would be taxing and anxiety inducing for him.

I think he's a proud guy who doesn't do shit in half measures, and that means taking 'failure' very seriously, including social failure. If he's a stuck up asshole ex-Imp, he's not gonna win anyone over, which means he won't feel bad or like he's fucked up if no one likes him much. He's setting himself up for failure as a means of controlling the situation, bc he is very out of his depths and hyper aware of what a mistake could cost.

that isn't to say I don't love hcs where he loosens the sphincter and genuinely tries to socialize and make nice, I fucking adore those, I just think getting him there would be a process. He's a recovering perfectionist, he's gonna need the help.

I also just...look, one of my criteria for imprinting on a character is how likely they are to sit there with a neutral expression while mentally furiously playing 4D chess against themselves and their perceived opponent re: literally any social interaction. I love the mfs who look like they have their shit together but in reality are one misstep away from a meltdown over 'failing' at being a human. It's the autistic people pleaser in me.

and I love the idea of that person being worth saving. That they can bond and find love and friendship and learn to be better at this shit. I like exploring that process, warts and all. I like forcing them to admit they need other people, they want other people, even if it scares them shitless.

There's a song from the musical Company called 'Being Alive' that reminds me a lot of what I feel is the core driving force for Kallus' change. It starts with the character more or less listing all the reasons love sucks, actually, but there's a turn midway where he starts begging for all these little inconveniences because; "Alone is alone, not alive"

And I think Kallus is deeply embarrassed that he feels that way. That for all the perfectly understandable reasons to hate the Empire, he ultimately changed because he was tired of being alone and wanted to be alive. So there's also this layer of penance and self-denial that is informed by his guilt for all he's done, but is ultimately him punishing himself for wanting something so selfish and being so 'weak'.

He hasn't earned friends yet. He doesn't deserve to be loved. He has so much evil to make up for, so much work to do, it'd just be a distraction, and worse a selfish distraction.

And there's reason to consider him an inherently selfish character, I think it should probably be applied to him more, it's a much more realistic take on him, but I personally prefer the obnoxious martyrism of it all. That he's able to flip his morals because they were, ultimately, a put-on anyway. That he is aware of right and wrong and his ability to empathize hasn't withered into nothing after years of violence and cruelty. And even if he can't feel empathy as strongly as he once could, he is at least hyper aware he now runs with a crowd that draws strength from empathy and needs to readjust himself accordingly.

So I guess even if he is still talking and acting like a bond villain, he is tailoring his words and actions to suit the Rebel's sensibilities. And I think he's hyper aware that's a choice--that other people (like Zeb) are just naturally care about the right things and treating others the right way. That he's already deceiving them in a way, which inherently makes him a two-faced liar, and it would just make things messy if he added to that deceit by acting personable and kind and understanding. It's so important the Rebels trust him, so important that they not question his intel and motivations, so it just makes sense that he not push too far and make it obvious he can be anyone. That he could mirror them perfectly, say exactly what they want to hear just how they want to hear it.

No one knows he's a fake person, so he has to keep the mask on. He has to stay in his little ex-imp box and put the real reasons he defected on the back-burner so that this under-funded, over-worked, run-on-shoe-laces-and-hope band of misfits don't die on his watch.

And i really like it when he's proven wrong, and forced to abandon the box and face the horrible ordeal of being known better than he knows himself.

#kallus #nik v sw

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skoulsons · 1 year

Text

Analyzing?? :) This is a long one again. And their second scene at the end of episode is really just gonna serve as a second parter to this bc there’s CONNECTIONS. I was going to make a cut and put this all below it, but tumblr was like deleting it so..no cut

“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Immediate reaction to her applying pressure to his wound is to grab her, hard. She reacts to it, hence her swears because he’s hurting her. But she would never tell him to stop because he’s in a lot of pain and can’t get it out any other way, so she lets him. But I think Joel recognizes he is hurting her. When it cuts to Joel’s face (possible continuity thing, but we’ll say no for the sake of overanalyzing bc this is my blog), he just has the side of his hand pressed, albeit hard, against her arm as opposed to gripping it. He recognized he was hurting her and tried to change to keep from continuing. He’s also trying to be quiet despite his very obvious need to scream about how much pain he’s in because he’s bleeding out with no medicine, no clean materials, and nothing to even try and disinfect his wound with.

“Come on, you gotta help me. Come on!”

baby, he is in a lot of pain. I don't know how much more pressure he can add. But I also think, in a way, she’s saying this to keep him awake and giving him something to do while she goes upstairs to look for something. She can’t have him passing back out, not with a life threatening injury, so she tries to give him something to do.

And something else (and I’m not the first person to recognize this), he’s trying to be quiet still. He could scream blood murder because he wants to because this hurts, but he’s trying to

“Leave. Leave.’

“Shut up, Joel.”

“Take the gun-”

“Joel, shut the fuck up!”

He is begging her to leave. Pleading with her as much as he can muster to get out. To leave him. To grab the rifle, because she can shoot, and go. He was just trying to leave her last episode because he was terrified for her and her safety because he knows he’ll kill her. And now, he’s begging her to leave him because he may kill her like this. It’s a harsh winter. She is giving him their warmth, food, and water. She is not taking care of herself the whole time because his life is on the line, and he is what matters. And knowing there is infected out there and people who she is all alone to defend herself against? She is capable to an extent, yes, but not to a group. Him being out like this could kill her, and he can’t risk that, not a single chance of it, so he tells her to leave him. Because he can’t fail her again, and dying while she’s still with him and not safe with Tommy is yet another fail.

And she tells him to shut up because what else is she supposed to do? She knows he’s trying to push her away because he just did it like a week prior to this. He can’t let people care about him, let alone letting them in in the first place. And this tiny, little girl was let in (with a little shove against that hard exterior of his) and she cares about him, more than he understands. That feeling being mutual and oh so complicated. No one since Tess has cared about him like this. But it goes deeper than that because this is a kid. His kid, now. She shouldn't ever need to do this or want to do this, but that’s the circumstances of their world, and he can’t help that. He can’t help the size of her heart or the fact that she cares so much about him because he did first. Through his protection, reassurances, and selfless caring in how he treated her, she grew to, too. And he never wanted that. Even now, the two of them being a ‘we’ now, she still shouldn’t have to because he’s the caretaker, and he’s failing.

“You go. You go. You go north. You go to Tommy. You go.”

This. This is a father’s anger. The absolute certainty and seriousness and the listen-to-me attitude. He needs her to leave. Because, like we’ve all discussed on a number of occasions, she is his weakness and he is her strength. And he does not believe he is that to her, especially not on the level he truly is. But beyond this, he needs her safe, as I already mentioned. So he grabs her and pulls her to him so she sees and hears him. He shakes her his second “you go” because he needs her to listen to him. He needs her gone, as much as it kills him to. But her safety is his first and highest concern, even if it means separating. He is willing to be separated from her and die alone in a cold basement if it means she gets to safety and is able to fulfill her journey.

This is after he shoves her and there’s already the glimmer of a tear in the corner of his eye. He does not want to send her away. He wants to be responsible for her. He wants to stay with her. He wants to hold her and he wants them to be okay. But he has to, for her safety. He reacts with force and he shoves her away, rejecting her care. Rejecting her help. And he just shoved her. Joel “ever so gentle with his little girl” Miller just shoved that little girl away from him, and that hurts.

Even after being shoved away from him, she doesn’t walk away in anger. No. No, she stands and lets her hand fall to his, just to brush against his. Despite being angry, upset, fearful, and pretty amazed at the fact that he’s still trying to get rid of her and won’t let her just take care of him, she lays a brief hand on his. Comfort? Reassurance? “You’re an asshole, but I still love you”?

And she moves to his coat, which I imagine she took off to better access his injury, and lays it across him. She evens it out across is abdomen and brings it all the way up to his chin to keep him as warm as possible. And Joel (pedro you mastermind I hate you) looks in…disbelief? Absolute unparalleled love at her that she loves him just the same? He just physically shoved her away. He has been nothing but physically gentle with her their whole journey, and now he just grabbed and shoved her away to reinforce his point. And in response, she quickly touches his hand and then lays his coat over him, covering him up to the chin. She is kind to him even after what he did, what he’s trying to do, and it’s almost insane to him. He’s used to violence. He’s used to using force and being given force back. And when he uses every ounce of power he has to use that force against Ellie to push her away, he is met with her kindness and unending care for him

They watch each other for a minute, no spoken words, and Ellie walks away. And he sheds a tear watching her go. His breath gets rapid and shaky, in part because he’s cold and losing blood and dying, but he’s watching her walk away and thinks she actually is going. That she is leaving. That they’re done, for good. That this little girl that is so important to him and that he loves way, way too much is leaving. And he watches her, thinking she’ll be the last thing he gets to see before he dies. He burns her into his memory, so that even after she’s gone and safe, a part of her is still with him. That he can picture her clearly in his mind to keep coming back to as he fades away.

And Ellie waits at the top of the stairs, but only for a moment. She waits. Does she think about what he said? Maybe for a split second, but no more. She needs him, but more than that she wants him. She wants to keep going with him. And, as much as he may hate it, that means suffering through it at his side and freezing through the nights just so he has a chance of surviving. She sits on what he told her, but she won’t listen because It’s him. Because It’s them. And that connection, that relationship, is worth it all

#I hope this is coherent I wrote it from 2-6am #I know this is like a heartfelt scene with a lot of subtext and blah blah blah #but the way his coat is sitting on him and his face is hysterical to me #he just looks all bundled up and it keeps making me laugh #anyway this was really freaking long I apologize I’m having #many many thoughts #the second part might be worse #who knows #the last of us hbo #tlou spoilers #joel miller #ellie williams

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cinnamonest · 1 year

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hi lena ^_^ i saw your post about twst and i wanted to ask your thoughts on floyd *_* specifically regarding his mood swings + sadism and how you think he'd be as a yandere.. i honestly pray for his darling bc even normal floyd is terrifying

MY BOY I've had an idea for him for a while now and I'm glad to share it so ty <33333

On a soft (? sorta?) note he is absolutely the "I don't understand what this feeling is and how to express it to you and am confused and mad about it and I want to be around you but don't want to be vulnerable so I am just going to be a Menace™" type of boy. I LOVE the thought of him dealing with feelings bc I feel like the moment he has to handle something that actually makes him nervous and Feel Things he just... bluescreens, like eel.exe has stopped responding, he has one way and one way only of doing literally anything and now suddenly he has a fragile situation and he actually tries his best to do things "correctly" because he wants you to like him but at the same time it makes him vulnerable and he Does Not Like That At All.

