#it’s just you see drawings and you get emotions from them

[moonstruckme]

Hi 🥺 can I pretty please ask for a fic with emt!marauders treating and helping reader get through getting stitches? Maybe having a huge fear of needles and they always make her so faint and nauseous so the boys fix up their clumsy girl and coach her through getting them because it’s just the absolute worst time ever?

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting! These always get so long because I get wrapped up in the semantics haha. I don’t think this is an accurate reflection of how things work for paramedics, but for the purposes of fiction we’re gonna ignore that :3

Cw: needles, hospital, mention of nausea

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 2.1k words

James is murmuring what you imagine to be placations into the side of your head, so quietly you can’t make them out, and you’re doing your best to keep your hand completely still as a nurse cleans the cut on your palm. 

Sirius is watching you from beside the small bed with tension written all over him. He’s digging his fingernails into his biceps and looking like he might actually jump the nurse if she makes a wrong move. 

“Where’s Remus?” he asks, not for the first time. 

“He’s just finishing up with another patient,” she answers again. “He’ll be here shortly.” 

As eager as you are to see your boyfriend, dread curls like vines around your ribcage. James, sensing this, presses his lips to your temple. 

Ordinarily, paramedics don’t handle stitches, but at your request and after some sweet-talking on James’ part, the director agreed to let Remus see to you. What was staunchly not allowed, however, was for anyone not currently on shift to step in, so your remaining two boyfriends are stuck providing emotional support. James seems to be taking this better, whereas Sirius has been antsy and overprotective since you’d arrived. 

A fraction of the tautness in his biceps dissipates when a familiar set of quick footsteps draws closer on the tiled floor outside your curtain. The nurse is the only one who doesn’t seem to notice, the three of you perking up like meerkats the moment before Remus pulls back the curtain, stepping inside. 

“Hi,” he says, a small, automatic smile curving his lips at the sight of all of you. 

The nurse finishes with perfect timing, tossing the wipe into the trash as she starts to leave. You and Remus both thank her, and once the curtain closes the four of you in together everything feels suddenly more right. You hear James sigh softly.

Remus gets closer than he was willing with a colleague present, wrapping a kind hand around your elbow and soothing upward from there. “Hi, darling,” he says again, softer now. “They tell me you’ve had a kitchen accident.” 

“Totally intentional,” James jokes. “We all just really missed you, needed an excuse to visit.” 

You try to laugh for his sake, and though it’s not fully felt it still helps to loosen the knot of unease in your chest. 

Remus smiles gently. His thumb strokes up and down the back of your arm. “How are you doing?” he asks you. 

You do your best to smile back at him, though from Sirius’ expression it must not be very good. “Honestly? I already feel kind of nauseous.” 

“That’s okay,” he promises, and you can tell he’s making his voice extra low and smooth on purpose. Any other time you might laugh at him for it, but actually it’s quite helpful. “It makes sense to be a bit nervous, yeah? But you won’t feel anything, and so long as you don’t look at it while I’m working I think we’ll be all right.” 

Remus looks you in the eyes for a moment longer to make sure you understand. His eyes are the color of tea steeped just the way you like it, warm and honey-sweet. And maybe you’re feeling vulnerable and mushy, but you think you fall a little more in love with him. 

You nod, letting him take your injured hand. 

“I have to numb it,” he warns you, “and that will likely be the hardest part, but once it’s done things will go fairly easily. Okay?” 

You press your lips together, nodding again not because you want to but because you know you don’t have much choice. James readjusts his hold on you, gripping you tightly with one arm around your shoulders and the other folding your head into his chest. You suspect it’s partly to keep you from moving and partly because he knows you need it, but it feels as though he’s just doing his best to give you a continual hug. You appreciate the effort. 

You follow the movement of Remus’ hand as he picks up a syringe from the tray the nurse had brought in. There’s that odd tingly feeling of the blood draining from your face, the awful queasiness in your stomach. 

“Don’t look,” Sirius tells you, voice just as caring as it is tense. You can tell he’s trying to calm himself for your sake, even if he’s not very good at it. You’ve heard from James and Remus that he’s cool as a cucumber when he works with other patients, but when it’s you or someone he cares about he can’t help getting a bit rattled. “You’re okay, baby, just close your eyes. Think of something else.” 

You can manage the first but not the second. When you feel Remus shifting his hold on your hand your breaths shallow. 

“Quick poke,” he murmurs, and your grip on James tightens as his does on you. 

Though you think you’re prepared for it, a mortifying pained sound rises in your throat at the sting. Both James and Sirius coo sympathetically, but then it’s done, and Remus is murmuring praises while James presses kiss after kiss into your hair. 

You open your eyes to find Sirius has moved closer. He passes you a vomit bag, and you take it thankfully, trying to breathe through the closure in your throat. 

“You’ve got it,” he tells you, brows knit together by both sympathy and concern. “You’re okay, it’s already over with.” 

“I don’t really feel like I’m completely out of the woods,” you try to joke. The truth to it tightens something in you nonetheless. 

“You won’t even feel the rest,” James assures you, still with his lips stuck to you like it’s his job. He smells nice, his eucalyptus shampoo cutting through the icky hospital scent. “You’ll hardly know it’s happening, lovie, we’ll just talk about other things and be out of here before you know it.” 

“I really don’t want to faint,” you say. “I feel like today has been bad enough without fainting.” 

“I’m inclined to agree,” says Remus. You’ve been avoiding looking at him, wary of catching sight of another needle or worsening your nausea by seeing your cut, but his gloved hands are empty. He cradles your injured hand in one, the other drawing a tranquilizing path up and down the side of your thigh. “You won’t faint, sweetheart. We’ll do our best to keep you distracted, and if you need to take breaks we can do that. It’s whatever you need.” 

You blow out a long breath, nodding. Remus gives you a small smile. 

“I only ask that you don’t hold any of this against me,” he teases. “I’m going to require lots of assurance that you’re not upset when I get home.” 

James coos, sounding like he’s considering pulling Remus into your hug as well. 

“No, I know this is all my own fault,” you admit. Sirius huffs his agreement. “I could never hold my clumsiness against you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Remus sends Sirius an intrigued look. “Though maybe I’ll have to make it up to you by cooking, since it seems like you could be barred from the kitchen for some time. Can you feel that?” 

You blink at him. “Feel what?” 

“Good.” 

Remus starts messing with things on the tray again, and both James and Sirius seem to come to attention, James putting his arm around your head again while Sirius pulls up a chair by the bed. 

“The medicine’s working,” Remus tells you, “so I’m going to go ahead and get started, okay? Just try and relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes go automatically to what he’s doing, but Sirius says sharply, “Hey.” 

That gets your attention, and he gives you an apologetic look, gentling his tone as he takes your good hand. 

“Just look at me,” he tells you. You don’t know if he knows it, but his thumb is tracing a line below your thumb that’s exactly where your cut is on your other palm. “Are you okay to talk, pretty girl?” 

You hum. It comes out high-pitched and shakier than you would’ve expected. 

“Why don’t you tell us about that book you want Remus to read?” 

For a moment, surprise eclipses your anxiety. “You really wanna hear about that?” 

Sirius grins. “No, but you’ve got a captive audience. If I were you I’d seize my chance.” 

You start to smile back at him, but then there’s an odd tugging sensation on your hand. Sirius notices the change, moving to block your view with his hand before you can look towards Remus’ work. Still, your stomach rolls uneasily. Your head feels unnaturally light. 

Sirius says your name firmly. “Tell us about the book, baby.” 

“It’s…” You fight to solidify your thoughts. “It’s a true story.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was fiction, but it’s not.” Another tug, and you whimper. “Sorry, I don’t feel well.” 

“You’re doing great,” James says, and Sirius takes the bag from you, opening it up in case you need it. “Just stay relaxed, we’ve got you.” 

“What’s the true story?” Sirius asks, trying to get you back on task. “What’s it about?” 

“This guy,” you answer. “He’s from Syria, but he lives in New Orleans and he’s there when Hurricane Katrina hits. I’m not that far in, but so far it’s about, like—” you swallow “—how he’s discriminated against even when he’s helping people.” 

Though you try to stop it, a tear skids down your cheek. Sirius wipes it away gently. “Yeah?” he asks you. “Are you liking it so far?” 

You nod, feeling more in your own body as you try to focus on the conversation. Even the panic is a bit of a relief, better than the strange weightlessness of your head when you’re on the brink of passing out. 

“I don’t think I would have picked it up if I’d known it was nonfiction,” you tell Sirius. He smiles wryly, which looks like it takes effort. “I usually only read fiction, but this was done really well.” 

“I think you’re right,” he replies. “Remus absolutely should read that.” 

“Not you?” James teases. 

Sirius shoots a mean look over your head, though you can tell he’s relieved at the familiar banter. “Are you volunteering?” he asks James. “No? Didn’t think so.” 

“Surely there’s a movie version we can watch instead. Lovie, do you know?” 

“I haven’t heard of one,” you admit, “but the book’s a bit older, so maybe the movie came out before I’d heard about it.” 

“We’ll have to look it up,” Sirius decides. “If it’s really that good, there’ll be a movie.” 

That’s something you could argue about forever, and he knows it, but just then you hear something snip and Remus says, “There.” 

“There?” you echo. 

Sirius looses a breath, and James hugs you tightly. “You’re all done, angel,” he says brightly. 

“Oh.” You feel, perhaps, not as relieved as you ought to, and Sirius chuckles at your confusion, taking your face between his hands and planting a kiss between your brows. 

“You really are done,” he promises you. “You killed it, babe.” 

James loosens his grip on you and Sirius moves his hand, letting you turn your head to see Remus securing a bandage over your palm. He looks up at you when he pulls off his gloves, pride and fondness mingled in his expression. His eyes narrow at the look on your face. 

“Hug?” he guesses, and you nod as you sit forward, wrapping your hands around his shoulders. 

It’s the closure you need, relief dissolving the tension in your muscles and gut as Remus’ thumb strokes your nape reassuringly. “Thanks,” you mumble into his shoulder. 

“You did it, darling,” he tells you. “Nothing to thank me for.” 

“Before I bled all over our counter, I was cutting tomatoes for pasta tonight,” you say. “I’ll finish it up when I get home so I can thank you with dinner.” 

Sirius scoffs loudly. “Yeah, fat chance. You’re not going near another knife for the rest of your life.” 

You roll your eyes as you pull away from Remus, but he raises an eyebrow at you, smiling faintly. “I’m with him on this one,” he says. “At least a temporary kitchen ban is in order.” 

You groan, leaning sideways until your shoulder rests on James’ chest. He wraps his arms around you automatically. “You guys are so lame,” you gripe. 

“Don’t worry, lovie,” says James, kissing the side of your nose lightly. “I’ll finish your pasta when we get home. Everybody wins.”

#emt!marauders #emt!marauders x reader #marauders au #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders hurt/comfort #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders

[urfavlarry]

A Light That Never Goes Out

Joost Klein x reader

summary: you and Joost are both competing in eurovision, you representing {your country} and Joost representing the Netherlands. When Joost gets disqualified you’re both devastated, but you decide to defend your dear partner once you get to the finals.

A/N: first joost klein fanfic, need your honest opinions :,) hope you enjoy tho💙 and dont be afraid to request something joost klein x reader, requests are currently open!

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Eurovision Song Contest

@Eurovision

We are currently investigating an incident involving the dutch artist. He will not be rehearsing until further notice.

Liked by joostsbeloved, eurovision.lover and 1,482,794 others

@joostswifeyy1 and 402K people commentsd

user210651: WHAT?? WTF HAPPENED

aikoswife: oo drama :0

lorelaixx: eurovision 2024 is so wild

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You looked at the post, shocked, disappointed.. angry? You didn’t know what emotions you were feeling but your first priority was currently Joost. The poor mans feelings and dreams were crushed, his cheerful and bright persona was now forced, and it was more dull than ever. You felt bad for your best friend, the one you started this whole journey with. You met wonderful people, made new memories, and all of it was now thrown away because Joost protected himself from unwanted media. It was unfair, it was quite literally pathetic how the EBU reacted. They shouldn’t be punishing Joost, yet here they were, not letting him rehearse. You walked to Joosts hotel room, things that you thought would cheer him up in hand. You knock softly on the door, loud enough so he could hear, waiting patiently outside the door.

Footsteps could be heard from behind the door a few seconds later the door got opened, revealing a very tired and not so happy looking Joost. He let you in, closing the door behind him as you set the stuff down. You walk over to him and open your arms for a hug, quickly getting tackled into a bear hug. “Mm..s’not fair..” He says, slurring his words as he started to sniffle softly. You pat his back, offering him some comforting words and assurances, trying to cheer him up as best as you could. “Shh.. It’s alright.. you don’t know how proud of you everyone is for coming this far.” He picks you up, walking to his bed and lays down with you, lying down on top of you. “I just failed everyone, I failed my people.” He says and you shush him, playing with his hair. “Hey! Listen to me now.” You say, lifting his head up so he would look at you. “You did not fail anyone. You have a whole community supporting you, so don’t you ever doubt yourself. You did nothing to harm someone, you’re a kind, lovely soul who people cherish.” You say, making him smile softly. He cupped your cheek and kissed you on the lips. It was short, but sweet making your stomach erupt with butterflies.

The next day felt grueling. You barely got up and got ready to go back to arena. You were excited to see all those familiar faces, but it felt forced since you now knew Joost wouldn’t be there by your side for all of it. You walked with Joost, hand in hand trying to talk about random topics like you usually did when you saw a hoard of fans. “We should get out of here.” You say, squeezing his hand. “Oh, but why?” He says, looking towards the crowd who was already standing in line to get in the Arena. Joost was always the social butterfly, you trying your best to not interact with crowds this big, not feeling safe since you didn’t really have a guard with you 24/7. You walk with him, letting him charm the crowd like usual all the fans going crazy. You took some pictures with the fans as well, signing things.. someone even asking you to draw a tattoo for them which you gladly did. Everyone was shouting things like ‘justice for Joost’ or ‘We love you Joost.’ Which warmed your heart knowing people support him, Joosts smile not going unnoticed by you. You walk with him inside the arena when some annoying interviewer had the nerve to comment about his disqualification, in a bad way. You had {your countries name} flag with you, which you used to cover him while you walked to the elevator. You mumble swears in your language, cussing the interviewer out like a mad person. Joost pulled you closer by the waist, planting a quick kiss to your forehead “Ik hou van jou.” (I love you)

After long exhausting hours, listening to the most talented people perform on stage, you go on after Bambie. An idea pops up in your head, smiling mischievously. Joost left already, watching from home since he thought it would be best if he wasn’t here when the incident was fresh. You walk on stage, about 20 or more people rapidly cleaning and getting the props and just everything ready for your performance. You waved at some fans and blew air kisses when the lights dimmed, which meant the cameras were now rolling and it was your time to shine. You pour your heart and passion for music out, the last words of the song slipping from your tongue and you finish it off with one last pose.

Everyone cheers for you, you suddenly take out the Netherlands flag, the words justice for Joost written in black paint on it. You wave it around and you hear cheering, of course some booing as well. You smile one last time before getting off stage, Bambie running up to you to give you a hug. Marina hugged you too, complimenting your performance before rushing on stage since it was her turn to go. “That’s gonna be everywhere babe, good luck.” Bambie says and you nod, joking about it with them. “Well shit, I don’t care if I get disqualified it needed to be said. I don’t even know how I managed to sneak that on stage haha.” You chat for a bit more before heading to a quieter place in the arena. You sat down on the floor, back against a wall as you open your messages to see Apson, and even Stuntje sending you videos. They knew about your little shenanigan and decided to record Joosts reaction.

