Speaking on crushes now weve heard ur thoughts on floyd what about jade 👀,how do you yourself think he may act ?,cause for an eel thats more secretive in his own ways its fun to think about

HII ANON!!

I like the way you think! Floyd with a crush is already entertaining, now imagine the quieter twin when he's infatuated with someone... let's see...

if you manage to attract Jade's affection, you must be quite something. I think he'd like someone who's curious and, like his brother, someone that doesn't stay stagnant and complacent, but is always looking ways to improve and to change! it helps to keep things far from boring! also, he'd like someone who listens to his interests and is willing to indulge him from time to time, even if they themselves don't actively take part in them. he'll gladly listen to them talking abt their interests in exchange! perhaps while they share some tea and the newest mushroom dish he's created...

hmmm, noticing that Jade has a crush would be quite hard, seeing as he's naturally more discreet. I think he'd talk more with his crush, not that he'd become a chatter box, mind you, but he'd be happy to share his interests with them and, depending on how far their trust relationship is, he might be willing to share a bit about himself, too. he'd be very curious and attentive to what they like and make sure to remember it, either so he can bring up in conversation later or so he can buy/make it for them. he'd be very teasing, but it's just that he likes the banter! having someone that can keep up with his light hearted jabs and throw back some equally as good can be very entertaining! I also think he'd like someone that can indulge him with some more serious topics of conversation that might require some more brain stimulation. if they can offer him new perspectives on things, he'd be delighted!

I think he's very atunned with his feelings and would notice if he's got a crush on someone, tho at first he'd proceed like normal just to see how things play out and to observe a bit more his own reactions, as well as theirs to check if it might be reciprocated. he might want to try to spend more time with them even with his busy schedule, convincing them to visit the lounge or to take a walk with him at the botanical garden. he miiight make some flirty remarks here and there or some more casual touches if he's got suspicions of them liking him back, but it would be nothing too remarkable and still subtle. he'd also act more like a gentleman/butler type around them and do little service acts (for free!! mostly). he might get a bit protective, if anyone is giving them trouble, all they need to do is say it to him and he'll take care of it :)

and if you manage to fluster him?? HE'S IN DEEP. take him by surprise, be with heartfelt gestures and words or a bold move forward, and he'll be so enthusiastic. he'll love to see what other unexpected things you'll do next!

I think Jade might also like some more domestic settings? while he enjoys his daily entertainment and healthy dose of chaos, getting some time to sit back and just have a quiet and peaceful moment with his love can be equally enjoyable. getting used to each other's presence and routines, doing little things for them and knowing each other in and out! just the intimacy and trust involved...

Warning: toxic relationship, mention of drugs

(sorry, but it's not really NSFW)

53- Genshin Impact, YANDERE!Diluc x Reader

“The time has come”

Your gentle hands and your worried face are imprinted on his heart as if they were a glowing mark on the living, pulsating flesh of that muscle that lies in his chest.

You, who took care of him without any pretensions, offering him only your good heart, what spell did you cast on him to make him so slave to you? For you the Darknight Hero had been nothing more than a human being in distress at the time. You have neither condemned nor blessed, you simply healed with all the delicacy you were capable of.

You were that person for whom Diluc would destroy the world, that world that threatened so much to hurt you, every minute and every second. He would destroy what he protected, just to keep you safe, and that thought that was taking root more and more in his mind seemed natural, pure and sincere.

And you smiled happily at him as you told him about your day, you confided in confidence and he was so happy with that trust you placed in him. When he smiled at you you lit up, and he was so happy about it.

Initially, the fact that Kaeya sat next to you so languidly wasn't really a problem. Or rather, he was, but the mixed feelings he had for the Captain made him let his guard down. Diluc trusted you, and he knew that the Knight had that unbearable way of dealing more or less with everyone. So he had swallowed the boulder and set you free. It wasn't unreasonable enough to keep you from living, smiling at Albedo or chatting with Jean. Not as long as you always came back to him, like a faithful little dog looking for his master. He was more important to you than them, right? He was as important to you as you were to him, wasn't he?

If someone had dared to make you suffer it would have turned to ashes that same night, you knew that. You should have known.

There was nothing strange, it was normal that he wanted so much to protect you. Yet that evening, laughing, you agreed to a meal with the Captain with the same lightness and the same smile with which you would accept a drink offered by him.

How could you? You knew how Diluc thought about that man, you knew how much the presence of him near you burned inside him. But you, despite necessarily having to be aware of it, had accepted that invitation.

"Why did you say yes?"

He had asked you without a particular intonation, while his skilled fingers polished the glass still wet with droplets of hot water.

He didn't look different than usual, in the eyes of others, but you felt a thrill when he spoke to you. You knew him well enough to sense that slight hatred you had directed at him.

"Do you mind?" Your question was spontaneous and surprised. Why did you have to be so amazed? You knew how dangerous Kaeya was, he had warned you many times. But even more, you knew how much he couldn't stand that blue-haired boy, so why was it so surprising that it bothered him to allow even just an hour of your time alone with him? How did it come to your mind to give yourself to him without asking his permission?

His lack of response made you just sigh. Your sweet hand had slipped silently into his, reassuring. You held it so tenderly that it had suddenly calmed Diluc's troubled soul.

No, you didn't do it nastily, it was just naivety. You didn't want to hurt him and betray him, you just didn't know how to protect yourself from the dangers that surrounded you.

"Listen to me ..." your voice was sweet, light, consoling, and Diluc listened to it. His precious cherry-colored eyes set attentively on you.

"Listen ... I know it bothers you ... I probably don't know him as well as you do, but if I don't give him a chance I'd be in the wrong, right?" Your smile was not right for Diluc at that moment "You are my dearest friend Diluc, nothing will ever change that.

Yet without your realizing it, you had suddenly changed everything.

You grabbed a poisoned sword and stuck it in his chest.

A dear friend. How long have you two been just dear friends? You never have been.

He was yours, completely yours. And you were his. Of him forever, of him in eternity.

"Diluc?" Your uncertain voice made him tremble inside, but he didn't show it. He pushed his flat expression away from you, returning to his work.

It wasn't your fault, your heart was too kind to resist all those tempters around you. They wanted to bribe you too, didn't they? They wanted to take you away from him, they wanted to keep you for them. That was why they told you that you two were just friends. Only dear friends.

The very thought made his stomach turn, the bile in his throat that made him burn it.

It was his fault. He had to realize before the danger you were running, he had to protect you right away.

He hadn't said anything to you as you walked back to the winery with him that same evening. It wasn't too strange that you were going back with him. In fact, it was almost routine - it would have become routine, since it was obvious to Diluc that sooner or later you were going to live there.

He could hear you talking to Adelinde, laughing softly as if you had no problem in the world.

For a moment a flash of clarity enveloped him. What if he was wrong? What if he had never been to you what he thought he was?

No, it wasn't like that. He couldn't have been so wrong. It was just the cruel world that wanted to take you away from him. As he protected his beloved Mondstadt, he would protect you too. You would not have understood at first, but then over time you would both be calmer.

It was only the first step, swallowing the bitter pill, then over time you would have been able to understand how much all this was aimed at your good, how much he was the only one who really loved you, whom you could trust.

And then he would have known that all the smiles you would have given to others would never have been like those given to him. Yes, he would be sure that no one could ever take you away again. You weren't going to leave like his father and Kaeya did.

He had to play the part of the villain only at the beginning, and then you would understand.

Diluch closed his eyes, calmed his heart beating too hard in his chest, swallowed, and then he was ready.

He turned to you, in his hands two glasses full of scarlet grape juice shone wrapped in the warm lights of the house.

"Can you follow me, please?"

You had never been in his room, he had never thought he needed to take you there before the due time, but it seemed that time had already passed.

"I had never been ... here." Your smile was troubled, but you trusted him, so your agitation was quieted by curiosity.

Surely there was a serious reason why he had brought you there, and there really was.

Your glasses rose slightly in gratitude, and you smiled in amusement, commenting on how much you looked like two children drinking a sweet soft drink together imitating grown-ups.

Sitting like this, next to each other on his bed, in the soft lights of the evening, it could be considered an extremely romantic situation. But apparently not for you. It would have been enough a hand that leaned gently on his thigh, your head on his shoulder, on his chest, it was enough your reddened face that languidly approached him in search of his love for you. It would have taken so little and you would have spared both him and you so much pain, but you were too busy laughing and enjoying your friendship.

"Diluc ... I ... I don't feel too good."

Your broken voice breaks his heart, but this had to be done. The help from him you were waiting for will never come, while your head was starting to spin and your strengths were slowly waning.

"Diluc ..." your goblet shatters on the floor and the din covers the click of the key in the lock.

Someone outside the room asked if everything was fine but the landlord was ready to reassure that there was nothing to worry about - on the other hand, what was strange? To them you two were such a perfect couple.

You should have asked for help, but the more you realized the situation, the more your power to act was fading.

"Why…?" You didn't ask it with your voice, but with your eyes. Those eyes of yours that he had always loved, that now looked at him clouded and frightened.

"You'll be fine." His cold voice reached you like a red-hot arrow as he sat down beside you again. Your dear Diluc, your dear friend. What did you do to him to make you deserve this? You were laughing together. What happened?

