#// it is her nickname she just doesn't like it

[rafayelxsylusho]

Hello ♥️ I love your fics so much!! 😩 I don’t know if you take requests…but if you do could I request the LADS guys reacting to seeing you without panties on under your dress/skirt? 😈

Ohhhh I really liked this idea.

I'll work on the other three today and post them as soon as I can.

Enjoy!!!

Calebxreader

Rafayelxreader

TW:SMUT

How do the LADS men react when they see you without panties under your skirt/dress Part 1 (Caleb)(Rafayel)

Caleb's gaze drifts over to you as you sit across from him at the dinner table, a smile playing on his lips. The aroma of your favorite meal, freshly cooked by his own hands, wafts through the air between you.

"You know, I remember when you used to beg me to make this every week, you'd come running into the kitchen, skipping and laughing, and throw your arms around me until I agreed." His eyes glimmer with a distant memory, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "You were so cute back then, so full of life and energy. I could never say no to you."

"You still can't" said Gran, who sits beside him, with a knowing smile. Her eyes crinkle at the corners as she takes a sip of her drink, setting the glass down gently on the white tablecloth.

"You're right, Gran," Caleb agrees, turning his attention back to you. His gaze is intense, a mix of fondness and something darker, more possessive. "I still can't say no to her. Never could."

He picks up his fork to start eating but accidentally pushes his spoon to the floor with his elbow. He leans down, his chair scraping softly against the hardwood floor as he bends to retrieve the fallen spoon under the table. His eyes can't help but wander over your legs. They trail up your calves, over your knees, and come to a sharp halt when he notices something that makes his heart skip a beat. Or rather, the lack of something. His eyes linger for a moment, drinking in the expanse of smooth, tanned thigh that's been revealed by your slightly spread legs.

Straightening up, he sets the spoon on the table, his movements deliberate and slow. There's a new tension in the set of his shoulders, a coiled energy that wasn't there before. As he takes his seat once more, he doesn't meet your eyes right away. Instead, he busies himself with his own plate, cutting into the tender meat with precise, almost angry strokes. But as he lifts his fork to his mouth, his gaze finally meets yours. There's a depth of emotion swirling in those violet eyes, feelings he can barely contain. Desire, possessiveness, a desperate longing that borders on obsession. It's all there, laid bare for you to see.

His grip tightens on the fork, knuckles turning white as he fights the sudden, overwhelming urge to toss it aside. To lean across the table, to take your face in his hands...and claim your mouth with his own.

Caleb's eyes darken with lust as he watches the sensual movement of your throat as you swallow. The sound of your moan, sweet and breathy makes his heart beat against his ribs like a caged animal desperate to break free. "Does it taste as good as you remember? "I made it just the way you like it," he murmurs, leaning forward slightly. "I remember everything about what you like, pipsqueak." His tone is teasing, but there's also something darker on the way he says your old nickname.

"It's delicious Caleb" said Gran, before you had a chance to answer him, breaking the tension between you.

He sits back in his chair, trying to compose himself even as his heart continues to race. He can't let Gran see the true depths of his feelings, the all consuming love and lust that threatens to swallow him whole.

"That's great, Gran," he says, his voice only slightly strained. "I'm glad you both like it." He forces a smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Those violet eyes remain focused on you, even as he tries to engage in the conversation.

"Remember when you and Y/n used to fight over the last piece of meat?" Gran asks, a fond smile on her face. "You two were always so competitive, especially when it came to food."

Caleb's smile tightens "Yeah," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. "I always made sure she got the last piece. No matter what." His tone is light, but there's another meaning beneath the words. A promise.

You look over at Gran, a bright smile on your face when you say "Gran, I'm meeting up with a friend tonight. We had plans to go out since friday" You stand up, gathering your dirty dishes and silverware. "I'll just put these in the kitchen and then I should get ready."

Caleb watches, his eyes glued to your every move as you carry your dishes to the kitchen. The sway of your hips, the gentle bounce of your hair with each step...it's all seared into his mind.

He forces himself to turn to Gran, to keep up the pretense of a normal conversation. But his mind is elsewhere, already conjuring up a dozen ways he could stop you. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Caleb stands in your doorway, his tall frame filling the space. His hair is still slightly damp from a recent shower. His arms are crossed over his broad chest as he watches you get ready. His eyes follow your every movement, from the way you brush your long black hair, to the quick application of makeup.

"Did you forget," he says, his voice low and slightly accusatory, "that you had to do the dishes and I had to do the cooking?"

He steps into your room, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, sound. The space suddenly feels smaller, the air thicker, with his presence dominating every inch of it.  He reaches out and plucks the hairbrush from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. "Here," he says softly, holding the brush. "Let me help you finish getting ready."

You look up at Caleb, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes as you take the hairbrush from his hand. "I didn't forget," you say, your voice a bit sharp. "I just got distracted. Besides, I thought you had more important things to do than keep track of whose turn it is to do the dishes." You turn back to the mirror, running the brush through your hair with more force than necessary. "And I didn't ask for your help," you add, "I think I can handle getting ready on my own."

Caleb watches as you finish brushing your hair, his eyes never leaving your reflection in the mirror. He sees the flicker of irritation in your gaze, hears the sharpness in your tone. As you turn to leave, he clears his throat, his voice a low rumble that stops you in your tracks. "You're forgetting something, pipsqueak," he says, a hint of that old teasing to his tone. But there's something darker, something that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

He takes two long strides towards you, closing the distance between your bodies in an instant. His large hands find your waist, strong fingers splaying possessively over the curve of your hips. He pulls you back against his chest, your body molding to the hard planes of his own like two puzzle pieces clicking into place.

In the mirror, your eyes meet, locking in a charged gaze. You feel his hands fist the fabric of your skirt. He pulls and tugs, the skirt riding higher and higher on your thighs with each yank of his wrists. The cool air of the room brushes against the newly exposed skin, sending a shiver racing up your spine.