They were all in Joosts hotel room, Joost cheerinf you on and singing along in your song. You chuckles softly as he mumbled some of the words since he didn’t really speak much of your language. When the song comes to an end he starts to cheer; “That’s my girl!” He screams, jumping up and down and clapping for you. “He’s definitely getting noise complaints.” You think to yourself, smiling at the screen. The TV shows you with the flag only for a few seconds since they tried to hide it as best as possible, but the ultimately failed since it was there for a good five seconds. Joost looked surprised, Apson cheering and Joost looks at him. “Wist u hiervan?” (did you know about this?) “Ja, Ja.” (yes, yes) He says and you see Apson smiling from Stuntjes point of view. The video gets cut off after a few more seconds, Joost visibly emotional so they most likely decided pointing a camera in his face wasn’t a good idea.

{‘My love’ in your language}

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Y/N

Y/N

Y/N

Whatshaiaidhsjja

you’re literally crazy but i still love u

is everything okay?

did they do anything to u?

ik hou zo veel van je schat 💙

sent 11:09pm

I’m alright love, see u soon ❤️

read 7 minutes ago

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You decided to watch the others perform, vibing with Bambie to songs and dance with them. After everyone finishes their song, you all go with your own team, the jury votes about to be announced. You blow an air kiss to Bambie and walk with your team, hyping everyone up. You didn’t expect to win, not after the stunt you pulled but you supported your friends to the very end. The final jury votes were given to Nemo by Sweden, you cheered for them since they really deserved the points. Their song was incredible and their vocals were angelic. You snap put of your thoughts, now the public would be able to vote. You would lie if you said you payed attention the whole time, zoning out almost every few minutes.

It was now between Croatia and Switzerland, your bet was on Nemo even though Croatia also did an amazing job. The atmosphere was tense, the silence being a bit more awkward than you liked, just hoping to get this all over with. You hear cheering, looking towards Nemo who looked like a beam of sunshine. You clapped, cheering your dear friend on and sing along to his performance.

It was done. Months of work and stress was finally over. You get a ride to your hotel with your team, scrolling through the hundreds of photos and videos from this wonderful experience. You saw a new place for the first time; Malmö which you were forever grateful for but you couldn’t wait to go back home to Amsterdam with Joost. Your movements were sluggish, your team laughing and joking about it. You chuckle along with them and wave goodbye to them as you all your separate ways to your hotel rooms. You on the other hand were walking to another room. You knock softly, the seconds feeling like hours when you don’t even register the door getting opened and get spinned around. You giggle like a 12 year old girl, Joost putting you down and kissing your soft lips. He closed the door behind him, walking with you to the bed slowly so you don’t fall since he refused to pull away from the kiss. He sits down with you and brings you into his lap. You finally pull away and he looks at you, love struck.

“When did you manage to get the flag you troublemaker?” He jokes and kisses your jaw, going down to your collar bone. “That my love, is a secret.” You say and he groans, lying down with you. “Doesn’t matter anymore.. You don’t know how much you made my day.” He says and peppers your face with kisses. You giggle softly, having to pull him away so he would stop. “Joost that tickles.” You say and he holds you tighter, burying his face in your hair. “You’re the light I needed in my life.”

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!! Do not copy or repost any of my posts on different platforms !!

#joost klein #joost klein x reader #eurovision x reader #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost klein x y/n #joostice #eurovision #eurovision fanfiction #x reader #xreader #x fem!reader #justice for joost #free joost #stand with joost #urfavlarry

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 24

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: hey hey.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Before you get too far, Bryce appears from the shadows. You don't know if he was listening or if he's only stumbled on you but it hardly matters. He offers only a sullen look, too meek to mention the tension that stands between you. He left you first to King Geralt, then Lord Vesemir; he's more their ally than your own. But what can a maid expect? 

"I am to return to the queen's service," you state matter-of-fact. 

"So I've been informed," he says grimly. "Perhaps you might quell her restlessness." 

You stop along the corridor as your surroundings grow familiar. You’re halt and sway as the soldier scuffs to a stop a few steps ahead of you. He turns to face you as you unclasp the cloak from around your shoulders. You drag it away from your form. 

“Sir, will you hold this for me,” you fold it over your arm and offer it to him, “I shouldn’t require it during my work.” 

He looks at it and takes it with a frown. He pets the soft fur around the neck as you catch a peek of the wolf’s badge sewn into the lining. You lift your head and look past him. 

“I will make sure it is not lost,” he promises. 

Your dread mounts with each step. You’re weighed down by the last day and all that’s come to light. You cannot shake the shackles newly clasped around your wrists and the links only draw tighter and tighter. For now, the danger has calmed but it will not dissipate entirely. There is only doom ahead, even if now, it remains obscure. 

You will have no safety, not even in the familiar; not even in your duty. How can you keep on in serving when you are at the same deceiving? 

Jazlene, once Lady, now Queen, has rarely been easy to calm. You've come to expect her virulent behaviour, never once forsaking her the habits inherited from her mother. Now, you fear her fiery emotions and what wrath she may rain upon you should your betrayal be discovered. It almost seems wiser to confess and be done with it all, yet your fear restrains your guilt. 

As you come upon the queen's chamber doors, you give pause, as does the soldier at your side. You share a curious look between you. There are no guards at her door.  

"Gods, I beg, do not tell me she has escaped once more," Bryce mutters. 

You step ahead of him and go to the door. You turn your ear to it and lean in, dragging your palms along the wood. You ball your hand and rap upon it, certain you hear some sound from within. There is scuffling and the queen's trite voice. She is within. 

You peer back over your shoulder at your escort as he squints. The door opens from within and you spin back. It's that orange-haired guard; Gilles. It’s odd and the noise that escapes Bryce’s throat says as much. 

“Queen having another tantrum?” The soldier behind you scoffs. 

“Eh, she is your queen too,” Gilles accuses, “it is treason to mock your liege.” 

“Mocking? No, merely the truth,” Bryce chirps, “let the maid in. She’ll do better work of serving our admirable queen, eh? Tend to her lady needs with a softer hand.” 

Gilles grabs your arm and shoves you through the door, “do not worry her--” 

“Eh!” You feel another tug and you’re turned back as Bryce tears the guard away from you, “unhand her. She is but a maid. If you need feel big, you might go squash insects in the stables, yea?” 

“Be wary of crossing me, king’s pet,” Gilles pushes away the other soldier, “I do not fear any old man, no matter his name.” 

“Young twerp like you, I’ve known many,” Bryce stands unflinching, “my name comes from tossing fools like you in the dirt. Don’t think the years have taken that much.” 

“The maid is a maid, as you say. She hardly needs a guard herself,” the carrot-headed man rebukes. 

“And you hardly need the witness, eh,” the soldier sneers and chortles, “heed your own warning, man, you dance in a pit of snakes.” 

“I am the snake,” Gilles makes himself as big as he can but pales against the taller soldier. 

Bryce pokes his tongue in his cheek and smirks. He doesn’t reply, instead looking past the younger man, “maid, attend your duty and I’ll attend my own.” 

“Sir Bryce,” you utter tremulously. 

“Don’t worry for me,” he assures as his gaze returns to the man before him. “I’ve sworn never to draw steel against a man of the crown, and I shan’t, so long as the man in question does not offer doubt to that title. We are allies,” he slaps Gilles’ arm, his other hand on his pommel, “aren’t we, loyal guard?” 

Gilles’ gauntlet flinches towards his own sword but does not finish its path. He raises his chin and backs up against the wall. 

“In the name of the king and the queen,” the guard proclaims. 

Bryce’s eyes linger on the man and he shoos you with a flick of his fingers, “go on, maid. You needn’t worry for the matters of men.” 

You quickly flit inside, your heart fraught and your veins flooding with ice. That look in the soldier’s eyes worries you. He is a man of war and the mere scent of conflict seems to enliven him. Certainly, you know, if the guard gives the merest of reasons, there will be blood. 

Jazlene is within, abed beneath layers of fur. She lays with a hand against her forehead in a constant state of dismay. The door closes behind you and she sighs. 

“I called for a bath ages ago!” She decries, “if I must be imprisoned in this horrid place, I will at least be warm!” 

The mention of a bath disarms you. You waver on your feet before you can reclaim your wits. You ignore the memories stirring in the base of your skull. The king’s heat creeps up your back as the sensation of his touch tickles in your sides. You could sob for the way your chest rents. 

“Your highness, I will fetch the water,” you acquiesce in a brittle voice. 

“Oh, and where have you been?” She bawls, “here I am, with child and miserable and cold, and you are off, a maid, without a care? Abandoning her queen, as my very husband does the same?” 

You lower your chin at the mention of the king, “my apologies, I was bid to... other duties.” 

The lie is like poison in your mouth. You could gag at your own deceit. You keep your head low. You wish she would rise and pinch or lash or kick you. 

“All I wanted was wine,” she babbles at the canopy as she throws her hands up, “and company. He will not allow my own father to see me. He chased him out like some stray dog. The only family I have close and he keeps us apart. I want to play cards and I have no one to win against.” She thumps her fists down on the mattress and kicks her foot, “how can a queen have no power?” 

She sits up, her eyes fiery as her curls puff out wildly from her head. Her eyes are sparkling from her tears and pretty features twisted. The blankets fall away from her torso. She mops her face with the sleeves of her gown; they are wrinkled and her bodice is crooked. 

“And that Lord Ves... whoever he is, he is a nasty old troll,” she blusters, “I hate him. I hate them all, these winter pests. These animals. Beasts!” She snarls, “how can they live like this? I swear, when we reach the king’s castle, this will not go on. I must have my court. I am a queen and I should be crowned!” 

She sneers and shakes her head, closing her eyes as she presses her long fingers to her nose, “why are you just standing there?” She hisses. “I want a bath!” 

She pushes the blankets off of her and like a storm, she blows out of bed and towards you. You flinch but do not shield herself. She grabs your shoulders and shakes you. She shoves you away from her and you stagger. 

“I will fetch the wat--” 

You cannot finish your words as she strikes you across the cheek. You taste blood. The punishment you longed for is not so freeing as you expect. The sear across your face cannot assuage the flames of your guilt. 

“Go before I knock your teeth from your stupid head,” she snarls.  

You retreat and pull the door inward, letting yourself out. Gilles remains and does not look or comment at you. You rush away, your mouth pooling with blood. You swallow it down as you get to the kitchens, a pair of servants in gray working in the light of the stove. 

“Water,” you murmur as you rub your jaw, “please, can I have a pot to boil?” 

A woman, slender and silent, moves to fetch the large vessel. She hands it to you and you thank her. She clings to the other handle. 

“You will need help,” she declares. 

“Yes, thank you,” you flutter your lashes as the sting sticks in your skin. 

You know her. She is the same who welcomed in the king’s party to the castle. She helps you carry the pot down a corridor. You feel cold creeping through the air and your teeth chatter. She doesn’t react to the chill and leads you out a door into the frigid outdoors. She stops at a cistern pump and angles the pot beneath it. 

She takes a small mallet from next to the spout and beats the lever until it dips, ice falling away from it. She pumps without a word as you watch. You offer to take over but she shakes her head. You linger close by, feeling useless. 

“Lift,” she orders as she stills the pump and you grab the handle as she takes the other. You carry the pot together back into the castle. 

The act reminds you of another time. The night you and Merinda carried water to the king’s chamber in Debray. The woman across from you is a stranger and as cold as the winds. You raise the vessel over the flames and leave it to boil. 

She turns to you and nods, “hard work serving strong men. Best us maids work as one.” 

Her words are kind though her tone remains as hard as iron. Your cheeks tense and your lips tremble, “yes, thank you, miss.” 

“Same as you,” she dismisses the title you give her, “let me know when it steams.” 

You agree and turn to face the pot as it sits above a brazier. You are comforted in knowing that not all is changed in the Hinterlands. That camaraderie among servants has not frozen over like everything else. 

As you carry up the first pot of steaming water, the servant offers a name. Ezme. You return your own before you reach the queen’s chamber. You make several trips up and down, between the boil, and fill the large tub nearly to the brim, adding a pot of cool water to mellow the heat. 

Ezme leaves with the empty pot as you remain to attend the queen’s bath. As Gilles pulls the door shut, you notice how his eyes search past you. You turn and go to Jazlene as she tugs at her dress. You help unlace the piece of her gown, then her corset, and lift her shift over her head.  

She lowers herself into the tub, her dark skin flawless and her figure still as sculpted and firm as ever. She must be early in her state as she has yet to show the effect of her condition. She reclines with her arms over the lip of the wooden tub. 

“And what do you suppose the king is about?” She speaks with her eyes closed, frightening you as you stand quietly by the wall. “Hm? Why does he keep my people from me? Not only my father, but those other summer nobles who have accompanied us?” 

You don’t speak or move. It’s best to act as if you aren’t there. She speaks to herself; for herself. 

“First, he forbade my mother to come. Kept her from seeing me conceive her first grandchild,” she sneers, "and now he has banned my father from my chambers. All because he thought to provide me with a bottle of wine.” 

She is back to that. The wine. She is childish in how she latches onto that one grievance and will not let it go. 

“Because he would defend his daughter,” she snivels, “well, who else will keep me company as my husband remains errant? Oh, how bound he is to his kingliness. Oh, the hero he is. He has brought his wintry misery to the summer people and cursed us all to his wretched ways.” 

You stare at the floor, scalded by the dangerous inference of her complaints. She treads close to those things even a queen should not voice. She might be unhappy but she cannot be so unwise. It is like the game with the dice; she does not think of the turns to come, only what she holds in the moment. 

“He must plot against us. It’s what we all believe,” she sits up the water swishing around her.  

You try not to react, especially as the king’s command returns to you. ‘...you will watch and you will listen...’ 

“He has baited us all into his lands, into his snare, and he means to close it on us. He must,” she puts her hands up as if what she says is only the truth. Without a doubt, she must be right, “he speaks of uniting us and yet he means to extinguish us. He will do away with the summer’s blood and invade our lands as he always meant to.” She scoffs and drags her fingertip over the water’s surface, “he gives to all the same empty vows he gave me...” 

Silence, the sort where you can hear your own heart beating. You hold your breath. She needs to stop speaking. You want to stop hearing. 

“We are not as foolish as he thinks. We will be ready,” she smirks and tilts her head, “and he would not hurt his own prince, would he?” She plunges her hand under the water and rubs her stomach. “Even he cannot deprive his people of their future.” 

She hums and the water swishes around her as she lays back again. She snickers and sighs. You tuck your chin down and clutch your hands tightly. In this war of winter and summer, of king and queen, of husband and wife, you will surely be lost. 

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #au #medieval au #the witcher #winter's king

[depravitycentral]

General Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto Profile

Yandere! Kotarou Bokuto x reader

TW: kidnapping, possessiveness, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation, allusions to somnophilia, Stockholm Syndrome, emotional manipulation, Ko uses you as his emotional support system, delusional behavior, nonconsensual physical affection/touch, vague allusions to non-con, mentions of physical abuse, Kotarou is extremely emotionally needy and physically touchy and just generally quite a handful, mentions of insecurity, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE: 

Introverted  

Koutarou is a lot. He knows it, his team knows it, hell, the entire league knows it.

His energy is difficult to match; he’s a ray of sunshine, blinding yet impossible to look away from, someone with boundless amounts of energy, someone friendly and extraverted to an almost extreme.

Because he is so rambunctious and loud, he would actually really enjoy a partner who mellows him out a bit more, someone who isn’t constantly hyper and talkative and wanting to spend hours on end with other people.

He works well with Akaashi; who is quiet, calm and not as talkative, and his darling would likely reflect that in many ways – the serenity, the sense of peace and calmness, the idea that they aren’t constantly jumping with energy, constantly bursting at the seams to go do something.