As to how there's a female at the all-male school... use y'all's imagination I forgot to come up with something 😅A similar situation to the prefect maybe

Notes/Warnings: fem reader, VERY dubious consent that's basically just noncon, Jade taking being an enabler to another level, in fact Jade + Azul are just as bad if not worse here, a bit of canon divergence bc I expanded/extrapolated/exaggerated the limitations and capabilities of Azul's spell for plot purposes, biting (blood involved bc have you seen this boy's teeth), sadistic tendencies, consumption of fluids on his end, mentions of avoiding impregnation, Floyd being an entity of chaos and a creepy selfish little bastard all around

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

He has two major issues.

One, he doesn't understand his own feelings very well, can't recognize them for what they are, and this becomes a source of frustration.

Two, even if he does come to understand, he can only express himself in the worst of ways. He's surprisingly somewhat... uncomfortable with it. After all, he's not someone who usually cares a lot about the opinions of others, so he's not used to wanting someone to like him.

And consequently, for someone normally so blunt and transparent, the concept of romantic love is something so out of his comfort zone, so foreign and uncertain and vulnerable, that it's one of a few times he's ever felt embarrassed over something, although he does hide it well.

That self-direction frustration and confusion comes a bit later on, but not at first. No, initially, he just does what comes naturally to him. He's not someone that really puts too much thought into what he does or why, just acts on urge and impulse. Nor does he think about the implications of those impulses and urges, what the desire to do this or that means. He just does what he feels like in the moment, and does so without hesitation or consideration. Usually, that entails being a pest to whoever is the most entertaining to get reactions out of.

And as for you, you're entertaining. Perhaps predictably, he quickly becomes a thorn in your side, from the first unfortunate interaction you have, an unpleasant occurrence in which he happened to sit beside you on the first day of a class and quickly learned you were amusing to annoy all throughout. He's always been that kid that entertains himself by making constructs out of materials available to him.

Unfortunately for you, the universe has decided to gift him with the most valuable possible material to such a person: a rubber band. About fifteen minutes into class, he's constructed some catapult-esque contraption out of pencils, a paperclip, and said rubber band, puts an eraser into it, and sends it flinging a short distance -- which just so happens to be directly onto you hand, causing your highlighter to skid across the paper. You narrow your eyes into a glare, and harshly set it back on his section of the desk.

As it turns out, expressing your annoyance was a mistake. The same thing repeats itself. The bastard has a dumb smile plastered on his face about it this time. Your eye twitches as you shove it back on him again. The process repeats again before the class is over.

He learns the things that irk you quickly. Especially if he runs off with things that belong to you, or tries to look over your shoulder and read whatever's on your phone or your notes. He quickly singles in on you as an ideal target.

But there's something different about your reactions, something that sets apart the feeling from other people.

Usually, he doesn't really mind when people get annoyed or mad. Depending on the situation, he might get irritated in return, but whether or not the reaction is enjoyable depends on the individual and situation. Annoying people is always fun, but whether or not it's fun to get the person really mad depends on that person. Pure anger is only funny from a handful of people, namely Rosehearts and a couple of the teachers. A lot of people get too serious when they're mad, so it's not as fun. It's much more amusing when there's panic with it, when he has the upper hand over someone in some way, or if the person is too tiny (at least compared to him) or weak or some other trait for him to take them seriously (that's what you fall into).

But you -- when you're annoyed, when you glare, when you spoke to him through clenched teeth that first day in class - hey, knock it off! - it was amusing, yeah, but there's also a different feeling too, something like... irritation. It feels bad, even though the amusing part feels good. And it makes him feel some pang of an unpleasant sensation, makes him upset. He likes making you mad, and yet there's something about doing so that he doesn't like, too, some unpleasant emotion that always accompanies the good, amusing feeling. It's quickly addictive. He starts acting on impulse more and more with each class period you have together.

So, he didn't really think about it. You wouldn't let him look over your shoulder at what you're writing, cast a glare again? Well, that's fine. He just grabs your notebook as you're packing up, and takes it with him.

Wha-- hey... HEY! That's mine!

You chase after him, but it doesn't do you any good, he's got long legs and can get away long before you stand a chance of catching up. You have no choice but to go on the rest of your day without it. You would have reported an incident of harassment or theft or whatever other term you could come up with to complain to the school administration about, but later that same day, he comes to your dorm's common area, calling out to ask if someone by the name of (your name) is present, holding it out to give it back. Based on what you know of the guy, you're a bit shocked he would come back himself.

Or so you think. You glare and rip it out of his hands, giving a few choice words before you realize how upright and poised he seems to be now, quiet, a neutral but pleasant expression rather than the lazy, bored one he has throughout class. He tilts his head.

I apologize. You seem to be unaware...

After explaining the difference between the two (much to your shocked expression, and ignoring your attempts to stutter out an apology), Jade reassures you he only came to return it after asking his brother how a notebook with a stranger's name on it ended up on the floor of their room (is this normal enough behavior that his first guess was that it was stolen...?). He reassures you that you can direct 'any future issues or altercations' to him, and implores you to forget the incident.

Well... he was so polite, and you feel really embarrassed and guilty for chewing him out when it turns out you had the wrong guy. You tell yourself you can let this singular incident slide. You make a mental note to avoid both individuals from that point forward.

Which, as it turns out, is not exactly easy. You get to your class early in hopes of snagging a seat in between two people, but that fails, and he ends up beside you again. Acts as if nothing happened. Just slouches over, asks in a lazy tone of voice to borrow a pen. It makes you sort of snap at him.

Oh, you want to steal that from me too?

...Eh? I didn't steal nothing from you... you got it back, yeah? It's right there on your desk. I just borrowed it a while.

You grind your teeth. At further pestering, you hand over your least-valued pen, making him swear to return it to you by the end of the class period. Not that the precious ink is being put to any good use, no. You take a glance over while the lecture drones on, but he's just scribbling onto a sheet of notebook paper. At least he does give it back.

It quickly becomes a cycle with each class. When a quiz day comes along, he rather blatantly leans his entire body to the side for several seconds, scanning your paper before copying your answers. It infuriates you, but you tell yourself it's not worth the trouble. You figure maybe he's the type that will leave you alone if you just keep ignoring him, probably will stop finding you fun to mess with if you don't give him attention.

Except that's difficult to do. If you don't give said attention, he pesters you until you do.

Hey.

You stay quiet. Just ignore him, just ignore him... so you tell yourself.

Hey.

You try. You try very hard.

Hey. Hey, hey.

You get taps on the shoulder that time. You turn your head, narrow your eyes, hiss out a whisper. What?!

It's never anything important, usually pointing out something amusing -- a crude drawing left in a textbook from a student of years past, that guy over there fell asleep on his desk and looks really funny, the prefect's cat got up and started wandering around. Never anything important.

And then, just when you thought that was bad enough, you go to a different class, one where you have your seating assigned to you, only to find out that it's been rearranged. And guess who you get put next to? It feels like some sort of joke from a higher power. Now you have to deal with him for over two hours a day. He doesn't seem to mind, though.

You aren't sure how you expressing blatant irritation at his every word could have possibly given the boy the impression that you were friends or anything, but for whatever reason, he starts to seek you out outside of classes. At lunch, in classes, in passing in the halls. When you think back, you're not certain exactly when or with what it started, it just seems to happen so quickly and subtly it becomes a part of your daily life without even noticing until you're too deep into the daily ritual to back out. It's almost never a pleasant interaction, it's always to inconvenience you in some way, or just to ask you stupid questions in that grating sort of whiny voice he gets whenever perturbed.

What're you reading?

Snatches it out of your hands. This is really boring, you really read this? Like, for fun? You have bad taste... hey, stop trying to grab it, he's still looking at it. As time goes on, and if he's in a particular sort of mood, you may be humiliatingly jumping up and down in an attempt to get it while he holds it up over your head. Until, eventually, he suddenly stops, seemingly losing all interest in the torment, handing it back to you and walking off, sometimes without a word. Other times you'll be trying to work on something, only for a shadow to appear over you and your work.

Mm? What is that?

You remind him it's the homework that's due in a couple of hours. He replies, with no sense of urgency, that oh, I forgot about that. Tries to talk to you about something else. You give curt, short answers, very clearly communicating a not-subtle 'go away,' but even if he catches the hint, he doesn't act upon it. Just sits there, keeps asking pestering, pointless questions, before abruptly standing up and leaving whenever he feels like it. He gives you some dumb nickname that makes your skin crawl, but after telling him not to call you that, he just does so more. It starts with questions that wouldn't be so bad if not for the perpetual poor timing and coming from him, but often turn outright rude.

What class do you have after this one?

Why'd you get sorted into that dorm? They're all so boring...

Home come you're so uptight all the time? Don't you ever do anything fun?

And no matter how blatant the irritation and annoyance in your voice is when you reply, it doesn't deter him from continuing. If you're not paying enough attention to him, he can just take whatever you're looking at out of your hands. If you try to get up and leave, he just follow behind you, only finally leaving when he loses interest, and no sooner.

For everyone else, though, it's sort of a blessing. He's focused all his attention on you, so the normal victims of his tendencies and antics are left alone and unbothered, with you receiving the same annoyance and pestering and presence usually spread out across multiple others. He's even absent from the lounge quite a bit when he shouldn't be.

But for you, it starts to make you paranoid. You find yourself looking around all the time, unable to really relax whenever you're in open areas public to the student body, like the cafeteria and library and the like. You start to just study and work in your room much more often. You try once more to get to class early so you can find a seat in between two others, so he can't sit next to you, which does work every now and then (much to the visible displeasure on his face). But every time you see him, he's right back to being annoying. You don't know why, and you know you've made it more than clear that you'd rather not have him around.

