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sixosix · 5 months

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ALL EYES ON YOU, MY MAGICIAN | LYNEY

please note that lyney and mc are 20+ in this series !! genshin hasn’t explicitly stated lyney’s age but there are a couple scenes where lyney talks about drinking— and i’m stating this now because lyney and mc drink alcohol for this chapter.

warnings drinking, kissing (kinda), hopeless pining, dialogue heavy orz, wc 3.8k

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You and Aether once again find yourselves in an inconspicuous meeting spot, which was just a shadowy corner of Cafe Lutece, your exchanges veiled by the guise of three friends casually eating dinner. Paimon is, of course, stuffing her mouth with the array of desserts; Aether is sipping on a drink she ordered for him, brows furrowed in deep thought, and you’re still wondering why Lyney lied to your face.

After your spar with Lyney, you realized a few things. 1) He knows more than he lets on. 2) He knows that you’re onto him. 3) He could have easily called you out on it, but he didn’t. What was his goal here? Is he playing along?

Or is he hiding something bigger than what you’re trying to go after? Magicians tend to play little tricks to hide a grander one.

Aether hums thoughtfully. “Do you believe him?”

“Definitely not,” you reply swiftly—bitterly, too, because you don’t know what you’re looking for. “I feel like I’m walking straight into a trap.”

You’re a hypocrite, but you’re essentially doing this for them, so you’re better than a hypocrite, at least.

Aether frowns, contemplating. Paimon speaks up on his behalf, fork in hand, “That's strange. Paimon thought you were close! With what it looked like when we found you talking to him.”

“Why?” you demand. It was Lyney who was getting close—literally. “What does it look like to you? I mean, to me, it's as if saying the wrong thing would prompt him to kill me himself. If he wanted to."

Aether suggests, "You should check your eyes."

You huff, stubbornly taking a huge sip of your Fonta. These things taste great. Their sweetness always left you craving it even when you don’t like drinking. Paimon, because she’s an expert, sensed your newly acquired favorite and insisted that Aether buy you one.

“I feel kind of bad now. It seems that my blackmail is just getting in the way of your drama with Lyney,” Aether admits.

“We don't have drama,” you dismiss, which is instinctual by this point, “We just hated each other. He used to get on my nerves a lot—and turns out he doesn’t plan on stopping.”

Under the muted glow of the street lamps, your words trail off. Your gaze lingers on your palms. It is not obvious—you’d have to look closely, but there were scars on your palms. Most of them were from tending to plants and sharp tools, while the others were marks of burns. You wonder how Lyney noticed.

Aether calls for your name. You’re dragged back to reality when Paimon waves her tiny hands in front of your face.

“Right, sorry,” you laugh humorlessly, turning your hands back around. “Um, what should we do about Lord Tartaglia?"

Aether and Paimon share a confused glance. “Childe? What's up with Childe?”

“I told them that I'm under his faction as a cover.”

“Oh, that's no problem,” Aether assures, snorting dismissively. “Childe still owes me a lot—I'll tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

You glance around the area. There were only a few customers. A Melusine kicks her feet by the entrance as she digs in on her cake, a young man whose face is buried in his palms, and a little girl and her mother share a plate of Conch Madeleine. How sweet.

“Will that work?” you whisper, “I am trying to extract Fatui information. People usually get killed over this.”

Aether, with a sly grin, says, “Again, Childe owes me a lot. My magic word is Teucer.”

Feeling a little hopeful, you decide to look on the brighter side of things. A Harbinger and an Outlander by your side against Lyney and The Knave sounds more promising than years' worth of memorizing Fontaine Flowers’ textbook definitions and a rusty polearm.

“Is there anything you want to find out in particular?” you ask.

"Anything about my sister, really,” Aether says dejectedly. “I've traveled from Mondstadt to Fontaine, and only one Archon gave me a sliver of info. If you find anything, that’s all I ask for.”

Getting blackmailed by such an earnest brother is possibly the most troublesome way of getting blackmailed. Seeing such a longing expression on his face— archons, these idiot brothers caring too much and using it against your family-oriented soft spot.

“And you’ll leave Rosalie alone, right?”

“That’s our deal,” Aether says. “Though, I think Rosalie loves Paimon. You wouldn’t be able to get rid of us that easily.”

You separate ways after Paimon finishes her food. She politely and sweetly asks you to question Rosalie when she will make her next batch of dinner so they can come over. You tell her sure, but you hope not because Paimon, as cute as she is, would end up spilling a secret or two when her stomach is happy and satisfied.

Rosalie is probably waiting for you to get home. You hurry your steps.

Before you can reach the door, a tall, hooded figure swings it open and shoulders past you, not allowing you even a glimpse of the stranger’s face. When you turn, the figure has stopped and looked at you over their shoulder. You can't tell if you've made eye contact; the shadows dancing on their face make it too dark to discern their features.

Feeling uncomfortable, you turn back and shoulder the door open. You feel uneasy knowing that they had been inside Rosalie’s shop. Rosalie has a lot of lovesick admirers, ones that you didn’t hesitate presenting lousy customer service to to scare them away.

Rosalie is humming happily as you enter, moving pots of plants around to display by the window. She brightens when you wave at her. “Y/N! Just in time—would you mind helping me replace these with the newer batch?”

She doesn’t seem to be creeped out.

You can’t help but ask, “Was that a customer earlier?”

“Mhm,” Rosalie says absentmindedly, fixing the pot in a perfect angle that would show the blooming flowers to the streets. “Bought one of our imports from Snezhnaya—you know the ones that would have died in the next two weeks or so? Our rain is no match for Snezhnaya’s snow, but they were beautiful petals. I’m glad they could be of use, somehow.”

You hum, heaving up a heavy pot of Calla Lilies onto a vacant space. “They were.”

“I didn’t make her pay because I felt terrible knowing it wouldn’t last long, but she insisted!” Rosalie wipes sweat off her brow.

You gesture at the little Lumidouce Bell by the counter, growing taller by the day. “Are we not going to display that, too?”

“We’re displaying it there—it is not for sale,” Rosalie says. “We can’t let them think I’m selling it.”

“It’s just a flower.”

Rosalie wipes off the dirt from her fingers on her apron and pokes at your nose with her pinky. “Yes, but it’s your flower.”

You feel your face warm, flattered, and endlessly endeared. “Right.”

Rosalie smiles knowingly, rising from her knees. “Before I forget—check behind the counter, will you? A package of yours arrived today.”

“A package?” You don’t remember ordering anything. You don’t think you’ve ordered anything at all your entire life.

Everything you owned was either hand-me-downs (courtesy of the House’s previous members and now Rosalie’s collection of dresses) or little things here and there with the money you earned from working in the flower shop. They were all bought and chosen, with Rosalie doing so on your behalf, with your unwillingness to step outside when unnecessary.

“It’s tall,” Rosalie says conspiratorially, “twice the size of a guitar case! Are you practicing the double bass in secret?”

“No…?” You walk behind the counter and find the package beside the door. Rosalie wasn’t exaggerating—it’s taller than you. “Does it say who’s it from?”

“I tried looking, but it only has a cute little cat drawn on it,” Rosalie says, walking past you in a flurry of ruffled skirts.

You frown at it. A cat? You inspect the bottom of the package; sure enough, it has a little cat drawn on it, winking up at you. What the hell?

“The cat is wearing a top hat, did you see?” Rosalie asks loudly to overpower the running water.

Nevermind. You know exactly who sent you this package. The double bass in question is a spear, hence its height. It’s here already? Lyney sure works fast. To think that you never escaped the ever-generous donations of the House—even now, when you aren’t an orphan there.

You sigh. You just told him you didn’t want to owe anything.

Still, you tear open the carton. It rips in a clean line, unraveling itself. You gasp at the sight of the most beautiful spear you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It’s far from elegant, the tip resembling the sharpened spine of a dragon, as if a hunter’s trophy. The shaft, fading from blood red to black on its tip as scales, feels sleek to the touch when you run your fingers through it.

A piece of paper is taped onto it, folded in half, and has the words READ ME printed in bold ink. You cast a glance at Rosalie, who’s still out of sight, then swiftly read the contents of the letter.

Come with me to the banquet tomorrow morning, with an address attached.

Your first thought is to rip it to shreds. Your second one—which happens to be the louder one—is curious about the event. Why invite you? Is this a trap? Did he want to show you something?

A banquet… You catch a reflection of yourself on the shop’s window, seeing a muddy apron, a loose blouse, and pants that most probably belonged to a man before you got your hands on it. A banquet invitation by the famous Great Magician Lyney is like a challenge to your wealth and fame, but Lyney’s not like that. Curiosity ends up winning.

“Rosalie?” you call out.

She emerges from the door. Her dress, even for gardening—unlike yours—is gorgeous and grand and definitely meant for banquets. She unties her apron. “Yes, darling?”

And that’s how you ended up getting all dolled up. Having learned your lesson from last time, you asked Rosalie to loosen your corset. This gown is larger than your previous one, fluffing around your waist and pooling by your feet in a graceful heap of velvet fabric.

You can’t help but notice the wine-red shade of Rosalie’s lips matched the skirt of the gown.

“Can I borrow the lip color you use?” you ask quietly, feeling like you’re already asking too much from her.

You cast your gaze to the floor, too nervous to behold Rosalie’s expression. You didn’t get to see how she smiles fondly or how her eyes crinkle as you fidget on your feet. When she returns from fetching her box of cosmetics, she holds your chin and grins.

“Thanks, maman,” you try to say, with your mouth wide open and all as she paints your lips.

The brush pauses. Rosalie’s face softens. “Of course, Mon bébé. Always.”

As you enter the main hall, a man in a suit greets you with a tray of glasses in hand. He waits patiently and doesn’t leave until you reluctantly take one with a muttered thanks.

Where is Lyney?

You scan the place. The chandelier twinkles with diamonds, raining on everyone’s heads with a colorful reflection that illuminated their jewelry. Although Rosalie’s gowns were far more expensive than anything you’ve ever worn, it almost seems like it’s nothing compared to the over-the-top dresses and suits excuse of a wealth showcase.