"This is your fault." He was so authoritarian, and at the same time so natural. You couldn't really believe Diluc was capable of hurting you, it wasn't like him. You were right, but at the same time, the one who bent over you and stroked your cheek so terribly tenderly was undoubtedly him.

"But that's okay ... I'll take care of it, it's normal for someone as nice as you to be so naive." His lips were hot and cold at the same time on the skin of your forehead.

“I'll protect you from everything, don't worry, you'll be fine. You'll be fine, and I'll be fine too ... no one ... no one will take you away. " The kisses on your neck were like blades, betrayal, despair, and he repeated them and repeated them. Oh when would you wake up ... when would you wake up? What could you ever do?

“You are so naive… but you will understand. I'm here. "

He continued kissing you even as your silent body lay unconscious on his bed. He was so beautiful, so composed too as he covered your flesh with poisonous love. Diluc would not change tomorrow, nothing in him had been affected, neither his ideals, nor his attitude ... only, now he had you.

He loved you, and he respected you. Even as his teeth left their hallmarks on your neck, his grace was unquenchable. Was it fair to brand you right? Even if you wouldn't see beyond that wall tomorrow, it was right.

And as his thoughts slowly wandered the young man lay beside you, finally enjoying your warmth next to his body. Yes, the times were definitely ripe.

Moon Over The Meadow

this is my very first harry fic!!! i want to write more for them so if you would be interested in that please let me know!!

word count: 3234

warnings: mentions of death, i don't think anything else though.

It was here that Y/n learned to live off the beaten path she had always known, in the midst of the forest green that was her lover's eyes.

or

Harry is the prince and Y/n is a peasant.

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There wasn’t much to do in the light of day. Not a single shadow to hide in, every corner of the kingdom touched by a ray of sunshine. People would see them. See him. And that just wouldn’t do.

Harry couldn’t be seen by anyone, no. They would ask too many questions, alert the guards, something would go wrong. He couldn’t put her in that kind of danger. So they agreed. Tonight, when the moon peeks over the trees in the meadow, they will flee.

They will find their freedom.

Y/n had never been one to stray too far from the beaten path. Her mother would never allow her to. Is your life really worth something as silly as this, child? She would gripe, fingers bruising the plushy flesh of her upper arm. One could say she was beaten into submission, although her mother never did much in the physical realm or harming her. It was always a look, a tug, and her words. God her words cut deeper than any knife ever could, she was sure of it.

But then she met Harry. By some magical happenstance, one day tending to the gardenia bushes in the garden furthest away from the castle, she stumbled upon the prince. He rested on a bench with a journal laid upon his lap, tears lightly raining down his flushed skin, a soft frown etched across his pink lips. She quietly sat down next to him, with no intention of saying anything, just letting him know he wasn’t alone in his pain. Whatever kind it may be.

She had known of him her whole life, having worked in the palace with her mother since she was just a child, but hadn’t seen him in what felt like an eternity. She remembers afternoons drenched in a golden haze, running around these very grounds with the likes of him and whatever children were amongst the castle, until she was ripped away by her mother just the same as she always was when she strayed too far from the sidewalk. Somewhere deep in her mind, Y/n knew why her mother acted the way she did. Kept her locked away like she had done her whole life.

It was to protect her. The King could be very cruel to anything and anyone that stepped too far out of line. Her mother was terrified that one day her daughter's wild imagination and wanderlust tendencies would get her into the wrong situation at the wrong time, with the wrong people. All she wanted was to protect her precious Y/n. This was the only way she knew how.

Harry, as angelic as he had been as a child, she recalls, slowly slid closer to her, remembering the days they would sneak away and play together until his keeper would come yelling for him. Any and all communication had been hastily cut off with her as soon as his keeper realized where he was and what he was doing. Thankfully for both of the children, it was never discovered who he was with. But nonetheless, Harry was kept under tight lock and key. His keeper would lose her head if the king found out that his son was galavanting around his castle with the help.

But on this day, in the garden amongst the Gardenias, their souls re-intertwined themselves as if they were still those young little kids, playing damsel in distress in the warm afternoon sunlight, as if they had lost no time at all. The only difference now being that they talked instead of played, kissed instead of screamed, and fell into a real love instead of one carelessly crafted from a children's game.

This went on for weeks, months it seemed. Meeting under the disguise of Y/n working in the farthest garden and Harry wandering off to a quiet corner for his studies. It was here, cushioned by soft grass under their bare bodies, that Y/n learned to live off the beaten path she had always known, in the midst of the forest green that was her lover's eyes.

“Petal, we can't stay here,” He sighed one summer afternoon. A mimicked sigh fell from his Love’s lips. She knew they couldn’t. This thought had plagued her mind, keeping her from sleep most nights. In their world, the prince doesn’t get to fall in love with the peasant girl and live happily ever after. A fairytale ending had never been an option on the table.

The only way they’d get to be happy was if they fled the only life they had ever known.

“I know, H. What are we to do though? Where do we go?” It was hard to imagine being anywhere but the castle grounds. But she knew that no matter where she went, as long as Harry was with her, she would be safe.

“We can find a clearing, far away from here, deep in the woods. Somewhere they won’t ever look, and I can build us a cottage, and we can have a garden just like this one. We won’t have to worry about doing the wrong thing in the King’s eyes, or saying the wrong words. We won’t have to hide ourselves.” He said, a dreamy glaze over his eyes.

“You’ll build us a cottage? How? We won’t have anything Harry!” The girl exclaimed. Sure, she knew they had to leave, that they couldn’t stay. But the reality that they truly had nowhere to go was setting in like a thick heavy fog, distracting her from anything else.

“M’love, look at this,” He whispered, taking her hand in his. His free hand came up in front of him, palm out, facing the grass below them. A flower sprouted right before their eyes, out of nowhere. Y/n gasped. Harry had never told anyone this secret. Nobody but his mother knew, and she had passed away three years prior during childbirth complications. Now the only person that knew of his secret was his Love.

It wasn’t a surprise that the Queen had never told the King of her affliction. He would have lost his head, and in turn- she would have lost hers. So she kept it from him, and when her only child began to show the signs that he too possessed such essence, she knew she had to protect him from the likes of his father. She never loved that man, she only ever wished for him to suddenly fall ill so as to free her and her son from his fury, but alas it has been her that faced such a fate.

Harry knew what he would face if anyone other than his Love were to know. It was why he hadn’t told her until now.

“This is how I’ll build our home. You’ll not want for anything, m’love. Whatever it is you desire, just tell me and I’ll make it so,” He had dreamed since he was a child to be able to spoil the girl sitting next to him. Y/n’s effervescent eyes grew wide. She felt a new warmth spread through her at this discovery, now she knew for a fact that as long as she had him, she was safe. For he had just proved to her that he was more than capable.

“Why have you never told me? Did you thinkI would judge you?” Panic grew in the girl's chest. How could her lover think she would ever judge him.

“No, no, no Pet, I didn’t tell you for your own safety! My father is a very cruel man and he would stop at nothing to have my head if he knew about this. I couldn’t bear to live if he went after you because of me so I kept to myself.” Her eyes softened at this and the warmth grew even stronger. She truly did love this boy, he was the only one who’d ever looked at her and seen a person. Not just a peasant girl or a daughter whose only job is to cook and clean and tend to the garden. Harry saw much more for his Love. He saw greatness for her, and he would stop at nothing to give her just that.

So now here they are, standing at the edge of the trees, moon over the meadow, ready to leave behind the only thing they’d ever known. Harry could feel his Love’s pulse racing, he knew she was scared. She had assured him many times that it was only because she was afraid of what lay ahead, not because she didn’t want to go. They both knew that Harry wouldn’t let anything happen to her.

The girl had left a letter to her mother on the pillow she used to rest her head upon. Part of her felt bad for leaving the woman behind, but she had no choice. Her mother wouldn't approve of this and she certainly wouldn’t come. She would scold her daughter for running away. Your problems don’t leave just because you do, child. You must face them or they will haunt you forever. Y/n felt she wasn’t running away from her problems though, because this was the only solution. There was no way to make the King accept their love. So they could either leave or dare to sit and watch what would become of their life. Harry would end up married off or dead, Y/n would, well- she’d be dead either way. She couldn’t breathe without Harry by her side.

In the shadow of the moonlight, Harry led them through the forest. The guards had been alerted that the prince was not in his chambers so they didn’t have much time. They needed to move fast. He went where his intuition led him, moving obstacles out of the way with a small flick of his hand as they went. In the distance, he could hear the cries of men searching for him and the loud cracks of whips used to keep their horses moving.

His Love hummed a tune to distract herself from the loud noises and fear she felt heavy in her chest, Harry’s hand clutched in hers so he didn’t lose her. It was dark but they never stumbled and they never felt danger get too close. Y/n assumed Harry had something to do with that. Every so often they would pause and rest, Y/n’s head laid upon his chest, his back against a tree. His heartbeat kept her own steady as she matched her breathing to his. He had always been able to calm her down by just being near her. His presence was all she needed to feel at peace.

Harry laid his lips on the top of her head, his hand lightly stroking her hair.