Ideally though, he’d enjoy a partner who is still willing to talk, who’s willing to indulge him in conversation and compliment him and give him that adorable smile, just not a social butterfly like himself. It makes him feel privileged, special because his darling wants to speak to him, that they’re using their precious social battery on him him him.

He’s in awe that they start conversations with him; his darling, who so often doesn’t utter a word around crazy people such as himself, who sees someone as hyper as him and immediately run for the hills.

It makes his ego flare, and he can’t deny how adorable they are when they get embarrassed at his attention, when they roll their eyes and shove his shoulder lightly, when they freeze and cower as he loudly proclaims his love for them in the middle of the movie theater and everyone looks over.

He loves it, and it’s a nice bonus that it cuts down his competition - less dirty work for him, something Koutarou is very thankful for.

Creative

Volleyball is Kotarou’s life, and as a result he hasn’t had much time to explore anything outside of it. He’s never really tried his hand at painting, playing an instrument, baking, or really any other hobby.

And of course he loves the sport dearly, but there’s something alluring to the idea of a darling that’s invested in something so completely different from himself.

It doesn’t matter what the hobby is - cooking, drawing, writing, singing, it could be anything at all.

But once Kotarou finds out his darling enjoys it, suddenly he becomes obsessed with it, wanting to learn as much as he can and hone as many talents within it as possible. In his eyes, everything his darling does is perfect, so the thing that they love most (aside from him, of course) must be amazing, right? It must be worth his time to learn about it and become familiar with it, if only just to impress his darling, if only just to share even a scrap of the love they feel for it.

He’ll beg and pester his darling to teach him, constantly asking questions and carefully watching their answers.

Because rally, while Kotarou develops an interest in the activity because of his darling’s love, he also becomes familiar with the hobby because he lives for the way their eyes light up when they’re concentrating. They look absolutely gorgeous, even more beautiful than normal, something sparkling in their eyes.

His knees grow weak when he sees them biting their lip or sticking out their tongue in concentration, his feelings only growing ten-fold and becoming stronger because it’s just so incredibly endearing that his darling has something they love enough to be this devoted.

They get this ethereal glow about them and Kotarou genuinely can’t take his eyes off of them when they’re in that mode.

And so instead of listening to their instructions, he finds himself drifting into fantasies of them finally getting that glow and radiance when thinking about him. It’s what fuels him, what gives him energy.

He just wants his darling to adore him in the way that he adores them.

Nurturing

If his darling is anything, they have to be supportive.

Poor Kotarou is in constant need of reassurance, and his darling has to be willing to put up with that. They have to be willing to deal with the emotional labor of constantly praising him, of telling him wonderfully talented he is, how funny, how charming, how handsome, any and all compliments they can think of.

Their kind words go straight to his heart, making his body feel fuzzy and warm, an unstoppable grin stretches across his face and his words excited as he asks them really? Are you sure?

He’s overwhelmed by the idea of his darling thinking such thoughts about him - they think he’s strong? They think he’s talented? They think he’s amazing?

Needless to say, a few simple words of praise from his darling are enough to get Kotarou’s entire mood shifting, his metaphoric feathers ruffling and a pleasant, gooey feeling in his heart making him feel lighter than air because oh, they think he’s attractive and fun to be around?

He loves how easily they’re able to make him feel good about himself, and he can only hope to return the favor.

As a result, he’ll compliment his darling often, completely out of the blue and about odd, but strangely endearing things. He just wants them to feel how good they make him feel, and he’ll do anything to get them there. 

Competitive

While his darling needs to be someone capable of spilling praise at a moment’s notice, Kotarou also finds himself attracted to those who has a healthy sense of competition in life.

As a professional athlete, he takes competition very seriously, and is also the type to find that a bit of competition is the perfect thing to spice up a relationship. He loves the idea of having a friendly rivalry with his darling – perhaps at something entirely stupid, like mini-golf or slugbugging or something equally childish.

Regardless, he likes the idea of his darling and him being playful together, of having someone he can establish that teasing rapport with. Besides, while he can sometimes be a bit of an emotional wreck, Kotarou finds emotional intelligence extremely attractive.

Thus, having a partner that’s capable of gracefully winning and losing is wildly attractive to him – they’re able to regulate themselves and put others’ thoughts and feelings into perspective.

He cares too much about other people to have a darling with little to no awareness of others’ feelings, and to have a darling that manages to merge in this awareness alongside a healthy appetite for competition and teasing?

Well, Kotarou finds himself falling hard and fast, loving the idea of a darling who’s so mature yet so wonderfully immature – perfect for someone like him.

(And, though he isn’t consciously thinking about it, perfect for a mother – he won’t explicitly bring up the topic of marriage and children, but he enters every relationship with the thought in mind, always hopeful that perhaps he’s finally found the right woman. And lucky him, he has – his wonderful, wonderful darling.)

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Clingy

He’s naturally quite affectionate with those around him, for better or worse. He’s always looking for someone to talk to, hang out with, goof around with, and once his feelings for you form, so lovely and horrible and overwhelming, this trait is only amplified.

It only increases monumentally with the absolute need to constantly be around you, to have your attention solely on him because god, seeing your pretty eyes focused on him makes his heart race so fast he thinks he’s dying.

He wants you to be looking at him at all times, thinking about him every minute of the day, be craving him as much as he craves you. He wants you to daydream about him smiling at you, making you bite your lip and stare at the ground while you fight back a flustered, school-girl-esque grin because god, isn’t he just so dreamy?

He wants you to be fantasizing about hugging him, feeling his strong, muscular arms wrapped around your body while he nuzzles into your neck, whispering your name in a hoarse voice that gets you shivering and nudging your thighs together because fuck, how can anyone sound that good?

Honestly, the idea of you thinking of him is enough to have him grinning with his eyes squeezed shut, a slight flush on his cheeks as he pumps his fist and lets out a victorious laugh.

(There have been quite a few instances of you patting him on the back, albeit awkwardly, to which he responded with a resounding hey, hey, hey! that sounded much too close to a moan and raised his fist to the sky – you’ve never understood why his voice gets all high and shaky like that, but somehow it seems you’d rather not know the answer.)

He thrives on your physical touch, your sweet words and glossy eyes staying fixed on him, and you’ll quickly notice how Koutarou always seems to just be around, how those golden eyes never really seem to leave, his gray and black hair standing out in your peripheral, followed shortly by a cheerful yell of your name and a bone crushing hug that makes you wheeze and shiver as you realize there’s something pressing into your thigh, oh god why is he hard and nuzzling his face into your neck and is he sighing?

It’s almost flattering at first – not expected, but sweet that he seems to feel so close to you, until it’s happening every day, every time he sees you – he’s always hugging you, holding your hand, ruffling your hair, calling you so cute, isn’t she Akaashi? Makes me wanna eat her right up!

It’s endearing and you’ll be flattered that a famous, attractive professional athlete is so obviously interested in you, but it becomes less and less endearing as time passes. It becomes less cute when he’s making some offhand comment about how you must’ve changed your shampoo – he distinctly remembers your hair smelling like strawberries, and now it has more of a lavender scent; but don’t worry, you smell great either way, cutie!

It becomes less flattering as he tells you while you’re being forced to sit in his lap as the team puts up the volleyball nets that you seemed like you were hesitant to come to practice with me today – is there something I don’t know about? Are you seeing someone else? What aren’t you telling me? It’s not nice to keep secrets from boyfriends, you know.

Quickly you’ll come to realize that Kotarou’s level of dependence on you is completely unwarranted for how close your relationship really is, but there isn’t much you can say to change this fact – he’s clingy, he needs your affection and attention, and when you ask Akaashi or Atsumu about it, about why he seems so needy and so obsessed with you, they’ll both write it off as Bokuto and his fleeting feelings, just his childish nature at work.

And when you try to confront him about it, to tell him that you’re uncomfortable with him suddenly springing up on you from behind, pinning you against a desk with his body looming over you while he inhales deeply and whispers about how pretty you look in your new skirt, he’ll just frown, pouting down at you while he whines about how he isn’t trying to be weird, that he just wants to show you how much he cares, how much he loves you.

He’ll only lean more weight on you, hug you tighter and whisper about how he knows you want this just as bad as he does, that it’s only normal for boyfriends to want to touch their girlfriends, to want to spend time with them and hear their compliments and care for each other.

It’s natural, he explains, to be always by your side, for you to never leave his field of vision – which is why you’ll find yourself coming to most MSBY practices and games decked out in the #12 spare jersey he not so subtly demanded you wear (that still very much has the fresh scent of a recent workout in it – something about pheromones and marking you, Kotarou had explained, with words too quick and slurred for you to really understand).

You’ll find yourself spending most of your meals either by his side or in his lap (trying to ignore the way a certain hardness presses against your ass if you move too much, if you’re squirmin’ so much cutiepie, you okay?).

You’ll be walked home everyday from your job and convinced to spend the evening with him, though he spends more time staring at you than watching the movie you’d thrown on.

And really, you can tell yourself every day that you’ll finally stand up to him, that you’ll finally end this bizarre, possessive behavior coming from a man you aren’t even dating, but each time you bring it up, those soft golden eyes will have you feeling like you’re kicking a puppy, his entire aura being shut down in a heartbeat at your stuttered I-I think we need to take some time apart…

Kotarou isn’t doing it on purpose, but you’ll be extremely hard pressed to ever really change the way he acts around you – it makes you feel too guilty, like you’re spinning the situation into so much more than it really is.

So, when you bite your lip and shake your head, giving him a shaky smile and telling him that you changed your mind, he’s beaming and letting out a cheer and scooping you into his arms to swing you around in circles, despite your demands that you must be too heavy to carry, that he’s making such a scene and the entire restaurant is staring and god, he just loves you so much, he knew you were meant for him and your acceptance only proves this!

It’s not so big a deal, right? Kotarou is mostly harmless, doesn’t mean anything weird by his touchiness, his desperation to be with you, right? It’s just a short term thing, soon his attention will move on, right?

Possessive

Kotarou, while incredibly empathetic and intuitive to other peoples’ emotions, does not handle his own especially well.

He’s terrible at stopping himself from having extreme highs and lows over the pettiest things, and this doesn’t stop at just volleyball, at just his normal life – no, his love for you is most definitely affected by this as well. Namely, in the form of jealousy; he’s a firm believer in faithfulness and loyalty, in the idea that you have one and only one partner, that they should be enough for you and that other men and women are essentially just background noise for the real one, the one that makes your heart race, your palms sweat and a lovely sort of nervousness to grow in the pit of your stomach.

He’s always believed in this, and once his infatuation with you forms, this philosophy most certainly doesn’t change; if anything, he clings onto the idea with frantic fingers, clutching at the concept of you looking at no one else for any reason whatsoever.

He’s plagued with the fear that someone will try and interfere with your relationship, that someone will come along and try and tear the two of you apart – he’s terrified of losing you, of losing who he genuinely believes to be his true love to some other man, to some other loser who decided you were pretty and would be a fun catch.

Kotarou is self-aware enough to know that he isn’t the ideal man, that you likely don’t love his mood swings, his habits of switching emotions quicker than you can likely keep up. He knows this, which is why it makes it so much more painful when that coworker of yours starts talking to you more, looking at you with such light and happy eyes, staring at you with what Kotarou is absolutely sure is a blush on his cheeks, when he’s leaning in way too much.

His possessiveness flares up especially in his sadder moments – when he’s already spiraling into a fit of self-doubt, it’s easy to read too far into any situation in which your gaze flickers over to another guy, easy to over examine the way you quickly apologize after bumping into a player on the opposite team in the hallway.

It’s so fucking easy to feel like his place as your rightful partner, as your lover and boyfriend and future husband is being threatened when he sees literally anyone approach you – because really, Kotarou can’t help but wonder if you’d like them more, if maybe you’re only nice to him and letting him hug you, compliment you, and everything else because you feel sorry for him, because you’re pitying him.

And it’s those thoughts that drive him to march up to you and pull you into his chest, to press your ear against his heart while he buries his face in your hair, tears streaming down his cheeks as he asks in a whisper if he’s still enough, if you’ve found someone else, if you even really love him.

And really, as disarming and disorienting as it is, there’s some part of you that will feel bad for him, that will want to comfort this man so obviously in need of praise, so obviously in need of someone to tell him that yes, he’s enough, yes you love him and you’ll always love him.

Even if it’s not true – even if it’s just something you’re saying out of a misplaced sense of guilt, even if it’s something you’ll find yourself horribly regretting the deeper into delusion Kotarou sinks. And so, as you promise that you do in fact want him, that you need him as badly as he needs you and that you’ll never, ever leave him, Kotarou slowly begins to relax, melting into your arms and trying to calm his ragged breaths, the racing of his heart, the tears flowing down his cheeks.

It’s difficult, but as he pulls back and sees your confused, beautiful fucking face, a small smile makes its way onto his lips, the knowledge that you’ll never leave him ringing in his head. Because really, how could he ever ask for anything more?

All he needs is you you you, and now that you’ve promised him, he’ll hold you to it. And when you’re trapped by his side some time later, those strong arms wrapped suffocatingly tight around your waist and his grin big and dopey and scary as he promises to never, ever let you leave his side, you’ll really only have yourself to blame. Because really, while Kotarou’s jealousy manifests mostly as self-deprication and an increased need for your reassurance and praise, ultimately you’ll be the one to push forward his dependence on you.

You’re the one telling him that he’s wonderful, that you’re not interested in any other men, that he’s every girl’s dream. It’s small things that slowly build up, feeding into Kotarou’s delusions until he’s too far gone to really even listen to you anymore; picking and choosing what he wants to hear from you, twisting your words into some grand declaration of love that gets him smiling like a fool, crushing you into his arms and leaving your lips bruised with the ferocity of his kisses.

You’re just so perfect, huh?

Delusional

But in an extremely specific way – on his own, Kotarou isn’t a particularly delusional man. He’s tied to his beliefs, yes, but he’s grounded and lucid enough to understand the importance of seeing multiple perspectives, of listening to others, of staying in touch with reality and not letting himself get too carried away.

And this is still true in the beginnings of his obsession – he knows that you’re just friends, that you have a budding friendship that he’d like to progress into something more, something deeper and more romantic in its origin. And he’s strict about this for a long time – going to Akaashi for dating advice or asking the ever-grumpy Sakusa how he thinks Kotarou should approach you.

(Akaashi gives much, much more insightful advice than his teammate, of course – telling Kotarou to take things slow and listen to what you want, to let you guide the pace and direction of the relationship. Sakusa merely scoffs and tells him to stop being loud and irritating, and you might have a shot.)

And Kotarou sticks to this advice well in the beginning – establishing a positive connection with you and letting you get comfortable, your friendship blossoming and growing into one that you can foresee being one of your most cherished.

But then elements of his infatuation begin developing, and suddenly that advice gets a bit warped, his understanding of your intentions slowly crumbling away because of one critical, crucial factor: Kotarou grows an incredibly strong sense of attachment towards you.

He’s already quite physically touchy and needy as it is, but as his obsession with you progresses, this dependency morphs into not only the more tactile side of things, but his mental state as well. He quickly grows to absolutely need you in every sense of the word; you’re something that keeps him tethered, grounded. Your love and attention is something that he needs in order to survive, in order to wake up everyday and get himself out of bed because he knows that he’ll get to see you today, to hug you and touch you and maybe even kiss you if he can catch you off guard enough.

Within the span of a few months after he recognizes that his feelings for you are more romantic than platonic, Koutarou’s entire mental health and wellbeing revolves around you and the attention you give him.