They’re all talking and laughing with each other, sipping idly on their half-empty champagne. Feeling out of place, you tip the glass back and swallow quietly.

Its acidity makes you wince, but the taste bursts with a rich flavor. The last time you consumed anything alcoholic, it was your 18th birthday, and Rosalie slid over a glass of wine. The day ended in you throwing up on the sidewalk, but the memory is sweet. It has you going for one more sip.

The banquet-goers pay you no mind as you walk further inside. They chatter, eat, and tip their heads back to drink, but they don’t spare you even a glance. Perhaps they can smell the money off of you—which was none.

Meow, you hear by your feet.

“Oh!” you say, pleasantly surprised. You bend down to offer your hand out. “Hello, kitty. That’s a dashing hat you have there.”

The cat purrs and rubs itself on the back of your palm. Its dark fur is soft, a telltale sign of a well-groomed cat.

“Are you here with someone?” you ask politely, expecting no response, but the cat starts moving its paws and saunters off with a destination.

With nothing else to do, you obediently follow.

The cat strolls off. It brushes past leather shoes and ruffles and layers of skirts. It walks like it knows exactly where it’s going in the grand room. Maybe the little guy actually does. Its hat bounces as it trots, which reminds you of a particular lilac-eyed individual.

But you stopped following, eventually, because your eyes caught on— speak of the devil.

Lyney grins as cards fly across from one hand to another in a smooth movement. There aren't any stage props or spotlights flashing down on him, yet everyone watches with rapt gazes. That's always been his real talent: a magnet for attention by simply waving his hands. By batting his eyes, he's got everyone enamored.

For all his talk about keeping a fair distance with his admirers, you can’t blame any of them for believing Lyney’s comfort in their presence, his ease in the way they crowd him. He’s a splendid actor.

For some reason, this brings out an unpleasant feeling in your chest. It makes you want to reach out and show them what he’s truly like without a mask—but that doesn’t sound right to you, either. They don’t have to know what Lyney’s like when he wraps his arms around your personal space.

Maybe the alcohol is getting to you.

Before you can turn away, fingers clasp around your forearm and pull you against a body.

Lyney’s smiling wide, a jarring contrast to the fake one seconds ago. “You’re here!”

You get flustered, aware of his audience directing their attention to both of you. “I told you I didn’t like owing anyone anything.”

Lyney laughs melodically, kissing the back of your palm. Is he aware of all these eyes? He has to be—that’s his life’s work. Perhaps he doesn’t care. Perhaps he wants to show off as much as you do.

The air was thick the moment you entered the banquet, scents of all perfumes and roasted meats clashing and clinging to your nose, but suddenly it felt a lot more charged. Like you could faintly register the hair on your arms standing up in attention as you hold Lyney’s gaze.

“Forgive me; I missed you and had to come up with an excuse, somehow,” he says, winking up at you.

“We just saw each other two days ago,” you say.

When the tray of wine passes by once more, you eagerly draw out another glass. The faint buzz in the back of your head is not strong enough to drown out your stupid thoughts about Lyney, of all people.

The man of the hour—Lyney, because he always is—does the same. He murmurs, “You look breathtaking.”

“You should’ve warned me that the banquet would be ten times fancier than what I had in mind,” you say in return.

“And yet, even unprepared, no soul can take their eyes off you.”

You hope Lyney’s just saying that as a compliment, and it’s not what’s actually happening. You crane your neck and notice a whispering crowd as they stare at you. It wasn’t the whole truth. Even when pressed against Lyney, all eyes are on him. You face Lyney, suddenly conscious.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

Your face burns, breath hitching in a way that has you choking on your drink. What the hell are you thinking? Are you out of your mind?

“I need another drink,” you say after downing your current one in half.

Lyney frowns, patting your back. His warmth sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I think what you need is water. How many glasses have you had already?”

You don’t want to be sober when you’re faced with Lyney. You don’t want to be sober when Lyney’s so close. “Not enough,” you say, because you don’t want to be sober right now.

The rest of the signs of intoxication start to settle as the laughter that rings somewhere from afar softens into an echo. The warm lights that showered the room seemed to glow when they rested on Lyney’s face. Though, you can’t quite tell if it’s intoxication or if it’s Lyney’s magic.

“What’s this banquet for?”

Lyney hums, taking one long sip. His lips press against the glass. “We’re celebrating father’s return.”

You think of The Knave instead, tall and intimidating when you stand across her, and wince. “She’s back?”

“Mhm,” Lyney says, his eyes tracing over your face, “has been for a while now, but the orphans decided to throw a little something for her. Can’t you tell? Half of the people in this room are Fatui.”

Oh.

You couldn’t tell, but you should’ve known. The Orphans were raised and trained to be masters of deception, blending seamlessly.

“But… why?” You’re starting to feel some weight on your tongue.

“We needed sponsors for a party this grand,” Lyney leans in to whisper, eyes gleaming, “and a party this grand would surely attract important people who know a lot.”

You want to ask why he’s telling you all of this freely, but you catch the flush dancing on his cheeks, and it faintly registers that Lyney must be a little drunk as well.

“Lyney, I—”

“Don't worry.” He’s still whispering. You have to draw closer to hear him. “I wouldn't have invited you if ‘Father’ personally came here. It’s just us, and no one will bother you if you’re with me.”

“Then why invite me here?”

Lyney smiles playfully, posture elegant with practice yet shoulders loose with the champagne. “I thought you would have been eager to learn more about the House’s current state.”

Was this a jab to his suspicions? Or was this him trying to reach out and employ a sense of nostalgia? You’re not drunk enough for this.

“Most of the ones we grew up with were sent off to other regions. But the one hosting—do you remember Cecilia?

You remember Cecilia. You have scars that remind you of Cecilia. “How has she been? Good, I hope? No grudges against me?”

“She never held any grudges,” Lyney laughs, and he tells you all about how they’ve all been since you left.

Without meaning to, you and Lyney end up recalling memories back in the House. And without thinking hard about it, you pluck another glass, then another, emboldened by the taste and fruits of alcohol—emboldened by how each sip has you feeling light. You don’t realize it, but you and Lyney end up pressed against each other, fondly remembering memories you thought you left behind. You could never run too far.

Maybe it’s your inhibitions dissipating along with the fizz of the champagne. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Maybe it’s when Lyney’s tongue darted out to wet his lip, the words died in your mouth, and your head is heavy and very much feeling like it wants to be caught by Lyney. With his face.

“Hey,” Lyney says, his hand trailing across your jaw. As if he’s stopping you. “We’re pretty out of it right now. Don’t kiss me.”

You scowl. “Why? you hate me that much?”

Lyney’s eyes widen. “No. Don’t—don’t pout at me like that.” He covers your mouth. “That’s not fair.”

You haven’t even realized you were pouting. You wave his hand off and slump against him, curling against his comforting warmth. You like the view of the flush on Lyney’s neck crawling all the way up to his ears.

Lyney sighs, his back leaning against the wall as he holds you. You haven’t even noticed that you and Lyney were huddled together in a dark corner. “It would’ve been easier if we hated each other, huh?” He traces his thumb over your lip, looking forlorn. “I wouldn’t have hesitated to protect my status as a Fatuus the moment you came back out of thin air.”

You want to shut him up. “You’re talking too much. Just kiss me.”

“No,” Lyney says, but he doesn’t push you off of him either. “Let’s get you water.”

Ugh. The thought of water makes you sick. You resist the urge to vomit and nuzzle your nose on his collarbone, visibly relaxing when he steadies you with hands on both sides of your hips. This is better than water.

“Did you like my gift?” Lyney whispers to your ear.

You nod against his neck. “It was cool. I didn't know how to repay you, but now… now I regret coming here.”

“Why’s that?”

You run your fingers through his hair, messing up the braid on the side of his head. “Because I want to kiss you, and you’re being annoying. The nerve you have when you’re looking at me like that.”

Lyney slumps against the wall, defeated. “Don’t just say that, Y/N. You can’t go around saying that.”

“I’m not. Why else am I all over you instead of someone else?”

You watch in fascination as Lyney’s pupils dilate. Lyney’s skin feels so soft to the touch and inexplicably warm. Why is he denying you? Surely he feels it, too. Surely he wants it, too.

“Hey,” you whisper, and Lyney trembles. “What’s—what… What are you and Lynette up to? There has to be a reason you’re here, right? Tell me.”

Lyney frowns, pulling away to face you. “What?”

But then light rolls into view, stinging your eyes at the abrupt radiance. Someone has turned the lights on, possibly the culprit of this assault and rude interruption.

“Oh, shit,” a voice says.

Lyney stiffens, hands moving protectively around your torso, shielding you from the light that floods in when the door opens.

“M-Master Childe!” Lyney exclaims, looking torn between standing up and keeping you shielded, still. He has lipstick on his jaw; you want to point at it and laugh.

“Lord Tartaglia’s here?” you ask, stumbling over his name.

“Um,” Lord Tartaglia stands frozen by the doorway, “I’ll be leaving you two to it.”

ive never gotten drunk before so idk how off i am from the real deal, but i did consult my friend who has gotten drunk so hopefully i was at least not too inaccurate LMFAOO

NO WAY NEW CHAPTER. and theyre being stupid. now ay..... TYSM FOR READIN!!!!!! and sorry if this took a while i was being stupid too and decided to rewrite a big chunk last minute. LMK WHAT U THINK

TAGLIST.

@thenyxsky @aeferkssr @1mewo1 @lacrimae-lotos @meigalaxy @hyacinth-daze @miwafei @popochakku @svasilios @heyhazelnut101 @kruinka @waveto-earth @superstar-ethereal @mxplesyrvp @achilleas-dream @episodecete @jellifizz @auranny @motherscrustytoenailclippings @lovelyevil @iawaaaaaaa @rionah @esmetrees @cherryig @kzhwaif @mystiquemare @unknownlololol @sanluvssu @blvdmrcnry @kascar-chronicle @idontevenknow129 @tarathecogsci @lunavixia @beaniedoodz @wendolrea @avalordream @egoistars @rains-mae @magnificentfireball @poemzcheng @fiannee @ask-kurayami-akura @sc4rlett-letter @xxxion

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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eletricheart · 1 month

Note

Hii i wanted to ask if you could do Donna Beneviento with a fem! s/o whos like Alastor from Hazbin Hotel? You dont have to do this request if you dont want to, no pressure!