“What will we do in the morning light when people can see us?” They had been traveling most of the night now, but she didn’t quite know how far they had made it. She just knew they had lost the guards. Their breaks didn’t last more than 5-10 minutes so as not to waste time, but they were traveling by foot so they couldn’t have made it too terribly far.

“We’re quite close m’love, so I assume we will be arriving just as the sun is ascending. I’ll have you rest while I place a protection barrier around the perimeter of the clearing and then I’ll get started on the cottage so you won’t need to worry about a thing.” He said, dusting his thumb across her cheekbone.

“Will people be able to see our home from outside the clearing?” She was worried about wandering strangers stumbling upon them and causing trouble. Harry beamed at the girl before him.

“I’ll make it so that people can’t find us Petal. We will be safe, I promise you.” This put his Love at ease and they got up to return to their journey when there was a rustling noise next to them. Y/n froze and slowly turned to see a bush being disturbed and clung to Harry in fear that something was about to jump and attack them. To her surprise, it was a small cat.

“What are you doing out here all by yourself little one?” Y/n sunk to her knees as the animal walked over. Harry’s heart almost burst right out of his chest at the precious sight in front of him. His Love had always had a soft spot for animals. When they were little she used to pretend she could talk to them and understand what they were saying. He used to think maybe she really could because, hey- he could make things appear out of nowhere- but it turns out she was just a very imaginative little girl. He loved her nonetheless so he would happily take care of animal communication if need be.

But just because his Love couldn’t understand what the animals were saying doesn’t mean she didn’t love to talk to them.

The little cat, who was small enough to warrant calling her a kitten, nuzzled right up the Y/n. She practically had hearts for eyes when looking at the little furball. She was a beautiful black kitten with starry blue eyes that could be seen even in the darkness, as they reflected the light of the moon.

“You are just the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen,” she beamed, “Harry we can’t just leave her!” He knew this was coming. He also knew she’d always wanted a cat of her own but the King was allergic, so cat’s were not allowed on castle grounds. That man would have killed her and the cat.

Harry never was able to resist the puppy dog eyes his Love was so good at giving him. Not that she had to do much begging to get him to do anything. He would do whatever she wanted, because when she was happy so was he.

“What should we name her?” He asked and a smile as bright as the sun and stars combined spread across her face. He would do anything to see that smile everyday.

“We can think of names on the way! Come little one, we’re your family now!” Y/n scooped the kitten into her arms as a motor-like pur erupted from her little chest. The kitten rolled over in her arms and nuzzled against her chest, falling asleep immediately. It was like a match made in the stars.

They kept walking, Harry still waving away obstacles to keep his Love from stumbling, and eventually they arrived at a clearing, surrounded by trees at the base of a mountain with a small river flowing through and flowers blooming all around. It was a place Y/n could have only mustered up in a dream, and now she was going to live there. It was more than she could have ever wished for.

Harry led her to a soft spot in the grass and she laid down. He could tell she was about to fall asleep on her feet. As soon as she laid her head down, she was out like a light with the kitten snuggled up to her. Harry cast his hand, warming the ground to keep them comfortable and got to work casting the protection charm. He made it so that people wouldn’t be able to see them or penetrate the barrier, but animals could roam freely.

As he worked the morning sun began to peak over the trees. The whistles of the flowing river served as calming background noise and the singing birds aided the ethereal glow that was cast all around the meadow that Harry and his Love now called home. He could see them living a long beautiful life there. One free of judgment and fear.

Harry hoped to raise a family here. He wanted to raise children who knew what it was like to have their fathers unconditional love, to see what it was like for a father to love a mother, something he hadn’t been privy to growing up.

Y/n woke up to Harry whistling a tune as he went about gathering little things like flowers and twigs. A small flower had been tucked into her hair, on top of her ear, she couldn’t help but smile. As she sat up, she stretched her body, letting out little groans of relief that alerted Harry his Love had awoken.

He strolled over to her and sat down, pulling the girl into his lap. His heart swelled as she buried her face into his neck, running her hand across his chest.

With a kiss to the top of her head, he whispered, “Good morning my sweet girl.”

“Good morning my love,” She sleepily replied, voice still raspy. She still felt tired but not enough to stay asleep and the sun was now too bright for her to rest peacefully.

“I’ve finished the perimeter, I’m going to work on the cottage now. Is there a particular way you’d like it to look?” He asked, stroking her hair lightly. She hummed in contentness before giving him an answer.

“Whatever you create, I will love. As long as there is a roof over our heads to keep us safe from the rain, I will be happy!” He felt her smile against his neck. Running his fingertips along her back, he sighed in adoration of the sleepy girl in his arms. If he could spend every day like this, he would be just fine.

“Alright Petal, can you grab my hand please and focus on taking deep breaths for me.” He asked her, holding his palm out. She took it without question and cleared her head of all thoughts. Harry’s other hand dug lightly into the ground beside him. Y/n felt a small buzzing where she was connected with the boy, and she opened her eyes to see his were closed. A dim golden glow surrounded their hands, surprising her.

Harry had never cast any spells that used this much energy so he knew that he would need the help of his Love. Y/n figured it would be best if she closed her eyes again so she did and waited for Harry to let her know when he was finished. It didn’t take but a few minutes for him to stroke her hair and ask her to look up. When she did, she saw a beautiful cottage. Long vines of Ivy twisted up the beautiful white brick walls, A wrap around covered porch with flower boxes sat atop the railing, and a bay window where Y/n could picture herself reading on sunny afternoons just like this one. It was perfect.

“Harry,” She gasped. This was more than she could have ever imagined. She absolutely loved it.

“Is it ok?” He asked tentatively.

“Love, it’s more than ok! It’s amazing, it’s perfect. Thank you thank you thank you!!!” She cried, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face.

“I did good?” He smirked, rubbing her side before wrapping her tightly in his embrace.

“You did wonderful! I love it and I love you!” She gazed into his eyes before leaning up and pressing her lips to his in a kiss full of passion and gratitude.

Harry doesn’t think he could ever get tired of kissing his Love.

Outline:

Connor E. Arkeit (26yo) is a homicide detective for the Detroit Police, Central Precinct, in downtown Detroit. He has been working with the DPD for four years, experience outside of the academy of two years as an officer before receiving a promotion into the detective position in Homicide, where he has a further two years experience. Before joining the force Connor attended college at Michigan State where he had a double major in forensics & criminal psychology. He graduated summa cum laude along with his two brothers. Within the DPD Connor quickly made a name for himself, not only in regards to his appearance & magnetic, charming personality, but with his work performance. To date, his case record stands at seven assigned cases solved, thirteen cold cases solved; solving cold cases has become something of a hobby for himself & his brothers in their free time.

Skills:

Connor has expressed a certain skill level for making seemingly impossible connections through evidence that help solve his cases. The gift of imagination coupled with his extremely proficient sense of observation builds the underlining structure of in depth reconstructions of scenes & incidents, & he has the ability to run through those reconstructions within his minds eye. (Connor used to place himself into the point of view of the perpetrator in order to better understand them in a psychological profiling, but after the Zlatko case he no longer does.) In Connor’s imagination he is the unseen observer to the crime, watching it unfold either in pieces or as a collective in order to fully understand what happened. Note: Because of his observant capacity he is often able to predict events with a strong level of accuracy, aiding him in planning & execution of close quarters combat & defense.

Due to his mental condition, Connor is an extremely proficient tactician, using psychological & emotional manipulation both in his work as well as occasionally in civilian life. He has been known to leave those he is tasked with interrogating in a disturbed state of being in extreme cases, though more often than not his tactics are standard police interrogation techniques. He is a calm & collected negotiator who can bury emotional instability under pressure in order to accomplish his task. Connor has learned from many years of conscious practice to use his mental dysfunctions as a tool rather than a detriment, & while he can be incredibly empathetic & warm he also has the ability to shut his emotions off completely if it is necessary. He can lie without any indication save for the involuntary dilation of pupils, keeping his pulse steady & breath shallow.

His proficiency with weaponry & martial arts is impeccable, though he would claim he is still learning. His accuracy with firearms is upwards of 97% (conditions do apply) & he has proven a capable sniper. Close quarters combat is where he thrives & his dulled sense of pain helps mask the damage he might suffer. While not notably strong physically, Connor is very fast & agile, & he shows a talent for improvisation. He can be brutal if necessary. Around the office, the team gave him nicknames like ‘Bloodhound’ or ‘Plastic prick’ just to razz him, making him part of the group of older, more seasoned police officers. Criminals on the streets call him the Deviant Hunter.

Notable Case:

A hostage situation following a murder of John Phillips on Aug 15th, involving a housemaid turned hostile after discovering he was going to be dismissed in favor of a replacement. (Evidence suggested there may have been romantic involvement between the suspect & the victim.) The daughter, Emma, was taken hostage by the housemaid, Daniel, & threatened with her fathers handgun at the edge of the high-rise balcony. SWAT was called in but with Daniel being so close to the edge of the building it was decided that a negotiator should come in to handle the situation. Connor was called onto the scene, arriving at 08:29PM, where he took the time to profile the suspect before engaging in negotiations. Connor managed to lull Daniel into a sense of security enough to feel assured he would walk out of the situation unharmed, though in cuffs. He released Emma & was taken down by SWAT snipers.