"Caleb..." you protest, your voice a mortified whisper as you feel your skirt being hiked up past your thighs. But he doesn't listen, his eyes never leaving yours in the mirror as he exposes you completely.

Your blush deepens as you watch, uncomfortably aroused, as he finally reaches the hem of your skirt. The fabric pools around your waist, leaving your bare cunt on full display in the reflection. The sight of your glistening folds, makes your heart race and your core clench.

Caleb's breath grows heavier, his chest rising and falling more rapidly against your back. His grip on your hips tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you in place, trapping you against him. His eyes, dark and hungry, rove over your reflection, taking in every intimate detail.

"Were you really planning on going out like this?" he asks, "Or were you just trying to tease me...again?" His fingers flex, digging into your hipbones hard. He leans in closer, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "I've told you before, pipsqueak. If you want something...ask for it."

His eyes bore into yours in the mirror, a intensity burning in their violet depths. Ask me, they seem to say. Ask me to touch you to taste you, to claim you again. Beg me to fuck you until you can't walk straight.

He watches as your lips part, your breath coming in short, sharp pants. He waits, his heart pounding in his chest as he anticipates your response. Say it, he thinks. Say you want me. Say you need me. Beg me to touch you like I've been dying to.

"I...I..." you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. He smirks, a curve to his lips as he watches you struggle to form words. So cute, so innocent, he thinks. He leans in closer, his teeth nipping your ear as he whispers, "Go on, pipsqueak. Say it."

"Caleb...please" you whimper, your voice barely audible but dripping with desperate need. It's all the encouragement he needs. Caleb reaches down and slowly lowers the zipper of your skirt and it slides down your legs until it pools at your feet, leaving you bare from the waist down. And just as quickly, Caleb makes short work of his own clothes. His shirt joins your skirt on the floor, followed by his jeans and underwear. His cock springs free, thick and hard and already leaking at the tip.

Before you can do anything he takes your hand, his fingers curling around yours as he leads you to the chair where you sat just moments ago. He sits down, his bare skin warming the cool leather, and pulls you to stand between his spread thighs. The heat of his body envelops you, making your own skin prickle with awareness.

He looks up at you, his eyes glinting with a dark, possessive light as he takes in your reflection . His hands come to rest on your hips, fingers splaying over the bare flesh of your ass as he holds you in place. Mine, his eyes seem to say as they rove over your naked form.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his voice a sensual rumble. "So fucking beautiful. And all mine." His hands slide around to your front, one coming to rest low on your belly while the other cups your mound possessively. "This is what you do to me, baby. This is what you make me want."

Caleb moves his hands to grip your hips once again as he slowly lowers you onto his lap. His cock, hard and thick, slides between your folds, the thick head nudging against your entrance. You feel the heat of him, the pulsing of his flesh against your most intimate place, and it makes your head swim with need.

A moan escapes your lips as he settles you fully in his lap, his thick shaft nestled snugly between your thighs. Your back arches, pressing your breasts out as you throw your head back against his shoulder. Caleb's lips find your neck, pressing hot kisses to the sensitive skin as his hands roam your curves.

"Fuck, baby," he groans against your neck, his hips rocking up slightly to grind his cock against your dripping slit. "You feel so fucking good. So hot and wet and ready for me."

Caleb's hands slide up your sides, his fingers skimming over your skin until they reach the hem of your shirt. Without pausing, he tugs it upwards, exposing your flat stomach and the cute little belly button that sits above your cunt but he doesn't stop there, he keeps going, pulling the shirt and your bra up and over your breasts until they spring free, bouncing slightly from the sudden release. Your tits, perfect handfuls are now on full display in the mirror. The cool air of the room makes your nipples tighten and pucker, begging for attention. His hands cup the soft mounds, his fingers sinking into the pliant flesh as he squeezes and kneads. His thumbs brush over your nipples, teasing the sensitive peaks until they're stiff peaks.

"Fuck, look at these perfect tits," Caleb groans, watching your reflection as he plays with your breasts. "They're even more gorgeous than I remember. I can't wait to get my mouth on them, to suck and bite and mark your beautiful skin." He rolls your nipples between his fingers, pinching and tugging on the sensitive buds as he rocks his hips up against you. His cock slides between your folds once again.

"Oh god", you whimper, feeling your pussy clench and flutter around nothing. "Oh fuck, Caleb"  Your hips start to move on their own, grinding down against the hard length of him as your body craves more stimulation. The mirror reflects your desperation, your tits bouncing in his hands as he teases and pleases you.

Caleb's voice is a commanding growl in your ear. "Lift your hips, baby. Just a little bit, that's it." You feel his fingers around your throat, his large hand spanning the delicate column of your neck. His other hand slides down your body, over the soft swell of your belly, to wrap around your thigh. He squeezes the supple flesh, his fingers sinking in as he spreads your leg wider, opening you up to him. You feel the cool air against your dripping core, making you shiver.

Caleb takes advantage of your new position to line himself up with your entrance. The thick head of his cock nudges against your folds, slipping between them to catch on your hole. You feel the heat of him, the hard, throbbing flesh pulsing with need.

"Watch, baby," Caleb commands, "Watch as I claim this pretty little cunt. Watch as I make this pretty pussy mine."

He starts to push forward, his hips rocking up as he sinks into you inch by inch. The mirror allows you to see every moment, every second of your joining. You watch, as your body stretches around his thick cock, your walls fluttering and clenching as they struggle to accommodate his size. Caleb's eyes bore into yours, his gaze intense and consuming. Mine he thinks, watching your expression morph with pleasure. This is what you were made for, baby. To take my cock, to milk it with this greedy little cunt. His hand tightens around your throat, not enough to cut off air, but enough to make you feel owned, claimed, possessed.