The advice of his friends still rings through his head, but he instead begins interpreting your actions as you wanting to foster this dependency of his. He thinks that you’re aware of his brewing feelings, and that you feel the same way – surely that’s what you mean when you always praise him, right? His every action comes back to you; he hits a spike in a match he got you exclusive, front-row player’s box seats for?

Well, he’s immediately peering up into the stands, golden eyes frantically searching for you, and once he spots you he’s waving like a madman, blowing obnoxious kisses at you, proudly exclaiming that was for you babe! And he’ll keep going until you acknowledge him, until you give him a thumbs up and a toothy smile, until you yell back that you’re so proud of you, Ko!

(Of course, the phrasing of ‘babe’ is a bit suspect, but you’ll blame it on mishearing him in the loud, packing stadium.)

When he tries out a new recipe for a particular dish he knows you love, he’s eager to call you, begging you to drop whatever it is you’re doing and swing by his apartment to try because he really, really needs you to say you like it.

(He’ll be watching with rapt attention as you hover the fork to your lips, practically not breathing as he watches you chew and swallow, his palms so sweaty and clammy that he nearly drops the pan in excitement when you compliment the food. Don’t pay attention to the way he gulps loud enough for you to hear, nor the way he grabs you by the waist and spins you around, laughing that booming laugh of his and seeming much too joyous for a simple well-cooked meal.)

Everything comes back to the basic principal that Koutarou just wants desperately to impress you – he thrives on your praise, seeing you proud of him and happy to call him yours, and he’s leaping at each and every possible chance to achieve that, to make you laugh and wrap your arms around him, to whisper into his ear that you’re so proud baby, I know you worked so hard, now what’dya say we go home and I reward you for all that hard work, just how you like it?

He’s committed to being your dream partner, to being someone you can proudly call your own, and he quite literally needs you praise and validation in every aspect of his life to solidify his delusions about the way you feel for him – your opinion is something he values over his own life, your presence something he genuinely believes he can’t live without, and so to have you by his side constantly, always smiling at him and making him feel so giddy and happy is something that Kotarou really honestly needs.

The bottom line is that his entire emotional and mental state rests firmly upon your shoulders, firmly upon your reactions to the things he does for you – so keep that in mind as he rushes up to you with the excitement and energy of a puppy, ranting and raving about how he managed to hit one of Atsumu’s new kinds of tosses or block one of Hinata’s best spikes.

Keep it in mind as he presses you flush against his body, his face buried into your neck, his audible inhale and whimper that vibrates against your skin making a shiver shoot up your spine in anything but pleasure. Keep in mind that now it’s your responsibility to keep Kotarou happy, that your job is essentially to make sure that he stays at least somewhat stable.

(With the pressure coming from the entire management staff of the MSBY team, who’ve realized that Kotarou has a bit of a massive crush on you – you, who isn’t doing the best financially, who could very much not survive a class-action lawsuit for ruining one of their star players.)

And once he’s stolen away, it’s your responsibility to keep him happy so that he keeps leaving the apartment, leaving you, making sure that you have enough food and water to survive, so that his depressive episodes don’t cost you your life.

So really, have fun; because eventually the emotional toll will hit you, but don’t worry because Kotarou will be right there to help pick you up again.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

Because his jealous streak is really quite strong, Koutarou has a tendency to misinterpret nearly every single interaction you have with a member of the opposite sex.

He’s automatically assuming that everyone is interested in you, that everyone wants to date you and make you smile and kiss you and fuck you, all of which are things that only he should be allowed to do. He’s jumping to conclusions before things really even happen, sure that you’ll somehow be manipulated into leaving him, into leaving the happy, loving relationship you share with him.

It’s a fear that permeates his every moment when he’s away from you (something that is admittedly quite rare, but still), that seeps into the back of his mind no matter how hard he tries to convince himself that you love him, that you’d never cheat on him or trade him in for someone better.

 Of course, he trusts you enough to not immediately act upon his jealousy when he notices another man in your vicinity. Rather, he’ll start demanding your attention even more, trying to keep you physically turned away from the stranger and keep your eyes focused only on Kotarou, because if you can’t see the man, the man can’t see you, right?

It’s poor logic, and Kotarou panics the entire time he tries to stall, only able to imagine the way you’d look by this new man’s side.

And at the end of the day, that’s really it – Kotarou knows that he’s not perfect. You, with your lovely figure, beautiful face, wonderful personality, and many talents, could really get any guy of your choice. So why would you want him?

He seems confident, like he has no doubts about himself and his abilities, and for the most part he doesn’t, but there’s just something about you that makes him constantly reanalyze himself, that makes him wonder if he’s really enough, if he could ever really be enough for someone as perfect as you.

Sure he’s athletic, friendly, handsome, kind, but he’s not the number one hitter in the league, not the brightest, not the most charming, not the best looking or most mysterious or funniest or any number of other things that you might find more attractive.

And as time passes this eats away at Kotarou’s mind, driving him insane the longer it occupies the back of his thoughts because he just can’t shake the image of you in another man’s arms, laughing and kissing them and just being so fucking happy without him.

He’s dependent on you to an unhealthy degree, absolutely fixated on the idea of needing you in his life, and so Kotarou doesn’t really hold back in terms of trying to control his jealousy – he knows he needs to step in before you even get the chance to be lulled in by some other man. He needs to interfere before he loses you forever, and while he knows you’re probably embarrassed by how he barges in anytime you talk to someone else, Kotarou doesn’t let it hold him back.

Nothing can hold him back in the face of something as terrifying as losing you.

You’d never pegged Kotarou as one for video games, but when he’d dragged you to the new arcade that opened up a few blocks from his house, he practically seemed like a child in a toystore.

With his hand wrapped tightly around yours, he’d led you through row after row of game machines, golden eyes wide as he pointed to each and every one, promising you that he’d beat this one in two tries, or that one with his eyes closed. It’d been endearing in a way, watching how excited he’d gotten, before he dragged you over to a game in the far corner with especially bright lights and all sorts of noises coming from it.

He’d challenged you, telling you with a booming laugh that he’d bet you couldn’t beat him, a challenge you eagerly accepted. And really, while he’d been mildly embarrassed to sheepishly admit he’d run out of quarters after his fifth try through the game, it didn’t stop him from practically sprinting up to the ticketing counter, digging in his wallet for the largest dollar bill he had on hand to trade in. Leaving you alone at the game, biting your lip and reading over all the cartoon-style text decorating the game’s exterior.

You were so engrossed in the game’s appearance that you didn’t hear the blond man’s calls to you, shy little excuse me’s falling on deaf ears. Soon a tapping at your shoulder tapped you out of your reverie, spinning around to come face to face with a man you’d never seen before. Sandy blond hair and thick rimmed glasses sitting atop a rather brightly colored dress shirt and dark jeans.

Do you know how to play? Even his voice seemed timid, and while you were a bit shocked at his question, you’d only smiled and said no, hoping the man would drop some hints on ways to beat Kotarou – hearing his boasting was worse than hearing his moping, after all.

The man seemed relieved, moving forward to restart the game and talking you through the level, telling you tips on when to jump, which treasure chests were worth more, tricks on how to move the toggle piece, even telling you that the game would sometimes glitch and delete off ten seconds to your total time if you moved just right.

You’d thanked him profusely, excitement brewing in your chest at the thought of how you would crush Kotarou, but the sudden feeling of being watched washed over you and left you stiffening up, no longer paying attention to the stranger’s words.

In less than a moment, you were suddenly pushed from behind, spun around so that your back was pressed against the arcade wall, the breath knocked out of your lungs and Kotarou’s face – fit with a scowl – filling up your entire view.

Your surprised yelp was cut off by him suddenly lunging forward, his lips settling onto yours hard enough to make you flinch a bit. He kissed you roughly, loudly, the sound of wet smacking filling your ears and surely the stranger’s, if his facial expression was anything to go by. With red cheeks and a shocked look spread across his features, the man was quick to stutter an apology and speed off, trying to avoid the sight of Kotarou pressing you tighter against the wall and the sound of his groans and grunts.

As soon as the man was out of sight, Kotarou pulled back, licking his lips and looking at you with something akin to hunger swirling in those golden eyes.

Who was that?

Is all he got out, hands still firmly placed at your waist.

Your shock barred you from answering right away, before a resounding smack rung through his ears, the mild pain of your slap to his chest leaving him winded, the pleasant sensation of you touching him numbing out some of the hot, angry envy in his veins.

What the hell was that, Kotarou? You practically yell at him, the sound drowned out by the ringing of a few games nearby.

Kotarou only sighs, squeezing your sides and fixing you with an unblinking stare.

That man was bothering you, couldn’t he see you were here with me?

At your bewildered look, he merely laughed, one hand coming up to teasingly ruffle your hair. Don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll leave us alone for the rest of the day. Now c’mon, I got more quarters – watch me win!

And just like that, he seemed to have forgotten all about the rather heated, intimate moment he’d instigated – all smiles and laughter and taunts for the rest of the day as you shakily and wearily settled by his side, trying to rationalize that perhaps it looked different to an outsider.

Perhaps Kotarou thought the man was bothering you, and was worried he’d only get the hint through extreme measures. And he’s always been a bit extreme and exaggerated, surely he meant nothing by the kiss – even if it had been rather graphic, even if he’d been practically moaning at just the taste of you.

That must be it, you decide, as Kotarou whines and pouts about losing the level once more, begging you to give him just one more try. The small, half-hearted smile you give him is enough permission for him, and just that look settles the raging jealousy in his heart.

You were looking at him again, just as you should be – him and him only.

(And later that night, that’s what’s falling past his lips in a mantra as he vividly remembers the feel of your body in his hands, your lips pressed against his own, the smell of you clouding his every breath.)

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Kotarou’s infatuation with you is, in most ways, strange.

He’s utterly obsessed, of course – his every waking moment is either revolving around volleyball or you, often times mixing and jumbling up so that he’s imagining all sorts of things that get him grinning like a fool, his cheeks bright red and his breathing too heavy to be considered normal.

(Things like seeing you wear his jersey, for example, or having you toss him a ball that he smacks so hard it hurts, seeing your impressed and flustered expression as he teases you about how strong he is. The kind of thing that makes his chest swell with pride, that makes him bite his lip and clutch at his covers late at night when he’s dreaming and wanting and needing you.)

His feelings for you carelessly breach any sort of trust or boundaries between the two of you, and for the most part Kotarou doesn’t see an issue with this.

Of course you probably don’t like when he checks the tracker he’d installed into your phone, but it’s just for safety and he’s sure you’ll eventually understand! It’s unsafe to let someone like you travel around alone at night (or in the day, or in crowded streets or public parks or even in the safety of your own home-).

He’s just taking an extra precaution to make sure someone’s got an eye on you – he’d be more than happy to install a tracker into his phone for you to keep tabs on his location too, if you’d like. (And oh, he wishes you’d like that.)

You’re probably not the biggest fan of when he wraps an arm around you in public, beaming and planting a wet, long kiss against your temple as he greets you, walking to your favorite coffee shop with his arm still wrapped around you, migrating down to your waist and making walking uncomfortable while he prattles on and on about his latest training regiment.

(And sure, maybe he’s exaggerating just a hair about how much he can bench press, or how fast his serves are, but those golden eyes of his are constantly scanning your expressions, looking for even the slightest hint of awe, analyzing any signs that you’re impressed with his physical prowess, his dedication. Impressed by him, really.)

And so really, Kotarou breaks every physical and intangible barrier and wall that you have down, slowly and bit by bit until you’re so desensitized to his antics and his behavior towards you that you stop questioning it. You’re not exactly supportive of the possessive, overly clingy way he treats you, but it’s just Kotarou, so really how harmful can it be? He’s just a silly, overgrown puppy of a man, and why should you ever be afraid of him?

And Kotarou’s feelings towards your living situation reflect this sentiment – that is, he absolutely does not want to kidnap you.

Not only does he find the term entirely unapplicable to your situation if he were to steal you away (because he’s convinced that on some core level you’d actually be pleased, like you want him to whisk you away and keep you wrapped up in his apartment as his little housewife), but it leaves an unpleasant taste in his mouth to imagine keeping you cooped up in one place all the time.

He loves to be out with you, to take you to markets and restaurants and movies and all sorts of other things – he likes having you out in public. It stresses him out a bit, yes, constantly being vigilant and aware of any man that tries to approach you, but by and large he finds that he enjoys your company most and enjoys showing you off most when you’re not all alone at home.

That isn’t to say that he dislikes cozy movie nights spent on his couch with now-cold takeout sprawled across the table, but there’s just something special about seeing you laugh so hard you cry because of him in a busy, sunny street café where everyone can see just how entertained you are by him.

(Those cozier evenings are of course favorites of him, though, because he gets to see a more intimate side of you – when you get sleepy and your eyes start drooping, he has to physically hold himself back from cooing and squishing your cheeks. And especially when you fall asleep on his shoulder or shift just right so that he worm his way into your arms, noticing how your flimsy sleeping shorts ride up just a hair to expose the lower curve of your ass, his mouth is left watering and his own shorts feel uncomfortably tight – something he'd be absolutely crazy to dislike.)

And so, Kotarou will hold off for as long as possible on stealing you away, just for the selfish reason of being able to drag you to all his games, to pretty dates (that you aren’t aware are dates, of course, but that’s just a technicality), to keep you happy and excited and free by his side.

But if things were to go south and you started to really critically analyze his behavior and decide that you don’t want to remain in his life?

Well, Kotarou has never quite felt panic like when you swing by his apartment one last time to announce that you’re moving away. He’s never quite felt a level of dismay like when you tell him you’ll be blocking his number because he’s made you uncomfortable, or when you tell him you’ll be crashing at a male friend’s place.

And really, that last portion is the kicker – it sends Kotarou’s mind spiraling, panic engulfing him and leading him to grab you, his hands shaking as he holds you, eyes flashing as he drags you to his bedroom, holding you down on the bed and using a spare t-shirt to tie up your wrists and ankles.

He’s never known fear like this before, and as he stares down at you – writhing, looking at him with tears in your eyes, looking at him –

He’s never quite known excitement like this before, either.

As a captor, Kotarou isn’t terrible – with one glaring exception: he’s needy. You’ve known this for as long as you’ve known him, but once you’re trapped in his home this is only amplified, the clinginess getting worse and worse because you have no way to dissuade his touchiness, no way to distract him away with outside people and activities.

No, now it’s strictly you and him – which is heaven for Kotarou, exactly what he’s been fantasizing about come to life.

Unfortunately for you, this means excessive time spent together and a lot of physical contact. Though his delusions aren’t quite deep enough to fully mask the fact that you’re unhappy, Kotarou is able to chalk up your lack of enthusiasm for things you did pre-kidnapping as you simply being moody, shy, womanly.

It’s infuriating how much he blames your behavior on your hormones and menstrual cycle.

He’s practically impossible to deal with once your period begins, his touches soft and gentle and nearly scared, treating you like you’re some breakable, delicate piece of treasure that can’t do anything on your own.

He’ll cook meals for you, then promptly bring the chopsticks up to your mouth and say ahh, smiling like a fool as he guides the ramen past your lips, nodding enthusiastically when you chew.

He’ll hold your hand and help you walk around the apartment, big eyes wide and worried when you near any corners, terrified that you’ll somehow hurt yourself because you’re distracted with cramp pain or simply having brain fog. And really, it would be endearing how earnestly he’s trying to make you comfortable and provide for you during your time of the month, but there’s something truly humiliating about the level of disregard he feels for your complaints, simply smiling lopsidedly at you and telling you don’t worry, I’ll make it all better! I’ve got some of that chocolate you like, you want some? I can heat up your heating pad too, and we can watch some old reruns of my games – you’d like that, right? You like watching me play, yeah?