It should be noted Connor was left with a thick scar on his shoulder from a gunshot where the deltoid muscle peaks. In a fit of confusion & panic Daniel fired a single shot at Connor, having initially believed he was Xander, Connor’s younger brother, who was at the scene with his SWAT team that evening.

Sidenote: It was the triplet’s birthday.

Zlatko Andronikov was a suspect in a large scale underground human trafficking ring in Detroit & was under investigation for multiple cases of murders in the area. A raid on his home in the historical district on Nov 6th uncovered a far deeper sinisterness to Zlatko than ever imagined. Beneath the mansion were cages where Zlatko kept some of his ‘experimental art’ - the ones who survived their transformations. People turned into mere flesh barely living, yet still breathing, tortured & disfigured beyond recognition as truly human. Most did not live beyond a few days after rescue, to which most believed was best. Zlatko was killed by a houseman he had manipulated into servitude & Connor was tasked with a profile on Zlatko in order to aid the court proceedings for Luther, in order to reduce his own sentencing for his employer’s death & for accessory charges.

This case broke Connor psychologically & he was forced to spend time on leave to recover from the traumatic experience of inserting himself into Zlatko Andronikov’s head on a psychological level.

Psychology:

Connor, like his brothers, has been diagnosed with moderate high functioning antisocial personality disorder. It is because of this condition he is able to act in ways & in situations people may find uncomfortable, callous or almost impossible. He carries out his objectives without compromise lest the involvement of his partner might somehow compromise the situation. He has been shot protecting his partner, Lt. Hank Anderson, & has killed to defend him in the line of duty. Connor finds difficulty in attaching any kind of emotions to those he has not become close with, & his outward demeanor is more superficial than completely genuine. He is friendly, sociable & very kind, but mostly out of necessity to make work & life easier. He shows concern for others not on his behalf, but on the behalf of those he does care for who might feel sincerely for another. He does not feel guilty for any cruel or damning actions performed in the line of duty, only feeling remorse if he manages to upset someone he feels genuinely for. He lies, is very manipulative & has a tendency to flirt with people, men & women, in order to obtain something he wants with relative ease. He may also flirt in response to another’s flirtations, amusing himself by playing with them a little before moving on.

On the other side of the spectrum, when he does manage to attach an emotional connection to someone he cares deeply, almost manically. His desire to protect & see those he loves well is near insatiable & he has been known to use those same manipulative tactics on people closest to him, though with sincere intentions for their wellbeing. He does not & will not attempt to isolate people from others, insert himself into situations for attention, or harm them in any way, especially psychologically. If he loves, it is completely. He will also never lie to a loved one on any important matter, or really any matter at all.

Though it is very well hidden most of the time, Connor has anxiety & depression, though his depressive moods are few & far between. His anxiety, however, is in constant contention with his numb state of being & only in rare cases will it ever come to light. Nervous fidgeting, such as with pocket change or stress-grooming, are commonplace, though he is not prone to panic unless someone he loves is in danger or his objective is dangerously close to failure.

Involvement:

Silent Hill - A fog loomed over him, not merely over his body but over his mind like a blanket, cool & soft, beckoning him into the darkness. Connor found himself in an unfamiliar place, in a state of utter deprivation, bewildered yet too fatigued to do anything about it. It was not a fatigue of the body, but of the mind which was so powerful it stole all strength from his body & he could not move himself. He didn’t know why this town stole him away, but he knew he would either become a sacrifice for God or repent for his past mistakes.

Resident Evil - Full outline HERE.

Hannibal/Silence of the Lambs - In pursuit of the Chesapeake Ripper, the team under Jack Crawford of the FBI grew needy for assistance as Crawford became further concerned that his specialized profiler, Will Graham, had been compromised psychologically & feared breaking him. Through his resources Crawford touched base with Detroit PD’s director of criminal psychology, Amanda Stern, who suggested her own protégé Connor Arkeit as a worthy successor. As such, Connor was assigned to work with FBI & transported temporarily to Quantico. There he was directed to work with Graham & learn what he could, ready to take over should there be a need for it. Instead he learned to completely harmonize with his partner, after realizing they both possess the same gifts of imagination & reconstruction. However, he realized Will could not turn off his empathy, & slowly Connor began to take on more & more in his role as profiler, both using Will for information & protecting him from further psychological trauma with mixed results.

Marvel 616/Netflix - Many months after the incident in New York when the world learned that extraordinary heroes walked among them & villainy came not only from the furthest reaches of the globe, but from beyond the stars. After the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen helped expose the corruption within the city & FBI filtered out the turncoats within the NYPD, New York was in dire need for replacements. The Arkeit siblings volunteered for a temporary transfer to help clean up the city & maintain order. Having grown up so close to the city limits of Detroit & fully immersing themselves into it’s culture, darkness & light, the trio believed they would be fit to handle the task. On a more personal note, the boys were highly intrigued by the tales of super heroes & vigilantes, & the exploits of organized crime within Hell’s Kitchen. Connor was intent on learning all that he could, against the warnings of his siblings that he might get in over his head.

Congrats on the follower milestone! Can you write a fic with Poe with Hozier’s ‘Take Me to Church’?

(UPDATED) 400 Follower Celebration

My heart rate literally went from 78 to 96 bpm when I saw this in my inbox because this song is THE GOOD KUSH. Thank you so much for sending this! I really hope you enjoy FO!Poe because apparently that’s what this song entails :)

You know you should shut the door in his face. You shouldn’t let his gorgeous, bloodshot brown eyes rake over your body like they do. You shouldn’t let his big, warm, calloused hands reach for you. You shouldn’t let his smooth, wet lips trail so delicately over your skin.

But you do. You let him worship you every time he feels like it—every time he needs to be worshipped.

His world is cold and unforgiving. He hurts and kills and destroys everyday, and he’s become numb to the fact that he hurts. Deep inside, he’s in pain—it’s a dull ache, and the only time it disappears is when he’s with you. He tries not to see you too often, because he’s scared that your sanctuary will fade away. Or, more realistically, that he’ll say or do something stupid, and you won’t let him in anymore.

He has ways of forcing you to be with him, and you know it. But he’d never do that to you. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, but for better or for worse, he did. He loves you, and it’s dangerous.

It’s been a month since you’ve seen him, and part of you figured he’d finally been captured. Maybe even killed for his war crimes.

But he’s very much alive, standing on your doorstep, hardly any different than the last time you’d seen him. His hair is a little bit shorter now—cropped on the sides and graying slightly at his temples—but his eyes and his tentative smile are still the same. You figure they always will be; in all the years he’s been periodically sneaking off base to see you, they’ve never changed.

“I missed you,” he mutters, voice a little gravelly. You almost offer him a glass of water, but you know he won’t accept it. It’s just a precaution, even though he knows you would never poison him. He knows you love him, too.

“Did you?” You ask, trying not to sound hopeful. Part of you constantly mulls over the fact that he might not be capable of real emotions. Part of you is still convinced that he only endeared you to himself because you’re the only person brave enough to fuck him.

“I did,” he tells you, certain. You believe him, even though you know it could be a lie. “I always do.”

You let yourself melt into his embrace because there’s no alternative—although there’s truthfully nothing else you’d rather do. Your lover is a murderer, but he’s still your lover. Maybe his world is cold and dark and cruel, but when he’s with you, he really does try to be warm. Even if only for a couple hours, he lets you take care of him and show him compassion.

And, in return, he shows you compassion.

And that leads to the only thing you’re sure of when it comes to your enigmatic Poe: you’re the only thing he’s ever cared about, even if his emotions are feigned. You’re the only one he’s even pretended to have affection for. 

And that’s why you continue to let him in. He’s your drug; your bad habit. But Poe isn’t a sore thumb when you chew the nail a little bit too short. Poe is the high that comes before the fall—he’s the satisfaction that comes with chewing the nail, even though you know it’ll hurt later.

And maker do you feel satisfied with him settled between your legs. His tongue is merciful—he doesn’t tease or edge or play. His movements are purposeful and gentle, firm licks to your soaked folds as his fingers waste no time working circles against your clit. He rejoices in your moans and gasps and whimpers because it’s confirmation that, for once, he’s doing something right. Instead of ignoring his good work and berating him for his missteps, you praise and praise and praise him again for his good work, and you forgive the missteps. Every time.

He has no trouble working an orgasm out of you, big hands firmly grasping your shaking thighs as he kisses you through it. He’s known how to tear you apart from the moment he first laid his eyes on you, and he’s never held back. He’s eager to please, and you’ve never wanted him any other way.

As always, you try to repay the favor. Your shaking hands reach for his hard length, and he gently pins your hands above your head. He trails his mouth down the column of your throat, smiling because he’s taking away your ability to be generous: one of the things he fell in love with first.

“Not now. I’m ready for you,” he tells you—you’ve heard these words before—and you vaguely wonder if he’ll ever not use that stupid excuse. Your need to touch him is overwhelming. You want to feel in your hand the veins and ridges that drive you insane every time you feel them in your cunt. But this is the only thing he’s ever denied you, and you don’t have the faintest clue why.