So, you simply begin to avoid him more intensely. The class seating arrangement is not really fixable, but now you pack up and bolt out the door as soon as it's over, and don't linger in the slightest, try to get away before he can even follow you out. You work exclusively in your room, or areas limited to your dorm's students. You avoid him whenever possible during school hours, too. Which isn't too hard, as he's so tall that you can generally pick him out of a crowd and see him from a good distance away. You make sure to keep as great of a distance as possible between the two of you, and if you notice him coming towards you, you try your best to get away. Sometimes, inevitably, you still fail. Your eyes meet, you see him perk up and make his way over to you, and you fail to get away fast enough before a hand grabs the collar of your uniform and pulls you back. Hey... where're you trying to go...?

And it's not as if he's unaware that you're avoiding him.

No, in truth, he's very aware he's annoying you. He's realized that from the beginning, hell, it was intentional, he was trying to do so, after all. But he's aware that it's not just annoying you in a temporary way that's fun for him (although that's often true as well), but also that he's actively making you dislike him. He keeps digging the hole deeper and deeper and making you hate him but he can't stop.

See, he knows no other way to interact with you. Messing with you and terrorizing you on a daily basis is just the default way he interacts with virtually everyone. It's what comes naturally. And normally, people being wary of him and a bit uneasy around him is fine by him, amusing even. The only people he really cares about are his brother and Azul, and both of them are essentially immune to his ways to an extent. Thus, he's never had to learn to interact with others in a positive, normal way. He wants to be around you, but the only way he can manage do that is one that makes you not want to be around him. The way he is just kind of... comes out, without making an intentional effort to be that way. This gradually begins to create a great deal of negative emotion in him.

Especially seeing as he doesn't really get it to begin with. He's perceptive of you to an extent, but he's not all that self-aware, he doesn't understand the feeling itself, just knows the urges are there -- the urge to be around you, talk to you, follow you around. Mess with you and watch you squirm. He doesn't like that following the urges is resulting in your disdain the way it is. Someone avoiding him has never made him frustrated like it does now. Normally, he really couldn't care less what others think of him, so he doesn't put others' perception or esteem of him into consideration when acting. His lack of concern for this is pretty obvious in his attitude, too.

But the thing is, he does care, when it comes to you, how he's perceived. And that's a new, foreign feeling. Everything you cause him to feel is very new and foreign. It's a lot of strange feelings he doesn't understand, and is very frustrated about not understanding.

Not that he doesn't still enjoy antagonizing you. No, he greatly enjoys getting reactions from you, startling you, stealing things from you, making you mad or upset, seeing you jump to try and get your things back.

It's difficult to explain (largely because it's nonsensical), but he basically wants to terrorize your life and ruin your day, over and over, but he wants you to be a willing participant in the cycle, rather than avoiding him or running away. For you to allow it... well, no, just allowing it and being unaffected would be boring. He wants you to be upset and mad, but to not avoid what makes you upset. To be bothered, but to... enjoy being upset. For you to like it and dislike it at the same time.

Of course, the problem lies in the fact that this is simply not the logical course of action any normal person would take. He does upset you and he does annoy you, so, like anyone would do, you avoid him.

The thing is, he sometimes comes to you with genuine intent, just wanting to ask a question or something similar. He's done so a few times in the past, just sees you and follows the impulse to approach you and start talking. On those occasions, he's not really all that unpleasant, just asks what you're doing and where you're headed, but to you, you automatically assume it's just a precursor to doing something to upset you. The way he looms over you and stares down at you certainly doesn't help diminish the intimidation, even if he's not trying to be intimidating. Granted, that too would likely turn into something less pleasant, but he's still trying to strike up a genuine conversation. Thus, when you still frantically try to get away on those occasions, it upsets him even more than when you do so normally. Even though he's just trying to talk to you, even though he didn't do anything wrong, you still stiffen up, look to the ground, give a quick answer and go running off and away. It feels irritating.

What gives?

He gets that sort of irritated, whining tone, that furrowed eyebrows and slight scowl to his face, even though he's just muttering to himself. You're way overreacting... he's trying to be nice this time and you're still running away when you see him? What do you have to go and do that for? Why do you act like he's gonna do something bad? What has he ever done to deserve you being so cold as to turn off and run before he can even get a word out? Ugh.

The scowl persists as he makes his way back home. He's petulant when he's in a bad mood. Doesn't want to help at the lounge... even him coming up to you just now was after he went off on his own when he was supposed to be there, leading to a serious staffing confusion and the lounge going unmanned for a solid half hour. Not that his mood swings haven't led to him abandoning responsibilities before, but he usually has at least some consideration as to not outright leave on the rare occasion he's been needed to run things alone while the others are busy.

When questioned on the matter, he just shrugs.

I didn't feel like it.

But it's said not in that usual dismissive, lazy tone of his, but rather, a very obviously bitter voice. And, quite childishly, he doesn't respond well to asked as to what's wrong. Of course, there's a certain embarrassment to liking someone that way. His subconscious knows that, but he doesn't consciously know why that burning feeling is there. Thinking about it all makes him feel some feeling that's good and bad and exciting and dreadful and pulls him in and scares him away all at the same time and it's so, so incredibly frustrating. Usually, if he's mad about something, he won't hesitate to complain and be very vocal about things that upset him, even when it would probably be best left unsaid. Now, though, at the probing of both Azul and his twin, he's very clearly upset, but gives uncharacteristically curt, cold replies when asked what's causing his poor mood.

Nothin'.

But those questions aren't being asked out of genuine curiosity, either, more just to see if it'll help him to talk about it.

They already know. Floyd is not the most perceptive of his own self, but that doesn't mean that Jade and Azul aren't already perfectly well aware of exactly what the issue is. They keep enough of an eye on him to have seen him around, always trailing you, always sulking after you run off, they've seen how his mood has gotten worse and worse with time, and both connect the dots more or less immediately.

They don't really know what to do, though. The situation leaves the both of them at a loss. They certainly do discuss the matter to each other, whenever Floyd is gone off to go hunting for you or sent to run errands or merely sulking off on his own, but have trouble coming up with what can really be done to resolve the problem. After all, it's... well, it's him. Him being the person that he is complicates literally any social situation he could ever possible be involved in. Initially, they tried to just redirect his attention back to something else, hoping he'd lose interest in you, but that didn't work.

Eventually, although it's more of a straightforward and potentially risky plan than either would have liked, they do come up with something akin to a solution. Nothing covert, nothing manipulative or underhanded, rather, incredibly direct and transparent, at least towards you.

You're looking down at your notes, so you have your head tilted down when you're approached, have your name called out to you. That's a bit startling, as you didn't hear anyone approach, and you're sitting by yourself after classes have ended for the day... but it's far more startling when you tilt your head up to the speaker, and nearly have a heart attack, stiffening and starting to stand up before you recognize that oh, it's the *other* one.

Jade is as eerily polite as always. Apologizes for startling you, standing in that stiff and unmoving way that makes your skin crawl. He says he simply has a proposition that would be potentially beneficial to you, in exchange for helping him with a problem. You warily ask for some elaboration.

He doesn't beat around the bush or waste any time building up to the offer. It's very simple. Your avoidance of his brother, who is fond of you, puts him in a poor mood, which negatively affects those around him. You, for a negotiable weekly sum, will abide by the following loose terms: stop avoiding him as you do, be pleasant towards him, entertain his ways, and generally gives him what he wants. Interventions and help for problems that may arise can be discussed. Name a price.

You're taken aback at first, left blinking, wide-eyed and silent. Even if it weren't such a bizarre thing to be asked, the suddenness with which you're hit with the information takes a moment to register.

What?

But after the offer is repeated to you (calmly, as if saying nothing out of the ordinary), and you fully process it, you scoff.

Are you serious?

But he doesn't miss a beat.

Entirely. You go to protest, but he speaks again before you can. He tends to lose interest in things very quickly, as I'm sure you're aware. It would most likely only be for a short time.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of you. You roll your eyes, lean back in your seat, and think of an outrageous price, hopefully to deter him, making sure to add a sardonic tone to be clear it's not serious. Twenty-thousand thaumarks a week.

But instead of sighing or making a displeased expression, he just nods.

Accepted. Please, sign this.

You sputter and stiffen. A paper is set on the desk, a pen set down to your side. Right, these people are obsessed with making all deals by written contracts, you've heard that mentioned before... still, the prospect is... You swallow, blink numbly, look back and forth between the paper and the eerie, unwavering smile above you. There's practically an essay written in tiny text on the paper, but you're not about to take the time to read all of that. Instead, you focus on the much-larger bullet points at the center of the paper, with your and Floyd's names handwritten into some of the brackets, to establish the primary points of the contract.

Do not flee when approached, and do not avoid the tertiary party [LEECH, F.] without reason outside of desire to do so.

Spend approximately, at minimum, three (3) hours per day outside of in-class time in each other's presence.

Behave generally pleasantly towards the tertiary party [LEECH, F.], avoid unnecessary cruelty or malice.

Abide by the tertiary party's will, and do not impede the tertiary party from doing as he wishes.

And beneath it all, there's a final piece of large print, bolded too, right before the designated signature line.

This contract will remain known exclusively to the primary [LEECH, J.; ASHENGROTTO, A.] and secondary [______] parties. No individuals outside of these parties, including the tertiary party [LEECH, F.] may be made aware of the existence of this contract nor the contents thereof.

Your nose scrunches. Of course the bastard would make it sound a lot better verbally, when the specifics are stricter... given all of this, the proposition would be incredibly annoying. Not to mention--

...What if I mess up just once? How do you even know I'm doing it anyway?

The other twin doesn't seem to be bothered by the question.

I will not be able to watch your every move, so you are granted some leeway to make mild offenses, but if you continually violate the terms, or commit major violations...

His smile seems to widen, his eyes close.

I *will* know. I assure you.

His expression creeps you out. You shift in your seat. Your natural reaction, of course, is to immediately reject the idea. Besides, it's a golden scroll, made by the dorm's housewarden... that means it's magically bound, or something like that, and he can take some ability of yours away or something. But you, well, the housewarden has nothing against you, you've never actually interacted with the guy. Besides, your magical abilities are... not enviable, you'd admit. So whatever is taken can't be too useful to you. This is probably just the default way they do all contracts, you assume.

Nonetheless, you still don't like how shady the thought of magic being involved in the contract is.

...But that's a lot of money.

That's a LOT of money.