Me and the Devil

(Donna Beneviento x fem!reader)

*pic from pinterest

Word count: 757

So, I've never seen this show so this was a bit hard to write, sorry for the short lenght. I hope it's good, i tried to make some research on the character but wiki only goes so far😭

ps: sorry for the long wait too😔✌

ps2: its fluff btw, i promise

ps3: not proofread pls lmk any mistakes

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Donna met…well…noticed your presence at her workshop every week when she worked with human subjects. The dollmaker was afraid at first but chose to remain calm, silently working and observing your moves. It went on for months, making Donna even used to your hidden company.

You met her after three months of stalking, finally deciding to ask the purpose of her actions, which she didn't answer. So you kept returning, week after week, slowly getting closer and asking more questions.

Angie met you once she noticed the dollmaker taking longer to leave the workshop. The doll was distrustful at first but soon enough you won her over by playing with her shadow. You regretted that decision after her chasing you around demanding you played with her.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

You found yourself following the directions of a doll into the village.

Earlier on the day Donna had expressed her wish for new tolls to which you responded by saying why she didn't buy it before it ended, to which started an argument on responsibility.

Now, you pride yourself in being the strongest being alive and dead, taking orders from no one. Therefore, your current predicament was completely your choice.

You had easily found the man named Duke, his carriage surrounded by commoners who quickly made way once seeing Angie. You didn't like the people around you, in fact was close enough to hating them.

You were watching Angie speaking to the Duke when a villager touched your shoulder. You weren't impulsive, of course not, he just dropped dead, on his own.

With the noise of the body falling followed by the townsfolk screaming and running off. Angie turned to look at your smiling face. “What the hell did you?!”

You smiled looking from the body to the doll. “Well…I sucked the soul out of his body, obviously. Touching someone without their consent is very impolite.”

After this occurrence the doll loved going out with you, getting more excited every time you killed someone, by accident of course.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Rainy day

You were sitting on Donna’s couch fixing the radio while the dollmaker knitted on a nearby armchair.

Donna turned to stare at you shaking the radio. “Why don't you sing yourself? It’ll sound the same.”

You looked up with furrowed eyebrows, blinking slowly while staring back at her. “No. Unless you’d give me something in return.” You said, turning your confused face into a smile.

Donna rolled her eyes behind her veil. “No.”

You shrugged and returned to your task, successfully fixing the radio.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Angie’s birthday

After questioning Donna on how a doll has a birthday, you fell into an easy silence while baking a cake and some sweets for the dolls.

The dollmaker noticed your apparent skills, slowly trusting you more with her kitchen. “I didn't think demons had baking lessons in hell.”

You turned to her with a sly smile. “Making jokes, huh. Well, I didn't learn it in hell.”

Donna smiled and threw some flour at you. “How did you learn it then?”

You chuckled, cleaning your face from the attack. “My mother taught me, you would've liked her.”

The Lady nodded. “I’m sure I would've.”

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Something new

You were standing in front of her workshop, holding a pot with a single flower in your hands. You stayed still for a few minutes before having the courage to knock.

It didn't take long for you to hear the ‘come in’ and make your way around the hanging wood pieces.

You stood in front of her, holding the flower to her face. “I made it.”

Donna stared back and forth between your face and the floor before speaking. “I don't recognize it.”

You scuffed. “Because I made it, it’s mine.”

The dollmaker gently took the pot from your hands, holding it dearly. “You made me a flower.”

You tilted your head at her. “Yes, I’ve said it twice.”

Donna nodded. “Wait outside, please.”

And so you did, walking around in circles in the hall waiting for her to open the door again. You weren't nervous, you didn't have a reason to be since not fully understood why you felt the need to make her a flower. You were bored, and so you walked.

The dollmaker opened the door after an hour, holding a wooden flower. “I could've made you a normal flower too, but you’ve already seen all of the ones I can do. So…here’s something new.”

You carefully took the flower from her hands and smiled sincerely. “It’s mine now.”

Donna laughed. “It’s yours.”

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requests are open: masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #donna beneviento #resident evil #lady beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #fanfic #non canon #resident evil donna beneviento x reader #donna beneviento x female reader #resident evil donna #lady beneviento x reader #re8 fanfiction

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supersoakerfullofblood · 3 months

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Conflict and Genre; Hurting Our Characters in Ways That Matter

If you've even only skimmed my blog, you may have noticed that I preach the importance of character and conflict above all other elements of narrative. The qualities of these dictate the qualities of the story, and by and large, every other narrative element will in part develop from these. I've written a bit about what makes strong characters here and on random other posts, but now it's time to talk conflict: what it is and how we write it.

You'll read everywhere that there are two types of conflict: internal and external. This is true but misaligned. That's kind of like saying the two types of planets are Earth and all the other planets. In reality, most conflicts are a mix of both with varying ratios of one to the other, and "internal" does a lot of heavy lifting in this dichotomy. Is it emotional? Mental? Religious? Interpersonal? A lot of stuff goes on in the human brain!

I've used conflict a bit already without defining it, so let's do so. Conflict is anything in a narrative that negatively affects a character and that character's reaction. It's a broad concept! A duel with a dragon and a tough breakup are equally valid conflicts. You might hear people advise to "hurt your MC." This is true albeit quirky and cliche. Hurt your characters, yes, but the other half of conflict, your character's reaction, is necessary to crafting a strong story. If the duel the dragon, win, and return home victorious, case closed, that's not a very interesting story; if your character goes through the breakup with healthy coping mechanisms and emotional maturity, who cares? What gives? Unless it's the end of the story, the reader doesn't want the conflict to resolve! (Or, they don't want every conflict to resolve. Some can, but always keep one fire lit.)

Your goal as a writer should be to lead your character's decisions deeper into their conflicts. Of course, this shouldn't be obvious--if characters make bad, stupid decisions, the reader will catch on. But you can use your character's flaws and vulnerabilities to make them make poor decisions or otherwise get them in binds without the reader noticing.

One example from my own work: In one of my novels, The Ghosts of Glass Lake, one character focuses on her acting career so she won't have to focus on her mother's suicide. The suicide affected the character negatively, and the focus on acting was her reaction. Obviously, this focus wasn't the healthy thing to do, which gives me as a writer room to play with and grow this conflict. While she's rehearsing, she sees her mother's ghost from time to time. When she does try to resolve this trauma, she goes about it wrong by attempting to speak with her mother via spirit box instead of, y'know, going to therapy. Other characters try to help her cope by dubiously legitimate methods. By the end of the novel, she hasn't reconciled her acting career with the effects of her mother's death, and this tension hurts the people around her.

One example from classic literature: In Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse, each character witnesses and thinks upon how other characters treat them and others. This novel has next to no external conflict. One character, Lily Briscoe, loves to paint and notices how the men around her talk about how women can't paint, and a second character mansplains some painting lingo to her. Most of her time in the novel is spent in these interactions or thinking about them and the greater societal shifts that caused them, and by the end of the novel, she accepts herself as a painter and completes the piece she'd been working on.

My and Woolf's examples have some commonalities and some differences. Woolf's is almost entirely internal where mine is almost entirely internal until late in the novel when it grows an external bent. In both cases, conflict is both something that negatively affects a character and that character's reaction to it. This reaction causes the conflict to deepen, which causes another reaction, and a cycle starts that will only resolve (if you want it to resolve) at the end of the narrative.

The type of conflict you write is a question of style, but certain genres historically lend themselves towards one or the other. You'll often hear "genre fiction" and "literary fiction" tossed around in literary discourse. These are two umbrella categories that if you ask me don't really exist anymore, but that's another topic for another time. So disclaimer, read below with a grain of salt, but not too big a grain, as there is truth here.

Genre fiction (fantasy, sci-fi, romance, mystery, thriller) trends towards external conflict: will they kill the dragon and save the princess? Will they win the space war? Find the culprit? Escape the killer? Literary fiction ("the classics," realistic fiction) trends towards internal conflict: how do we come of age? Recognize death? Understand love?

The dichotomy of genre/literary was created during a time when those labels weren't so liquid (here's a great article on the topic), but nowadays, great books blur these lines more than they ever had. Circe is a book with the popular conventions of Percy Jackson but is also a meditation on gender and family obligations. Station Eleven is a post-apocalyptic dystopia about how we find meaning in our everyday lives. American Gods has the trappings of any old adventure story but also questions past and present systems of belief.

And was this genre/literary conflict dichotomy ever real? I would argue no and that the strongest genre fiction also incorporates internal conflict. The Lord of the Rings is a story about Sauron and the Nazgul just as it is about the nature of power and responsibility, advancing technology, and the environment; The Left Hand of Darkness is an adventure across an ice planet but only through the lenses of gender and religion; Dune is about drugs and worms but also religious conflict, imperialism, indigenous culture, and much much more; Earthsea is an adventure through magical archipelagos and also a meditation on grief, gender norms, and reconciliation. You can say similar things as these to any great piece of genre fiction, but I don't personally think this works in reverse. Not every story needs external conflict, as Virginia Woolf shows, though even the most literary of stories will use some, even if only on accident. This is because the best stories always say something deeper about their characters than simply "they can kill the dragon"; the best stories get at what it means to kill a dragon.

So in anything you write, try adding this internal axis! If you're not used to it, try this exercise. Ask yourself what the external conflict is. Then ask yourself how your character feels about it. When you have even 5% of an answer, start writing it! Then when those feelings get that character into more or deeper trouble, ask how they feel about that, then write again. Conflict is what happens to your character as much as what your character's reaction says about them.

Asks are always open if you have any questions!