He’s just about to push into you when you wrap yourself around him and flip the both of you over, and he comes so close to panicking but your lips are suddenly trailing over his chest and maker it feels good. He’s never allowed you this position for the same reason he’s never allowed you to touch his cock—it makes him too vulnerable. He’s completely at your mercy now, something he was trained to never let happen.

And, in a sudden moment of clarity that almost feels out of place, he realizes that this is the only way he ever should’ve been allowed to have you. 

You’ve always been the exact antithesis of his training. You’re impulsive and caring and soft, and he’s not supposed to have exposure to any of those things. He’s always fucked you the only way he knows how because it coordinates with his indoctrination to maintain control, and it’s high time he let it go for you.

“If this isn’t okay, you’ll tell me?” Your question is sweet, concerned. There’s no doubt that you saw the momentary flicker of panic in his eyes, and even though it’s gone you’re scared that you’ve crossed a boundary.

He doesn’t answer, and usually that’s a sign of consent with him. This situation is different, though. You’ve never been in a position to do anything to him. You need confirmation that you won’t lose him over this. You can’t stand it when he shows up on your doorstep, but the thought of never seeing him again is unbearable.

“I won’t touch you unless you want me to.” You kiss just below his navel, and he grunts.

It isn’t very often that he’s given choices. He’s used to being told exactly how things are and how they’re going to be. But, yet again, you’re proving yourself to be the exact opposite of the First Order. You’re allowing him to protest—to speak up against the situation. And, even odder still, he finds that he doesn’t want to. He wants your mouth to continue its path south until he’s completely at your mercy.

“Please.” It’s the first time he’s ever asked for anything that isn’t your permission, and it sends a shock straight to your core.

You’re smiling as you wrap your mouth around him, tongue tracing his head and it’s as sweet as such a filthy act can be. Fuck. He loves your pussy, but your mouth is intoxicating. 

His training dictates that he must hide his reactions to changing circumstances, so he throws his head back against your plush pillows and lets out the most beautiful moan you’ve heard in your life.

He’s breathless, already so close to falling apart due to this new sensation. “I’m not gonna last,” he chokes out, and you smile as your hand wraps firmly around the base of his cock.

“That’s okay,” you reassure him, licking away the pool of precum on his tip before taking him all the way into your throat. He groans this time, and these noises of his are unfamiliar to you but they’re so fucking hot. You could build a religion for them. You want to.

You work him sloppily and fast, and the obscene noises of his cock hitting the back of your throat are too much for him. He comes hard—harder than he ever has before—and for a moment the feeling of you swallowing down his seed makes him think he might come again.

You’re his sanctuary. He worships you when he feels alone, because you’re a good person and you’ve earned it, but also because he’s desperate to feel alive. But he’s never felt more alive than when he finally let go and let you worship him.

Song Fic Masterlist

About all my F-Zero FCs so far, and their lore

Normally I don’t usually have the time or energy to create several FC bios, but… I think this once, I’m going to reveal history about all of them?? (Except for Jill because @huskynator​ did a better job than I ever could! ;; )

Warning, very long bios and connections to canon characters!

Chief Ann

Because of her position at the Galactic Space Federation, she oversees everything that Jody, John Tanaka, ands Lily Flyer do. She frequently has to scold them also if they do something that could harm the Federation’s reputation.

As expected of an alien creature, she’s actually really old, her age is listed to be over 200 years! To that extent, it means that Ann has witnessed the horrible F-MAX accident, which put a start to her wanting to ban all Grand Prix races, as she deemed them too dangerous. It may also be connected to the destruction of her home planet; Dinea.

She did manage to successfully suspend the F-Zero Grand Prix following another terrible accident (which led to Captain Falcon being hospitalized and Pico taking the blame), but the Arrows managed to rectify it. Since then, Ann has had a grudge against them.

When Jody Summer’s father died, Ann pretty much took the pilot under her wing, so they are particularly close. Unlike John Tanaka though, Ann is overly protective to the point of annoyance. Doesn’t mean that Ann won’t take a bullet for her team, she’s willingly gotten herself harmed for innocents.

In spite of this, Ann’s reputation is very negative. Her and Pico have a natural spite for one another given their alien species (leeches vs. snapping turtles) and occupations. Samurai Goroh’s bandit group also has a strong distaste for her, as do residents of Takora due to an incident that occurred.

The Skull also doesn’t agree with her since he (un)lives for racing, Kate Alen, Princia, and Spade also find Ann to be a “killjoy”. Her and Captain Falcon though... they agree to disagree, so to speak. Ann recognizes Douglas as a former officer of the Internova Police Force and actually hopes he’ll return.

Although she comes off as harsh and cruel to criminals, Ann ultimately has some soft spots. Because she is the last of her known species and has a rather negative rep, Ann gets extremely flustered about… intimate matters. She’s used to being disliked.

Ann’s favorite drink is A+ blood and wine, while her favorite snacks are ice cream and jelly-filled donuts. Did we mention she’s extremely tall and can probably grow her body parts back?

Kevi

A knight from the planet Popopo, sometimes known as “the twinkling planet”. It’s notably very cold there, which is why he has such cozy-looking attire, gifted to him by the king of the land he originated from. Just about everyone there upbeat and friendly.

About less than a year ago, Kevi had triumphed in the war against a cult on his planet, so he decided to take up F-Zero racing until duty calls for him. Kevi had raced in the past, but it wasn’t on the scale of a Grand Prix, it often played out more like training for warfare.

Kevi is actually a transman, and plans to use the space credits in prize money to complete his “heroic appearance”. He had always wanted to be a knight and went through with changing everything about himself to achieve that dream. 

He loves the idea of being a powerful, macho hero and often flexes this in front of other racers. Not in an attempt to seem cocky, but because he loves competing with his heroes! He’s a fan of just about all of the racers, and I do mean all of them! Because Kevi is so friendly and genuine, even the more cold characters find themselves opening up to him rather easily. 

The normally cold and calculated Pico finds himself at ease around the knight, while even Black Shadow himself is humored by Kevi. The only one who detests Kevi and doesn’t hesitate to knock him down is Deathborn, of course. He hates Kevi even more for actively taking up Black Shadow’s time and hanging out with him, leading to the chance of Black Shadow’s fearsome reputation diminishing… or even worse, a relationship.

Kevi doesn’t even care about the whole crime thing, because he views these as small potatoes compared to a cult that straight up wants to destroy everything. Captain Falcon was worried at first, until the knight said he’s dealt with things far worse than the criminals of F-Zero.

Now, if push comes to shove, Kevi will most definitely drop his friendly personality and show that he’s a strong warrior. Not too bad for an F-Zero fan-boy with pink hair. He’s probably capable of taking someone down in arm wrestling despite how petite he is.

Kevi loves energy drinks, and his favorite food is usually anything with tomatoes! He’s very fit and never takes a break from exercising his body to become stronger. However, under that visor, Kevi does have a particularly adorable gaze, it’s said his eyes are like looking at stars.

Lanos

A sarcastic destroyer of worlds, times, and universes. He’s a silver-tongued entity, able to manipulate others to act out their innermost desires. Lanos is ageless, his origins unknown, just traversing to wherever he pleases. Where exactly is he hiding? And in what time period?

Probably the distant future, which is why he’s considered Phoenix’s #1 enemy. The time traveling detective has gone after him nonstop, but is often unable to pinpoint Lanos’ exact position. In fact, more often than not, Lanos manages to get away from Phoenix, whether a horrible crisis is averted or not.

He definitely has some connections to Don Genie. In another part of the future, Lanos apparently runs a night club (he always running away yet manages to keep a club!?), so they probably had some sort of deal. After all, Lanos gives people whatever they want, usually without strings attached.

Why does Lanos go around causing problems? It just happens usually whenever he goes anywhere, doesn’t even raise his hand. He often just lands on any planet in the form of a green jewel. People who cave into lust, wrath, or greed will often actively seek Lanos. Any downfall of the worlds is their fault and not his, something he constantly points out to Phoenix. “Why should it be the bomb’s fault when someone pushed the button?”

In terms of documented incidents, Lanos participated in F-MAX accident that burned several racers alive (including the Skull), the F-Zero race that got Captain Falcon hospitalized (with the blame pinned on Pico), and the destruction of Ann’s home planet. The war on Zou is most likely also started by Lanos.

Lanos most definitely has his own personal enjoyments, usually in the form of racing or any thrill-seeking activity. No one can really stop it, because if Lanos feels threatened, anyone who gets close will pretty much get their skin melted off.

Because of his history, not only does Phoenix intend to destroy him-- but so does Captain Falcon, Pico, Ann, Jody Summer, even Leon. Should they have any particular desire though, you bet that Lanos will try to wring them out.

Lanos speaks with a stoic, deep tone. To someone like Mr. Zero (who has to unfortunately interview him at times), it’s frightening, but when Lanos sweetens his words, it turns charismatic.

Cierlok (Princia’s servant)

(Credit to Huskynator for the name, which I slightly altered it to sound more exotic ;;)

Princia Ramode’s servant hails from the desert kingdom on Planet Magica. He is extremely protective of the princess, having known her since she was just a toddler, and will fly into a fit of rage if anyone tries to lay a hand on her. Don’t expect mercy either, since he’s a user of magic.