Caleb starts to thrust up into you, his hips rocking and rolling as he drives his thick cock deeper and deeper into your tight, clenching heat. And you find yourself meeting his thrusts, your own hips rolling as you take him in. The mirror shows you every detail of his thick cock disappearing between your thighs, only to reappear coated in your arousal.

Caleb keeps your leg spread wide, his hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises. He holds you open, keeping you in place as he fucks into you with deep, powerful strokes. The other hand remains wrapped around your throat, his thumb pressing lightly against your racing pulse.

"Fuck baby," Caleb groans, his voice ragged and rough with lust. "Your pussy feels so fucking good. So hot and tight and perfect." He punctuates each word with a sharp thrust, his pelvis slamming against you as he bottoms out inside you. You can see it, see the way your body swallows him up, see the thick ring of milky white arousal forming at the base of his shaft where he's stretching you open. It's filthy, it's obscene, but it's so fucking hot.

His thrusts become more urgent, more insistent, as he chases his own release. The mirror reflects your bouncing tits, the flesh jiggling and swaying with each powerful surge of his hips. Your mouth is open, soft gasps and whimpers spilling from your lips as you lose yourself in the sensation.

Caleb's eyes are glued to your reflection, watching your every reaction. He sees the way your head lolls back, your eyes glazed over with lust. He sees the string of drool leaking from the corner of your mouth. "Fuck, look at you," a surge of pride and possessiveness rushing through his veins. "Look at how much you love taking my cock."

"Tell me, baby, didn't you wear any panties today, just to tease me? To make me want to bend you over and fuck this pussy raw?" Caleb grins wickedly as you nod, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "That's my girl" he says, feeling a thrill of satisfaction at the knowledge that you deliberately left your pussy bare and exposed, just for him. "Such a naughty little tease, getting me all worked up."

"Keep your legs open for me, baby," Caleb orders, his hand squeezing your thigh harder as he spreads you wider. "I want to watch this pretty cunt as I make you come all over my cock." Then you hear him spit, the cool wetness drips down between the valley of your breasts, trailing down your stomach before dripping onto your pussy. Without wasting a second, Caleb smears the spit around your clit, using it as lubricant. His fingers circle the sensitive nub, rubbing tight, quick circles as he feels your body tensing. Your clit swells under his touch, peeking out from beneath its hood as he strokes and teases and pleasures you. He keeps rubbing, as his hips never stop their rhythm. The mirror shows your body shaking, your tits bouncing, your mouth open in a silent scream as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. Caleb feels your scream building, hears the way your breath hitches and catches in your throat. In a flash, he brings the hand that was on your throat up to cover your mouth, silencing your cries before they can escape and alert Gran of your activities.

But then your teeth sink into the flesh of his palm, biting down hard enough to make him hiss in pained surprise. The sudden, sharp sensation sends a jolt of adrenaline through his body, pushing him over the precipice. Your orgasm crashes over you, your body seizing and shaking as ecstasy whites out your mind. Your cunt clamps down around his cock, walls rippling and fluttering as they try to milk him for all he's worth.

The feeling of your pussy spasming around him, combined with the throbbing ache of your bite,its too much for Caleb. With a moan that he muffles against your hair, he hilts himself inside you and lets go. Thick, hot ropes of cum paint your insides as Caleb's cock pulses and throbs. His hips jerk and stutter, spurting his seed deep inside your cunt as he fills you with his essence. It seems to go on forever, wave after wave of thick, sticky cum pumping into your hole as Caleb marks you, claims you, makes you his.

As the intense waves of your shared orgasms start to fade, you feel Caleb's lips press soft kisses along the column of your neck. His touch is gentle now, almost reverent.

You can feel the thick mix of your combined releases starting to leak out around where you're joined, your over sensitive flesh twitching at the sensation. Caleb's fingers find the source of the dripping wetness, gathering some of the pearly essence on his fingertips.

"Open up, baby," Caleb whispers as he removes his hand from your mouth. "Taste us. Taste what we made together." His fingers press against your lower lip, smearing the sticky fluid across the soft flesh. Almost unconsciously, you part your lips, allowing him access to your mouth. Caleb takes advantage, slipping his finger past your lips to rest on your tongue. The taste of your combined releases floods your senses, the slightly bitter, salty flavor of his cum mixed with the sweeter, tangier essence of your arousal. It's an intoxicating combination that makes your head swim.

"Fuck, that's so hot," Caleb groans, watching your face intently as you suck on his finger. "Seeing you taste our cum, taste the proof of how good we are together."

He slips out of you making you flinch "You better get ready now, pipsqueak, you don't want to be late for whatever plans you have today. But..." His hand tightens in your hair, tugging lighly.

"...when you come back home to me, I'll be waiting. I'll be here, ready to pick up right where we left off." Caleb's other hand slides down to grip your hip possessively, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh. "We only have a few days together, after all. And I plan to make every single second count."

Rafayel's hands gripped the steering wheel tighter as he navigated through the crowded city streets, slower than necessary. The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"You know," he began, voice laced with a touch of impatience but also a hint of something softer, "you could have just stayed home and I would have understood" His finger tapped an erratic rhythm against the wheel, and he sighed. "I just...I wish we had more time together, just the two of us. Without all this..." He waved a hand vaguely at the windshield, as if gesturing to the world beyond the car.

"Tell you what cutie," he said, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes "if you give me a good enough reason, we can turn around right now. Leave all this nonsense behind and find somewhere... more private."

His lips curved into a playful smirk, a silent invitation hanging in the air between you. The car rolled to a stop at a red light, and Rafayel cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised in question. Waiting. Always waiting for your response.

"Nooooo, you actually need to show up this time Rafayel," you say as you looked inside your purse for your lipstick.

"I know, I know," he muttered, more to himself than to you. "You're right, of course. I can't just...skip it." He trailed off, jaw clenched tight.