And really, that’s the main thing with Kotarou – the level of care and attention he both gives to you and demands from you is incredibly draining.

The constant feeling of walking on eggshells around him is enough to have your mind running in circles, constantly worried that you’ll say the wrong thing about his personality or his actions and have him moping, convinced that you’re just being mean because you’re disappointed in him, that you’re just playing hard to get because he hasn’t been treating you like you deserve. And so how does he respond to this?

By giving you more attention, swamping you with questions and touches and all sorts of things for the two of you to do together. He’s always forcing you onto the couch to try out a new video game Akinori mentioned when he last ran into him, or watching a scary movie and clutching onto you for dear life at every jump scare.

(He thinks it’s romantic, but the slight bruising left on your thighs and sides from his very, very tight grip are less sweet.)

He’s just generally so very out of touch with how you’re feeling that it’s infuriating – but you have to be careful, because everything you do and say will only cause him to grasp onto you tighter, clutching onto you with more strength than you can handle because his entire mental wellbeing is still resting firmly on your shoulders. He forces you to sleep in bed beside him, waking up to you tangled in his arms every morning, starting his day off right and making it slightly easier to leave you for early morning trainings.

(He has to wake up with you every morning or else he feels like something’s off, his performance severely lacking and the only thing that can fix it being excessive affection from you – something a bit difficult to come by.)

He forces you to share meals with him because it gives him a reason to unabashedly stare at you (though he does this anyway, frequently) and watch as you eat the food he provided you. He has to be the sole one cooking or buying you take out, because it feeds the narrative he’s crafted in his head that he’s your provider, that he’s taking care of you, that he’s being a good male partner and spoiling his perfect little wife.

(Of course, you may not be married yet, but to Kotarou it’s just a matter of time – you’re already entwined in every possible way, living together and spending every waking moment together, so why bother with formal ceremonies and official titles when he can just buy a diamond and slip onto your finger with a toothy grin and a much too long and much too detailed declaration of his love? Of course, if you want the ceremony he’d be more than willing to give it to you, but he’s content with the knowledge that you’re his and his alone already.)

So really, if you can handle his hands constantly being on you, his lips always pressed against your skin, his voice always ringing in your ears, and his presence always a looming shadow over you demanding your praise and attention and time, Kotarou isn’t terrible.

There’s shades of genuine love in how he treats you – the gentleness in his touches, the tenderness of his compliments, the way he’ll moan into your ear the most adoring, utterly pathetic things as he settles himself between your legs.

There’s evidence that he truly loves you in some horrible, twisted way, but it all just feels like too much. Too forceful, too desperate, too passionate, too him.

But no amount of trying to get through to him will ever change the way he treats you, or ever persuade him into loosing the metaphorical lease he keeps you on – you’re his, and no matter how hard you try Kotarou will always firmly believe that fate has brought you together.

And isn’t that so romantic?

PUNISHMENTS:

In general, it’s rare for Kotarou to get genuinely angry at you.

Of course he has his highs and lows – he may be unwilling to seriously listen to your complaints or insults hurled at him, but he’s not inhuman. He still knows that you’re being mean – criticizing him and visibly displeased with him, and just that fact alone has his eyes drooping, guilt, self-pity and shame resting heavily on his shoulders.

His delusions about your feelings for him bar him from fully comprehending that your anger lies in the fact that he’s kidnapped you rather than not cuddling with you the night before, but he can still tell that something is amiss. He doesn’t like when you aren’t smiling and happy, when you’re bothered and troubled, when you aren’t acting like you used to, back before he relocated you to his apartment.

It’s upsetting, really, and it leaves Kotarou desperate to figure out how to get a grin back onto your lips, how to make you laugh, how to please you again. A lot of Kotarou’s anger and punishments stem from a place of insecurity and worry about your perception of him – he’s really quite sensitive, especially coming from someone he idolizes and reveres as much as you, and so his solutions to any sort of non-desirable behavior from you is to simply try harder.

It’s seemed to have worked in his career – hours upon hours upon hours spent lagging after practices to work on his spikes just a bit more, to serve just a few more balls, to get just a bit better.

And he applies this same principle with you – he’d rather pull his nails off one by one than physically hurt you or deny you of food and water or leave you all alone or any number of things he could do to force your codependency on him to become stronger.

And so, Kotarou wracks his brain for any and all possibilities on how to get you to like him more, on how to make you happy, on how to be a better boyfriend.

And frankly, it results in a much, much worse time for you.

If you thought Kotarou was clingy before you yelled at him for installing locks on his windows, then he’s downright glued to your side afterwards, his breath constantly fanning on your cheeks and his voice seemingly never ending as it rings over and over and over in your ears.

If you thought being in the same room as him was difficult before you slapped him across the face for giving your ass a playful squeeze, it’s nothing compared to how he plants more and more kisses onto your unwilling lips, leaving pretty dresses and lacy lingerie out on your (forcefully shared) bed for you, the way he starts piling on the compliments with such frequency and urgency that it nearly makes you sick.

Kotarou has always been a lot, truly, and once his feelings for you are thrown into the mix he becomes too much – and when you’re angry at him, ignoring him or hurling insults at him or denying his affection?

Well, the sadness quickly dissipates into fear, anxiety eating at every inch of his body because what if you hate him now?

You’re meant for one another, sure, but what if he’s messed it all up by not being enough for you?

It’s the stuff of nightmares, and in order to correct it he’ll instead become your nightmare.

You hear him before you see him – his keys jingle loudly in his pocket, the rhythmic noises of the padlock on the front door locking back up sounding too familiar now. You’re sitting at the dining table, staring down at the new book Kotarou had gifted you a week ago – you’ve read it twice already in that span of time, but as his footsteps approach the kitchen area, you resolve to read it once again.

His voice is loud as he calls your name, and you can hear the smile on his face as his footsteps quicken, his pace nearly turning to a run as he approaches you. His arms are around you before you can stop them, his words already pouring out as he starts telling you all about his day, rambling on about how Meian and Hinata had promised to take Kotarou out to a new bar later this week.

He’s still hugging you as he goes on to tell you that it’s supposed to be super good, I’ll have to let you know how it is! Maybe I can bring something home for you – I know your favorite’s always been –

Your mouth is moving before you can even really stop yourself, the words seeming to burst out without your control. Don’t tell me about all your plans in the outside world – not when I’m stuck here wasting away in this fucking apartment.

Your voice is low, uneven, and immediately Kotarou tenses, his eyebrows drawing together into a pout. What are you talking about? I just want to bring you a good drink and maybe we can watch that trashy rom-com you love and –

You cut him off again by harshly shaking off his arms from around you, moving your elbows out in an attempt to get him off of you.

Don’t you get it? I don’t want you to get me a drink! I don’t want you to do anything for me – you need to let me go, Kotarou. You can’t keep me stuck here forever! I should be out there getting a drink too, and going to the fucking store and seeing my friends and living my life! You’re – you’re a terrible person, and I hate you!

Your chest is heaving by the time you finish your spiel, having started off in that same low tone but eventually getting to a yell. He’d backed off of you, watching you with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, his mind racing and trying to understand what you could possibly mean.

Stuck here? What were you saying?

You were happy here – you always return his hugs and his kisses and let him pull you closer to his chest at night and laugh at his jokes and smile at him and say you love him to and and and –

He moves back towards you, going to wrap his arms around you again, but this time you stand up and scurry off to the other end of table and now Kotarou can see the way your eyes are glossy, how you’re on the verge of tears and your lip is trembling.

Leave me alone, I can’t stand you! Not after what you’ve done to me!

And with that, you turn tail and run off to the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind you. Behind the door your hands shake, the tears finally falling as you slide down the wood, landing in a sitting position and cursing Kotarou for not putting locks on the interior doors.

A fresh wave of tears falls down your cheeks as you realize you can’t even use the toilet in peace, not without the constant, lingering threat of him watching you. It’s too much, and soon your head is in your hands, sobs wracking your body.

 Meanwhile, Kotarou is still standing frozen, his heart and mind racing because you’re obviously upset. He doesn’t know why you’re overreacting like this, but the image of you with tears in your eyes pulls at his heartstrings, prompting him to rush and grab his car keys once more, flying out the front door and practically speeding to the nearest store, his grocery cart full.

He’s home roughly twenty minutes later, tears already pooling in his own eyes because the more he’s thought about the state you’re in the more he comes to the conclusion that it’s his fault, that he must’ve made you angry or sad and now he has to fix it.

He has to show you that you don’t hate him – you’re just having a rough day, that’s all. You’re just sad that he’s been gone all day and hasn’t been home to give you the proper love and care that you deserve. His fingers grip the steering wheel tightly even to leave his knuckles white, his teeth grinding and gritting together as he presses down on the gas gauge just a hair harder, desperation and guilt weighing heavily in his chest because god, he hates seeing you so upset.

And as he races back up to the apartment with all the groceries in his arms, he’s quick to wrap his fist against the bathroom door, asking in a breathless voice if you’re okay or if you’re hurt.

You’re still quietly crying, sniffling heavily and trying to ignore him as he knocks again. He knows he could bust the door open, easily overpowering you and giving him direct access to you, but the hurt look in your eyes flashes through his mind again and he decides against it. No, he needs to prove that he’s good enough at reading you and figuring out what you need – he needs to prove himself to you, to make you like him again.

He calls your name through the door again, before resting his forehead against the wood and wincing. I’m sorry for whatever I did, baby, I promise I didn’t mean it!

 He hears you scoff at that, and bites his lip.

You know me, sometimes I just get carried away! I never meant to make you upset, you’ve got to know that. He pauses, shifting around the bags in his arms. You mean so much to me, I love you. I love you more than I think I should, but it’s okay! I’ll be better for you, I promise. I’ll be a better boyfriend and I’ll make you happy. Just – you just have to let me try, okay? Please baby, let me try.

It’s silent for a moment, and Kotarou’s chest feels tight.

Please, he tries one last time.

And although you know you shouldn’t and that you’ll regret it, some small part of you almost feels bad as you hear him sniffle through the wood, the sound of him crying obvious. You bite your lip, a small voice in the back of your head quietly wondering if you should believe him.

After all, does he really make you that unhappy? He’s always so eager and pathetically excited when you smile at him, and is it really so bad to have someone give you all their attention and time? You’re ashamed to admit some part of you almost likes it, and soon your body is moving before you can stop it.

The door opens and Kotarou’s heart is in his throat, the sight of you with red, puffy eyes and your lip caught between your teeth making something between a sigh of relief and a whimper slip from him.

The multitude of bags precariously balanced in his arms immediately have your eyes widening, the names of your favorite snacks peeking through the sacks and making that same pang in your heart twist again, the knowledge that he went out and bought all of this for you just because you were sad forcing you to take a step forward.

You don’t say anything, and Kotarou stares at you with wide eyes, a wild sort of look overtaking his parted lips and pink cheeks, and when you mumble something small, he has to physically strain himself to hear you.

You repeat your favorite drink, swallowed harshly and struggling to make eye contact with him. He mouths it back to himself, before slowly, shyly, smiling down at you.

You won’t regret, I promise! He laughs, the sound relieved, dropping all of the shopping bags on the ground and immediately scooping you into his arms, hugging you so tightly you nearly can’t breath, all the while that familiar, chiming laughter fills your ears.

I love you, I love you, I love you he repeats into your ear, keeping you close and occasionally squeezing tighter.

And even as something crumbles up inside you, you find yourself wrapping your arms around him too, shoving your face against his chest and nodding, your words muffled as you murmur the smallest  I love you, too back.

And Kotarou can only beam down at you, repeating the phrase over and over until all the words start slurring together, until all you can do is slowly relax into the warmth of his arms, into the feeling of someone completely and utterly loving you.

OVERALL DANGER:

6/10

Kotarou is less dangerous and honestly more pathetic than anything else.

He’s a fully grown man who’s desperate for someone to love, whose desperation becomes so deeply ingrained in his feelings towards you that he clutches onto you and never lets go.

Reading into your feelings festers delusions about how you feel towards him, feeding him pretty lies about how you really feel and what your actions really mean.

He builds a relationship between the two of you in his head, growing closer and more intimate with you than socially acceptable for a friendship, becoming more and more dependent on you and the praise you so willingly give him.

It’s heaven, really, and it leaves Kotarou blinded to the ugly side of his obsession.

He’s clingy and overly possessive, always touching you and calling you his and making sure that everyone sees the two of you together – that everyone knows that you’re his woman and he’s your man.

He wants to make sure that your relationship – fake or not – is idyllic, that you’re so happy with him that you could never even dream of wanting another man, never even entertain the notion of needing anyone else because Kotarou is everything you could ever want.

And while he won’t explicitly acknowledge any behavior that clashes with the pretty image of you and your love that he’s crafted in his head, he’s not immune to your negative reception of his touches and his rather aggressive affection.

You’ll have to walk on eggshells around him, careful to keep him from falling deeply into a spiral that could lead to your own slow demise being trapped under his thumb.

It’s stressful, a lifestyle that’ll leave you haggard and spent, tired to the point where slowly it will stop feeling like an act to return his hugs, to compliment his muscles, to tell him that you missed him while he was away at work.

It will feel less and less like a lie, the words slipping off your tongue so easily that it’ll leave you scared.

Because really, while Kotarou is overbearing and quite honestly scary with the way he barrels forwards and takes whatever he wants from you, eventually you’ll find yourself less and less angry, and more and more complacent. It could be worse, couldn’t it?

You have a warm bed to sleep in, a roof over your head, and food to eat.

And the man that holds you flush to his chest in said bed, pays the rent for said roof, and hand-selects only meals he knows you like can’t possibly be that bad, right?

After all, doesn’t it feel good to be needed?

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[underacalicosky]

I continue to torture myself with fix-it scenarios where Anakin just can't handle seeing Obi-Wan having an emotional meltdown and gives up the dark side as a result. What if Obi-Wan was a wibbly mess on Mustafar?

“Until now, you’ve become the very thing you swore to destroy.”

“Don’t lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see—“

“Lecture you?!” Obi-Wan snaps suddenly, his voice bellowing. “You think I came here to lecture you?”

His sharp tone makes Anakin take a step back. He sucks in a shaky breath and straightens his posture, refusing to be rattled. As he opens his mouth to respond, Obi-Wan continues interrupting him.

“No, Anakin, I lecture you for staying up too late. For not folding your tunics properly.” His voice gets progressively louder and more impatient. “For not getting enough fiber in your diet! I’m not here to lecture you. I was sent here to kill you!” Obi-Wan yells.

Anakin knows it’s the reason why Obi-Wan is here, but to hear him say the words, with such certainty, makes his heart plummet. He’d hoped, with whatever little hope was left, that he wouldn’t have to fight Obi-Wan. His chest aches, knowing that this is how it must end. But he ignores the weakness that still lives in him and draws on the dark side for strength. The Force ripples around them when he pulls on it.

“And kill the rest of myself along with you,” Obi-Wan says furiously. “Part of me has already died.” He fixes Anakin with an intense stare, a seething fire in his eyes.

Taking another deep breath, Anakin narrows his eyes and returns his glare. He’s never seen Obi-Wan angry like this. It frightens him, but he keeps pacing like he's a caged wild animal because he can’t let it show.

“It died when you knelt in front of a Sith lord and proclaimed him your Master!” Obi-Wan’s face twists with uncontrolled and un-Jedi-like rage. “It died knowing that you would trade me for him. Do I mean that little to you?” he demands, spreading his hands and arms out in front of him. “I poured all of myself into training you and raising you and—”

With matching ferocity, Anakin shakes his head. “This isn’t about you!” Anakin yells, pointing at him.