Since it’s impossible to reason with Princia’s stubborn personality, Cierlok is responsible for having an F-Zero machine made for the princess, and it was him she snuck off with. Unlike her, however, Cierlok has a very low opinion of the other F-Zero racers, especially Samurai Goroh and anyone associated, viewing them as lowly bandits. His opinion of bounty hunters isn’t much better.

But whenever Cierlok is confronted by someone physically stronger than himself, he’ll quickly chicken out, usually by running away or stammering. This same personality is usually witnessed when Princia is dragging him into something dangerous or risky.

Cierlok was actually a fortune teller in the desert kingdom, once a mere peasant himself. This all changed when Princia’s father needed a court magician and a bodyguard for his daughter. Evidently, the position has gone to his head over the years. Cierlok still does tarot card readings and all that other stuff though. Lower class individuals in Magica do not have a last name, while royalty does.

He had absolutely no interest in joining the F-Zero races so long as Princia remained unharmed. This changed when another magician began participating, Cierlok wished to prove that planet Magica has the best sorcerers in the universe-- mainly himself.

Since entering, he’s formed quite the rivalry with Spade and the Skull. Black magic and circus performances? “No, the pure magic of my planet is the greatest to exist!” Cierlok truly believes that his sorcery and fortune telling is above all of those.

Before planet Popopo went to war, they allied themselves with Magica. During that time, before Kevi had transitioned, he had gotten into a relationship with Cierlok. It didn’t last though, mainly because Cierlok was too much of a coward and wasn’t exactly strong, not to mention his ego got too grating. (He hasn’t even taken the message that he’s been dumped)

Cierlok’s favorite drink is champagne, and he loves calamari. He’s considered trying takoyaki but didn’t want to incur the wrath of Octoman. Probably for the best that he doesn’t try to make anymore enemies.

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                                  Willis Oh, who is known by no other name;                                                 a 24 year old son of Xi-Wangmu.                                         He is an orthopedist at Asclepius General                                            and a professor at Phoenix University.

FC NAME/GROUP: Oh Sehun / EXO CHARACTER NAME: Willis Oh AGE/DATE OF BIRTH:  12/04/1994 PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea OCCUPATION: Orthopedist at Asclepius General, Professor of Herbology at Phoenix University HEIGHT: 183 cm DEFINING FEATURES:

Lithe body, broad shoulders, thick eyebrows, straight nose

A mole on the right side of his neck, and a small scar 5cm under his left eye

PERSONALITY: Proud, confident, captivating, yet glacial and unapproachable are what bystanders would say about Willis Oh. He was born not to be part of the crowd, and he is willing to do everything needed for people to keep that in mind. Self-assurance, vitality, compelling charm, and extraordinary intuition are bestowed upon the young man, and as time elapsed, he grew up with a subtle but inflexible pride and integrity.

Honor and truth are his Gods, and falsehood is always at the top of his aversions list. However, usually, he chooses to treat people who failed him with a reasonably tolerant attitude. To attain his goals, Willis would do anything but take shortcuts or any sort of dirty, underhanded ways. Once he decides to pursue something, there are no forces in the world that can stop him from getting to the end.

Having a desire to run his own life peacefully, the demigod is definitely not fond of dramas, but if forced, he will have no trouble to be the most formidable opponent they could ask for. Thanks to his sensitivity towards social interactions, more often than not, he would succeed in getting what he wants without tapping in his dark side.

The demigod also possesses traits of a latent, unpredictable rebel in his genes. With such a strong individuality playing his theme, Willis abhors to be maltreated or ordered around. When his endurance hit its limit, he will explode, just so the devils can go back to where they belong and never come back. Sometimes, the reasonable counterattack might sweep into a stormy vengeance, especially when emotional damages are involved. Hell hath no fury, they said.

For some people, he may appear as distant or domineering. Those are not at fault, for Willis has purposely put up the mask, just to keep his fragile inside safe from any potential damage. The cheerful, tender and truly warm-hearted side of his only show itself to a few, who are patient enough to get underneath the cool cover in the right way. His love and respect are so rare to be found, not because he is lacking in them, but due to his innate suspicion about the world in general. Yet, once one wins his trust and fondness, it is sure to say that they have got themselves the most loyal and dedicated companion with a lifetime guarantee.

HISTORY: There would be nothing much to say about the young Willis Oh, if his notoriety was crossed out of the story. Everyone who learnt about him, included his dear father, never ever had the capability to explain why such a young boy could be able to make enough mess for about 100 of them.

Maybe his biological mother could have stated the reason, if she had not been in that hurry to take her leave of this crowded, full of cruelness world. Someone said his mother passed away right after giving birth to him, but there was no evidence, so Willis had never stopped questioning. But whatever the truth was, perhaps the blame for his seemingly innate misbehavior was not on Mrs. Oh’s absence on her son’s timeline. It couldn’t be pour on the head of ‘Sir’ Oh - the almighty, un-blameable chairman, whose empire was too complicated and dangerous for his only offspring to be a part of. Also, there was no way for his ‘angelic’ step-mother to be accused of, even though her rudeness and indifference towards little Willis was visible even for the blind.

Thanks for her million-dollar cunning, his father hadn’t got a single clue about her maltreatment of Wilis until years later. And because all of the relatives were innocent as well, there was only one person left to shoulder all those guilt: the little Willis himself.

Luckily, being a free spirit he was, there were no evils or adversities that could bring him to his knees. With an as radiant as sunbeams smile and zero percentage of opposition, he took the responsibility for playing the most obnoxious and troublesome brat this universe could expect to have. He did it well, too well, that he was no longer be able to step off the stage. All eyes were on him whenever he was successful in causing a new trouble, and only at that time did he receive the attention he was craving for. The more problems he caused, the more attention he got. Because there was no one and nothing around could make him stop, Willis happily enjoyed his glorious time in boisterous peace.

As time went by, together with his ill-naturedness, little Willis hurriedly grew up with an ambitious, restless attempt to carry out his mission in life: Turning the whole world upside down, and inside out.

It is not exaggerated to say that his ‘acting’ career as a well-known spoiled brat had reached the peak when his age moved into its adolescent phase. Psychologists and expensive treatments were nothing but a chain of failures, and if they had helped with anything, it would have had something to do with igniting his resentment towards life even more, and eventually making those last pieces of his sanity flare up like wildfire. By the age of 17, he had been the VIP of almost all the famous bars and clubs in town, tasted all of finest types of wine, taken part in most of the physical fights with his fellows, and slept with almost all types of people. He also tasted blood around that time, and found his temporary escape in car racing, though it did not last long, just like his interest in everything else.

After getting enough of messing the whole neighborhood, his father’s house and also his own life up, Willis pointed his gun at a much more interesting target - other people’s life and hearts - and took many shots. He did not notch up his ‘trophies’, because they were countless. Yet, no matter how many of them he got, it was still not enough to change the fact that he was bisexual, while his father was a prideful homophobe. Day by day, the die-hard family feud between father and son was brought up with the suffocating silence in their house, and Willis couldn’t care less about that.  

Yet again, everything has an end, so does Willis’ rebellion and dissoluteness. After a wild party night, Willis found himself waking up in the ER with a broken leg, thick bandages wrapped around his head and torso, countless bruises and cuts littering his skin, and an oxygen mask stuck on his face. A doctor informed him that he was damn lucky to remain alive, for the accident wasn’t mild, as both a lamppost and his car were very much beyond repair. If it weren’t for a mysterious woman who called the hospital just on time, he might have been left dying alone on that deserted highway. What even more miraculous was that his father showed up right after the doctor had left. Of course, the chairman chewed his son out after feeding him disgusting porridge, and repeating the cycle until Willis was allowed to go home.

After the incident, his superficial brain finally received a worthwhile slap at the face from reality. He was still craving for love and attention, but not in such a cruel and hurtful way anymore. With an incredible amount of efforts and determination, Willis recovered his long-lost sanity, then managed to score incredibly high in the national university entrance exam. According to plan, Willis would go study in the USA right after his graduation. Yet, he fiercely rejected the idea, and won himself a seat in a prestige university right in Seoul. Despite his father’s disapproval, Willis chose Medicine. He wanted to become a doctor, simply because without those talented doctors, he couldn’t survive.

Willis was a late-bloomer, as he discovered his superpowers only at his last year of university, after waking up from a dream. He saw the goddess Xi-wangmu, who told him that he was born with a special gift, and that he shouldn’t leave it to waste. She guided him how to cure people’s injuries and grow plants with his bare hands, also showed him the healing magic of herbs, and informed him that there was an island, name Mount Phoenix, where he could meet people like him.

“Demigod? Me?!” He asked incredulously, and Willis still remembered how lovingly Xi-wangmu smiled at him as she confirmed with a slight nod, before the alarm clock yanked him back to reality.

With his outstanding performance, Willis was invited to work at the university’s hospital, but it only lasted for about a year, then the desire to leave the city finally dominated him. No matter what had been done, the relationship between him and his father couldn’t go any further than speaking term, and the curiosity about the magical island urged him to pack his bags and go. After a year settling down on Mount Phoenix, Willis acknowledged that beside studying Medicine, moving to the island was the best decision he had made so far.