The light turned green, and Rafayel pressed down on the accelerator, the car lurching forward. He gripped the wheel tighter. "I just...I hate all the pretension. The fake smiles, the insincere compliments..." He shook his head, a look of distaste on his handsome face. "I'd rather spend the time with you, not stuck in some stuffy room filled with people I don't know."

"Have you seen my lipstick? I swear I left it here the last time I used it." You asked still looking through your purse

"Yes, it's back there somewhere..." he murmured. Rafayel watched as you hastily unbuckled your seatbelt, leaning over to rummage through the backseat. He couldn't help but let his gaze linger on the tantalizing curve of your back. Suddenly, you let out a small 'ah!' of triumph and straightened up, holding the tube of lipstick. In doing so, you lose balance for a moment. His eyes widened as he noticed your dress riding up, revealing the tantalizing sight of your bare skin above the seat of your panties... except there were no panties. His foot slipped off the accelerator, the car momentarily slowing.

For a moment, he forgot about the traffic, the show, everything. The world narrowed down to the sight of your exposed skin, the absence of any fabric that should have been there. He swallowed hard, a wave of heat coursed through him, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter to stop his hand from reaching out to touch. He wanted to trail his fingers up the smooth skin of your thigh, to feel the warmth beneath his palm.

"Cutie..." he breathed out, voice low and rough with sudden desire. He tore his gaze away from the tempting view, forcing himself to focus on the road. But he couldn't unsee the image burned into his mind.

Rafayel took a deep breath, trying to regain his composure as he watched you sit back down and apply your lipstick, oblivious to the effect your little display had on him. He swallowed hard, his pants suddenly feeling far too tight and constricting. He forced his gaze back to the road, but he could still see you in his peripheral vision, the way your lips pursed and pressed together as you applied the color. He imagined tasting that lipstick, tasting you, and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Almost there," he muttered, more to himself than to you. He just needed to get through this damn show, and then...then he could focus on indulging in the fantasies running wild through his imagination.

He parked the car in the furthest spot from the gallery entrance, the tires crunching on the gravel as he brought the vehicle to a stop. He turned to you, a grin spreading across his face, eyes glinting with mischief. He reached out, tracing a finger lightly along your jawline, tilting your chin up towards him. His thumb brushed over your newly applied lipstick, smearing the vibrant color slightly.

"Mm, I like this shade," he murmured, voice low and flirtatious. "It reminds me of the color of your lips when I've kissed you breathless...on all of your lips. You see, I remember exactly what you look like, all pink and swollen and glistening, when I've had my face buried between your thighs for hours," his voice was a low, hypnotic rumble. "When I've licked and sucked and teased your clit until you're writhing and begging for release. His hand slid down to your knee, fingers trailing up along your inner thigh, inching higher and higher. His touch was electric, setting off sparks of pleasure that raced through your veins. He watched the blush spread across your cheeks, your thighs clenching together at his bold words. He leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off his skin, could smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne.His fingers inched higher up your thigh, his touch bold and purposeful. You knew that somehow he had figured out your little secret. The heat in his gaze told you that much.

"Open your legs for me, cutie, let me see those pretty lips again, the ones that are hiding from me right now." His hand slid higher, fingertips grazing the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs. He didn't touch you directly, not yet, but he was close. So close that you could feel the anticipation building, could feel your core starting to throb with need.

"Come on," he purred, "don't make me wait. I know you're not wearing anything under that dress. I saw a glimpse of paradise back there."

He licked his lips, eyes gleaming with hunger. "Now be a good girl and open up for me, like you did last night when I had you spreading yourself wide open on my tongue."

His breath hitched as you slowly parted your thighs for him, revealing your bare pussy. His eyes darkened with lust at the sight. "Fuck,..." he breathed, voice rough with desire. "Look at you, so pretty and pink and ready for me." His fingers traced teasingly along your slit, not quite touching, just barely grazing your skin.

Rafayel didn't seem to care about the growing crowd in the parking lot. His focus was solely on you, on the sight of your bare cunt glistening in the fading light. He leaned in closer, the leather of his car seat creaking as he pulled it back giving himself more room.

He slid his hands under your thighs, gripping them tightly as he pulled you closer to the edge of your seat. Your dress rode up around your waist, fully exposing your bare, glistening sex to his eyes.

"Wrap your legs around my shoulders," he commanded, settling between your thighs. "I'm going to make you cum so hard, you won't care if the whole fucking world sees." His hands gripped your lower back tightly as he pulled you up and forward, your head resting on the armrest, your legs draping over his shoulders. He could feel the heat radiating off your core, could smell your intoxicating arousal. It made his cock throb and ache with the need to be inside you.

"Fuck, I can smell how much you want this," he groaned, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh. "You're fucking drenched. So wet and ready for me." He leaned in closer, his tongue darting out to take a long, slow lick up your slit. He moaned at the taste of you, his eyes fluttering shut in bliss. "Delicious," he murmured, before diving back in for more.

"Oh god, Rafayel!" you gasped, back arching off the seat as his tongue delved deep into your aching core. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tight as jolts of electricity raced through your body. His hands kneaded the globes of your ass, pulling you harder against his mouth, his tongue plunging in and out of your soaked pussy.

Rafayel glanced up, taking in the now crowded parking lot. The closest car was a few spaces away, but still within clear view of anyone who cared to look in your direction. He could see people already heading towards the gallery entrance but he was too far gone to care. All he could focus on was the intoxicating taste of you on his tongue, the way your body trembled and quaked beneath his touch.

He licks you again, this time slower, he flattens his tongue and licks you from the bottom up, going particularly slow over your pulsating clit. The pressure builds as he finally does what he knows will be your undoing. His tongue swirled up to your clit with the perfect amount of pressure and you loose yourself to him and the thrashing of his tongue on your clit. The coil deep in your stomach curled painfully tight when he sucked your clit into his mouth, a strangled cry escapes you as your body falls over the edge, he plunges two fingers inside of you as you cum, and the bliss is catastrophic. You no longer cared to hold back the scream or to stop your thighs from clamping his head firmly between them.