And he said it would be temporary, right? Even at the bottom of the contract, amidst a mountain of words, you spot in slightly larger print: ...until it can be mutually agreed upon by the primary and secondary party that the tertiary party has lost interest, at which point, the contract may be terminated without further effect or consequence.

With that in mind, it's basically just putting up with him for a month or two for a lot of money, right?

You clench your jaw, but your hand seems to move on its own. You just can't pass that up. He snatches it back the moment you set the pen down.

Thank you for your cooperation. You will receive a transfer to your account by the end of the day.

You shift uncomfortably in your chair and start to ask about the specifics, you didn't read all that tiny print after all... but he's already out the door. You get the sense he left as fast as he could on purpose. You're not sure if there's anything else specific you're supposed to do, but if so, it's kinda his fault for not elaborating, you assume.

But as the day goes on, you get a dreadful feeling in your stomach. Maybe that wasn't a wise idea. You start to think of all the ways you can get out of this, consider walking over to Octavinelle just to try and cancel the deal... but... that is a lot of money. Even someone like him is tolerable with that much money on the line, right? You've already gotten used to his presence, so, you figure it won't be too bad. You just have to tolerate what you've already gotten used to, and you'll get paid for it. It's not like it can really get any worse.

Except it can.

It turns out, as awful as Floyd is when you're running away from him, it is indeed infinitely worse when you don't run.

At first, you figure he just has to be there, right? Jade never said you have to really pay him any mind. So you go about your tasks... for whatever amount of time you can.

He gets annoyed pretty quickly. Rips the thing you're doing out of your hands. What's this for? This looks boring...

If you're looking at something on your phone, likewise, he leans over, reads the screen of whatever app you're on. If it's social media - Who's that? That your family? - or if it's a game - what's that? What's that thing for? What are you supposed to do? - and if it's a website or text-based social app - what's that about? Which one is you? What're you talking about? - just zero respect for your privacy, trying to butt in on whatever you're doing. Most importantly, he very quickly decides it's boring and you should do something else, and will take the phone out of your hands if need be. It's like a child, his solution to getting your attention or getting you to do anything is always the same, directly grabbing whatever is in your hands and pulling it away so you're forced to either pay attention to him, or follow him in an attempt to get it back. It quickly becomes a habit of his that drives you up the wall.

Your agreement also means you now no longer try to run to class early to get a seat between two already-taken seats before he can get there, no. Now, he's following you all the time anyway, so you don't get the chance. And he doesn't exactly pay attention in class, as you've already learned. As time goes on, he gets more conversational rather than just the occasional interjection, acting as if class time is just a designated period for you two to whisper back and forth, seeming to not care whether or not you're trying to actually pay attention. Occasionally he'll use a paper (provided by you) and pen (also provided by you) to draw a tic-tac-toe board, which you usually actually do engage with, as it's a way to keep him quietly, non-disruptively entertained for a few minutes.

As agreed, once classes are over, you let him follow you for about three hours, usually to the library or the school store. Once that time is up, though, you say you have to study, and bid him farewell to go to your room. That's a valid reason, you assume, and it's not like Jade can watch you from the safety of your room, so it's not a violation even if you're actually just going back to nap.

There's never any "official" moment at which things become "a relationship." He never says anything of the sort, and neither do you — you agreed to tolerate it, but you're certainly not going to instigate that. Hell, you want to avoid him thinking it's something like that, even if you've slowly pieced together that that may be what he wants.

Or so you guess. That's the conclusion you come to, but he's not a person who makes sense to begin with. If that was what he wanted, it makes no sense for him to have acted the way he has either. You just try to not think about it, and deal with things as they happen.

He just gets more... comfortable. You were hoping that he would maybe get less intense with time, that he'd get bored as he so often does with other things, but it only seems to get worse. He sits closer to you whenever you're next to each other. When he trails behind you, the distance between you two has grown smaller and smaller, so much so that sometimes his shoes scuff against yours, your arms brush up against each other.

He finds you more frequently. It reaches a point where it's suffocating. It used to be that he would come find you to annoy you maybe once a day or so, but now, it's every opportunity. Somehow he manages to learn where you have classes and clubs, where you hang out after the day is over, and hunts you down at each one with eerie precision and accuracy, within minutes of leaving a room or sitting down. Sometimes he's waiting outside the door when you exit a class. Stays with you all day, for the remainder of the day, until you finally go back to your dorm.

He himself doesn't treat it as if it's strange or funny or anything. You almost get the sense he doesn't realize how abnormal it comes across as. Always just striking up conversation on whatever strikes him as important enough to address at the moment. Or, increasingly commonly as time goes on, and an indicator that he's going to be particularly annoying on that day: I'm bored.

You always sigh. But you have to be somewhat polite... well, what do you expect *me* to do about that...?

He'll shrug. Maybe say 'dunno.'

But that's when he starts to get nosey, mess with your things. Always flops down on the other side of where you're sitting, or beside you. Continues the habit of ripping things out of your hands (your biggest pet peeve with him, the most infuriating thing he does, and yet does it so often), feels the need to comment on them, moves on to mess with something else. All until it always ends the same way -- with your undivided attention being on him and exclusively him.

Hey, play a game with me.

Watch this video with me.

We're gonna go to the store, I wanna get something.

Always, always, doing whatever he wants. You have to learn to bite your tongue. It's worse than it ever was when he was just a pest in class. When you made the agreement with Jade, you were envisioning only dealing with what you were already accustomed to. You didn't think it would get more intense.

And another thing, you also didn't predict the repercussions of that when it comes to other people.

You wanted to hang out with your own friends, but since he tags along with you everywhere you go, you tried to maybe you could lug him along like a pet or something and hope he stayed quiet... but people know who he is, and most are a bit uneasy around him. He doesn't actually do anything bad -- he doesn't have to. He just sort of looks over at your group, making eye contact, and almost immediately one person suddenly conveniently has to leave. Then another, then another, and all of your friends have disbanded within a few minutes, and he didn't have to say a word. You sulk back to your dorm... you get the sense he's not at all unhappy, though. It just means more time by yourselves, after all.

People try and approach you, still, just to say hi, to ask a question. Plenty of times now, you've been sitting next to him in the library or on a bench in the outdoor area and someone will come up to you, waving and calling your name... only to stiffen. He just looks at them. Not a glare like a normal person would if upset, but that blank, wide-eyed, intense stare, eerie and ominous and more threatening than any glare, really. It drives people away within a minute of coming up to you, they usually stammer something about whatever they were going to approach you for, but get it out as quickly as they can before taking off in a different direction.

It's not the only issue with others, either. On the rare occasion you get to have a few minutes to talk with someone else, he always manages to show up, interrupts your conversations, coming up to you and talking right over the other person, pulling you away as if they weren't there.

One day, a rare occurrence takes place in which he actually was running late (some sort of issue at the lounge) and isn't with you when you arrive, nor is he already in the classroom by the time you get there. In his absence, some poor, poor new transfer student makes the mistake of sitting down beside you. You say nothing, not wanting to be rude... and besides, surely he'll let this one instance go, right? It's not that big of a deal.

You would be wrong. He comes walking up to his usual place, quiet and staring. There's a few moments of silence. You turn in your chair and are just about to say something when the poor kid is grabbed by the back of his shirt, hauled up into the air, carried a few steps over, and promptly dumped onto the ground. Floyd takes his usual place, the kid runs off, all without a word. He says nothing about it either, just starts talking. What's everyone looking through the book for? 's there a test today...?

You didn't say anything at the time, but that occurrence marks the moment you truly begin to realize you can't allow things to go on as they are.

So you tell yourself. You tell yourself you're going to do something. Over and over.

But the spending money is nice. You get a ton of things you wouldn't have otherwise. New stationery and notebooks for class, a new phone, some expensive memory cards, so on and so on. You blow through it pretty fast... even though you tried to tell yourself to save some of it. Honestly, you often end up making an unnecessary purchase as a reward to yourself after a particularly energy-draining day of dealing with Floyd. It's what keeps you going, really. Until this is over.

It's only one day, upon thinking that, that you realize something. It's been months since you started enduring all this, and yet, unlike the prediction you were given, he shows no signs of "losing interest."

That's worrying. You only agreed under the belief it would be short-lived. There is absolutely no way you can endure this for the rest of the semester, let alone the year, or, God forbid, the rest of your school career. You'd go insane. You have to do something.

You consider going over and giving Floyd's twin a piece of your mind and telling him to forget it, plenty of times. But soon that isn't even an option, because you wouldn't have the time.

Because now, he starts following you back to your dorm. Like so many other things, it's never addressed, it goes unspoken. One day he just apparently decides that he's not going to follow you to the edge of your dorm and bid you goodbye for the day like usual, no, he just... keeps walking. Follows you into your dorm space without a word about the matter. At least he seems to be enjoying himself, saying something about how it's cool, asking what's that and that over there, so on and so on. It's only after you reach your room that he finally seems to take a hint and mutters something about seeing you tomorrow. You give a brief mm-hmm before closing the door to your room behind you, and sinking down to your knees in exhaustion. Great, now he knows where your room is.

It's only after a few minutes of sitting there, though, that you realize you haven't heard his footsteps walk away yet.

Is he just... standing...? No, you just... didn't hear it. You were lost in thought. So you tell yourself.

Meanwhile, he wonders why you haven't gotten up yet. Are you sitting on the floor? He can sort of see your shadow through the tiny crack of light at the bottom of the door.

He was kinda hoping to go inside. That's disappointing... sigh.

You're probably at that point, right? He's... not sure. He would think so. Is there some kind of factor determining whether or not it's okay for him to go in? Was he supposed to just walk in anyway? You probably wouldn't have minded, right? Should've done that. He's not familiar with any time frame where you're supposed to start going into each other's places, but he's like, ninety-nine percent sure you're there.

See, to him, he just assumes something must have changed somehow. More importantly, he is under the impression you are "together" in the relational sense.

At some point along the way, unlike he was initially, he's figured things out. Never said it out loud. He's usually not someone that's embarrassed easily, but the thought of this in particular is... it makes him uncomfortable in a way that's foreign to him. It's confusing.

But he does understand, now. Why being around you makes him feel like there's a weight on his chest, such a nervous and unpleasant feeling, yet why he keeps coming back to it, why such an unpleasant feeling can be so pleasant and addictive all the same. Even he, who has no former experience with the emotion, who has never even given the topic much thought, can only think about it for so long before putting the pieces together. He doesn't fight it, no, he's not the type to be in denial. He just sort of... accepts it. It is what it is.