#writeblr #writing #fanfic #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #bookblr #booklr #creative writing #writers on tumblr #writing help #writer tips

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jams-sims · 11 months

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I wrote a whole ass essay for Philza now Im gonna do it for Jaiden. In defense of the lack of content with Jaiden in it (real quick). Being an old goat of fandoms I can explain it (don't worry this won't take long and also it plays into her character's overarching narrative of a grieving mother.) Plain in simple women in Minecraft are notorious for getting shit on by the collective fandom. (Everyone has to take part in making sure that it stops happening.) She is mainly a YouTuber which makes a dissonance between mainly youtube viewers and Twitch watchers. So it's harder to catch her just because you have to go to another site. Also, she doesn't stream as often as everyone else. This makes for a lack of content, just because Jaiden is just a low-key person. This is the recipes for a lack of content BUT that does not excuse people who are being weird to her or think she's in the way of any ships etc etc.

BUT

Narratively speaking all of those things above make for perfect storytelling. (below the cut I go deep into Jaiden character I mean I go DEEP)

Even though Jaiden has the support of the whole island. At the end of the day- she goes back to that same house. Climbs to the very top and she fall asleep on the chair facing the sunset. This means that everyone else has moved on, especially Roier. She is forever stuck in that same place.

I can't be the only one who noticed every single stream, she logs out at the house. BY HERSELF (I think Roier built? Someone corrects me if I'm wrong.) It's so subtle that you wouldn't even notice it at first.

When asked where she was living by Etolies. She doesnt say her and roier house, she doesn't even say where bobby use to live. She specifically says " I am squating in Roier old house". She puts herself on the outskirts of what is further from the truth. Shes not squating in roier house im 100% sure Roier shares everything with her. It is her home too!

Next when it came to the marriage between cellbit and Roier. She was surprised that she was even invite. Its as if as soon as Bobby died all her friendships and relationships died with him. No matter how many people are around her she has this ice wall of isolation and deep lonely-ness.

Her grieiving is less theratical than Charlies its so sudtle that you can miss it. While Roier throw himself into drink and into a relationship. (Which has admitedly worked out in his favor. He gets a husband a new son, a world of love. Something that can lessen the sting of Bobbys death.)

Jaiden on the other hand threw herself into a a impossible task, "protect the eggs." She doesn't know anything about any group or fractions. That is her only wish and the federation saw that and picked her to use. She has nothing everyone else has seemingly moved on of course. They haven't stopped investigating but they death of Bobby mostly everyone has moved on. Besides Jaiden this is her driving force so no one will suffer like she did. (on a side note her and Charlie should team up for lore and to both work for the federations.)

ITS PREFECT! Oh are you greiving has everyone else seemingly moved on? Your friendly neighborhood bear has a book full of instructions. Don't think, I'll guide you.

Before it fell apart the federation was going to secretly use Jaiden and she was going to do everything alone. But because Jaiden can't keep a secret to save her life. This leads to everyone realizing how at risk Jaiden is at being used. They are all with her in an instant. But part of her character is now that she sides with the Fedration and no one sees it yet. While everyone else think they are the bad guy. Her story is shifting because cucurucho is there, because cucurucho is nice to her, because Jaiden is cucurucho favorite.

She is being drawn in whether she knows it or not to be om their side. Think of it this way-

Fit is team: Spy thats off the island

Cellbit and Crew are team: AntiFederation

Jaiden the one that is left alone is the perfect choice to slowly pull her onto the federation side. It's perfect! The self isolation, the want to connect but feeling like she can't. It would be so easy for someone to take advantage of that.

#qsmp jaiden #qsmp #jaiden animations #qsmp cucurucho

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popironrye · 3 months

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Michael is a Great character and Star Deserves more than she gets.

While the 4 main vamp bois in 1987 'The Lost Boys' get plenty of pretty equal love from the fandom (and many also love Michael) but I don't see the same love extended to Star and many people criticize the both of them. So I just want to set the record straight. I don't trust people who hate on Michael and Star. There I said it!

Let's start with Star since she's the easier one to talk about.

o The biggest criticism I see for Star is people say she's forgettable, one note, and reduced to Michael's love interest. (This is especially bad in shipping spaces for people who ship Michael with the male members of the lost boys) While it's true Star doesn't get a lot to do in the film, she has about as much if not more screentime and speaking roles as the other lost boys like Marko, Paul, and especially Dwayne. Her biggest crime is being in a story that isn't solely about her, but that's ok! She works in the role she has, which is the main reason why Michael goes through everything he does in the movie. Would it have been better if she had a bigger impact in the climax? Sure but with Michael, Sam, and the Frog brothers having that many characters fighting back against the vampires would get pretty cluttered. Also, having Star not vamp out is criminal. I wanted to see Star with the vamp eyes and fangs.

Speaking of playing a role aside Michael! o Michael gets a lot of flack for making stupid decisions and never asking questions or communicating. God forbid characters have flaws and a movie have conflict to get the plot moving. I love Michael's character. It's something I relate to honestly. People seem to forget that Michael is only 18. Moving several hours away from his home state, leaving behind any friends, coworkers, and family behind to live in a new place with his recently divorced mother. A broken family on top of having to adjust to a new place to live. Yes, he's horny for Star the minute he sees her but it goes beyond her when David and the boys show up. Michael is desperate to be a part of a group. He has no friends and the only family he's hanging out with is his significantly younger brother. I personally don't see Michael going through everything he did just for a chance to hook up with Star. Hell, after he (admittedly stupidly) decks David in the face and gets invited back to the hotel, Star is standing in the distance while Michael is being persuaded by David. If this was truly about competing with David for Star's affection, why is Michael chilling with them. Eating dinner with them, and then accepting the bottle. David drives the point home to the audience and to Michael. "Be one of us." We of course know he's referring to being a vampire but to Michael he's being offered a spot in the gang. He's being peer pressured into being apart of their group, and he doesn't say no because he wants that. Speaking of, people also point the blood drinking scene as Michael not listening to Star and making a stupid decision. He doesn't even ask what's in the bottle before he swigs it. I've already said that characters having flaws is not an issue but really think about it. Yeah, the group is weird but say you were in Michael's shoes. Someone hands you a bottle to drink and another person says it's blood. Would you believe them? Michael knows at this point that David is messing with him. What with the maggots instead of rice and worms instead of noodles, proven to be something Michael saw but then seeing what he saw wasn't real. So you got an 18 year old with no friends surrounded by a group chanting his name, of course he drinks the blood. He had no reason to believe David gave him actual blood to drink.

And I think that about covers it. You can say I'm biased, but idc. Let me know your thoughts!

#the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #star tlb #star the lost boys #michael tlb #michael the lost boys #discourse #discuss #film discourse #share your thoughts #character analysis

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wen-kexing-apologist · 6 months

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Top 5 Emotional Outbursts

See if no one else on this website has my back, I know Ben has my back because he is giving me a chance to talk about my boy Patts once more

TOP 5 EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS OF 2023

Patts, La Pluie

gif by the beautiful, marvelous @liyazaki

Episode 10 was just an absolute masterclass in emotional outbursts. The fight between Lomfon and Patts, then Patts and Tai, then Lomfon and Tien, then Patts and Tai again. Like goddamn, finally thank fuck, Patts is able to let out years worth of frustration and pain at Tai's silence was just so beautiful, and cathartic, and necessary. What an absolutely incredible moment to not only witness but experience. Patts has been so kind, so patient, so forgiving, and it was time for all the pain that he's been letting simmer for two years out. Good! For! Him!

Uea and His Bio Family, Bed Friend

There are few characters in this world I hate more than Uea's mother, and it was so so so so so so wonderful to see Uea finally give her a piece of his mind. I am so proud of him for speaking his mind, standing his ground, and getting the ever living fuck out of his bio family's house. Too personal, sorry, but this fight hit especially well for me because I too have had a parent say they'd live perfectly happily without me, and it was great vindication of my reaction to that to see Uea GTFO immediately after.

Secondarily, James' sobbing screams at the beginning of episode 4 and in the flashback of him getting dragged in to the bathroom when he was an adult have never left my brain. James absolutely crushed those scenes and this was going to be my Bed Friend pick before I remembered this fight exists.

Jim and Li Ming // Heart and His Parents, Moonlight Chicken

I don't think I am exaggerating when I say that Jim and Li Ming's relationship dynamics is one of my favorite of all time. Aof is such an incredible screenwriter/director and I feel like he's able to make such realistic depictions of families in all their complicated glory. The screaming match between Jim and Li Ming is SO good, and really is what solidified my appreciation for Fourth's acting skills because there was a fucking storm cloud on his brow. Happy fucking birthday to you Uncle Jim I guess. Poor fucker.

And then of course, one of the first ever posts I made in the BL Sphere of tumblr was a full essay on Heart's confrontation which I loved so motherfucking much. Once again a much needed fight with lots of interesting, complicated emotions flying around the room.

Kiyoi and Hira, Utsukushii Kare Season 2

gif by @itsallaboutbl

"I'm sorry that I like you" one of the best moments of the year for me by far. This fight between Kiyoi and Hira was desperately, and I mean desperately needed. I know changing will be a slow process for the two of them, and even in Eternal they are no where near where they need to be, but Hira needs/needed to cut this Pebble to a God bullshit out and I am so glad that Kiyoi was able to call him on it. Also from a performance standpoint, Yagi Yusei had his work cut out for him as a scene partner to Hagiwara who absolutely bodied his role as Hira. In season one Yagi did not need to do all that much for his performance because we didn't know as much about Kiyoi until closer to the end, but that cannot be the case for Season 2 and Yagi knocked it out of the motherfucking park.

Sunshine and Q, 7 Days Before Valentine

Okay, almost positive this isn't a BL but I love when people structure TV shows like stage plays, and there was a fight between Sunshine and Q in like Episode 4 or 5 where they were shouting over each other and it just felt so real and the dead silence that hit the room when Q said something that struck a chord with Sunshine was expertly handled, and some of the best work I've seen out of Atom the whole show. I don't think anyone gifed it so I can't put the scene in, but I think you talked about it in your Stray Thoughts @bengiyo

And just cause I wanna, the Top 5 Emotional Outbursts of the pre-2023 shows I watched this year:

In and Wang's fight in 180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us, Ep 8

Gav sobbing about his aunt in Gameboys (the movie, i think?)