"That's it, cutie," he praised, voice rough and ragged. "Fucking soak my face. I want everyone to know I'm the one who made you feel this good."

He didn't let up until your body went boneless, slumping back against the seat, chest heaving as you gasped for air. Only then did he pull back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a smug and thoroughly satisfied grin on his face. Rafayel quickly tugged your dress down, covering your cunt as he fumbled for his phone on the console between the seats. He put it on speaker and dialed Thomas's number, his thumb hovering over the call button.

Thomas picked up on the second ring, his voice filtering through the car's speakers. "Hello? Rafayel? We were starting to think you wouldn't make it to-"

"Hey, listen," Rafayel interrupted, his voice still rough from his exertions. "I need you to do me a favor. I...I won't be able to make it to the show tonight, something came up." He shot a meaningful glance at your flushed appearance, biting back a smirk.

"Tell everyone I apologize for my absence and that I'll make it up to you all soon. I have to take care of something important" He ended the call abruptly, not giving Thomas a chance to protest, and tossed the phone aside. The engine roared to life as he put the car in gear and drove out of the parking spot, leaving the gallery behind.

"Where are we going?" you asked breathlessly, still trying to catch your breath from the intensity of your orgasm.

Rafayel flashed you a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with renewed lust and desire. "Back to my place. I'm not done with you yet, not by a long shot." He reached over, resting his hand high up on your thigh, fingers teasing the hem of your dress. "I'm going to take my time with you, explore every inch of this gorgeous body. And then, maybe, just maybe I'll give you another screaming orgasm, but this time on my cock."

[lover-of-mine]

alright costume oracle, if the black Eddie outfit isn't a flashback to the coma, what do we think that all black ensemble means??

Okay everyone, please only address me as costume oracle from now on when asking about this oskaoskaoksaosk (I'm kidding, this just made me laugh so sincerely, thank you). So, the black. First, the 611 comparison, I think the biggest giveaway that is not meant to be a flashback is his hair lol. But while they do look similar, the shirts are different, with different fabrics, different buttons, different pockets, so not the same.

Honestly, Eddie was in a lot of black in s7 and 2 out of 3 non-uniform outfits we saw from him include black tops, which is interesting considering his arc. And this isn't considering the fact that he has been wearing the black lafd top more than the navy one and the black jacket he was also in a lot.

It could 100% be the lighting but something that drew my attention right away is that black isn't all that vibrant. He was in black during most of Buck's bi arc and he meets Kim in black, but those are a lot more intense. I have a running theory that Eddie is chasing color, and at first, I thought that they were gonna put him in lighter colors during said chase. And I think I was partially right. Obviously with Eddie allowing himself joy being my biggest thing here, that baby pink color. So in my head, when he is playing in those lighting tones, he's closer.

So putting him in black, something that absorbs color and doesn't allow him to reflect anything back, a color that was very attached to him last season while he was in a relationship wasn't fully sure of or the thing with Kim is interesting. Talking about actual color theory, black is very commonly used as a color of mourning, so it could be Eddie mourning the life he doesn't want to leave behind. Black is also a color of mystery or concealment, so it could be Eddie hiding things, like the way he doesn't really want to move or be in Texas. Mostly I think that that outfit could be about a scene where Eddie is trying to resign himself to doing what he thinks is right even though he hates it, or hiding his true feelings somehow, trying to keep the peace, accept the criticism, end up back in a mind space where the belives he needs to be punished for hurting Chris. This is my safe bet. But let's say we want to be a bit more daring in our spec.

I have multiple theories about what color Eddie could be while he confronts his parents about basically stealing Chris. For instance what I nicknamed the "let's talk about if I trust you with my kid" light wash denim, since they put him in that white undershirt, light wash denim button-down combo when we first see Shannon and he doesn't want to let her see Chris, when his parents are trying to convince him to give Chris to them in 315, and for the there's nobody in this world I trust with my son more than you scene.

Other theories include a yellow color if the scene ends up attached to his queer awakening somehow, of him accepting more of who he is in a similar way they used blue with Buck throughout his coming out arc, but I'm a lot less confident on that one.

And well, some cultures have black as a color attached to rebellion, and black is also at times used to indicate power. And Eddie was in black the last time he was in Texas and he was confronting the damage his father did to him. So it could also be used as he confronts his mother, the precedent is there.

He's also in black during the dinner he tries to ask Shannon to be a family again and she asks for a divorce, so the road to acceptance there could end with black since their relationship ends and "restarts" with black, since he's also in black talking to Kim the first time. And that's interesting since he doesn't really mourn Shannon in black, the scene we have when he's confronting those feelings head-on, are not exactly black, yes, we have the black shirt in 217, but the green jacket ends up being the focus there. And as much as they seem to be trying to distance themselves from the Kim of it all, this arc also has to include letting Shannon's ghost go, so also something to think about there.

So, to recap, safe bet is Eddie in mourning for the life he left behind or hiding how much it hurts him to leave LA. Getting a bit daring, maybe Eddie having some hard conversations with his parents or finally letting go of Shannon for real.