Still, he's not good with this sort of thing. Doesn't really know a lot. Has never experienced it before. And that makes him uncomfortable, nervous even, below the surface of a composed exterior. He's never cared about what someone else thinks of him, has never wanted someone to like him.

And in truth, he's been somewhat nervously analyzing you all along. Again, he just... doesn't know of another way to interact with someone, than the way he does already. But this is the one time he's really really cared, so if there is some other way to interact with you, that's supposed to win you over, he'd want to know. Is there something special he's supposed to do?

Ugh. It's all so annoying. It makes him mad. It's made worse by the fact that the source of the negative emotion is a situation, a concept, his own feelings, not a person. Usually when he's mad, he can squeeze whoever's making him mad... he wants nothing more than to take the source of the anger, wrap his hands around its neck... but he can't, because there is no person at fault (well, he thought about doing that to you, but that made him feel weird in a different way that he doesn't get yet). But the emotion keeps boiling over, it's unbearable, he hates it.

Well, come tomorrow morning, the residents of your dorm will find one of their pieces of thematic decor snapped in half, but... yeah, no one saw it happen, so he'll just set the other half on the ground and find his way out. He kicks at the ground as he walks, deep in thought.

All of a sudden, you stopped running away so much. You still have an irritated expression sometimes, but maybe that's just how you are? That's how you always seem, and he's around you all the time, so that must just be your resting face. Otherwise, why would you be wearing that face whenever he's around you?

Whatever the reason, you clearly don't mind. So, that basically officiates it, doesn't it? No need to actually say anything or ever address it. That would be... something he doesn't know how to do. Something he can't afford to just do, as it doesn't come naturally. Something he won't do, can't do.

But that's normal, right? It happens all the time, people are together without every officially establishing it.

Instead, he just tests you. That makes sense to him. The desperation to have some sort of confirmation gives him the temporary confidence to go through with such a thing without hesitation.

You would never know he's uneasy. He comes across as just as uncaring and casual in the action as everything else he does. It's a very simple test, too: comes up to you after a class, gives you the usual what're you doing?, you exchange a few words, he sits down beside you like always.

Except this time, as you are acutely and immediately aware, he sits so close that your thighs touch.

A moment passes. You clench your teeth and stiffen. But, you're pretty sure this would fall under the technicalities of the contract, so, you bear it, and you say nothing.

...

...You didn't move.

Yeah, so, if you didn't view things between you two the same way he does, you would have moved. That basically confirms it, for him. Good to know. It's not solidified in his mind. Very relieving.

From that point forward, he starts to become more touchy. He always sits that way, so your legs touch, he starts to lean so that your arms touch too. Eventually he starts to just lean over, rest on you. The fact that you don't pull away is reassuring.

Nor is his tendency to grab at things limited to objects you're holding; even with you, he's grabby. You're going off in one direction, but he wants to go this way? He'll just grab you by the arm and pull you the preferred direction. He wants to get up and go somewhere else? He'll abruptly stand up, grab the collar of your shirt and pull you up. He has no issue interrupting you, far overstepping the boundaries of rudeness to prioritize you paying attention to what he wants. Even if you're listening to music or something, but he deems whatever he has to tell or show you as more important (which he always does), he'll just pull the earbuds out of your ears to interrupt and override whatever you're doing.

If you get a text, he'll often poke his head over your shoulder as he did before, but often now he'll just grab your phone and look at it himself. Hey, who's this? That's a newer aspect of his interruptive tendencies that begins to develop - he's always gotten nosey about who people are, but you notice he's much more intent on it now, no longer accepts one word answers like "my cousin" or "a friend" alone, but instead pries more and more, wanting to know how you know them, how often you talk to them, if they're a student here, and so on. It helps his case that he doesn't ask in an angry or nervous tone, instead maintains his usual casual, lax tone of voice... but even so, there's still an increasingly clear intensity to it, insistence. Namely because, on the few times you've tried to get around a question or avoid answering, he doesn't let it slide, and will ask the same thing again. Again, no anger or intense emotion, but something about the fact that he asks a second time, no matter how relaxed his face and voice may seem, gives you a sense of unease. Like it bothers him more than it would initially seem.

Once, you must have forgotten to lock your screen, because you come back after getting up to get a drink (insisting no, the machine is right over there, that he needs to just sit right there and not get up to follow) to him sitting there, scrolling through... your phone. Not trying to hide it; even when you stand there in slack-jawed disbelief at the audacity, he turns his gaze over to you for a moment before asking why you haven't sat back down yet. Notes that hey, you know, you really should optimize your phone settings, your battery's gonna drain faster the way it is now... and keeps scrolling. Even when you get over the disbelief and, momentarily forgetting your contract terms, start grabbing for it (that's my phone! Floyd, you can't -- you can't just -- ugh! Give it!) he just leans over and turns all around to avoid you snatching it back, continuing his curious browsing with an otherwise blank face, only smiling after finding something somewhat embarrassing, turning it back to you to tease you about it, which goes on for a few minutes before finally relenting.

It's too much. You barely manage to control your frustration. It's reached a point where the money isn't worth it, he's too annoying, he's driving you crazy, freaking you out, driving your friends away. You can't even remember the last time you had a conversation with anyone other than him. You tell yourself to take the first opportunity you get to seek Jade out again.

Which does come, one day, in an unexpected situation. A partnered project in the lecture section of the alchemy class you two are in, to be completed as part of the lab section. The professor begins reading off pairs of who works with who, but you realize the partners being assigned are based on just who sits next to each other. Unsurprisingly, then, your names are called as a pair. He seems pleased by it, making a comment about how you should make something cool-looking (the subject matter is destructive chemicals, so you're almost worried he might put a bit too much effort in...).

Not that that's too bad. You already spend all that time with him anyway... besides, you'd almost be afraid for the safety of your partner if it was anyone else. He might do something to them. You'd hate someone to get hurt because of you. You don't think much more of the matter, until suddenly, after school is over for the day, he abruptly stops, just as you pass by some of the doors leading to important administrative offices and, more notably, the school pharmacy.

I'm gonna go get something... wait here just a minute.

It immediately strikes you as odd that he doesn't have you go in with him. But frankly, your curiosity on that is immediately overshadowed by the sudden realization that, for once, you have a spare moment to yourself, during the daytime. His absence gives you an opportunity. Sure, he said he'd only be gone "a minute," but the temptation to be able to end things is too strong. It's not like it matters if you ditch him, since you'll be able to get rid of him permanently soon, right? You can cancel the contract, finish this project, tell him off and then never talk to him again. Be done with it all for good. It's more than you can handle. You chastise yourself for ever agreeing in the first place.

You practice a speech on the way to Octavinelle, run over the words over and over, but by the time you get there and make your way to the housewarden's office (you know full well he's in on it too, his name was on the contract after all) and barge through the doors, your mind goes blank.

Predictably, the housewarden and your tormentor's brother are both there, thankfully by themselves. Their eyes widen a bit, seeing you come in, but at the same time, it's more of an intrigue, merely catching attention by the suddenness of someone coming through the door. But they don't look surprised to see you. As if both knew it was only a matter of time before you'd be walking through those doors one day.

You try to not overthink, and just speak. Be direct and blunt.

I can't take it anymore.

It all comes unraveling out of your mouth all at once. I can't do this. It's wearing me down. I'm going insane. I can barely breathe. You ramble for several minutes, telling them just how far it's all gone and how you're at the end of your patience.

They listen attentively. Almost too much so. Glance back at each other, then back to you.

You are prepared to go through with the cancellation policy, then?

You take a few moments to reply.

...Huh?

Mechanically, without any effort to look for it, the housewarden pulls the paper out in a matter of seconds. Sets it on the table, pushes it in your direction.

The cancellation policy. It was on the contract that you signed.

There's a rising dread in your stomach. You don't like the faux-pleasantness on his face, the way he intertwines his fingers and rests his head on top of the conjoined hands. You squint downward.

In very tiny print, towards the middle of the page, it reads that cancellation of the contract would require complete reimbursement of all your payments up to the point of cancellation, in addition to 20% interest on those funds.

At this point, that would be... you try to compute it in your head, but the multiplication quickly becomes too high of numbers for you to do without the aid of a calculator. And contractual issues where the agreed deals aren't met... you've heard nightmare tales about students getting into that situation. Worked to the bone.

Still, the first thing that comes out of your mouth is to ask Azul to do exactly that.

So you'll just make me work for you? I... I can do that. Just-- I'll do work for--

No need. I would merely use control over you to have you go back to doing the same as you've been anyway. He tilts his head. It's more of a matter of whether you'll do it of your own will, or by force. He points to a specific line. And even if you break it, you'll continue to accumulate debt per week. More so, even, see here?

A different line, that reads: post-cancellation, the interest on the remaining debt will increase by 50% per week.

That's 70% total interest... that's almost doubling the amount with each week, and even if you worked a full-time job, that would be...

There's a long silence. The look on your face tells them all that could need to be said.

That's insane. There's a strain in your voice. Desperation, panic. In your defense, it is insane. You'd never see something like that in the real world, it would be bordering on illegal. You also recall the first conversation you had with Jade, and turn back to him. You said it would be temporary.

He smiles as you again. I did believe so. It would seem you have managed to fulfill your role well enough that you have become an exception. Congratulations.

You eye twitches. In your panic, you start to raise your voice, lash out with desperation in your tone.

What happens when it ends, then? You want me to lie to him until I graduate?

Just as before, Jade is the one to reply, not missing a beat, replying in a flat tone, as if the matter is of no significance.

The contract states nothing about expiring upon graduation. Please do remember it is both magically and legally binding, thus--

The words come out of your mouth the moment he finishes speaking.

I can't do that.

You can't. You know you can't. You're already at your limit, you already feel like you're losing your mind.

It feels like your stomach has twisted into a knot. Those words come crashing down the hardest. You look up and down, up and down, back and forth between them and the paper. Of course, they knew you'd be likely to back out, and ensured you couldn't ahead of time. It's so, so obvious it was entirely planned to go over this way, and you feel so utterly stupid for falling for it, yet you can't help but also wonder--

Why...?