“Of course it’s about me!” Obi-Wan yells back. “Your mother entrusted you to Qui-Gon and he entrusted you to me. Do you know what it was like everyday being scared out of my mind that I would let them down? That I would let you down?”

This is not Obi-Wan. Anakin was prepared for Obi-Wan to use reason. To remain somewhat collected as he projected his disappointment. Perhaps confronting Anakin with all the ways he’s violated the Jedi code, betrayed the Republic and democracy.

Obi-Wan’s skillfully talked circles around politicians, foreign royalty, the Jedi Council and kept his emotions at bay every time.

But this… Anakin is unprepared for this.

“No,” Anakin says with another shake of his head. “No, I made these choices,” he insists.

“Maybe I should’ve left the Order with you. We would’ve found our own way.” Obi-Wan was lost in his own thoughts, his eyes ticking everywhere at once, unable to focus. “And I wouldn’t have had to train you to be a soldier. Wouldn’t have dragged you through a war. Wouldn’t have let Palpatine near you.”

“I never wanted to be a burden!” Anakin cries.

“You weren’t a burden! You were my brother, Anakin! My greatest joy!” Obi-Wan screams. “What could I have done differently to stop this?” Obi-Wan asks, nearly begging.

With his fists balled at his sides, Anakin holds onto the last vestiges of his resolve. He can’t let Obi-Wan break him.

“We can’t change the past,” Anakin says, his voice hollow.

“Did I not love you enough?” Obi-Wan asks sadly, tears streaming down his face.

Instinctively, Anakin reaches for him through their bond, a habit formed from years of training and bickering and teasing and laughing and to his horror, it recoils and his heart shatters.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Anakin stomps his foot. He can’t have both. He can’t embrace the dark side to exploit its unnatural powers and still expect to find comfort in the golden and pure light that tethers him to Obi-Wan.

Anakin Skywalker has made a lot of choices in the last day. And here, he makes another.

With his head hung, he relaxes his hands and releases. The ground beneath them shakes as the dark, consuming anger bleeds from him.

Again he touches their bond, tenderly. Lovingly. Apologetically.

“I can’t change the past, but help me change the future,” Anakin sobs. “Please. We need to save Padmé. And the baby.”

Finally, Obi-Wan blinks as he snaps out of his trance. His eyes lock on Padme’s unmoving form on the ground and Anakin sees the moment that Obi-Wan realizes his renewed purpose.

“Yes. Get her onto the ship,” Obi-Wan says with the authority of a war General. “I’ll make sure 3PO and Artoo are both accounted for and have them help me find the nearest medical facility,” Obi-Wan says.

“If the Republic finds me… after what I’ve done…”

“Then we need to be careful where we go so they won’t find us,” Obi-Wan tells him and glances at Padmé, then back at Anakin before he boards the ship.

#obikin #obikin fix-it #it's obikin but not obikin #you understand

[blonditarot]

Jungkook’s future spouse

I was going to make you wait for this one for quite a while but I have to see where the hype is coming from

They are still searching for their purpose in life. The temperance is the card of patience, balance and the silence before the storm. The storm doesn’t necessarily mean something bad is going to happen. Just that right now it looks like they are in a period of their life after they’ve done all the healing they had to. There’s nothing big going on in their life and they are waiting patiently for something to happen. They are happy with where they are now but they are a bit bored. They are looking at their life saying “fine, what should I do now”, but they don’t seem lost. With that wheel of fortune they believe something big is going to happen. They are getting close to their destiny. They are getting close to a turning point in their life. They are exited and optimistic about it,

However that 10 of pentacles reversed tells me they lack financial stability or support from their loved ones. They might be broke (we all are 😭😭). There’s this dark side of wealth so they could be someone who comes from a less wealthy family (the underdogs). Like they see rich people spending money on dumb and useless stuff while somewhere out there people are starving,

I’m gonna move to the bottom row, because I got it after I thought the reading is complete but I asked Jungkook if I should draw some more cards and he actually wanted to give me more cards but I’m the one who refused. And the bottom row is more connected to the top one than the one in the middle. Anyway the moment when I got that ace of swords I heard smart. They have a sharp mind that he will admire. Actually this could even be something that will draw his attention to this person. They are witty and their brain is always analyzing everything. Sharp tounge and doesn’t care about what they say. If something needs to be said they will raise their voice. I also have a feeling they have a clear vision of who they want to be but they get distracted very easily. They are daydreamer but they don’t do that to escape the reality, they do that because they want to see what the life has to offer to them. It’s like they know their purpose, but they still deny it deep down and force themselves to look for different options,

They might not be someone famous right now, but they will be in the future. Or if they won’t become famous they might gain a lot of recognition. But from the fact of how that man is famous, they will become as famous as him,

What’s also popping into my head is that they are meant to be famous, because of that wheel of fortune but they are a bit refusing it because like I said they are still exploring their options trying to find what’s the best for them,

Now moving to the middle row. They are very feminine on the outside at least but their soul there’s the perfect balance between the masculine and feminine. They might act very feminine. They are nurturing, especially towards their friends and family. They have this mama bear vibe to them. Also they are beautiful, both on the inside and outside. People sometimes forget the empress is not just conventional beauty. Empress also has a pure heart that loves unconditionally and lives with harmony with everyone. People might look up to her, admire her. And with those king and queen of cups she understands emotions very well. Their emotions and the emotions of the people around them. Could be very sensitive too and cry a lot. They also know how to be assertive. They know when they are supposed to be the king of cups and take care of someone’s emotions, lead them a bit and when they are supposed to put themselves first and back away to process their own feelings, generally very emotionally stable and calm, not the type you will find doing something questionable or controversial. They are too smart and compassionate to hurt people,

Outside they are very feminine but they aren’t scared of doing something traditionally masculine,

I don’t know if I mentioned it before but they seem like someone that has knowledge on many topics at the same time. Very well educated on everything that is going on in this world and many different subjects (from politics through art to useless facts). They see everything and they know everything, nothing escapes their eye,

Naturally attract attention with their presence but it’s not dark, it’s actually very light energy (light feminine) so there’s quite a lot of people starving for their attention, imagine children showing their favorite teacher a picture of the ugliest house you’ve ever seen to get some of their attention, people like to be around them because of their sunny and healing aura,

#kpop tarot #bts tarot #jungkook tarot

[i-cant-sing]

This is going to be interesting fr, like how much differently do your Theodore treat the reader if they were childhood friends

Yesss, but like imagine Theodore being a platonic yandere for his childhood bestie Y/n. He knows you inside out and knows every struggle you've been through, all your secrets, even the ones you've never disclosed to him (yes, he was outside your window on October 12th, 2008 when you didnt come to school because you were "sick" as you had told him but had actually started your period).

Imagine just how overprotective he is, and he's so mean about it too. Its in his nature. He's glaring at you as you tell him that he had no right to beat up your date just because that man had his arm around your waist because you were okay with it. Ofc he just rolls his eyes and tells you that you're too stupid to know what guys are actually like, that you dont know about the "locker room talk" and he's just trying to keep you safe from pervs but ofc youre too "dense" to see it. You could've thought that he might be doing it because he's interested in you like that, but no, he violently cringes at the mere suggestion of your friends that you two fight like a married couple, not to mention how he treats you more like a sibling than your own. Bullying you constantly, messing up your hair, putting you in headlocks as often as he could, kicking the back of your knees to watch you flop on the ground, anything he could do to annoy you.

But he's also very helpful, yknow? He pretends like he couldnt give a rats ass about your existence but will just scoff and yank your assignment from your hands and complete it. Working on your college essay? He reads it, insults you at how stupid it is, then write one for you in one sitting, actually writing about your personal experiences that moves the admission officers to fucking tears at the pure raw emotion it draws out of them. About to leave for a date and you ripped your dress? Signs to you that this is just universe telling you to ditch the guy but then one look at your sad face and he's pulling out an emergency needle kit from his pocket and sewing it up. He'll think of another way to end your date <3

Theodore is also very possessive of you. Even as kids, he would throw sand in other kids eyes just so that theyre too busy crying to approach you and try to play with you. In highschool, he's already built like a transformer and with him having this mean look on his face, people definitely hesitated to approach you, especially when you have this brooding man standing behind you, intimidating everyone who dared to step within 5 feet of you. Now that you two are adults, and Theo is still working as a spy, he would use his skills to take out people that become a little to important to you.

I feel like Theo isn't an animal person, he is definitely not a people person, but he also doesn't care much for pets and it's not even cause his work doesn't allow him to care for pets properly but I still think that he would get a dog trained specifically to keep you out of danger. Or more particularly, keep you in home and bark (and bite/mutilate) anyone who is not him. So if you got a date, make sure he's not picking you up from home.

Definitely definitely finds a way to make you move in with him, if not live next to him. Of course, he has a different place where he keeps his work stuff and gear hidden, but he needs to live with you for his own sanity. And even though he has trackers hidden all over your clothes and belongings, he still likes to ask you where you are, what you're upto, etc, just to see if you'd lie to him. And if you do, be prepared for a very pissed off Theo who is just huffing and puffing all day because how dare you not trust him, your best friend???? Offensive.

But also, when he finds out that someone, anyone made you cry, or even is causing you to stress out, guess who's pulling out their murder gloves?

#yandere theodore #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n

[antonitty]

༊*·˚ You drew Stars around my Scars !

alternatively , how they react to your scars ༊*·˚

Contains ʚɞ insecurities , comfort , fluff , reader getting emotional, established relationship

(A/n)༊*·˚ In case you ever feel insecure about your scars , don't be <3 Scars , no matter from what they were caused , show how strong you were in the situation. As someone who also has scars , it's normal to feel insecure about them sometimes but learn to accept them , they're part of who you are and who you have become — a strong person <3

༊*·˚ Shotaro

♡ When he first saw your scars , he didn't point it out because he knows that he shouldn't plus he didn't want to — if you wanted to tell him about your scars he'd gladly listen , but he didn't want to force you to talk about it just because he asked. ♡ but he did let you know that he saw them by small actions such as gently caressing your scars , leaving little kisses on them or just gentle rubbing his thumb across them while lovingly smiling at you.

༊*·˚ Eunseok

♡ When he first saw your scars , he just stared , a little perplexed as a thousands thoughts run through his mind. He snaps out of it though when he saw you shifting, feeling a little uncomfortable with his stare. ♡ He'd quickly apologies and pull you into his arms , as much as he wanted to know , he didn't ask from where you got those scars from. He'd reassure you and mumble soft apologies , kissing your forehand and telling you how proud he was of you and that you were his strong , pretty girl

༊*·˚ Sungchan

♡ Another one who was a little perplexed and didn't know what to do . Was it okay to ask? Would it be too much if he'd ask? But thankfully , you noticed his expression and chuckled a little — explaining that the scars were old and what had caused them. ♡ his heart would swell when you told him about it , he was happy that you trusted him enough to tell him about it as it could've been a touchy subject for you. Also someone who'd subconsciously caress your scars when the two of you were cuddling.

༊*·˚ Wonbin

♡ the first time he saw them was when the two of you were getting intimate for the first time. He noticed that you weren't undressing until the lights got turned off , which he had no issue with. But what really made him realize why was when his fingers grazed the bumpy skin, his fingers twitching a little at the feeling. ♡ He panicked a little when you started to feel insecure and mumbled little apologies , telling him that he didn't need to touch your skin if he felt disgusted by them which he quickly shook off. He asked you if this was the reason why you wanted the lights off to which you replied with a small "Yes" before he asked if he can turn them back on again. When you asked why , he replied by saying "So I can kiss each and every single one of them"

༊*·˚ Seunghan

♡ He found out about them while you were sleeping on top of him. Since you only wore his shirt which was huge on your frame , it had moved and revealed your skin while you were moving in your sleep. ♡ He just smiled solemnly and gently caressed them , kissing your forehead while you were sleeping but he didn't mention that he saw them when you woke up.

༊*·˚ Sohee

♡ He gasped when he first saw them. Not because he was disgusted or shocked , no no , in his opinion — your scars were cool! They showed how strong you were no matter what had caused them and he'd tell you that as soon as he saw them with that bright smile of his. ♡ He didn't want you to feel insecure about them so whenever you did , he would draw little stars or flowers on/around them. He even bought band aids with a cute print on them so you could cover them in case you felt really insecure about them.

༊*·˚ Anton

♡ He first saw them when the two of you were supposed to go swimming in his private swimming pool. You were gone for way too long for just getting changed in your swimsuit so he went to check up on you — just to see you standing in your swimsuit , crying. ♡ His heart stopped the moment he saw you crying so he immediately asked what was wrong to which you simply turned around. His eyes would roam around a little to see each scar but his eyes held nothing but love. He pulled you into his arms and reassured you , telling you that you could've just told him that you didn't want to swim and didn't had to force yourself like this. He'd kiss your forehead before kneeling down , kissing your scars softly and telling you that you were even more beautiful to him now — your flaws made you more beautiful in his eyes because it reminded him that you were also just a human , a strong one.

Tagging༊*·˚ @minhosimthings

#riize headcanons #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize anton x reader #anton x reader #riize sohee x reader #sohee x reader #seunghan x reader #riize seunghan x reader #wonbin x reader #riize wonbin x reader #riize sungchan x reader #sungchan x reader #riize eunseok x reader #eunseok x reader #riize shotaro x reader #shotaro x reader #riize fluff #riize x reader

[hype-blue-fixation]

RadioStatic Week Day 3 - Jealous/Posessive - "Your Laugh is Mine" (SFW ticklefic)

All day he'd kept his claws off the Radio Demon and let him go about his daily business. Forced to watch as the object of his obsession talked to other people. Conducted business with them, made small talk, cracked jokes. He hated how they made him laugh and smile. How those people gave him what he wanted. Vox knew he could do better.

And it was worst with the ladies. Alastor was far too kind to them. To the point it made Vox sick. The only time he even felt the smallest pang of guilt over these emotions is when the lady was Rosie. He respected the deep connection the two shared. But if it be anyone else, jealousy was sure to run rampant.

As the day went on, Vox became more fidgety. His body itchy. Everything in him wanted that furry deer back home and in his arms. Evening felt like it couldn't come soon enough. He was already daydreaming of all the things he wanted to do, making the wait all the more agonizing.

“I'm back!” the door clicked open and in came Alastor. Vox was already there, offering to takr his jacket and even unlace his shoes. Dinner was ready. Jazz music played on the radio. Whatever the deer wanted was only a whim away. “I think you love me too much.” Alastor cooed as he was lead to the dinner table.

“Nope. I love you just enough.” Vox held out a cooked human hand, humming in adoration as Alastor leaned forward to nibble each finger off. A playful look coming to his face.

“You love me so much you're even hand-feeding me!”

Vox snorted at the double meaning. Such a charming sense of humor. “Speaking of loving you so much…” his voice trailed off as he lost himself in Alastor's eyes. A small nibble at his own fingers shook him out of the daze with a frightened shout. As much as he loved the other, he was still a beast to be reckoned with. A unique, dangerous, and downright gorgeous beast.

The TV headed man offered more food. Smiling as it was gingerly eaten away. “I couldn't help but watch how you interacted with everyone today. They gave you what you wanted. Satisfied you. Made you smile. Laugh.”

“Mhm. What's your point?” Alastor smacked his lips, signaling he was done with dinner. Vox wiped the blood from his mouth, losing himself in those eyes again. They were always so expressive, and right now they were full of love and interest. Wondering what fantasies had been running through that dumb box head.

They went to bed, Alastor the first to settle down and get comfortable. Vox was right at his side. Wasting no time in getting his claws on that furry belly. Scratching at it and digging in possessively. “This soft little thing? It's mine.” His voice was strong. Not accepting any sort of argument. Whatever Alastor tried to say was silenced at the feeling of a tummy kiss.