This got long as fuck and I'm sure how much sense it makes if you're not seeing the visions in my head, but if you read this, I love you 🫶

[sturnslutz]

the beginning of nothing.

including: the intro of murderhouse!matt and sardonic!reader, cursing, tension, use of y/n. reader's nickname is 'bug' and last name is 'harmon' to correlate last names in the show. 1.5k words.

you didn't want to move. you didn't want to move to this fuckass town in the middle of los angeles. this place didn't even pop up on your gps, it just looked like a forest.

but, what you did like was that it was a mansion. something by the name of "The Rosenheim Mansion" whatever the fuck that meant. your dad, ben, was the most excited for this move and called it a "step into a new world" or so he says to escape his past.

your room looked somewhat nice, actually. the stained windows and gothic furniture was right down your alley, and your own decorations made it even better.

your dad was a therapist. or more so, child behaviorist? he had told you he had a client coming in today and to stay in your room, because apparently this kid was "dangerous."

your dad knew that you honestly didn't care about his clients, but for some reason told you multiple times more than usual not to come down.

you ignored him and said what you knew he liked to hear. "yeah, of course, dad. i won't go downstairs. i'll have a nap though, so try to keep the kid down."

when you woke up 2 hours after their appointment had started, you honestly did think it ended, especially because it was quiet. you stepped downstairs, on your phone and blasting some music in your headphones.

you looked up while you were walking and paused your music as you heard voices. you took your headphone out of your ear, and glanced down to your dad's office, which for some reason was open.

you stepped one step lower to actually see properly, and what you saw was not what you expected. what, or actually who you saw, was the most beautiful man you have ever seen. he had the fluffiest brown hair that fell perfectly right above his eyes.

he must've felt you staring, and his eyes locked onto yours. it felt like almost no time has passed before he smirked to you, then looking away back to your father who was sitting in front of him.

your breath hitched in your throat. this was the reason your dad didn't give any details about him. because he knew you would fall for him.

you could hear their soft conversation while you continued walking to the kitchen, where your mom was. "oh, hey bug. sleep well?" her soft tone was always what you loved about her, and she always felt the need to check up on you. "yeah, thanks mom. hey, do you know what the kid's name is, that dad is talking to?"

she had brought you a drink from a cafe near by, handing it to you as you spoke, to which you're drinking from now, waiting for her answer. "i think, matthew is what his name is, i'm not quite sure. he's cute though. think that's why dad didn't want you seeing him." she teased to you.

you nodded, laughing a bit. "me too. how long has their meeting gone on for? they had just started when i fell asleep, and they're still going."

"honestly, i don't even know. he told me matt is a handful with a bunch of trauma or something. but apparently he's also a good conversator." she says as she quiets down a bit, hearing footsteps come out of the room.

your dad pops around the corner, first looking at your mom, and then you. "oh, hey. didn't know you woke up, bug. i gotta pick up the phone, and matt's staying a bit longer. just watch him so he doesn't leave my office." his voice lowers to only you 3 could hear when he talks about matt.

you smile a bit, nodding before he walks to the living room. you walk away from your mom, and make eye contact with matt again, who's just sitting in the room, phone in hand, but looking straight ahead- right where you were.

you smiled at him a bit, to which he returned it, and you gestured your head up the stairs, and began walking up to your room. you sat on the ground, leaving the door open a bit once you heard, quiet footsteps coming up the steps.

matt peaked his head around your door, smirking. "hey." he walks in, closing the door. "hi, you're matt right?" he sits down across from you as he nods. "yup. you're y/n, or bug as i heard, huh?" you chuckle a bit, nodding just like he did. "yeah. it's a nickname everyone calls me, and you can too." he smirks, nodding as he looks around your room, his eyes landing on a certain record player.

"holy shit, this is nice. can i go see?" he looks back at you, his eyes practically begging. "yeah, of course." he smiles, standing up and walking to the player. he examines it before looking back at you. "you like kurt cobain? he's like my favorite artist ever."

you stand up, walking right next to him as you look at the set of tracks you have next to the player. "of course i do, his music is legendary. i got shit on at my last school for liking him, but i didn't really care."

he looks down at you, his voice lowering a bit as he scoffs. "fuck them. they're assholes who don't know real music. me and my brothers are crazy fans of him. you know any unreleased by him?"

you look up at him, shrugging. "you askin' about nirvana or actual kurt cobain?" "both, but for sake of time, nirvana." "do you love me, and pay to play are my favorites." he nods, his smirk coming over his face again. "you got good ass taste. never seen that from a girl. i like you."

a blush comes over your cheeks as you laugh, closing your record player before walking over and sitting down in your previous spot, to which he follows. "yeah, you're pretty cool too, i guess." he shakes his head, laughing, his spot being much closer than before as his knees hit yours.

"your dad warned you about me, huh? told you not to talk to me, and here you are, bug." his voice lowered, teasing you. "i don't really listen to him much. he's kinda an asshole." "oh yeah? that's why he moved you to this big, scary mansion right?" he shot back, his tone almost being serious, but you know he isn't.

"he moved us because he got fired from his last job for hooking up with one of his clients. she was the same age as me." your tone now serious, as his jaw clenched a bit. "that's fucked up. i'm sorry about that."

"nah, it's all good. my mom still hasn't divorced him and i don't know when or if she ever will. she's still super upset about it. besides that, tell me about you."

his face changes a bit, something you haven't seen from talking to him yet. "there's not much about me. i'm a triplet to 2 dumbasses named chris and nick. i think you'll like them, and i live right next door. hence to why i'm here longer than most clients and another reason to your dad not wanting me to see you. speaking of him, i hear him coming upstairs right now."

your face dropped when he said that, him almost calling it as your dad opens your door roughly. he looks down to you and matt, sighing. "matthew, i'm not comfortable with you seeing my daughter and being in my house like this. you both disobeyed my one ask. i'm sorry matt, but you need to leave."

you open your mouth to say something back to him, but matt quickly cuts you off. "it's all good, bug. i'll leave. sorry mr. harmon. i'll see you later." matt whispers quickly the last sentence to you, before standing up and sliding past your dad out of your room.

once he left, your dad closes the bedroom door before you stand up. "what the hell dad?" you snap. "like i said, you disobeyed my one rule. i knew you two would get along, but i'm telling you, bug. this kid is not someone you want to be around. i know his family, and they're not okay. i only took his offer to be seen because they're rich, and i wanted to see if i could fix at least one of them."