Your tone makes it clear what you're referring to. Jade tilts his head.

Surely you would understand wanting happiness for a close relative, yes?

Their smiles don't waver. It's infuriating, makes you want to reach out and claw at their faces, and frankly, you're almost at the point of losing control to refrain from exactly that.

You *did* choose to sign it. Don't tell me you didn't take the opportunity to read the thing in full? In truth, Azul's voice is possibly eve more infuriating, it's more blatantly smug and jeering. Your body is trembling with emotion as you look him in the eye before he continues. But have no worry... since you seem to be struggling, I can make it easier for you.

Your eyebrows furrow. Panic and dread makes you hostile, easily set off by his words. You narrow your eyes and you're just about to question his meaning, but the door opens behind you, and you all fall silent.

...Mm...? What are you doing here?

You twitch at the familiar voice. You slowly turn your head around.

There's a long quiet that settles over the room. You're pretty sure your facial expression must reveal your panic and dread, because Floyd sort of tilts his head. What's up with you...?

You're still at a loss, unable to form words. His brother, however, finds a quick excuse.

Ah, there you go, miss _____. Seems you won't be needing us to find him.

You stiffen, swallow, sputter your words, but you manage to get out something aligned with that. O-oh, yeah I was -- I had to get something from my room and uh, you weren't in the store by the time I got back and uh... I just...

You suppose that would make sense, if you were looking for him, this probably would be where you'd go.

Floyd seems to accept that without too much question, saying he was looking for you too. He seems a bit irritated, saying that he tried to call you but you didn't pick up, you claim your phone was on silent (it wasn't, but you quickly grab it and pretend to turn the volume up a bit before it can go off again and prove you were lying), and after he drops a stack of papers off on the desk, the two of you quickly make your way back out (rather, he grabs you by the wrist and starts dragging you out of the room). Azul mentions something about him coming in tomorrow for the weekend shift (met with a yeah, yeah, I know), but, as you turn your head back over your shoulder before the door closes behind you, glaring with venom in your gaze, you get two knowing, infuriatingly cocky smiles in return.

You barely register him talking as you're dragged along. I tried goin' back to the library too, you know, I walked around forever looking for you...

Ugh. Can't you let it go already? Or at least, that's what you think, what you want to say, but you clench your jaw and mutter out another half-hearted sorry.

If you chew him out, you'll be violating the agreement... and although you could express irritation just a bit as per the loose contractual terms, you're pretty sure if you even started, you wouldn't be able to stop the floodgates from opening and getting out everything you want to say to him... so it's easier to just try and swallow it and keep quiet. It does look like you'll be stuck with that contract... you try to not think about it. The shock of it all is still fresh in your mind. If you focus on it, you might just break down, and you can't have that right now.

You try and change the subject, even though you're still rather shaken up, but you really don't want to deal with him thinking something is wrong and getting upset over it.

You... you wanna work on that project now? We can go to the library.

He was the one who mentioned wanting to do it tonight, earlier that day. You figure you should reward that sentiment, as he's usually a very last-minute person in regards to classwork. You can stand to be generous and not try and redirect to another day (as suggesting and redirecting is your frequent substitution for outright refusal).

He shrugs.

Nah... don't wanna go that far. We're already here anyway, makes no sense to go all the way across campus. My room's right over that way.

You stiffen. You do not want to do that. You don't like the thought of being alone with him in his own space, especially as it's nearly evening by now. You're still filled with spite (and near disbelief) from your earlier conversation with the other two, and worn out to the point of exhaustion. Besides, you've really abided by the whole thing pretty well thus far, and since it's clear to you now that Jade would greatly prefer the contract stay non-violated, so... you remember how he did say, way back when you first signed the godforsaken thing, that you'd have some leeway, and you've gotten away with a few things thus far. Surely it's not going to break the whole contract if you just try to tell him no outright and entirely, just this once.

You open your mouth.

...

Nothing comes out.

And in that same moment, you reach the end of the hallway. To the left is the Octavinelle dorm rooms, to the right is the common outdoor area and, by extension, the exit.

Okay, it's that one over there. He points to a door down the hall and turns.

Your feet, against your own will, before he can even pull you along, go left.

The sudden bizarre act makes panic burst through your chest, your body feels as if electrified. Your eyes widen, but you can't stop moving forward. You stumble, but carry on all the same.

Your mind races and races and your feet keep moving, you're trying to mask the bewilderment on your face and then it hits you. Those golden contracts...

'I can make it easier for you.'

The words run through your mind, each one like a heavy beat in your chest. It makes sense. Even if it's not using his signature spell, there's no reason he wouldn't be able to bind within the contract other sealing forms of magic, too, removing a specific voluntary capability, and waiting to activate it whenever it was needed.

He took away your ability to be defiant.

It feels as if there's a weight of ice in your chest. Cold and heavy. Dread bubbles up in your gut as the door opens. Floyd grabs you by the wrist to pull you in.

The room is almost comical to look at -- one side pristine and neat, everything in perfect order... the other messy, stuff strewn about everywhere, bed unmade, clothes laying over the back of the desk chair, trash can full and surrounded by papers crumpled into balls, shelves lined with open bags of junk food. You have no trouble guessing which side is which. He off-handedly mentions that Jade is staying with someone else overnight. How convenient.

There's a heavy, awkward silence. You ask about the materials for the initial paperwork you'll have to create as a formulaic model for the project.

Yeah, I got it.

After pulling the covers up, he sits on the bed, lazily fetching the textbook out. You don't protest that (after all, he only has the one desk chair in the tiny dorm room, and the floor looks kinda disgusting), and you slowly sit down on the other side - facing him so you're apart, not sitting side by side, keeping your distance.

To fill the silence, you start to talk about the whole thing. There's a growing nervousness in your chest, a sense of dread. He doesn't seem very focused on the material -- well, he never does, but even less so than usual. You get the sense he has no intention to really work on it at all. He makes some progress, by filling out a couple of tasks you assign as you go, but the planning for the project carries on for maybe only ten minutes before Floyd seems to reach the end of his patience, shuts the textbook, sets it all down on the floor and declares that you're now taking a break.

Before you can even question, he leans forward. His hands grab your sides. He pulls your frozen stiff body over towards him, with a sort of roughness out of impatience. As grabby as he is, you've never been like this before, back pressed to his chest. Both of your legs sprawl out against each other, his extending beyond yours.

More importantly, you can feel a stiffness digging into your tailbone.

A few more moments pass in quiet.

....

...What now? He's not sure. Is there a certain way you're supposed to start? The obvious steps have been taken... meh. No point in worrying about it. Even if there is a different way you're supposed to do this, you won't mind. Probably.

You stiffen. But, even though your mind commands your body to do reach up and grab his hands, your arms won't move. They stay limp at your sides. Your legs won't move to scramble up and away from him. Your mouth can't form the word stop. You stammer out something else you can manage, a quick plea to h-hold on, wait... what are...?

He rests his chin on your shoulder. Eh... It's normal to do stuff like this at this point, you know... 's been months.

He says it in a whiny tone of voice. Like it's a source of frustration. Like you're doing some misdeed by having taken so long already, like it's something he's owed that he's been unnecessarily patient to wait for. You suppose that probably is how he sees it.

That's when his earlier conclusion clicks with you. The pieces sort of align on their own in your mind. That he likes you - yeah, you gathered that at this point. That's become outright obvious. But this entire time - this entire time - he has apparently been under the belief that you have, despite never establishing such, been in an actual relationship.

And you, you might as well be stuck. You open your mouth again, but whatever you were instinctively about to say must have fallen under the realm of being too defiant. You can squirm and sort of try to pull away, so you know there must be a line drawn somewhere on what you can do, but your body won't allow you to push him back, to stand up, to try and fully move away. You can only writhe around just enough as would be normal for this sort of situation in a consensual context.

His movements are awkward. You can tell he has no idea what he's doing. He's just sort of operating on a mentally crafted step-by-step tutorial based on his average knowledge compiled from socialization and movies and exposure to erotic content.

Since that seems to be necessary first... you're almost a bit surprised, caught off-guard by it, but he awkwardly grabs the back of your head, turns your head towards him, cranes his neck forward, presses your mouths together. It's uncomfortable and clueless, your teeth clack against each other's and the angle is a bit off, so your jaws bump against each other too. Not that he really seems to notice, or maybe just doesn't care too much. It only lasts for a few moments before you're roughly thrown down flat on your back. Your arms get entangled and you accidentally elbow him as you try to shift around.

Still, albeit awkward, he's not hesitant or reluctant, not like the type of guy who jolts at every movement you make out of nervousness and constantly asks if it's okay, no, not like that at all. Whatever nervousness he has is still minimal compared to the average guy, he's more apathetic to your discomfort and far more easily overridden by impulse. In fact, the fact that he has no idea what he's doing makes it infinitely worse. He pushes your legs back way too far, to the point of pain, awkwardly angled. Gawks at the space between your legs like it's mesmerizing, using his thumbs to harshly spread you apart, without considering the discomfort it causes you, not relenting when the pulling sensation makes you inhale a sharp breath.

He doesn't take time to be slow, to savor the moment or anything, just pushes in way too quickly, basically grabbing your hips and jerks his own forward in one quick movement. The first few movements in and out are also awkward and oddly angled, but he seems to get adjusted quickly.

More importantly, the moment he does get adjusted, completely out of the blue and without hesitation, he leans down, opens his mouth, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

Given the razor-sharp teeth he has, it immediately punctures the flesh, and you squeal and thrash at the pain. Even as he lets go, there's a strong stinging in each of the tiny wounds, a ring of pain in the perfectly-spaced bite pattern left behind.

Heheh...

You look up at him as he chuckles, your vision blurred by tears, but even so, you can see the amusement on his face... and your blood on his teeth as he smiles.

It's really nice when you make that sound.

He pauses to swipe his tongue across his teeth, and swallows before adding,

Do it again.

He lowers his head and for a moment you panic at the thought of another bite... this time, thankfully, he just laps his tongue at the wounds, but the sting makes you squeal again all the same. Your legs thrash and kick in the air, you try and squeeze them shut, but that just makes them wrap around his torso. Your insides clamp down on the intrusion inside you.