PANTHEON:  Chinese CHILD OF: Xi-Wangmu POWERS:

Healing: Able to heal minor wounds and infections with his touches.

Plan Enhancement: Able to augment and grow plants, enhance the plants’ qualities, also bring small plants back to life within a limited period of time.

Enhanced Health: Possess a better physical, mental, emotional, and sexual health than the majority of demigods. He has higher resistance towards sickness, but by no means be immune to any sort of diseases or poisons.  

STRENGTHS:

He’s a capable healer and caregiver for anyone who’s in need.

He has a green thumb and a golden heart.

He’s a walking lie detector

He’s a ride or die, extremely loyal and protective towards the people and things that he holds close to his heart

WEAKNESSES:

Despite being soft-spoken and polite most of the time, he can snap, and he can snap hard

Sharp-tongued and sarcastic, he could kill with his words, sometimes unintentionally

Diamonds can’t hold a candle to the hardness of his head a.k.a. it’s nearly impossible to convince him once he sets his mind on something

He’s almost always stressed, and has problem managing his anger at times

A natural skeptic, so it will take a lot before he can truly trust and open up to someone

A very, very long muse info meme thing

Tagged by: No one!

Tagging: @twiicetheheart @boltxnbastard @ancientandforevcr @safetydoesntexist @YOU! Do this and say I tagged you!

( all of these answers are based off of my twd verse )

BODY AND APPEARANCE

1. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S HEIGHT AND BUILD. IS HE HEAVYSET, THIN, SHORT, RANGY? —-Negan is 6′1″ / has a pretty average build and is thin/slender. 2. HOW OLD IS HE? —-48. 3. DESCRIBE HIS POSTURE. DOES HE CARRY HIMSELF WELL OR DOES HE SLOUCH? —-Carries himself strongly and with squared shoulders. 4. HOW IS HIS HEALTH? IS HE FIT OR OUT OF SHAPE? ANY ILLNESSES OR CONDITIONS? ANY PHYSICAL DISABILITIES? —-Other than issues with not being fertile, Negan is in top physical health with no physical disabilities. He is quite physically fit as well. 5. HOW DOES HE MOVE? IS HE CLUMSY, GRACEFUL, TENSE, FLUID? —-Moves with an air of confidence and certainty, a cocky swagger with a walk that tells everyone around him that he owns every bit of ground he walks on. Very “alpha male”. 6. HOW ATTRACTIVE IS THIS CHARACTER PHYSICALLY? HOW DOES HE PERCEIVE HIMSELF IN THE MIRROR? —-VERY physically attractive and he knows this fact well.

7. DESCRIBE HIS COMPLEXION. DARK, LIGHT, CLEAR, SCARRED? —-Light and fair complexion. 8. DESCRIBE HIS HAIR: COLOR, TEXTURE, STYLE. —-Black with flecks of greying at the scalp; his beard is more salt than pepper at this point. 9. WHAT COLOR ARE HIS EYES? —-A dark and intense hazel. 10. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY OTHER NOTEWORTHY FEATURES? —-Negan has a scar on the right side of his face, between his temple and his cheek. Also has a few tattoos on his arms. 11. WHAT ARE HIS CHIEF TENSION CENTERS? —-In his hands and shoulders. 12. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S WARDROBE LIKE? CASUAL, DRESSY, UTILITARIAN? BRIGHT COLORS, PASTELS, NEUTRALS? IS IT VARIED, OR DOES HE HAVE SIX OF THE SAME SUIT? —-Leather boots; always some form of darker jeans with a plain t-shirt; t-shirt is usually a lighter color but he does wear greys and even blacks from time to time. Over top of it, his well known and weathered leather jacket. Rarely, if ever, deviates from this style. 13. DO HIS CLOTHES FIT WELL? DOES HE SEEM COMFORTABLE IN THEM? —-His clothes fit well enough, though not entirely form fitting; a little loose without losing his shape in them. 14. DOES HE DRESS THE SAME ON THE JOB AS HE DOES IN HIS FREE TIME? IF NOT, WHAT ARE THE DIFFERENCES? —-Incredibly rare to ever see him without his leather jacket, but can be known to go without his jacket for short bits of time. 15. YOU KNEW IT WAS COMING: BOXERS, BRIEFS OR COMMANDO? —-Boxer shorts.

SPEECH

1. WHAT DOES THIS CHARACTER’S VOICE SOUND LIKE? HIGH-PITCHED, DEEP, HOARSE? —-Deep and bassy and hoarse. 2. HOW DOES HE NORMALLY SPEAK? LOUD, SOFT, FAST, EVENLY? DOES HE TALK EASILY, OR DOES HE HESITATE? —-Depends upon who he’s addressing, but usually he takes his time speaking and speaks through a hoarse and quiet tone. Words come to Negan very easily and he never hesitates or stutters on anything he says. 3. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE A DISTINCT ACCENT OR DIALECT? ANY INDIVIDUAL QUIRKS OF PRONUNCIATION? ANY, LIKE, YOU KNOW, VERBAL TICS? —-Negan’s accent is vaguely southern and he doesn’t tend to have any kind of verbal tiks or quirks (other than cursing a lot). 4. WHAT LANGUAGE/S DOES HE SPEAK, AND WITH HOW MUCH FLUENCY? —-Really only knows English but has probably picked up a little on Spanish from school, but nothing substantial in the least. 5. DOES HE SWITCH LANGUAGES OR DIALECTS IN CERTAIN SITUATIONS? —-Nope, sticks to what he knows. 6. IS HE A GOOD IMPROMPTU SPEAKER, OR DOES HE HAVE TO THINK ABOUT HIS WORDS? —-VERY good at being well spoken on the spot and seems to always know exactly the thing to say in any situation right away. 7. IS HE ELOQUENT OR INARTICULATE? UNDER WHAT CIRCUMSTANCES MIGHT THIS CHANGE? —-He’s eloquent in his own vile sort of cursing way. Even in dangerous, life threatening situations, he retains his eloquent and well spoken nature.

MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL

1. HOW INTELLIGENT IS THIS CHARACTER? IS HE BOOK-SMART OR STREET-SMART? —-Negan is blessed to have both book and street smarts. Both are exactly what brought him to being a strong leader and keeps him on top. 2. DOES HE THINK ON HIS FEET, OR DOES HE NEED TIME TO DELIBERATE? —-Is very capable of doing both, but he tends to succeed more when he has time to deliberate and form a plan that he can enact in a coordinated way. 3. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S THOUGHT PROCESS. IS HE MORE LOGICAL, OR MORE INTUITIVE? IDEALISTIC OR PRACTICAL? —-Negan meets all these criteria as it largely depends upon the situation. He’s a very adaptable thinker, taking in all the angles he sees for consideration and going from there. However, he tends to go for a more practical approach with a mix of logic and intuition (though it is HIS logic and intuition he relies on, which can be seen as backwards and cruel). 4. WHAT KIND OF EDUCATION HAS THE CHARACTER HAD? —-A bachelors degree in physical education. 5. WHAT ARE HIS AREAS OF EXPERTISE? WHAT, IF ANYTHING, IS HE INTERESTED IN LEARNING MORE ABOUT? —-Due to his extensive schooling in physical education, he knows how to train bodies to be physically fit, knows the endurance of the human body, and everything in between. He also thinks certain scientific things are pretty interesting, though doesn’t have the time nor enough interest to pursue learning more about these things. 6. IS HE AN INTROVERT OR AN EXTROVERT? —-Very, VERY big extrovert. 7. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S TEMPERAMENT. IS HE EVEN-TEMPERED OR DOES HE HAVE MOOD SWINGS? CHEERFUL OR MELANCHOLY? LAID-BACK OR DRIVEN? —-Generally, Negan tends to be even-tempered, having a level head that keeps him calm. However, he can be prone to certain outbursts of anger when he’s pushed too far and can act out verbally and physically. Even through these bursts of anger, he’s able to pull himself back and reassert his collected demeanor. Most times his anger is quiet and holds a sense of forebode. 8. HOW DOES HE RESPOND TO NEW PEOPLE OR SITUATIONS? IS HE SUSPICIOUS, RELAXED, TIMID, ENTHUSIASTIC? —-When it comes to new people and new things, he’s pretty eager to jump at the chance to learn about the place/people/thing. He also appears wholly comfortable in any new situation. 9. IS HE MORE LIKELY TO ACT, OR TO REACT? —-Definitely act but that won’t stop him from reacting (and quite boldly at that). 10. WHICH IS HIS DEFAULT: FIGHT OR FLIGHT? —-Fight but if there is an option to run away from a situation that looks grim, he will absolutely do so to save his own hide. 11. DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER’S SENSE OF HUMOR. DOES HE APPRECIATE JOKES? PUNS? GALLOWS HUMOR? BATHROOM HUMOR? PRANKS? —-Negan loves, loves, LOVES making terrible jokes, usually at the expense of others. In fact, he finds they’re better if they are at the expense of others, if only to get them to lighten up or to even unnerve them with his sense of humor. Which his humor tends to be grim and poking at harsh truths around him.  12. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY DIAGNOSABLE MENTAL DISORDERS? IF YES, HOW DOES HE DEAL WITH THEM? —-Negan has a lot of behaviors of having an antisocial personality disorder and comes close to checking off a lot of symptoms of being psychopathic, but not completely for both. Clearly has some repressed emotions and unaddressed grief regarding his late wife Lucille, whom he couldn’t put down and holds a lot of guilt over. From that, he probably still has some lingering PTSD and is projecting some of that onto his bat, Lucille, by having the weapon somehow fill that void of his wife. 13. WHAT MOMENTS IN THIS CHARACTER’S LIFE HAVE DEFINED HIM AS A PERSON? —-Losing his parents, being diagnosed as infertile, losing his wife Lucille to cancer, and rising through the ranks to become the leader of the Saviors. 14. WHAT DOES HE FEAR? —-Loneliness. Being completely and utterly alone with no one. 15. WHAT ARE HIS HOPES OR ASPIRATIONS? —-To lead his people into a prosperous future where he’ll continue to lead them, protecting and providing for his people, and aspiring to rebuild civilization with his own set of rules and ideals. 16. WHAT IS SOMETHING HE DOESN’T WANT ANYONE TO FIND OUT ABOUT HIM? —-That he does fear being entirely alone and that he worries about losing control. Also that, without his bat Lucille, he feels incomplete.