"don't talk about them like that, you don't know them," he quickly cuts you off. "and you do? you've talked to him for what, 10 minutes? and you're acting like you've known him for your whole life. i've known the sturniolos' for god knows how long. you cannot be around those triplets, or their parents. you understand me?"

his tone is something you haven't heard from in a while, and for a second your wall to him diminishes. "yeah. got it." you quietly say before you walk over to your record player once again, making sure everything is still intact, or to distract yourself from the awkward environment you both are in.

he leaves without a word, slamming your door in the process. you sigh as you look to the door, rolling your eyes.

they couldn't be that bad. right?

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm @stvrnioloslvt @sturn777 @priscillaog @allylovescody @sturniolo101 @mattssslutbby @mattybsgroupie @mattysketchup @m11rx @slut4brunettes @trevorsgodmother @chrislova @slut4christopherr @sturns-mermaid @conspiracy-ash @p1mpactivities @sweeetbabysblog @brooklyncameron @chrisgetsmewetter @h3arts4harry @jetaimevous @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @raesturns @sturnsrecord @matteatmeout @luvvs4chriss comment to be added or removed.

[hyenadon]

So I'd like to respond to this fully because I have...complex feelings that I would like to type out about this subject. Also I'd say i'm mediumly young! I'm 29. And I have been chronically online since I was about 14 or 15, which has definitely changed the way my brain works (see: "The Shallows: what the internet is doing to our brains" by Nicholas Car, and "Alone Together: Why we expect more from technology and less from each other" by Sherry Turkle)

So, I very much agree with your point about making a whole personality of "being a bitch" or "being a dick". I really get angry at those type of people- like, it seems like they just get a rise out of getting a rise out of people, yknow? That shit def pisses me off.

But I also very much believe in the power of kvetching/bitching/complaining. I think it can be very emotionally regulating to just complain aloud either to the void of the internet, or to IRL friends. I do this constantly. Possibly, probably too much. I complain about little things like my floor being dusty. Or a rude customer at my workplace. But noticing those small complaints also makes me notice other small things that make me happy! And then I notice that I've spent like, at least 15 minutes complaining about a thing that really doesn't affect my life that much. I'm just bein' mad about a real small thing.

Things that are good:

The way my dog curls up and scratches her nose, the sound of my radiator. Making oatmeal with blueberries and plums at 6am at work. The sound that bell peppers make when you bite them. Kimchi. Pickled cucumbers and carrots. The sound of a cast iron pan scraping over a burner. There are so many good things in the world that I love to talk about but it should be fine for me to kvetch about the annoying things.

I will also say that at least for me, it's very hard to make my offline life fullfilling. I'm not exactly sure why this is but my most sustainable relationships have mostly been online, although my IRL friends are absolutely fantastic.

And I also THOUROUGHLY agree that going for a walk or metaphorically "touching grass" is always a good idea. My fave thing lately has been identifying all the pigeons in my apartment courtyard by little nicknames. I also picked my apartment because it's right across the street from Lake Michigan and I enjoy sitting down at the lake and just staring at the water.

But yeah I think it is ok to complain to regulate, but I do get what you're saying. Anyway i'm gonna go eat some cherries. And then maybe make some buckwheat noodles with chickpeas and peppers. And possibly give my dog a bath because for some reason she smells...sweaty?

If you're fairly young and online it can really help you to learn to spot who is dealing with their feelings well and who isn't. Now, obviously a lot of people in marginalized classes experience a lot of negative feelings when talking about how the world is, and that's okay, so I'm not saying just ignore anyone online who's having a rough time. On the other hand, people who make an identity out of being angry, or sad or "being a bitch"/"being a dick"/not caring about the feelings of others really aren't processing their feelings well. You'll often see these same people claim to be completely unaffected by things that are quite clearly massively dysregulating to them, and if they were having a more normal time being online they would probably say "yeah, this making me feel [feeling]" and either log off to go process that or move through it more honestly

I think you can save yourself a lot of time that you might spend arguing with someone who cannot hear you and doesn't see your inner reality because they're too upset if you can recognize when what someone is saying comes from failing to deal with their own feelings

There will also be times when people who are like this decide to make it your problem. Unfortunately social media sometimes rewards unhealthy coping mechanisms. People find themselves with big audiences or communities of similarly dysregulated people who aren't very well and then they just want to find someone it's okay to bully, because it makes them feel better, and it won't make them feel better if their bullying has no effect, so they pick on people they feel like they can reach instead of people truly deserving of ire, fascists and finance perverts and so on

The best thing you can do is make sure that your life offline is as fulfilling as possible, or if you are still in a place in life where online is a really important support system for you, then make sure it's separate from these people. Hang out in a discord call with your friends, play some games, swap movie recommendations, tell them about a blog you found recently, listen to their problems for a bit. Or go for a walk, listen to the birds, learn to tell apart the bird songs, find a place where you like being alone that isn't in your house

Negative emotions are united by the fact that we don't want to be seen when we're experiencing them. We want others to think of us as happy, excited, passionate, curious, and not as sad, angry, ashamed, scared. This makes us sometimes lie to ourselves when we're experiencing those feelings, dissociating from our emotional reality and seeking a release while making up justifications for why what we're doing is normal and rational and achieves some greater goal. If you see someone who is clearly very upset but claiming to be cool as a cucumber, they're simply not your problem, go to a different page

[yourlocallunatic]

I desperately need more Ridoc teasing and in control. That was one of the best smutty fics I’ve read in a long time

Payback

Ricoc Gamlyn x Fem!reader 18+

summary: Ridoc loves to tease you and flirt with you, sometimes it might go a little too far. So you decide to show him what it feels like. He doesn't take it as well as you thought...(Follows Fourth Wing plot, before anything bad happens, I love the peace lol)

warnings: Smuuuutt! piv sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering (f receiving) improper use of signets, dom!Ridoc, brat tamer!Ridoc, itty bit of praise & degradation kink. lots of dirty talk too many feeling (I couldn't help it, I love love)

wordcount: 6.9K (lol)

notes: thanks for the request and love! I could not get the scene from OS were Ridoc and Vi are arguing and she says how ice starts forming at his fingers when he's getting angry out of my head. I just had to include it. Can't stop thinking about Ridoc and his cold ass hands (might need to dedicate a whole post to it lmk if you'd wanna see that)

You were friends Ridoc. Just friends. Nothing more. He was a rider, you were a rider, you had your squad, your section leaders, your wingleaders. Everything was normal and as it should be.