You don't get bitten again, thankfully, but he continues to lap at the bite the whole time. It's a constant mix of pleasure and pain, both to your poor abused neck as well as your insides. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find yourself making some involuntary noises of pleasure, that you didn't wrap your arms around him and claw at his back... but you also squeal and whimper and shudder, tears fall from your eyes. He doesn't slow down, regardless, seemingly too lost in the feeling to really notice.

On the bright side, it doesn't take very long. You suppose that's expected, given his age and apparent experience level. In the end, you find yourself laying there, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the events of the past few hours, the past few weeks, rethinking your entire series of choices that led up to this point... wishing every possible curse and misfortune upon the other two mer that you can think of. You can't get them out of your mind either, and your face feels hot when you think about the fact that, given the absence of Jade in his own room at night, they both probably know exactly what's been transpiring here. It makes you grind your teeth, curl your hands into fists.

But a hand waving in front of your face draws you out of your thoughts. Something is presented in front of you, placed into your hand.

You gotta swallow one of these... don't have money for a kid yet.

Ah. So that's why he went to the school pharmacy. You feel irritation bubble up when you remember you're absolutely certain that...

Don't they sell condoms too?

He nods. Yeah. But everyone says that those don't feel good, so I didn't get any.

You bite your tongue.

Of course, him buying that also confirms he already planned this out well ahead of time. Not that that really strikes you as a surprise. You just feel numb.

In your misery, laying there, you tell yourself one thing, one small comfort to take solace in: at least this is rock bottom. It really can't get any worse from here.

But, well, at this point, you're pretty sure you upset the will of the universe or something, because it seems to want to prove you wrong.

Something about that night seems to sort of jump-start him. Like pouring raw gasoline on a weak flame and watching it flare up.

Your life changes further still, after that night. Before, you at the very least had the solace of solitude at the end of each day, the comfort of being able to return to your own room, your own living space, eat and bathe and sleep by yourself, a sort of retreat from the otherwise omnipresent menace in your life, a brief reprieve to collect yourself and prepare to face the next day with him all over again.

Now, you don't even get that. You thought maybe it would be occasional that he'd want to stay with you, or at least you hoped, but no. Rather than a slow progression, from that first time onward, he sees it as the natural progression of things that you should now immediately begin spending every single night together. You feel a part of you die inside when he asks you at the end of the school day, do you wanna stay in my place again, or yours? I wanna see your place too...

You finally oblige, which turns out to be much to your annoyance. He wanders all around your dorm room, nosily asking about or looking through every little thing. In the end, though, he prefers you stay in his place. All his stuff is there, you know, more convenient (he says this, but somehow it fails to occur to him that the inverse is probably true for you, or maybe he just doesn't care). Still, seeing as you live by yourself and he does not, you end up spending more nights in your room anyway.

He becomes, to an unprecedented degree, jealous of anything you spend your time doing that doesn't involve him. He more or less pressures you into quitting the club you were involved in. It's at a really bad time and all... and it's not even a useful thing anyway, and I don't know any of those people there, they could be bad, you know... If necessary to deter you to quit, he even goes so far as to imply you're not good at it, and therefore should do something else! You know, something that can be done sitting at the side of the gym while he finishes up his club activities, within his range of sight. He usually leaves the basketball club early these days anyway, wandering off after remembering you're over there and consequently getting his mind to racing and leading him to think about far more fun things that he could be doing if he were with you in his room instead.

Then, it's not just your former club members, but anyone you text or call. He hates you getting phone calls. At least with texting, he can ask questions, but on a phone call, what, you're telling him he's supposed to just sit there and stay quiet? Ugh. Even then, he's usually tugging on your arm after the first few minutes, giving you a pouty expression of frustration so you try to hang up faster, and, if it goes on for longer than three or so minutes, he'll just start blatantly taking over you to whine that you're taking too long.

He doesn't like you eating without him, or taking showers without him either. He's seen enough movies and observed enough couples to know that you're supposed to do those together, right? So, on the occasion that he's busy with work, be sure not to do either or those without him. He'll just make you take a second shower with him again anyway, if you take one by yourself.

Thus, your only reprieve now is the classes you don't have with him. From the moment you wake up, all the classes you have with each other, your breaks, your lunch, your afternoons, your dinners, your evenings, your nights, your sleep, every single second besides that time is completely consumed by Floyd. Your grades take a steep decline; they already had begun to slightly, but now, he gets annoyed whenever you study for more than a few minutes, and insists it's not that important, that you're never gonna use the information anyway, so you should just put that book down and come play a game or get in bed with him instead. That's way more fun. At first it's merely a whine, but if you should insist, his expression gets darker, his tone deeper, as he tells you a second time to stop being annoying and come do something with him NOW. Of course, if you oblige, he can snap right back to a good mood, though.

You don't spend time with others either. You lose contact with most of your friends. You off-handedly mentioned trying to hang out with them, that he could come to, but he always manages to say nah, I don't feel like it in such a tone that communicates what he really means: that he doesn't like you having people you're so close to, that he doesn't want you to like them more than you do him, that he doesn't like how happy you seem with them... but hey, you can still hang out every day at the Mostro Lounge. He lets you sit there while he works, you even are allowed to get a drink a day for free (a generous offer considering the owner's stingy tendencies), and you can do your studying there too before going home for the day.

He tries to get you to interact with Jade and Azul a bit, since they're the only people he trusts with you, but for whatever reason, you're very quiet whenever he brings you around them, and more or less refuse to directly speak to the other two. The three of you besides him tend to exchange these odd glances where you look really upset about something, but thankfully they don't seem bothered. Maybe you're really nervous around new people or something. You'll probably get used to it with time.

He takes some offense to you doing things without him. He has to know whatever is on the screen of your phone or laptop, has to know who you're texting, even has to attend as a very awkward third party whenever you get a partnered project in a different class, where he essentially stands there with an intimidating stare like sort of vigilant watchdog (watcheel?) to ensure... whatever it is he's trying to ensure. As if he thinks the other guy is going to try something with you in the middle of the public courtyard in broad daylight.

Which is a ridiculous notion on its own, but especially seeing as, by this point, people have started talking... it's not as if everyone hasn't noticed the way he's attached to you like glue, and a lot of people witnessed that time he dumped the guy out of the chair next to you in class. If his reputation wasn't already enough that people are intimidated by him, the way he supposedly menacingly stares at everyone that comes up to you quickly becomes well-known. You once even overheard a guy mutter something to another about how he hoped he didn't get partnered with you in class, or else, in his words, Leech might strangle me to death. You also notice that, whenever you're allowed to pick partners even for in-class work, people seem to avoid you like the plague, until the last person left reluctantly has to work with you. People even wave and say hi to you less often than ever, as if by doing so they risk some sort of consequence. People regard you only with nervous glances and a wide berth. It only adds to your feeling of isolation.

You don't get to go anywhere alone by choice either. Sometimes you try. I'm going to the store, I'm gonna go to the mail center real quick, I have to go drop this paper off... Regardless of what it is, he never takes a hint, always just gets up and comes with you, often whining about the matter, as if you're forcing him to go, when in reality you'd give anything just to have five minutes of fresh air to yourself before having to come back to the room, where you'd inevitably be tormented and toyed with for hours on end anyway.

In regards to that... even though he doesn't last very long, he has a lot of stamina, so it's not long before you just go at it again anyhow. You quickly learn that he likes to bite, it's not just a one-time thing. You're covered in tiny little dots, all around your neck, jugular, and collarbones. Even if the uniform allowed for it, you don't own enough turtlenecks to deal with covering it... he likes the look of it, though. You were able to plead against it (you've learned creative ways of asking for things, in this case making comments about how people will see), but he doesn't seem to mind. It's fine if people see, he says, as if whether or not he cares is the issue, not your feelings on it. He doesn't see a reason to have a problem with it. People know about you both, right? So if they see you're all bitten up, they'll just know he did it. The apathy in his tone makes it clear you won't be convincing him not to.

Likewise, especially without being able to outright refuse, you can't deter him from other behaviors you'd prefer he not take either, namely trying to sneak around in public. More than once, as the bells ring and you tell him you're about to be late, seeing that the rest of the students have already begun the clear the halls, he'll grab you by the arm. Eh... we can miss it today. Pulls you into a bathroom or an empty classroom or any other quiet place void of students. Some days he's content with just using your hands on each other, but sometimes, he'll turn you around and push you to lean your upper half against the wall, and shoves himself inside you right then and there. In the library, tucked away in the far empty corners, sometimes in exchange for agreeing to actually study, he'll just have you sit on his lap the whole time... sheathed inside you all the while. He seems far less concerned than you about the risk of people walking by as you are. In fact, it becomes very clear he finds your worry about that to be amusing.

He gets off to you squirming, too. It doesn't even need to be in intercourse either. He can (and not infrequently does) just have you sit in his lap, back pressed to his chest, legs pulled apart and arms held behind your back. He likes to pinch and pull and tweak and squeeze at your nipples, your clit. Just for fun. Sometimes when you're not expecting it at all, too, it'll be fairly gentle (to the extent he can be, so more like harsh movements, just no deliberate acts of pain just yet), and you'll be thinking maybe this time you can finally get a day in where you just do things the normal way before you squeal at the sudden sharp pinch of pain that makes your body jolt.

You suppose it's some sort of predator impulse, like a fish struggling in the maw of the moray. The mer likely retain some of that, or such is your reasoning. That's why, whenever you tense up and squeal and shudder and squirm and pull your hips away, his body seems to react as if having pulled some sort of trigger. Latching his arms around you more fully, squeezing your body tight, so so so tight you can't breathe. Each little sound you make makes him move harder and faster, the faint sting of skin slapping against skin growing stronger and the sound of it growing louder as well. It always leaves you sore inside. You always tell yourself to remain still, try not to squirm around, but you really can't help it, your body naturally reacts to the slamming, blunt pain on your insides whenever he moves. That part isn't a matter of intentionally causing pain, he just... doesn't really know how to be gentle. Just shoves himself inside of you and jerks his hips, which is often a stinging friction when it's so sudden, and his cock matches his body -- that is, long -- and thereby pushes so deep inside it hits spots that send sparks of pain down your spine as well. The squirming is really involuntary, then, but when you squirm, it just makes him go harder, and the cycle continues until you're lying there spent and sore, his arms wrapped around your body to hold you firmly in place.