Pran sobbing in to Pat's shoulder in Bad Buddy, Ep 10

Tarn's fight with Teh in I Told Sunset About You, Ep 4 (shout out to Smile there because I still cannot believe it was the first thing she filmed on set)

Shiro being terrified Kenji was dying and Kenji being worried Shiro was dying and the resulting clownery from them blurting that out in What Did You Eat Yesterday? I think it was the New Year's special.

ASK ME MY TOP 5 OF ANYTHING BL 2023

#best of bl 2023 #ask game #la pluie the series #bed friend #moonlight chicken #utsukushii kare #7 days before valentine #180 degree longitude passes through us #gameboys #gameboys the series #bad buddy #bbs #i told sunset about you #itsay #what did you eat yesterday?#kinou nani tabeta?

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am-cogitoergosum · 1 year

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random poppy war headcannons

• while she was studying for the keju, kesegi asked rin about her new scars. rin would come up with an action packed, overly exaggerated story on how she got each one. they both knew it wasn't true, but kesegi loved listening to the stories and rin loved to tell them, it took her mind off of all the stress she was under.

•ramsa would randomly ask for piggyback rides from basically anyone in the cike that could pick him up

•chaghan used to get bullied as a kid because of his weak build, and qara would protect him every time she saw it happening

•nezha loves the concept of makeup and hair-care. venka is the only person he trusts enough to express this with, and he always asks her about beauty routines. his interest in such "feminine" things is still a huge insecurity for him tho

•kitay is neurodivergent, i don't have so much evidence to back this up, but im sure he is

•kitay and rin often make jokes about kitay being rin's "right hand man"

•get it

•bcs her hand was cut off

•ramsa and baji are banned from sugar consumption for the greater good of everyone around them

•rin has the humor of a twelve year old boy and her time spent with jiang and the cike only encouraged her further

•pipaji dulin and lianhua developed a sibling relationship much like the watterson family in the amazing world of gumball

•altan has an irrational fear of arachnids. idk i just like the idea of him turning into a completely different person when there's a spider around

•rin and altan make jokes about the genocide of speer sometimes

•"rin, istg keep testing me, i will bury you in the ashes of our ancestors."

•"what are you gonna do about it altan? tell your parents? oh, wait."

•"you went there huh? see this is why i hate speerlies, mangy dirtskinned savages, all of them."

•of course, if anyone else joined in on these jokes they would get a memorable (and very painful) reminder that they do not have the right to speak that way

•kitay can waggle his eyebrows in a horrendous manner and he uses this skill to terrorize his friends

•jiang does the same thing with hanelai and the trifecta

•ppl say venka doesn't have a role in the whole trifecta reincarnated thing, but i say her role rlly fits hanelai, she was never as famous, always an outsider no matter how important of a role she played, n just like hanelai she is full of rage at the men who did her wrong

•hanelai would have been an amazing mother

•after rin tested into sinegard, tutor feyrick worked hard to quit his gambling addiction

•in a happier universe kid altan and kid chaghan would have a little treehouse with a big "NO GIRLS ALLOWED" sign on it. sometimes, they'd invite the rest of the cike over to play as well.

•of course, rin and qara are the only exceptions to this "no girls" rule

•baji does a terrifyingly accurate impression of quandale dingle and he uses this ability for the utmost evil

•nezha flirts with himself in the mirror

•vaisra never ate dumplings or anything related to the food after the whole jinzha incident

•in a modern universe jiang would purchase like 300 tiny plastic babies and leave them around the whole school for ppl to find

•rin has a distaste for sex jokes, she always responds with a "don't be disgusting" to every intercourse related joke she hears.

•venka likes giving rin mixed signals, one second she'd be throwing the most wonderful compliments ever created at her, next second she's calling her the ugliest most hotheaded stupid asshole to ever exist

•this leaves rin far too confused to feel flattered or offended

•suni cries when he sees other people cry

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shutit-haha · 9 months

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Rocker Bakugo pt.2

Rocker Bakugo who writes a song about you. He's angsty and pissed, rather than to admit he's in his feels he just composes this whole piece about not needing you. Low-key it's a fuckin banger.

Rocker Bakugo who keeps you as his manager. You're good at your job, he was lying about people being better than you. No one is better than you. You're the best at everything. Your great with contracts, and his temper, great at loving him, and pushing him to do better.

Rocker Bakugo who says it's only until he can find a replacement but he misses having you around. The apartment's so fucking empty and after about a week he gets fed up with only seeing you for work stuff. So he demands for you to stop by the studio, to watch and listen. (Like you used too.) You know he only misses you, but you'd be damned if you let him off easy.

Rocker Bakugo who plays the song in front of you. He's smug about it too, like he didn't practically plead for you to watch him. (Again.) You're pissed, because what an ass! So of course you make him play it again, and again, and again. After about the third time you let the rest of the band leave but not Bakugo, he has to stay.

Rocker Bakugo who's grumbling and playing shitty now because he's pissed. He's growling and playing harder than he need too. If he keeps this up he might just break something or drain himself entirely. You're a jerk though, you keep poking him and poking him.

"Do you know what you're doing," your being condescending. You speak to him as of he were incompetent and stare at him like a child.

Rocker Bakugo who feels like one. He can see his Mother's gaze right after five year old him has thrown a fit. He sees it in you and it irks him. "Of course I know what the hell I'm doing, I made the damn thing!"

"Let me see the sheet," you're in front of him now. You're standing centered in front of his drum set hand out stretched for the sheet music. Now he really does feel like a little boy. And isn't that what he is? A huffy child who misses his mommy.

"I've got it," he snarls at you, snapping slightly.

You snatch the sheet anyways returning to your spot on the wall. "Play."

"Ain't shit to read."

"You don't got it memorized," you cock a brow. "Play."

"I will dammit!"

Rocker Bakugo who fucks it up. "Do it again." You command him knowing that the poor boy is tired.

"I can't," he mumbles.

"What?"

"I said I can't!" His chest is rising and falling way too quickly, his hair covers his face as to prevent you from seeing his eyes. His arms sag from how sore they are, and there's a slight shake too him. "I'm fuckin' tired, can't keep doing this shit."

"Then I need a new cash cow."

His head snaps forward, eyes meeting yours with a nasty glare. "You know damn well I can't play when you take away the sheet music."

You took a step forward, "you made the damn thing. Figured with how proud and confident you were in it, it'd be hard to forget."

"You're being a b-" He sucks air in through his teeth, slamming down his sticks and tilting his head back so he can breathe.

"Oh but you can turn me into a song? I don't want to be some jingle for a monster energy can Bakugo." You're halfway to him, only a couple steps left. "Do it again."

"I can't."

"Again Bakugo."

"I'm fuckin' tired."

Rocker Bakugo who knows you're still mad at him. He doesn't know how to make it up to you, he doesn't even know how to start.

Rocker Bakugo who tries anyways. He picks up the sticks and starts playing your favorite song. Your gaze softens, it isn't enough but it works for now. The both of you are so tired, you hate sleeping alone and that scene just keeps playing in his head.

His voice is hoarse and dry so when he sings its awful, but it makes you laugh. You're humming with him, just content to be in the same space without all that tension. "I know you're not out to get me, I trust you. Sometimes being at the top-"

"Means you forget to be grounded," the two of you speak in unison.

"Works the other way too," you start. "When you're always looking up, you forget there's trouble even in the stars. Constellations tell stories of heartbreak and death, and all I can think of is-"

"Walking on the clouds," he finishes for you. There's a smug little smirk on his face, pleased that he can still remember that line of yours.

"You gonna behave drummer boy?" Your hand cups his cheek, "gonna keep playing the beat to my heart."

He kisses your palm, and sets the sticks down. "Read over the thingy, was a lot better than I originally thought it was."

"I don't know who told you it wasn't."

"Kaminari had overheard something from the other negotiation team and made a dumbass assumption."

"And you believed it?"

"Was blindsided, sweetheart."

"You owe me."

"I know," he grabs at your waist. "Just come home," his other hand covers the one you have on his cheek.

Rocker Bakugo who has to have make-up sex with you. It's part of your dynamic. When the two of you were in high school you used argue over the smallest of things just so that you could bang afterward. As you guys went to college it became a little more difficult, having to learn that sex didn't make up for communication. Though the two of you struggle with words, you've definitely gotten better. And well any progress is progress.

Rocker Bakugo who some how ends up underneath you. When you said he owed you he didn't expect edging to be the price. Yet here he was in a dopey cow headband, with leather cuffs on each wrist as you edge him till he breaks.

Rocker Bakugo who's too lost in his orgasm to notice you taking a picture. It's deserved though, you'll just count it as part of the punishment.

#bakugou katsuki #x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #rocker #Rocker Bakugo #smut #happy ending

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formula1blog · 1 month

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Continue the legacy Pt 1

Leclerc son x Verstappen daughter

masterlist

WC: 1,5 K

A/N: First Chapter. I promise that it gets better with time as we still have to come to the better part. This is some background information. Please let me know what you think. <3

2028

As Max crosses the finish line in first place, a wave of euphoria washes over the entire Red Bull garage. The sound of cheers and applause echoes through the pit lane, with crew members rushing to congratulate the newly crowned five-time world champion. GP's voice comes through Max's earphones, "Max Verstappen, you are a five-time world champion! What a phenomenal achievement!"

As Max drives around the track, he takes a moment to soak in the adoration of his team and the crowd. He looks around at the sea of faces, taking in the sheer joy and elation that are palpable in the air. "Thank you all for this great season," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "The car was incredible, and each and every one of you has worked tirelessly to get us to this point. I'm so grateful to have had such an amazing team behind me."

As he continues to speak, his emotions become more raw and heartfelt. "Since the start of this season, I've felt like I've been on top of the world. The team has been so supportive and kind to me, and it means the world to me. This is an incredible way to end my career, and I'm so grateful to have been able to share it with all of you." The team erupts in applause once again.

Max parks his car at Parc ferme behind the number 1 board. Next to him were Charles Leclerc and Lando Norris, the two of his friends and newly world champions themselves. Standing on top of his car with five fingers in the air before running towards his team and launching himself on them. His mechanics ruffle his hair and give him pats on his back.