RELATIONSHIPS

1. DESCRIBE THIS CHARACTER’S RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS PARENTS. —-His relationship with his mother was a good and loving one, whereas his father was slightly abusive and neglectful. Both are deceased, however. 2. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? WHAT IS/WAS THEIR RELATIONSHIP LIKE? —-No siblings, he was an only child. 3. ARE THERE OTHER BLOOD RELATIVES TO WHOM HE IS CLOSE? ARE THERE ONES HE CAN’T STAND? —-None that he was close to as he grew up with a slightly estranged uncle after his parents died. 4. ARE THERE OTHER, UNRELATED PEOPLE WHOM HE CONSIDERS PART OF HIS FAMILY? WHAT ARE HIS RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEM? —-None at this point. 5. WHO IS/WAS THE CHARACTER’S BEST FRIEND? HOW DID THEY MEET? —-His best friend was Lucille, growing incredibly close to her even before they married. However, nowadays, he doesn’t consider anyone a true best friend. Those around him he trusts he simply sees as those working for him, though he would tease them about being his best friend in jest. 7. DOES HE MAKE FRIENDS EASILY, OR DOES HE HAVE TROUBLE GETTING ALONG WITH PEOPLE? —-He can be a very agreeable man with people, really preferring things to be fair, though his habit of making sure others know he’s on top can bring tension into the equation. 8. WHICH DOES HE CONSIDER MORE IMPORTANT: FAMILY OR FRIENDS? —-Neither, really, as he doesn’t exactly see himself as truly having either. 9. IS THE CHARACTER SINGLE, MARRIED, DIVORCED, WIDOWED? HAS HE BEEN MARRIED MORE THAN ONCE? —-Legitimately widowed and only truly married once. Currently has about 7 “wives”. 10. IS HE CURRENTLY IN A ROMANTIC RELATIONSHIP WITH SOMEONE OTHER THAN A SPOUSE? —-The relationship with his “wives” tends to be more physical than romantic and he hasn’t been romantic with anyone since he lost his wife, Lucille. 11. WHO WAS HIS FIRST CRUSH? WHO IS HIS LATEST? —-His first crush was on a classmate when he was in elementary school. His latest is @twiicetheheart (though it’s more of an infatuation than a crush). 12. WHAT DOES HE LOOK FOR IN A ROMANTIC PARTNER? —-It would take a lot of trust and understanding and moving past all the layers he’s emotionally built up around himself to get to the point he’d be looking for any kind of romantic partner. He has a lot of baggage and uncertainty when it comes to opening himself up like that. 13. DOES THE CHARACTER HAVE CHILDREN? GRANDCHILDREN? IF YES, HOW DOES HE RELATE TO THEM? IF NO, DOES HE WANT ANY? —-He’s wanted children for as long as he can remember but the news of his infertility began to drive him away from Lucille and drove a rift between their marriage. Because of his infertility, he has no children though he wishes he had them. 14. DOES HE HAVE ANY RIVALS OR ENEMIES? —-Oh yes. Yes he does. 15. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION? WHERE DOES HE FALL ON THE KINSEY SCALE? —-Negan considers himself bisexual with a heavy preference for women. On the Kinsey Scale, he falls under “heterosexual, more than incidental homosexual tendencies. 16. HOW DOES HE FEEL ABOUT SEX? HOW IMPORTANT IS IT TO HIM? —-He really, really enjoys sex and finds it a good release for his tensions but is only into it if his partner wants it as well. 17. WHAT ARE HIS TURN-ONS? TURN-OFFS? WEIRD BEDROOM HABITS? —-He loves being in control in the bedroom, though he can find when a partner is a little more controlling/feisty, that gets him going as well. Hates the feeling of condoms so very rarely, if ever, uses them.

BELIEFS

1. DO YOU KNOW YOUR CHARACTER’S ASTROLOGICAL (ZODIAC OF CHOICE) SIGN? HOW WELL DOES HE FIT TYPE? —-Negan is an Aries and fits the type very well. 2. IS THIS CHARACTER RELIGIOUS, SPIRITUAL, BOTH, OR NEITHER? HOW IMPORTANT ARE THESE ELEMENTS IN HIS LIFE? —-He was vaguely raised Christian, but finds that he’s more an atheist. He believes more in the material world than anything else. 3. DOES THIS CHARACTER HAVE A PERSONAL CODE OF MORALS OR ETHICS? IF SO, HOW DID THAT BEGIN? WHAT WOULD IT TAKE TO COMPROMISE IT? —-Negan believes that the strong should lead and always look after and protect those weaker than them, though some of his behaviors are contradictory to this ideal he holds. He is also vehemently against rape, believing it to be a very savage act and warranting immediate death. He’s always held these beliefs, even before the world began to fall, but those beliefs came out much stronger than before once societal rules were no longer in place. 4. HOW DOES HE REGARD BELIEFS THAT DIFFER FROM HIS? IS HE TOLERANT, INTOLERANT, CURIOUS, INDIFFERENT? —-There’s a strange sort of curiosity in those that have different beliefs than him, almost like he tries to understand why they believe the way they do, but when it comes down to his hard and clear cut rules, he is wholly intolerant of them. For example, if someone follows a specific religion, he’s surprisingly tolerant and genuinely curious. But if someone believes blatant and senseless murder is fine, he is entirely and vehemently intolerant. 5. WHAT PREJUDICES DOES HE HOLD? ARE THEY IRRATIONAL OR DOES HE HAVE A GOOD REASON FOR THEM? —-Only prejudices he holds are those against people who have wrong him in ways he perceives to be wrong.

DAILY LIFE

1. WHAT IS THE CHARACTER’S FINANCIAL SITUATION? IS HE RICH, POOR, COMFORTABLE, IN DEBT? —-Being the leader of the Saviors, he has barely any need or want for anything as he can get whatever he’d like in a moment’s notice.

2. WHAT IS HIS SOCIAL STATUS? HAS THIS CHANGED OVER TIME, AND IF SO, HOW HAS THE CHANGE AFFECTED HIM? —-Again, he is at the top of the social ladder, his whims and desires being what guides him.

3. WHERE DOES HE LIVE? HOUSE, APARTMENT, TRAILER? IS HIS HOME HIS CASTLE OR JUST A PLACE TO CRASH? WHAT CONDITION IS IT IN? DOES HE SHARE IT WITH OTHERS? —-Lives in a cozy, nicely furnished, and comfortable room within an old, abandoned warehouse called the Sanctuary.

4. BESIDES THE BASIC NECESSITIES, WHAT DOES HE SPEND HIS MONEY ON? —-Negan has no need for money but has an abundance of supplies that he uses for himself, first and foremost, but also allows a lot of it to go to his people.

5. WHAT DOES HE DO FOR A LIVING? IS HE GOOD AT IT? DOES HE ENJOY IT, OR WOULD HE RATHER BE DOING SOMETHING ELSE? —-He loves leading his people and being in charge, being able to tell people what is or isn’t okay or allowed and wouldn’t have it any other way.

6. WHAT ARE HIS INTERESTS OR HOBBIES? HOW DOES HE SPEND HIS FREE TIME? —-Negan actually really enjoys reading to pass his downtime or spending some time with his wives.

7. WHAT ARE HIS EATING HABITS? DOES HE SKIP MEALS, EAT OUT, DRINK ALCOHOL, AVOID CERTAIN FOODS? —-He eats at least a couple meals a day, only the best foods out of which has been grown/found. He likes casually drinking alcohol, though tends to avoid growing drunk off of the substance as it reminds him of his father too much.

ASSOCIATIONS

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING DO YOU ASSOCIATE WITH THE CHARACTER, OR WHICH IS HIS FAVORITE:

1. COLOR? —-Red. 2. SMELL? —-Leather/cologne musk 3. TIME OF DAY? —-Night. 4. SEASON? —-Fall. 5. BOOK? —-Lord of the Flies. 6. MUSIC? —-80′s rock/alternative. 7. PLACE? —-The Sanctuary.  8. SUBSTANCE? —-Whiskey. 9. ANIMAL? —-Panther.

(x)