His arms are always locked onto you, both during and after, and often times whenever you're just sitting around the room as well. And especially when you sleep, he latches on tight, a grip like iron as pulls you in and locks your bodies together. You're not sure why he does it so much, but it often inhibits you from moving, and gets annoying fast. You chalk it up to being another mer tendency. His fingers tend to curl too, though, and his nails dig into your arms and stomach and back wherever he's holding you, so you have to wake him up to get it to relent, if but for a short time.

He likes to use his fingers a lot, actually. There's a lot of casual sexual activity with him, where you'll be sitting doing something else, watching a movie, studying, anything... but he feels the need to have you sitting on his lap, with his fingers either playing with your body, buried inside one or more of your holes, or both. He really likes trying to get you to squirt, it's something of a sport for him, like he's always trying to make you do so harder than last time.

Heh... look, it shot out all over the place.

He's shameless about it. And gross, at least in your opinion, because he has this penchant for consuming, too. Whenever he pulls his fingers out, all coated in slick, he has absolutely no hesitation before popping them into his mouth, seems to genuinely savor licking it all off. Sometimes he prefers to just sort of kneel down (of shuffle downwards if you're laying down), and shove his face against your quim instead, sucking at the fluid directly (while it would be an enjoyable sensation with almost anyone else, you can't help but always get a spike of panic in your chest whenever you think about those teeth of his getting so close to such sensitive parts). He makes sure to leave a bite on the inside of your thigh occasionally, too. Even if your body reflexively tries to maneuver to angle yourself away from his mouth (to the extent that you can manage to do, as you can't fully pull away due to your spellbound state), his hands will reach out, latch onto your hips, fingernails like needles against your flesh, and pull you back with an aggressive firmness.

It never lasts, though. In terms of sex, he always has a selfish streak to him, never does anything just for your sake. So even then, after tonguing you for some time, he still always, always, always has to have his cock in you too, by the end of it, often abruptly stopping out of sudden impatience and flipping you over onto your stomach and get inside you... it's easier to grab onto and control your body in that position.

You did get him to wear a condom once too... for all of about eight seconds before he shoved himself inside you, hesitated a moment before pulling back out and tearing it off before shoving back inside you again. No way. Just take the pill thing instead. You remind yourself to try and find some other birth control measures in the near future.

In fact, you once thought that maybe you could go to the school's pharmacy by yourself, in what turned out to be one of your biggest occurrences of regret since meeting him. In the past, before you ever became... that close, before he really started taking over your life, you would sometimes do things on your own, right? You would often skirt the contractual circumstances of not needlessly avoiding him by instead waiting to accomplish things you needed to get done, during times he'd be looking for you... sure, he'd usually be whiny and gripe about how he couldn't find you, but it was bearable. So, one day, as you sit at the lounge in the afternoon, after taking a look around to ensure the coast is clear, you vacate your usual seat, quietly making your way out the door and down to the school pharmacy. You put your phone on silent, out of some combination of spite and wanting to enjoy your brief outing without interruption, even if he gets grouchy about it. With any luck, if you're only gone less than a half hour or so, he might not even notice before you get back. Besides, he was upset when you left that time you went to talk to Jade and Azul, but he wasn't too upset... although it's been a while since then, and he's even more attached now... still.

Walking around by yourself almost feels foreign, it's been so long. But it feels wonderful, such a relief to not have to entertain conversation or worry about not paying enough attention to the thorn in your side. You go in, grab a few things (might as well try all those contraceptive methods they have). The employees are thankfully licenced older adults, not your peers, which would be far more awkward... and hey, might as well hit the primary school store while you're right there at it. You try to be conscious of the time, but still linger... it won't hurt. You won't be gone long. The store sells that one junk food you're really fond of and haven't had in a long time... oh, they have a lot of it in stock, too. You get a few packages, check out, turn to walk out the door and make your way back.

You pause to grab some of the pieces out of the packaging and pop them into your mouth. Your head is downturned when everything in your field of vision gets darker. Shadow from something behind you. You go stiff. You feel a sense of dread as you slowly turn your head. You force a smile, but it twitches.

...O-oh, I was about to head back to you... did you... need something...?

He doesn't look mad. But that's what makes it more terrifying. If he's irked, it'll show on his face, he'll get that whiny voice and complain and pout. But his face is blank, wide-eyed, staring intently at you, quiet.

I tried calling you.

You don't like the tone of his voice, either. Cold and ominous. Not fumingly angry or irritated, but that much more dreadful due to the lack of intense emotion.

Oh, uh, sorry about--

You didn't say anything.

Well, I-I, I was just going to the--

I looked around for you everywhere.

Your heart starts to beat faster. You've never seen him quite like this, not towards you. You take a step back. I'm sorry, really. Let's... let's go back now, okay?

...No, I already told 'em I was leaving... I'm done for the day.

He grabs your wrist and pulls with harsh force, dragging you across the campus grounds. You stumble, you nearly drop your things. His grip is so tight it's painful. Even some other people turn their heads to stare, it must be that noticeable. You don't like how quiet he is, saying nothing the entire time. Through the courtyard, as you enter the dorm grounds, into the halls, all the way back to the room, he doesn't say a word. Drags you through the door, locks it behind him, pulls you over to the bed and slings you by the arm with such force it knocks the breath out of you as you hit the bed. You don't get to fully sit upright before the mattress shifts again, and he comes to sit behind you, roughly pulling you to sit on the bed with your back to his chest, which is, as you've come to learn, his preferred position when doing most things.

And as usual, he wraps his arms around your body. Without a word.

Tightly.

His forearms cross over your chest, fully wrapping around your frame. The hold gets tighter.

And tighter. And tighter. You sit quietly for a few minutes, stiff with dread and unease at his unsettling lack of words or any outward display of emotion. You're unsure if you should say anything. Maybe he's waiting for you to say something? But even though you're uneasy, you wouldn't know what to tell him, and you're certainly not about to apologize for doing something so normal, something you should be allowed to do without needing him to even be told.

But his grip gets tighter. It starts to hurt. It's compressing your ribs.

You start to panic. Hey, can you not grip so hard? It's... kinda hard to breathe...

He doesn't say anything. A few moments pass.

It gets tighter.

F-Floyd, you're -- you're hurting me--

Tighter, tighter. You can barely breathe. You start to thrash.

Floyd, I -- s-stop--

You feel trembling. It takes you a few moments to realize it's not from your body, but his. Holding you so tight, with such strain to his muscles, it makes him shiver.

He finally speaks. Uses that little nickname you hate so much. His voice is hoarse and quiet, almost a whisper, and hollow, without emotion. As if speaking of something of no consequence.

...I was really worried, you know. Thought maybe you were tired of me... and decided to go to someone else instead.

You shake your head. You sputter out something about how that's wrong, that you wouldn't do that. You don't even really process the words you say, just desperately try to placate.

His grip doesn't relent just yet.

...Hey, you like me, right? And not anyone else?

You nod frantically. Your chest convulses as you try and fail to breathe. You're beginning to feel tingly all over, your head feels light.

So... you're not gonna do that again, right?

You frantically nod, but the motion comes out slower than you intend, as you struggle to move.

...Mm... okay.

You gasp in what might be the biggest gulp of air you've taken in your life as the grip goes lax. You start to hack and cough. He hands you a bottle of water. How considerate.

And then, it's as if nothing happened. He's smiling, says something about how you look really funny, swaying and dizzy like that. Upbeat and pleasant again. But he's really tired from worrying so much, so, he drags you down to lay on your side and declares you'll both nap for a while. He falls asleep quickly, but you're in too much pain from your throbbing stomach and ribcage to sleep... and you're very uneasy having his arm wrapped around you again. You don't sleep much that night at all.

You make good on your word, though, and don't have a repeat incident. From his point of view, even in general, you're really easy to get along with, and he's glad you're super agreeable. Who knew having a girlfriend was so easy? It's very nice. You never reject anything he says, at least not more than once, you always agree after he insists on something. If he suggests you go somewhere, you always say sure. And if he says he's bored and wants to do this or that, you always drop whatever you're doing and follow along. And if he tells you to not talk to someone, to cancel some other plans, to skip class and stay in bed, you never even argue, you just say alright. Sometimes your eyes widen, sometimes your face twitches or your hand will fly up to cover your mouth, sometimes you even answer through gritted teeth and a strained voice, as if trying to not say anything... and you get this weird expression on your face for a moment... but you're still always agreeing, so, he just decides to think nothing of that.

You used to not be quite as agreeable, but these days, you never argue, you always do whatever he wants. It's like a dream come true.

And he's really, genuinely happy. Even other people comment on it, say he's matured a lot and stuff like that, because he's not as moody as he used to be... well, not to them, at least not as often. He's a bit more laid back on some things... although if it involves you, he can still return to his habits, but people have sort of learned that, and consequently learned to avoid upsetting him in regards to you. If you yourself upset him, he can still flip like a light switch, but you don't seem to mind that. Sure, there's been a couple times you've tried to bring it up, but the moment he says anything in return to argue against it, your mouth twitches, you suddenly agree with him and stop saying mean stuff. Maybe you just want attention and pretend to be upset or something. Regardless, he doesn't really care too much... his life is in a state of bliss, and that's enough for him.

Other people are quite happy you've "helped him calm down" too. People seem pretty happy for the two of you in general, say it's an odd fit, but it's cute, and stuff like that.

...And sometimes, whenever you're sitting in class, sitting in the Mostro Lounge, in the library, walking across campus, anywhere... you'll see a familiar face from across the room, near identical to the face you spend nearly every waking second of your life around. He doesn't even bother to pretend to not be looking, doesn't look away when you make eye contact, but instead always continues to observe, and flashes you a knowing, sinister smile. Just checking up on you every now and then and all... and to serve as a reminder to behave according to your agreement.

You do you best to give the most loathsome look of disgust you can muster in return. It's really all you can do.

#nominating Jade and Azul for wingman of the century award #plot twist it was all just to have someone else to watch him and keep him out of trouble to make their lives easier lmao #yandere twisted wonderland #floyd x reader #man i got carried away this is 17k words lmao #I have many feelings for him (get it.... fEELings... Im sorry)#hes like the epitome of that tweet thats like #'they say 'what no pssy does to a mf' but ive seen what pssy does to a mf and its worse'

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