Warmth focused on the mouth area of Vox’s screen as he planted kisses at the waist line. He gently pushed up Alastor's shirt as he trailed kisses up to his belly button. Then a blue tongue projected out of his screen to draw buzzy lines around the sensitive spot.

“Vox, darling. You don't have to–”

“I want to.” A firm grip came on his sides as warm kisses and electronic licks graced that fuzzy deer belly. Alastor couldn't help but fluster at the tender care. One hand rested on the back of Vox’s head while the other came up to his mouth to hide the noise that wanted to come out. A task that became harder when the hands on his sides began lightly scratching the soft body.

Alastor was now biting into his hand. Desperate attempts to hold back noise. Vox was quick to tug it away. “I want to hear you. Are you really going to let all those other people hear your beautiful voice and laughter all day then keep it hidden from me?”

“I suppose that is unfair of me, hmm?”

“It's criminal.” Vox blew a strange, vibrating form of a raspberry square on that belly button. Tickling his claws into the sensitive sides. A loud laugh echoed in response. “See, I bet that felt good, right?”

“It does feel good to let loose and laugh.”

“Good! Because all those laughs are mine, you hear? Every sound you make tonight will be mine.” Vox stared directly into Alastor's eyes as his claws scribbled around the belly button. Small giggles ensued. “Every little whine, laugh, breath, wheeze, beg, and whatever comes in-between is mine.”

“No it's not!” Alastor playfully teased.

The claw dipped into the center of that tummy with a small electric shock. That seemed to bring the radio demon back into his place with a storm of uncontrollable laughter.

“Yes. It. Is.”

#radiostatic week 2024 #sfw tickle community #ticklefic #lee!alastor #ler!vox #possessive #my writing

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Chapter 24/34 - waiting room

[Read on AO3]

Today, like most days in the past week, has been absurdly unproductive, and it’s barely eleven in the morning. They’d been up late the night before thanks to an impromptu baby shower thrown by the Lone Gunmen, with Frohike at the helm, and spent the first hour of their day in a meeting with the two new agents they’d selected to take over the X-Files, who it turns out, are old friends. It's like it was meant to be.

Other than that, they’ve just been attempting to revive themselves with caffeine, to varying degrees of success.

The ‘baby shower’ from the night before is a term that should be applied loosely, in this case. Mostly, the three stooges just crashed the apartment at half past nine bearing a puzzling array of gifts and some pungent takeout food that thankfully tasted better than it smelled, but Scully appreciated the thought, nonetheless. She could tell that Mulder had no hand in it, given how surprised he looked when they came knocking on their door. It certainly wasn’t what she’d always envisioned when she thought of her hypothetical future baby shower, but she wouldn’t have expected or wanted anything less in this life she’s made for herself.

How could she have known seven years ago that her new partner’s weird friends would one day be some of her closest friends, too?

Leaned back in his desk chair, Mulder tosses another pencil into the ceiling, shrugging when Scully shoots him an unimpressed look. It’s not like there’s a security deposit on this office that they need to get back. The new agents can just get the ceiling tiles replaced, if it bothers them that much. Maybe they’ll come to realize the genius of it as a form of decoration and mental stimulation. 

Or maybe not, if the look on Scully’s face is anything to go by.

Both of them startle at the shrill tone sounding from Scully’s cell phone, causing Mulder to nearly poke himself in the eye with the next pencil he was planning to use as ammunition.

Scully feels her stomach drop to the floor. Nobody ever calls her cell during work hours…

“Hello?” she breathes into the phone.

“Miss Scully?”

“Yes?”

“This is Wanda with the Connect and Care Adoption Agency.”

Scully’s body goes numb, her hand clutching her mobile device tight so as not to drop it. “Hi, Wanda. How are you?” she says in a shaky voice that she works hard to control. This could either be good news or bad, and she can’t tell which. Mulder watches her with concern but says nothing, merely offering his silent support.

“Well, it’s always a good day when I’ve got good news to share!” Wanda says. “You’ve got a healthy baby girl, 6 pounds, 4 ounces. Born at 10:13 this morning.”

Now, Scully really almost drops the phone.

“She’s here?” she asks, her eyes flicking up to meet Mulder’s, conveying what words, at the moment, cannot.

“Yes ma’am, she is. And she is just beautiful.” Scully draws in a shuddering breath, feeling her heart race furiously in her chest. “Now, there’s a few things to finalize here on our end, but if you’re able to get here in the next hour or so, we’ll get you checked into a room and then you can meet your baby.”

“Mulder,” Scully breathes, reaching out for his hand across the desk. He holds her hand tight, silently promising not to let go. “Um, we’re on our way,” she speaks into the phone, managing to thank Wanda and end the call before bursting into tears. Mulder leaps from his chair and circles the desk, kneeling in front of her and pulling her into his arms without a second thought. She buries her face in his shoulder, squeezing tight.

“She’s here,” are the only words her brain is able to signal to her mouth.

“She’s here,” Mulder agrees, choking back emotion. His hand finds the base of her neck, tangling in the roots of her hair. “Let’s go see her.”

-.-.-

Mulder’s hands shake as he locks up the basement office for what will probably be his last time as the agent in charge of the X-Files. He smiles shyly up at Scully. She looks more nervous than he’s ever seen her before, and they’ve been in some pretty intense situations together, so that’s saying something.

“Come on,” he says, tilting his head toward the elevator. She offers a small smile and follows him, sliding her hand into his as they begin the trek down the hallway.

The pace at which they walk through the corridors on their way out of the building turns a few heads. They breeze past other agents without a second glance, missing the way they look at them oddly.

Spookies are up to something again. What’s new?

They’re almost to the entrance when Skinner nearly walks right into them, carrying a batch of manila folders in his hand.

“Oh, hey, I was just on my way down to you,” he says. “There are some files I want you to look over, just some budget stuff—”

“Not now, Skinman,” Mulder says, cutting him off. “Better places to be.”

“Where could you possibly be going at 11 a.m. on a Tuesday?” he asks, looking at them in confusion. Then, his eyes widening, “Oh.”

“The agency called,” Mulder says, a beaming smile spreading across his face. He places a hand on Scully’s shoulder, glancing down at her for a moment before looking back at their boss. “We’re on our way to the hospital right now.”

Skinner sputters, a smile of his own pulling at his lips. “That’s– that’s fantastic news, agents! Forget anything I said about budget documents. It would be more effective to just put them right into the shredder anyway. Besides,” he smiles, reaching a hand out for a handshake, which Mulder reciprocates, “you’ve got much more important things to worry about.” He gives Scully a hug and pulls back, beaming at them. “Well, get out of here! Don’t worry about family leave, I’ll take care of it.”

Mulder nods, grateful for the man’s support in all of this. They’d made the right decision to tell him, all those months ago.

“Oh, and agents—” he adds.

They pause, turning back to face their boss.

“Congratulations.” 

 -.-.-

It’s a delicate balance between driving as fast as he can to get to the hospital, and not wanting to get in a car wreck on the way over. The radio stays off for the duration of the trip to Annapolis. There’s enough going on in their heads that the additional noise is neither welcome nor necessary.

To think: they’d woken up that morning like it was any other day, not knowing that this was the day their lives would be forever changed. They’d danced around each other in the kitchen, grabbing a slice of toast or a bagel for the road, coffee to-go, their typical routine.

Mulder had started the day as little more than a glorified bachelor (notwithstanding the wife he technically has, which makes classifying his relationship status a little iffy), but now he’s a father. That’s what he is, right? Even if he hasn’t met the kid yet, she’s going to be his. His and Scully’s. They just have to fill out a little paperwork, and… voilà! He loves her fiercely already.

“You have the bag, right?” Scully asks, her fingers nervously picking at her cuticles.

“In the back seat,” he answers. It’s in the back seat where it has been for the last two weeks, holding everything they might need for when this call finally came, as she well knows.

“Are you freaking out?”

He chuckles, chancing a quick glance in her direction. “A little bit. You?”

“Mm-hmm,” she nods.

Aw, Scully.

He wants to reassure her that they can handle this, but he’s pretty sure that nothing he says will help until they’re actually holding their baby in their arms. Some things you just can’t be prepared for. You can only face it head on when the time comes.

They follow the signs to the hospital parking lot, and before they know it, they’re standing in front of the automatic doors leading into the building.

This is it. Their time as partners, just the two of them, is over. They’ll enter this building as Agents Mulder and Scully, FBI, and the next time they leave it, they’ll be someone’s mom and dad. A family of three.

Now Mulder knows how Neil Armstrong felt jumping out of that lunar lander.

One giant leap for spooky-kind.

“Ready?” he asks, gazing down at his best friend, his better half. The only person crazy enough to do this with him.

She looks up at him, her eyes sparkling.

“Wait—”

His brows furrow, but before he can ask her what they're waiting for, she reaches up to his collar and extracts the chain that holds his ring. The corner of his mouth pulls up in a smile as he realizes what she's doing, and he reaches out to do the same, pulling the necklace carefully over her head.

She doesn't say a word as she undoes the clasp and removes the simple wedding band. She merely holds out her hand for his, and just like she had done that day at the courthouse, she slides the ring onto his finger.

He looks down at the diamond ring he'd bought for her, holding it in the palm of his hand. It's time for it to take its rightful place, not hidden away any longer. His eyes meet hers, and onto her finger it goes.

Then, with a guiding hand placed on her lower back, Mulder steps forward, hiking the hospital bag up over his shoulder.

They’ve been through so much together, and these rings prove it. They’ll take this final, monumental step together too.

They’re greeted at the front desk by a nice looking nurse, who makes quick work of checking them in. Another worker appears moments later to collect them from the waiting room, and leads them to an elevator that will take them up to the maternity ward. As the doors close, Mulder slips his hand into Scully’s wordlessly, offering his silent support.

Once they arrive at the correct floor, they’re shown to a private room, where they’re given wristbands to wear with “Baby Girl Mulder” written on them along with a corresponding ID number. It’s a family room, complete with a bed, sofa, chair, and large window overlooking the parking lot. This is where they’ll be staying for the next couple of days. He’s stayed in worse hospital rooms, so he can’t complain. This is luxury, by comparison.

The nurse tells them to wait there, and Mulder follows Scully to the couch, taking a seat despite the restlessness he feels right down to his bones. He’d much rather pace the room like a caged animal, but he knows that will only make Scully more anxious. He settles for cataloging everything the room has to offer while they wait. His eyes land on the empty plastic bassinet in the corner lying in wait for their baby to soon occupy it.

It’s all becoming real.

A gentle knock on the door signals someone’s presence, and a cheery middle-aged woman enters, smiling broadly at the two of them.

“Are you Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?” she asks, reading off a clipboard.

They stand to their feet. “That’s us,” Mulder says, finding his voice first.

The woman nods. “I wanted to formally introduce myself, I’m Wanda, the Director at Connect and Care. We spoke on the phone earlier.”

“Of course. Hi,” Scully says, shaking the woman’s hand in greeting.

Wanda removes her glasses, letting the cat-eye shaped frames hang around her neck from a beaded chain. “Brenda, your caseworker, will be here in a few minutes with your baby,” she says, “I just thought I’d check on you first. How are you feeling?”

Scully looks up at him for a moment before answering, a whole conversation passing between them in that short time that only they can understand.

“A little nervous,” she admits, answering for the both of them. “I, um– I thought we’d get a call when she was on her way.”

That brings out a hearty chuckle from Wanda. “We usually try to, but it seems your little girl was anxious to get here! Can’t say I blame her, it’s an exciting day!”

“So, everything went fine, then?” Mulder asks. He’d read enough pregnancy and delivery books between the IVF days and now to have nightmares about some of the worst possible complications.

“Oh yes,” Wanda assures him. “The nurses said it was one of the fastest deliveries they’ve seen this year!”

Mulder feels that last little ball of worry untangle itself in his stomach. Relief passes over him. She’s here. She’s here, and she’s fine.

Only a little longer.

-.-.-

Wanda looks at her watch, then checks her pager.

“Looks like it’s time,” she says, smiling over at them. “Alright, you two, you just wait right there and Brenda will be right in with your baby in just a few minutes.”

“Okay,” Scully says, hoping her voice isn’t as shaky as it feels.

Mulder squeezes her shoulder, the arm he has wrapped around her being the only sign that he feels as nervous as she does. His face is carefully blank, and though he doesn’t outright avoid eye contact, she can tell he’s barely able to focus on their physical surroundings. No, it seems he’s caught up in a maelstrom of thoughts and emotions just as she is. She wonders if he has a matching knot of anxiety in the pit of his stomach, too.

“This feels unreal,” she whispers, letting out a breathy laugh as he leads her back over to the couch. Once they’re seated, her hand comes to rest on his knee. It grounds her, makes her feel just a little less insane for doing this.

“I know, I can’t believe they’re gonna let us walk out of here with a baby,” he responds.

Opening her mind to extreme possibilities, indeed.

She chuckles and closes her eyes, leaning against him. His hand finds its way to hers, wordlessly intertwining their fingers in a gesture of comfort almost as old as their partnership itself.

“You got the car seat set up, didn’t you?” she asks.

“Car seat, diaper bag, bassinet—everything’s ready, Scully, we got this.”

They’re interrupted by the door squeaking open, and suddenly, Scully’s perception narrows to nothing but Mulder, their case worker, and the bundle of blankets the woman carries in her arms. Everything else fades away.

The pressure on his knee increases as Scully pushes herself to standing, unsure of what to do with her arms. She squeezes his hand once before letting go, and he’s on his feet half a second later, his body practically vibrating with energy at the complete and total awareness of how life-changing this moment is.

Nothing will ever be the same.

“Here she is!” Brenda cheerfully announces as she makes her way across the room, followed by Wanda. 

Scully’s heartbeat quickens as she comes nearer. She can feel her throat closing with tears, and she covers her mouth to stifle a sob. Mulder’s hand presses reassuringly on her back near her shoulder blade, while the other grips her bicep, all but holding her in an upright position.

“Here you go, mama,” Brenda says, and Scully watches in awe as the most perfect, precious baby is placed into her waiting arms. The weight of her is so little, but so right. That phantom feeling she once felt when looking at other women with their babies is finally alleviated. That emptiness, finally filled. 

Finally, finally, she has a baby of her own, one who will one day look up at her and call her “mom.” One who she’ll read bedtime stories to, comfort on stormy nights when the thunder rattles the house, kiss when she falls down and hurts her knee.

Her heart shatters into a million pieces and rebuilds itself all in the measure of a breath.

“I’ve been dreaming about this for so long,” Scully gasps, unable to stifle the sob that escapes her. She feels Mulder’s hands rubbing in comforting strokes, holding her together.

She turns her head to look up at him. His cheeks are wet with tears of his own, but the smile—she’s never seen one quite like it on his face before. So free and full of gratitude. Maybe the closest she ever saw was when she told him her cancer was in remission. Before today, she might have called that the happiest day of her life. But, now…

She closes her eyes and breathes in the moment, her head dipping forward so it rests against Mulder’s chin. He pulls her tighter against him and presses a kiss to her forehead, then another.