Later on the podium, he stands on the top step, his face looking into the crowd. He sees his wife and daughters smiling up at him with proud faces. Well, Sofie wasn't really showing emotion because she was only a couple of months old, but Penelope was clapping with joy. For the last time, the Dutch anthem would be played for him.

As the Austrian anthem ended and the trophies were given to the three drives, champagne was flying around the place. Lando and Charles have made it their mission to shower the Dutch in the sticky liquid and celebrate his last podium.

"Congratulations, mate." Charles pats his friend on the back before setting his champagne bottle down.

"We are grateful that you let us win these last three years." Lando adds.

"No problem. Sharing is caring." Max jokes and the other two drivers laugh in response.

As they settle in for the post-race interview, the three drivers are seated comfortably in front of a backdrop of gleaming trophies and team logos. Max sits in the middle, flanked by Charles to his left and Lando to his right.

"Max, congrats on your fifth world champion and probably your last one as you retire from racing. Can I ask what your reason for your decision was?"

"Firstly, thank you for your congrats. My decision to retire came from myself. At the beginning of this year, my daughter was born and I love to be able to spend time with her and the rest of my family. With racing, you are always all over the world and training and I don't think I can live with the fact that I am not home enough." The other people in the room listen intently, their faces sympathetic. On the sidelines, Max's family had been watching the interview, but his youngest daughter, who had been quietly observing from her mother's lap, suddenly began to cry. Her mother quickly whisked her away to a private area, trying to comfort the distressed child.

"Charles, you're a father too, do you have any plans on retiring soon?" the interviewer asks, turning to the Ferrari driver.

Charles picks up his microphone and thinks a bit before speaking. "At this moment not. Of course, I have some years of racing behind me, so time will tell when I quit. Jules is a year and a half right now and I try to be there as much as I can." The man on the other side nods and thanks them both for their answers.

"I don't really have plans on retiring. Thank you for asking," Lando jokes in a lighthearted tone, trying to lighten the mood. "Just being an uncle for now," Charles adds with a chuckle. Max laughs along with him, grateful for the distraction from his own emotional revelation.

Another person stands up to ask a question. "Max, is there already a person who is going to take your seat?"

"I don't think that is my place to tell. Just wait for the announcement." He sounds a bit annoyed at the end of his answer and the person just nods and doesn't ask any further.

"Lando, you were champions last year, do you think you will be again with Max leaving?"

"Max is a great driver, it is no surprise he wins."

"I think that is a negative way to ask this question."

The interview went on some more, asking about the race and plans for the summer break. Max felt a bit sad knowing that this was his last time. but thoughts about his family made him know that it was the right decision.

"As the last question, Would you support it if your child chose to be a racing driver?" The three friends look between them to pick out who would answer first and Max just nods.

"Of course. If Penelope or Sofie want to start racing, I can help them both. I take P karting sometimes with her father and she always likes it. I don't know if she wants to do it professionally, and time will tell for Sofie."

After Max puts his mic down, Lando starts. "I don't have a child now, but of course I will. Dreams are made to come true, and I support them in all of their decisions. If it is racing or not."

"As Lando said, dreams are made to be true. If Jules wants to do karting, I take him karting." They wrap up the interview and leave the room.

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Later, when Max is back home in Monaco, he enters the apartment with Sofie in his arm. "Home sweet home." He places a kiss on her forehead and puts her in the crib next to the couch.

"Can we have pizza for dinner?' Penelope asks as she goes to sit on the couch. Max looks at his wife for approval and she smiles and responds.

"Of course we can. What kind do you want?" Just when P wants to answer, her sister starts to cry and move around in her crib.

Later, when Max is back home in Monaco, he enters the apartment with Sofie in his arm, relieved to be back after the busy season. The familiar sight of their living room brings a sense of comfort as he softly whispers, "Home sweet home," planting a loving kiss on Sofie's forehead before carefully laying her down in the crib next to the couch.

Penelope eagerly plops down on the couch and asks, "Can we have pizza for dinner?" Max glances at his wife, a grin tugging at his lips, seeking her approval. Kelly replies, "Of course we can. What kind do you want?" Penelope's eyes light up with excitement as she begins to rattle off her favorite toppings.

However, the rattle is interrupted by the little girl, who starts to cry and wriggle in her crib. Max and Kelly exchange a knowing glance, immediately springing into action to tend to their baby girl's needs. Max gently scoops her up, cradling her in his arms as he softly hums a soothing tune while Kelly prepares a bottle. The apartment is filled with the soft murmur of comforting words and the gentle rustle of a diaper change.

As the night progresses, the family gathers around the dining table, with different kinds of pizza laid out before them. Sofie, now content and snug in her high chair, beams up at her family, her innocent giggles adding to the joyous ambiance.

"My mom wants to know if we are coming for Christmas." Max points out between his bites.

"I want to see Luka and Lio," P says.

"We can spend Christmas in the Netherlands and the New Year with my family." Kelly says. Max nods and lets his mother know that they will be there.

After dinner, Penelope starts to get ready for bed after an exhausting day. Max and Kelly take a seat on their couch, ready to watch a movie, before heading off to bed. Sofie had been put in the crib in the master bedroom to not get interrupted from her sleep. The two cats jump on top of the couch and nestle against their dad as he gives them pats over their heads. The night went on and the couple drifted of to sleep on the couch

In the apartment not far from theirs, Charles enters his own. His wife quickly walks up and kisses him, their dog follows behind her. "Bonsoir, chérie. " Charles kisses the top of Alex head and kneels down to pet Leo.

"Jules is sleeping, I was just waiting for you." He smiles and walks over to the baby room. Jules was sleeping in a little Ferrari sleeping suit. Charles walks over and presses a soft kiss on his head, careful not to wake him up.

"Lets get to bed."

#f1 #formule1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc #max verstappen #kelly piquet #alexandra mleux #alexandra saint mleux #karitng #racing #continue the legacy #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lestappen #lando norris

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princess-of-thebes-1995 · 7 months

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I want to really start writing love thy enemy chapter 2 but I don't know how to start it. The main point of chapter is done.

I guess I have to make this a drabble. I want to write how Reader Chan met Lyle Wainfleet.

It doesn't add up to the story. I don't want this scene to go to waste. Here you go.

You were admiring the cute little feline animal the Colonel caught for you when he was on tour in the jungle. After you began to date him. He made not only your life but your friend's lives good.

Like today, he and his elite team protected the some scientist while they collected whatever they wanted from the Pandora jungle. Risking their lives for a group of people they hate.

The Marine soldiers were curious why their leader was nice to those science pukes. Of course they couldn't ask their superior.

The Colonel was annoyed that you begged him not to make the relationship public. He felt offended. Were embarrassed to be with him? You told him how you wanted him to speak to your dad first and wait a few weeks. You never loved a man before. Minus the jerk who wanted to marry you back on Earth just for your pretty face. He broke your heart.

So, of course you have trust issues. The Colonel video chatted your dad. Your dad was actually upset. The Colonel was perhaps only ten years younger than him. Might as well be his younger brother and your uncle!

Your dad knew you liked older men. But not this old! But, your father remembered how like your mother. You and her were subjugated all their lives. A pretty doll. That's it. The young generations didn't value love and went for lust only. So, he reluctantly gave his blessings to the Colonel.

The Colonel didn't like your dad. Quaritch felt offended when he saw the rich man look at him with distaste. He didn't need to rub in his age.

Whatever. Your father was a handsome lad, Quaritch admitted. But, Quaritch also pitied the older man. He looked tired from all his philanthropy shit and childish optimism goals. Your father will kill himself from exhaustion.

Now, Quaritch would sneak around the base. Fucking the shit out of you whenever he had the chance no matter how busy you were with your work. He wanted to touch you in public like holding your hand and show affections and yes that included kissing.

From the what the Colonel told you, the feline cat already lost his mom. And you believed his men were not the reason for the mothers death.

So, you were playing with it while waiting for Max to record some video logs Jake was producing.

"Hey." A male voice boomed.

You looked up to see a shaved head Marine with muscles and tattoos. Is he a friend of Jake?

"Mind if I touch your pussy?" He grinned.

Everyone around the room became quiet. Your mouth dropped in shock. You never been insulted so bluntly and in public before. Not even on Earth!

The jerk snickered at your expression. "I meant your cat." He pointed at the now hissing feline.

You glared and stood up. He blinked and wondered what will you do. You slapped him! His face was moved to the side.

"Get away from her!" Jake yelled while he rolled his wheelchair over to you.

The bald guy turned his face back at you and held his hands up in mocking surrender. He told Jake that the Colonel wanted to speak with him.

They both left the lab and all your friends huddled over to comfort you. You were shaking and still scared that you were sexually harassed in broad daylight.

The Colonel spoke to Jake and then noticed something was off. Lyle and Jake never got along but the tension was worse. Whatever. He got enough problems on his plate.

The Colonel was upset that you were not in his office. It was his lunch break. He told you to meet him there.

He got annoyed when you didn't text back and he had enough. He rudely barged in the science wing of the other pukes. He ignored the stares when the other scientists noticed his presence in their lab bedrooms.

He kicked your door open.

He found you in your bed with that short and fat scientist Max and another female Medic rubbing your shoulder. You looked up with your teary eyes to see your secret lover.

The Colonel ordered your friends to leave.

"The Fuck were you?" His eyes softened when he saw your dead expression. Your boyfriend sat next to you in your bed.

You blurted what happened.

"What did the soldier look like?"

Quaritch was angry when you described him as his Marine.

You shrugged. "I don't know. He said you sent him to pick up Sully for a report."

In cold fury, Quaritch clenched his jaw. "Lyle." He hissed.

The Colonel grabbed your chin and made you look at him. "I am going to make us public. I don't know why you want to keep this a secret. You're not safe unless people know you belong to me."

Your eyes widened. It's too soon. You didn't tell your friends yet.

"But ..."

The Colonel's look made you shut up.

He told you how you are to go his room immediately. You better be there when he comes back. He will send female staff soldiers to bring your belongings to his quarters. Or should you say your quarters.

While you were waiting for your boyfriend at his room. The Colonel was looking for Lyle. He went to the gym. The bunks and then the pilot garage.