No question about it. This is the happiest she has ever been.

~~~

Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]

@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear

#msr #txf #x files #xf fanfic #mulder and scully #my fanfiction #fox mulder #dana scully #of our own making #ooom #msr adoption fic #adoption

[justalittlesolarpunk]

I've been feeling climate anxiety lately. I think it's really necessary to change everything and progress towards a postcapitalist future that doesn't endanger our planet, our Pachamama. But I don't see how that will be possible. What do you think about this?

Hiya, thanks for getting in touch and sorry it’s taken me so long to reply. I get a lot of asks like this so I think I might make this another masterpost. Here’s climate anxiety solutions according to me:

1) Accept your feelings. Recognise that fear, grief, rage and despair are all normal, healthy, human reactions to paying actual attention to what is being done to our planet right now. You aren’t wrong or sick or overreacting by feeling them. Sit with the emotions, allow them to wash over you, cry, smash plates, punch a pillow, journal, write poetry, yell at the news, scream in the woods! Trying to repress these feelings will just make them harder to deal with.

2) Recognise that the paralysis of climate anxiety is not a good place from which to make a difference. Try to let horror, guilt and self-blame go, and lean into the love for people and planet that motivates all eco-anxiety. Start consuming good news stories and keying into activist spaces so that you can learn how others are claiming agency to fight this problem, and how you can emulate that. Remember that despair absolves you of responsibility and that true solidarity with the most affected means letting your emotions drive you towards action.

4) Educate yourself through reading, listening to podcasts, attending talks, seeking advice from elders, and more - whatever works for your particular life and circumstances. The more informed you are about these issues the more you’ll feel able to address them.

3) Make as many changes as you can in your personal life. Are you eating a high-carbon diet? Try to reduce that. Are you consuming a lot of water or energy resources? Look for green and low-intensity alternatives. Examine your transport habits and prioritise walking, cycling, trains, low or zero emission buses, sailing, and replacing longer-haul journeys with remote options. If you live in a throwaway culture, try to prioritise reuse and repair over consumption. Consider how your livelihood impacts the planet, and if it’s negatively and making change is possible for you, start the process of moving towards an occupation that lets you make a more positive difference.

4) Fight! Join a campaign group, write to your elected officials, attend a protest, donate money to causes if you can, commit civil disobedience if you feel willing and able. Put pressure on governments, businesses and the public to change their ways.

5) Prioritise joy and connection. Spend time in nature, watching animals or foraging for plants or swimming or walking or just letting it all wash over you. Link up with other people to talk through your worries, go hiking, lobby for climate justice, safeguard ecosystems and pass down your local heritage. Sometimes, take a day or two to check out of all these issues and problems and just spend time drawing, cooking, playing games with loved ones, or whatever it is that relaxes you. There are enough of us that you can take the time to avoid burnout.

I hope some of this was helpful, and do please get back in touch if you have any other questions or queries. You’re part of a huge global community of people who love and revere the earth and want to build a better future for all life upon her. Hold onto that.

#solarpunk #hopepunk #cottagepunk #environmentalism #social justice #community #optimism #bright future #climate justice #tidalpunk #ask #answer #climate anxiety

[wordy-little-witch]

Surprisingly enough, not Buggy centric this time!!

AU where things are mostly the same up to a certain point - that point being the disbanding of the Roger pirates. Shanks and Buggy, as the two children on board, wind up already having an unhealthy codependency, something only exacerbated when all the adults in their lives are suddenly just.... Gone. They still fight after the execution. They still argue. They still split. But they come back together not even hours later because Buggy and Shanks and Shanks and Buggy are the only constants in an ever changing world.

They remain close and connected, hiding it from the world at large by playing to their strengths. They are effectively co captains and allies in equal measure, each having a place with the other and theirs.

So when Uta is found and taken in, Buggy is the voice of reason and the one to help Shanks with determining the safest avenues to keep her and keep her safe, the ways they should have been.

The events of Elgia go similarly to the movie, up until the moment they leave her. Shanks, emotional, uncertain, scared, calls Buggy for input.

Buggy tears him a new one for even considering that ((bonus for contextual angst if anyone is interested, lmk)).

Anyway, they decide that yes, being on the Red Force full time is dangerous, but abandoning her is out of the question. They'd need somewhere relatively safe with someone trusted within accessible distance...

Uta and Luffy are both sat down together, gentle words spoken and facts exchanged. Shanks introduces them to Buggy, and they both share the information with the kids as well as they can. Uta is upset, admittedly, but after some time to cool down, a talk with Makino, and then another talk with Buggy, she comes around to the idea. Luffy's already like her little brother anyway. Might as well just... accept it.

Makino is happy to have an extra set of hands around the bar, and Uta and Luffy are her "appretices". While Lu has a tendency to be a bit overzealous, Uta is a good calming force on him, and he's good for drawing her from her shell. They're nearly attached at the hip, and you'd be hard pressed for a long time to find them within arms reach of each other and NOT be holding hands at the very least.

Buggy and Shaks wind up coparenting the kids for a while, until Shanks is finally set to leave - for a long voyage. He passes the hat to Luffy. He makes the promise-

And is quickly cut off by am annoyed Uta because "you can't just say it like THAT, dad!! Give the hat back as a great pirate, sure, but don't make it so you can't see each other. You'll both cry."

So, promise amended to allow for visits and talks and stuff, Shanks passes on the hat, sets out, leaves his kids with their own denden, and looks forward to the future and adventure!!

Just to get a call three weeks later from a frantic Buggy that "garp took the kids up the mountain to some bandits and I'm going TO THROTTLE THE MAN-"

He's a few weeks out, and he's already on the way, just wanted to let Shanks know.

A week later, Buggy calls again, quiet and shaky.

"There's four now. And one of 'em is.... fuck, Shanks..."

"What is it, bugaboo? Is someone hurt-?"

"He asked what I'd think, 'if Gold Roger has a son'."

"...."

"....."

"........."

"His name is Ace."

"Oh by the seas..."

"Yeah. Good news - our little brother is our son's brother."

Shanks cackle, hysterical, because otherwise he might cry.

In one world, a pirate prince, a blue blood, and a revolutionary's legacy meet and swear to be together, alove in the wooded lands of their world.

In this one, they've got a cursed songstress at their hips, more than enough adults to worry over them, and a fundamental shift in the bearings of fate.

#uta #luffy #ace #sabo #asl brothers #asl + uta #implied shuggy #shanks #buggy #witchy's aus #teehee haha canon is a suggestion~

[irlrikomoriyama]

can i ask about how many ways can a raven break (if thats one of the thing u can ask was a bit confused)

its one we really hope to turn into a fic we have a friend who is very excited for it (and is also our sensitivity reader) riko joins foxes and as part of his therapy with abby he keeps a journal where he writes long thought spirals any time he is anxious so that then he can consider whatever or not he wants to show it to Abby or not, the journal is here to help him keep his thoughts a bit more organized. At some point Riko notices new notes in the journal notes in German (his notes are always in Japanese) as well as doodles and drawings. this agitates him. he is aware that andrew is the only person reading his journal which he passively allows but after the notes started appearing he started hiding the journal. this leads to andrew growing suspicious, when few days later riko catches him going through journal he had hidden they get in a fightt (riko punches him all of sudden something that somehow never happened before). one thing leads to another and over course of following therapy with new therapist as bee was not qualified enough to diagnose him Riko is diagnosed with dissociative personality disorder (all parts of system refer to themselves as Riko but they do have nicknames they use as well) There is "Fox" (you can think about him as all my cute fox riko headcannosn and arts very energetic and full of life very fannon kind of riko)- Riko after joining the foxes, he is much more open in showing his emotions he is actually based on the rp "quarterhouse/roadkill" he dates renee aaron and kevin , genuinely loves life and is very unhappy when he finds out details of his condition - he feels extremally possessive of the body and time he has which leads to frustration towards other alters and fear that their actions might fuck up his already complicated life "Raven" (much closer to canon riko or even fandom riko - evil brody mad bad) - Raven was the first fronter and keeps most of memories from nest, this is why fox himself did not remember much form before joining foxes, raven hates fronting now, he misses nest he hates fox tower hates the foxes , his pride is still not healed, he does snot feel safe or accepted around them, he is nyctophile and still gets triggered into fronting any time its perfectly dark (when foxes figure that out there is some teasing happening about it which he despises) as well as when it rains. Raven loves kevin and feels posessive over jean and does not see reason why renee and aaron should be part of that. is the one who broke jean "captain" possibly riko's first split - captain is on the court and takes care of all things exy, he will become good friends with neil who will be the only reason captain starts fronting outside of games- just to chat about exy. captain is also not convinced about need for relationship with renee and aaron as he sees both to be mediocre players and he is straight (all of this plays a lot into aarons relationship insecurities and makes fox miserable and resentful of his alters). captain is very frustrated to find out he is not a captain any more and is pretty damn hurt over not being a captain anymore it is bit of crisis for him considering the title was core of his personality as far as he rememberer. later on riko get title of co captain <3 is very confused as to why jean can not play "King" - trauma holder, specifically physical abuse , hates fronting because feels phantom pains constantly "Princes" - a split made to help King cope with the psychological part of the abuse, princess is regressed little girl who just wants to be loved and cared for, jean is her knight and she can NOT find out who hurt him , it would break her

there is also danny who is split from one of riko's most constant abusers he does not front just provides bad vibes and keeps them on edge psyhologically fun stuff i love about it: Kevin absolutely can not deal with the fact that he is not the favourite person of all rikos fox woudl prefer not to choose but renee was his girlfriend before kevin became his boyfriend again raven sees kevin as his everything so this checks out captain also likes kevin but he end sup pretty taken by neils approach to the game over time princess loves jean and renee and idk she doe snot give a fuck about exy so can kevin shut up about it? (jean is delighted) king does not like anyone i don't think kevin should want to be dannys fave luckily nobody other than riko knows about danny anyway there's actually .. a lot of lore for this technically the ship is riko/renee/aaron/jean/kevin the same way like in quarterhouse but fox unlike raven feels embarrassment and shame for pact actions and doe snot feel even allowed to look at the man

#aftg #riko moriyama #all for the game #kevin day #jean moreau #renee walker #did au #dissociative identity disorder

[pixlokita]

I guess idk I’ve never experienced it myself so that’s why I can’t draw it -w- or maybe there’s a secret that nobody is telling me┌( ◕ 益 ◕ )ᓄ pls sharing is caring

#pix habla #hhhh i beg of you 😔 please please tell me the secrets #i honestly stay away from romance too yeah that’s on me #but for the little love I have for it I shall like to be good at it ? 😭 #i shall like to draw stuff get it out of my system and be on my way #:v heckin heckity heck #it’s just you see drawings and you get emotions from them #but then you see your attempt and there’s nothing it’s so empty #and weird and awkward :’v #just like me #lmao #i mean the art does reflect the artist #this is my curse I guess

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

#jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi riptide #gillion tidestrider #GONNA START FORMATTING MY COMICS BETTER. W THE PROPER 'PREV' 'NEXT' LINKS #REALLY DIDNT EXPECT TO CONTINUE THIS SERIES BUT AAAUUUHH MY BRRAAAIN MY BRAIN IS SO IDEASSS. I HAVE 3 OTHER PAGES SKETCHED OUT #NO PROMISES ILL FINISH EM ANY TIME SOON OR EVER. MY WHIMS ARE THEIR OWN BEAST AND I ONLY DRAW ON MY WHIMS #THAT BEING SAID IF U COMMISSIONED ME ILL GEEETT TO YOUUU IM SORRYYYY. ART IS AN EMOTIONAL RELEASE FOR ME N BABY I HAVE EMOTIONS. #ESPECIALLY ABOUT GILLION TIDESTRIDER CHAMPION OF THE UNDERSEA HERO OF THE DEEP.for the desc here i put smth that i typed up in the tags of #another thing i made. i gotta make a proper Baby Gillion tag or smth. eventually.. eventually...I LOVE DRAWIN THIS LIL BABY GUY.. #i also LOVE depicting the teachers as just being so fuckin mean. ofc theres variation in that. just like in all things.like the teacher her #idk if itll be mentioned but the octo lady is named Ms Octburn.an octopus pun based off the name of an actual councilor i had #when i was in elementary school i got bullied alot but teachers never did anything. i hated adults and didnt trust them. #but this councilor o mine was so genuinely sweet. i remember spending alot of time w her. she doesnt work there anymore. #but that one school adult that actually earns ur trust and is there for you when they can be.its SO important for a child i think #i hope she knows how much she helped me.youll see in the next page that ms octburn isnt perfect either.but she tries. they all try.somehow. #ALL these comics are gonna be inspired by somesorta experience o mine in the school system. school is so fucked up u ever thing abt that #AND GILLIOOOOONNN IN THE MOST FUCKED UP LITTLE SCHOOL OF ALL. MAINTAINED BY A CULT. CENTERED AROUND HIM. OUR CHOSEN ONE #I IMAGINE ALOT BANKS ON HIS SUCCESS. THIS IS THE WORLD. THE WHOLE WORLD. THE PROPHECY IS GOING TO COME TRUE N UR TELLIN ME #THAT ITS THIS LITTLE IDIOT THATS GONNA BE SAVING US? WHAT IF HE FAILS. IF HE CANT GET THIS RIGHT THEN HE WILL FAIL AND WE WILL DIE #WE NEED TO TRAIN HIM. WE NEED HIM TO LEARN. AND TO SUCCEED. OR ELSE WE'RE DEAD. WE'RE ALL FUCKING DEAD. I IMAGINE THAT MUST BE STRESSFUL #in other news i hope ppl actually giggle when they read these. they ARE intended to be comical. dark humor or whatever. like its also sad #this is intended to be a sad comic series. but a funny one too. does that make sense? god i hope so.saw some1 say they had flashbacks- #-reading this. like YES!! THE INTENDED EFFECT!! YOU GET ME!! i love seeing ppl get upset on this lil baby boys behalf. i LOVE seeing ppl- #-wail n weep n cry in the comments. i LOOOVE seeing ppl RELATE to baby gillion. and i love letting u all know that this wont be a happycomi #gillion gets his happiness arc in the actual show. this series is one of unfortunate events. teehehehe. do u guys remember that show #i keep listening to the lil songs from A Series of Unfortunate Events for inspiration. GOOD STUFF!! #anyway uuhh uhh thats all i got in my brain. for now. feed me ur comments give me ur input i NNEEEEEDD THHEEEMMMM

[moeblob]

I unfortunately picked up Bravely Default 2 again (I bought it back when it released) and then started over since I last played it in June 2021. And. You know what. I like these silly beans. And then I saw concept art for Dag's expressions and I am not the same. Why did they decide to give him huge fangs in it.

(also I'm trying so hard to avoid spoilers less for plot but more for characters so if you know anything that happens to characters shhhhh. also the expression concept is below the read more so you can see what I mean.)

#bravely default 2 #dag rampage #selene noetic #i only just recently reached ch2 in the game and i may have a problem #someone was like wait how have you not gotten farther in 25 hours #and im like im sorry its a problem i have an obsession you dont understand #and then he found out i had three of the four party members with two jobs capped at 12 #and then the fourth only had one capped but a bunch high up #and then i told him i was trying to get the gambler asterisk and that meant i had to play a childrens card game #and then i had to do side quests when they popped up #and he was like wait at that point you probably dont need jobs at 12 omg #and im like i know its a problem i cant stop it #so anyway chapter 1 took me forever because i committed to the grind too much #the emotions i feel for silly lil side characters ................ its too real #like even the fact that you beat these two up in the prologue im like teehee funny lil blonde guy #then you dont interact with them in a ch1 quest but they show up again at the same time doing the same quest #and guys i am FEELING EMOTIONS theyre just funny lil mercenaries doin funny lil mercenary things #also please do not tell me anything about the game past ch1 because i want to continue to enjoy experiencing it #which is why i have my ask box closed bc its a game from 2021 and i know im really behind the times #but i managed to not know anything until now and i wanna keep it that way #also i dont really know how to properly draw noses especially when i doodle #but his nose is important and i already struggle with his big jaw so i had to include it somehow #and in the concept art it looks like he has a lil stubble but in game i dont see it so im like ... squinting at he