There stood Wainfleet and other soldiers.

When they saw the Colonel walk they saluted him with respect. The Colonel wordlessly punched Lyle in the abs which caused him to clutch his stomach from pain.

The others stared in shock.

"Stay away from my girl." Quaritch snarled as he looked down at Wainfleet's pathetic form on the ground.

Lyle looked up in confusion.

Quaritch explained. "Name belongs to me. If I catch you disrespecting her again you will be resigned from your corporal status."

He looked at the others. "That goes for the rest of you."

"Yes, Sir!" They said in unison.

You were sitting on the king sized bed of your new room. You watched buff female staff bring in your belongings and your cat was sleeping on your lap.

The Colonel came in and visibly relaxed after seeing you obey him. He didn't wait for the staff to leave. He sat next to you and kissed you. "I am sorry I couldn't protect you. But, it's your fault in a way. If everyone knew about us. They wouldn't hurt you."

You laid your head on his shoulder blade. "I'm sorry for being foolish."

He wrapped his arm around you. He knew the female staff would gossip. Good. Everyone must know who you belonged to.

He was still on his lunch break...

The Colonel smirked. He ordered the staff to leave and stripped you and noticed the cat staring at him as he nailed into you.

This was why the Colonel preferred dogs.

#avatar 2009 #avatar #dark miles quaritch #miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #yandere miles quaritch #yandere miles quaritch x reader

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strideofpride · 11 months

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Okay I can't stop thinking about the Barbie ending. Cause like as absolutely hilarious it was (the whole theater howled) it also is the perfect button for the theme of the movie, coming out of girlhood into womanhood. (this is going to be a very cis reading because, well, Greta is cis and was clearly drawing on her own cis experiences - terfs do not interact)

The first thing Barbie experiences in the real world is being catcalled and objectified, which reminds me a lot of a passage from Tina Fey's book. She talks about how she went to this women's conference when she was working on Mean Girls and they were asked how they knew they were becoming a woman. And pretty much every single one said it was when some dude said something gross to them out of a passing car. It's such a universal experience to get catcalled at 13-14-15 year's old, when your body is only just developing. And that's what Barbie also experiences first.

Then there's the scene where the Mattel men (and they're all men of course) try to put her back in the box. The shot of her hands being strapped down was so unsettling to me and I think that was Greta's intention. Maybe this is a huge reach but it almost felt like it was a metaphor for sexual assault. And I don't think it's a universal experience to be sexual assaulted, especially as a teenager, but I do think it's unfortunately still pretty common.

Then she gets back to Barbieland and has to confront the patriarchy head on, has to learn how to deal in this world catered towards men, has to learn how to develop a sense of self even though she's become depressed by the state of things. Depressed by the fact that she's changing and she doesn't know how to stop it. The "I'm not pretty anymore" moment is played for laughs cause the narrator rightfully calls out that this is an insane line to come out of Margot Robbie's mouth. But I think it speaks to going through puberty, to not feeling like you're at home in your own body anymore (hell this is the same scene where we see the Growing Up Skipper doll, a doll who's breasts can grow and shrink at her human's will - talk about body horror).

And because this is a movie centered on the hero's journey, Barbie and friends are able to get the patriarchy out of Barbieland and work towards a more equal future, but the real next step in Barbie's individual journey is seeing her creator (and this is where the gender swapped Adam/Eve myth of creation stuff really comes into full force but that's a whole other post altogether) who in a lot of ways is just Barbie's mother ("mothers stand still so daughters can look back and see how far they come" !!!!!). It's her mother figure that gets Barbie through that transition from girlhood into womanhood, who assures her that while things might not be perfect, it's still worth experiencing. (And of course there's the theme of mortality as well, that what makes the human experience special is that it's not infinite)

So that final button of Barbie going to the gynecologist for the first time is actually just the completion of her arc. I saw some people being like "I thought she was going to a job interview!" and I think that was absolutely an intentional misdirect, but I don't think her going to a job interview would've hit as hard. (For a lot of reasons, but the main one is it's a very capitalistic idea that you become an adult when you start to generate your own wealth) It had to be her going to the gynecologist, something only adults usually experience, not children. She's no longer a girl anymore, she is a woman.

#terfs do not interact #barbie spoilers #barbie

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bloodypeachblog · 4 months

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My Hazbin Hotel OC: Vendetta

(image made with NovelAI and edited by me)

Name: Vendetta (Ven) Nicknames: Babe (Vox), Sweetheart/Sweetie (Velvette), Madam/Miss Ven (Alastor), Dearest/Sparrow(Zestial), maldita perra/perra [fucking bitch/bitch] (Valentino), Venny (Niffty & Rosie) Age: ageless, but appears to be in her 20s-30s. Death year: mid to late 1980s Cause of death: decapitated due to an onstage accident Gender: Female Pronouns: She/Her Sexuality: Pansexual Height: 6'2 Weight: 164 lbs Likes: music (all but country), DJing at her club, 80s stuff, sex, TV, technology, horror movies, spiders Dislikes: Jerks, useless fights, ungrateful and disrespectful people, country music, bacon Friends: Niffty, Angel Dust, Velvette, Charlie, Vaggie, Emily, Blitzø, Loona, Octavia, Rosie, Lucifer Enemies: Adam, Lute, Stella, Valentino Frenemies: Alastor Relationships: Vox (boyfriend), Velvette (best friend), Niffty (best friend), Zestial (2nd boyfriend) Speaking/Singing Voice: Susan Egan Abilities: Super hearing: she can hear a pin drop from 2 miles away even when music is blaring. She mostly uses it to catch unruly customers at her club. Sonic Boom: a scream that can reach 160 decibels and extend over 200 miles, causing massive damage, even physical. She can wipe out an entire city if she screams loud enough. Telepathy/technology interference: her headphones can play the thoughts of whoever she wants into her ears, they can also pick up any phone calls or radio/tv signals (audio only, of course). Killer Queen: She can summon black long arms and hands and use them in fights, from binding an opponent up to ripping them to pieces. She can manipulate them by using her own arms and hands (kinda like Nico Robin's Hana Hana no Mi from One Piece). ~~~~more under read more~~~~

Her personality and wit are a mix of Meg from Disney's Hercules and Chel from the Road to El Dorado, but she can be kind, sweet, and loving to people she cares about. Just don't make her mad, or your dead body is for dinner.

She runs Hell's music industry and she owns a majority of singers' souls in it, an example being Verosika Mayday. She treats her souls fairly and like they're people instead of possessions, but she won't hesitate to put an ungrateful bitch in their place.

She wouldn't call Alastor a friend, nor an enemy. She is civil when they interact, and she has nothing too personal against Alastor. She just doesn't like his uncaring attitude.

Alastor has no ill will on Vendetta and allows her to run her radio station, as long as she doesn't overstep her boundaries and try to take down/take over his radio station. They even collab on music sometimes, making electro swing works

Vox and her have been dating for eons, she isn't too keen on Valentino, who Vox is friends with benefits with, but tolerates him because of Vox.

Ven despises how Val treats the souls he owns, any of his workers, or even the other Vees, especially Vox.

She tries to keep Val from absolutely pummeling Angel Dust, and if unsuccessful, she treats Angel's wounds and comforts him.

Velvette and her are close, almost like sisters. They hang out and gossip whenever they can.

She makes her own music under her record label, Baphomet Records, playing it on the radio stations, music videos, and at her club.

Her and Niffty are best friends, Ven absolutely adoring Niffty. Niffty thinks she's really fun to hang out with. If you just looked at them together, you'd think they were related, like aunt and niece or mother and daughter.

Ven sometimes visits Rosie and they talk over cannibalistic lunches. Ven likes to buy meat from Rosie's store from time to time. Girl's gotta eat.

Vox and her are very close and very loving to each other. Val may be Vox's fuck buddy, but Ven is his true love.

She has 2 tv shows, including a TRL style show, where she shows the latest music videos. She also has a talk show where she talks about various topics and answers questions asked by viewers, sometimes having interviews and special guests. She even broadcasts the audio on her radio station.

Vox has Val as a fuck buddy, Ven has Zestial. The only difference is that Zestial actually cares about Ven, where Val couldn't give less of a shit about Vox.

She calls Vox 'Voxxy', Velvette 'Vel', Zestial 'Zest' and Valentino 'Mothman', 'Moth-brain', or just 'Asshole'.

one time, she saw Val abuse one of his souls and Ven called him pathetic and weak because he only uses violence to establish dominance instead of using respect. When he hit her in response, she took it like a champ, not even flinching, proving her point.

All of Ven's music equipment was provided by VoxTek. The nightclub even has VoxTek as one of its investors. Vox had offered to give it to her for free, but Ven feels better paying for it to support him. She does get good discounts tho.

the kind of music she makes: [SCRATON - Another Girl] [Madeon - Imperium] [Porter Robinson - Unison (Knife Party Remix)], [Madeon - Pop Culture]

Her and Zestial are very close, like almost husband and wife close. They definitely fuck, but they help each other out with anything bothering them. Like, they lay in bed and talk about anything after they have sex. Vox is pretty jealous about this, but he has Val, so he can't say shit. But he has told Zestial that if anything happened to him and he wasn't around anymore, he'd trust Zestial to take care of Ven.

When Ven was alive, she witnessed the AIDS epidemic firsthand and lost many friends due to it. When she entered Hell, she was an advocate for HIV/AIDS awareness. She doesn't promote condoms or anything like that (she would, but since who in Hell is gonna use them? Do they even exist down there?), but more like awareness, like 'hey, make sure you know what your partner has before you go and have fun, cuz otherwise your afterlife's gonna suck!' kind of stuff.

Her weapons are the following: An angel spear and an angel gun she took off of a few dead angels from Extermination Day. She easily gets the angel bullets from the black market. She also has a regular 1911 pistol and a silver dagger. She only uses the angel gun for instances where she wants the target to never come back, or absolute emergencies. More headcanons will be posted as time goes on! Feel free to ask any questions about her you have! Taglist: @omniuravity, @fatgumsurpremacy-remastered, @neonvehk

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin oc #hazbin original character #vivziepop oc

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allycat75 · 4 months

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Some dos and (mostly) don'ts for the upcoming Comic Con, Boston Dumb Fuck.

So I don't know if your handlers have had a chance to program you for the event yet or if they are waiting for a software update, but here are some tips for your trip to Seattle.

When you smile, try to have it reach a little up your face. You could scare the children with your hollow, soulless eyes. You may have become an automaton, but these people paid good money so try to look and act like a human male. And stay off the weed- makes any chance of a sparkle disappear.

When speaking, try to avoid the "ok" sign, or even the Italian thing you do sometimes with the fingers together (🤌)*. It's too close to the sign the smug wifey likes to flash with her close Nazi buddies. You are already tied to her and carry around a certain amount of shame for that, don't need to make it worse by appearing like you are a true believer now.

Don't mention your inconsequential political site. These folks just want a picture with the dude who once played Captain America. They don't care about you and your vain extra curriculars.

At the same time, don't play too much into the Captain America role. You signed on for this fake marriage with the antisemetic, racist wifey to reset your image (I guess?) and you cannot claim any similarity or want for similarity or admiration for the character, when you embody everything he would be ashamed of.

Don't try to get your feminist street cred back by wishing people a good Women's History Month. That ship has sailed for you.

As much as I hate seeing that liars ring, keep your left hand out of your pocket. You look like you are diddling yourself and people don't need more reasons to try to label you as a p**vert. We all know you are an "alone guy" and maybe that is what you do back at the hotel, although with its dubious metal composition, I don't recommend getting that piece of jewelry too close to your junk. It could cause sterility...On second thought, whack away, rub, rub, rub with good old lefty. Do society a favor. You are enough of a child for you to raise.

Of course you could forgo the ring altogether (in unison "You could forgo the ring". Sorry, I had to do that. My dad trained me too well watching "Airplane"). Have the OFFICIAL break up announcement come out before the con. Garner some sympathy. Begin to remove all reference of her. But don't forget that this does little to clear your karmic debt or repair the pathetic shreds of your life. You have a long road to travel, if you chose to do better. Leaving this debacle is only the first step. No matter the narrative being told, the only thing for certain is that you are a major liar who has selfishly hid behind his privlege to get what he wants, no matter the collateral damage.

If you are in real trouble and are in need of serious help, send us the message by wearing your California cap and we'll come running. Maybe. You've been a real shit and may not derserve it. We'll have to assemble a coterie of mods to discuss your fate, like in a Wes Anderson movie. Any mods interested?

If, on the other hand, you are ok but would like to acknowledge you have been a manipulative, selfish sack of White Privleged shit who needs to actively work to become a trustworthy, authentic person and make amends, wear the NASA cap.

Well, that's all I can think of for now. Enjoy the coffee up there in the Emerald City, if you are into coffee that week, you Mercurial mother fucker! 👋

*PS- I would like to clarify that I am in no way equating one gesture with another. My intent was that, in this case, there is a likely possibility the Italian gesture could be taken out of context and skewed to look like the beginning of a WP sign because of BDF's association with the little Nazi twit. Photshop has been used before, why would it not be used for this nefarious purpose? Even these simple and inert gestures can become weapons in the wrong hands.

But I should have been more careful and I sincerely apologize to anyone I offended. I tell BDF to do better, but unlike him, I am not a hypocrite so I will follow my own advice. Thank you to those who politely called me out and I hope this helps.

#brian wilson vibes #ai in human form #you are the company you keep #i hate manipulation #i don't like hypocrites #do better #liars suck!

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undiscovered-horizon · 2 years

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"Even closer behind" - Riddler x Reader

[TW: murder, gore, blood, explicit language, jealousy/possessiveness]

SUMMARY: Some guy won't stop texting you so Ed decides to take things into his hands. For better or worse, your problem is gone, well, permanently.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.4k

A/N: give "Hungry Like The Wolf" - Hidden Citizens, Tim Halperin a listen! Inspired by the weird DMs I've gotten on Reddit

Sender: [email protected] Subject: pls respond i'm sorry pls Message: i'm sorry pls give me a 2nd chance it was stupid to spam you god pls i will do anything for you pls text me back im sorry im so pathetic pls pls pls ill be better pls

Your frustrated groan pulled Ed away from his work.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he asked nervously. Ed may have appeared quite collected but in his frenzied mind, he was already playing out tragic scenarios in which you leave him. Everyone said that you were "settling" for him, so maybe you have finally believed them?

"A minor inconvenience, really," you answered with a sigh. "There's this guy, Luke, he's a friend of a friend and keeps asking me out." Ed's heart might have literally stopped at those words. He wasn't stupid, maybe naive at times, so he knew that other people would see that alluring perfection you had flowing through your veins - the same unholy particle that made him lose his mind completely and swear unwavering devotion to you. Sooner or later, someone was going to try to steal you from him and Ed was well aware of that. "I told him 'no' like hundreds of times and ended up blocking his number but he's like an actual cockroach! Like today, he spammed me with e-mails that basically boiled down to him having a meltdown over me dating some jerk and never giving the good guy a chance. He made up a whole scenario in which he's the victim and then got upset with me about it! Damn, I wish I had his mother's phone number so I could send her screenshots."

Ed struggled to swallow. His hand was gripping the pen tight enough to begin to shake. At that point he wasn't even angry - all reason had already left him and now his headspace was only filled with weirdly tranquil bloodthirst. At that moment, the entire world was but white noise, some static that distracted him from his goal. All possibilities for the murder were playing out in his head, a high-pitched ringing in his ears was the only sound he could hear. No one else could have you.

"I'm gonna take a nap," you announced suddenly. "You're welcome to join whenever you're finished."

He watched as you lay on his couch and pulled one of his jackets over your shoulders. For a moment he really did consider taking a break but Ed knew that there was a more pressing matter he had to tend to immediately.

For a man of his size, Ed expected Luke to be a little harder to take down and bind. The, theoretically speaking, hardest part of his plan, turned out to be greatly unexciting but maybe it was for the better - he will have more strength for the delicious main course.

"Before we get to the main event, let's play a little game, shall we?" Ed spoke while circling Luke who was taped to a chair. "I'll give you a riddle and you'll solve it. If you get it right, I'll kill you."

"And... if I don't?" the man asked. His voice was shaky, panic already gnawing at his reason. It seemed as if the longer he stared at the masked face, the less sane he became.

"I'll kill you too, only sooner. So, let's get to." Ed clapped his hands and rubbed them in excitement. "I am always near and never far. I am often avoided but always catch up. I will come when you're old and grey or maybe even the very next day. I come in many forms whether it's irony, love, laughter, or hate. I am everyone's final fate."

Luke stared at Ed in confusion, too terrified to even begin deciphering the riddle. His mind was more focused on delaying his upcoming death rather than on the words that had just left Ed's mouth. Aside from overwhelming fear, Luke's mind was completely blank.

"What the fuck, man?!" Luke yelled out desperately. It all seemed like a sick joke, something too demented to be the candid thoughts of a human being.

"Not even close, Luke." Ed shook his head. "Are you trying at all?! You can't be that stupid, come on!"

"Fuck, man, I don't know! Let me go, you psycho!"

"Luke, Luke, Luke... why are you making things hard for yourself? Would it hurt to finally use your brain after all those years?"

"Fuck you!" he yelled spitting out some blood. Ed really landed that hit with the bat.

A tense silence fell for a moment. It was probably that very moment, the calm quietness of the executioner, that made Luke realize his imminent fate. Ed admired the fear and resignation in the man's eyes.

"Fine."

Ed stretched out a long piece of silver tape and began taping around Luke's head, leaving only a small gap for the man's nostrils - if he died of asphyxiation, a little too fast for Ed's liking, the whole sentiment of the ordeal would have been lost.

Luke thrashed, at least as much as he could while being severely restrained. His frantic movements momentarily stopped as he heard the shriek of metal - a blade had either been pulled out or someone was sharpening it very slowly.

Without hesitation or fear, Ed stabbed Luke's abdomen. The man began thrashing again, only worsening his wound.

"You have to pay for what you've done, Luke. Those are the rules."

Blood gushed out of the open wound after Ed had taken the blade out. His hand trembled but not with fear, no - it was excitement, some primal passion for taking lives that fairly quickly pushed out his self-control.

When Ed raised his hand again, preparing for another blow, it was as if the world ceased to exist: it was only him, his blind range and the asshole that dared to try to steal something that belonged to Ed and Ed only.

Spiralling into ferocious, frenzied hunger, Ed began frantically stabbing Luke, his hand driving the blade inside the man's stomach only to pull it out right away. He was too far gone to even begin to realize that his arm was beginning to ache:

"You can't have her. You can never have her! No one can have her! I won't let you steal her away from me. She's mine, mine, mine!"

By the end of his tantrum, Luke's insides were already mush, stabbed into an impressionist's grotesque vision of entrails. There was blood on his clothes as well as little bits and pieces of Luke's organs. Justice was done, all that was left now was peace.

He was about to leave the condo, let life take its course but suddenly he remembered your words - that if you could, you would have sent Luke's mother evidence of her son's antics. Yes, he could do that for you...

Ed reached for the dead man's phone and used the corpse's still warm finger to unlock it. Having taken at least ten photographs, all at different angles to broaden their artistic scope, and then hit 'send'.

The heavy rain was thundering against the windows and so there was no point in Ed going out of his way to enter the apartment as quietly as he could. Nevertheless, he did his best. Peeking into the living room turned study, he saw you laying still on the couch - still asleep, covered with one of his jackets. Your face was so soft, so undisturbed. Exactly the way it should be.

Ed was happy to announce that the vermin was gone and he wasn't going to disturb you any longer. In fact, he was happy enough to be ready to wake you up the moment he came back home but he knew better - you needed some rest.

Carefully, not to wake you up, he removed the jacket you were sleeping under. Ed lay down on the couch with you, wrapping his arms tightly around you as if you were going to walk out the door any second. He listened to your steady, shallow breaths and calm heartbeat. You were there, with him, the only way it should ever be; the only way he'll allow it to be.

He was going to make you feel happy, proud and loved - even if it was the last thing he would do in his life.

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