Until it wasn't.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it happened or what exactly Ridoc had said to make you want to get back at him.

Maybe it was the day he'd called you beautiful right after you'd fallen in the river during flight maneuvers. Your dragon had plucked you out of the water and returned to the flight field where everyone else was, your clothes were sopping wet, and drops of water slid over your face. The rest of your squad was laughing at you (like the annoying friends that they were) even Ridoc laughed. But that was before he wiped a drop of water off the tip of your nose and spoke in a low and somewhat sultry voice.

"You're so beautiful when you're wet..." your face had heated at his words, not understanding exactly his lewd implications until he continued. "Wonder what else gets you that wet..." You'd pushed him away and screamed at him, scolding him for talking like a pervert. Rhiannon was not far behind in lecturing him.

Or maybe it was the full week he refused to call you anything other than princess. He regularly used the pet name in a way that made your heart flutter. But he was your friend and that's just what Ridoc did to his friends—tease. He'd still use the nickname with you on occasion, but only when he really wanted to annoy you.

Perhaps it was once he developed his signet and realized he could use it to absolutely annoy the shit out of you and your whole squad. He had started by wrapping his fingers around Violet's hot mug of tea when she wasn't looking and freezing it solid. Next, he woke up before Sawyer and froze his door shut, resulting in him being late to formation. But the kicker was when Ridoc discovered that he could dramatically cool his body temperature and even form frost on his fingertips. So in the moments you'd least expect it he would lightly drag his fingertips along you, the cold shocking you to your bone. At breakfast, during formation, he even went too far one time to grasp your upper thigh during battle brief. The chill ran all the way up your spine to the base of your skull, the contrast of the cool of his fingers and the heat so close to your center drove you crazy. You yelped at the feeling and disrupted the whole class, which caused Ridoc to burst out laughing.

No, no, it had to be the time when he straight up asked to sleep with you. That must've been what made you decide to get your revenge.

Violet had been complaining about how she missed sex and Liam offered to find some candidates for her. Ridoc decided to throw his name in the ring, saying he'd be happy to oblige her at any time.

"There’s no way Liam would pick you for Violet out of a lineup," Rhi chimed in, "He has good taste."

"Seriously, I need Liam to find someone for me. I miss sex too..." you joked, adding to the conversation.

"Well princess, like I told Violet, I'd be happy to help out," Ridoc said, leaning over next to you and messing with your hair. He was always flirty with his friends, that's just what he did, but honestly, it was getting too much.

"No thanks, I'll pass," you chuckled lightly as you tried to calm your racing heart.

"C'mon pleaseee," he all but begged you. You rolled your eyes at him in answer—a regular one of your responses to his antics—but he didn't accept it. The fingers that were messing with your hair found their way to the back of your neck and a steady flow of coldness jolted you in your seat. He leaned his head in closer before speaking once more, "You know I'll make you feel incredible sweetness, can I please just spend one night with you?" His cold fingers gripping the back of your neck and his warm breath on your face...holy Dunne...you knew Ridoc was hot but would today be the day you confessed your feelings?

Before you could asses the waves of arousal flowing through you and decide if you wanted to kiss him or not, Ridoc burst out laughing and removed his hand from you.

"I totally got you that time!" He held a hand to his chest as he caught his breath and you finally came to your senses.

"Fuck you, Gamlyn!" you cry and lay your head on the table in embarrassment.

"What happened?!" Sawyer asked from the other side of you. You groan in response curling further into yourself.

"I fully just turned her on, dude! Right before Physics too!" At this point tears were streaming out of his eyes from laughter

"Aw, Ridoc, ew! Don't be such a perv!" Rhiannon scolded him. Your face was still tucked in your arms on the desk.

"But she liked it," he said in a sing-song tone, his laughter finally subsiding. No. That's it. Ridoc was a fucking relentless, teasing, asshole of a flirt and he had to get a taste of his own medicine. You swing your face up from the table, the redness on it surely not gone yet, but it is about time someone said something to him.

"You better watch your back Ridoc," you snap, pointing your finger and digging it into his chest, "I'm gonna make sure you get what's coming for you."

"Ooo feisty, huh? We'll see about that, Princess."

And thus—the game began.

The first week you started simple, just as he had. You'd woken up in a particularly good mood as you knew that was the day you were going to turn the tables on Ridoc. You made your way to the dining hall in the morning and sat where you normally did with your squad and waited...Ridoc was always late in the mornings, he was a night owl and was regularly in other people's rooms. Not that it bothered you…no, you weren't jealous. No. Of course not. Nope. But surprisingly he was somewhat on-time that morning and his floppy brown hair fell over his forehead in the perfect messy way it always did. You kept your eyes on him as he made his way through the food line and to your table, completely disregarding your breakfast in front of you.

"What are you planning?" Violet asked through her mouthful of food, eyeing you suspiciously. You kept your gaze, not even breaking it to respond to your friend.

"You'll see," you smirked.

As he approached closer you scooched over, creating a spot at the table for Ricoc, and patted the bench in earnest. And waited again. You knew he would make a comment.

"Hm, someone's excited to see me this morning," There it is. He walked right into your trap.

"I can't help it..." You sigh, doing your best to sound sincere (though, it wasn't difficult to be sincere with him)

"Hmph?" he groans in response, mouth full of food.

"You just look sooo handsome this morning, want you next to me," you rest your cheek on one hand that's propped up by your elbow, and the other hand reaches out and slowly twists in his dark locks. You gaze at him, watching him closely in anticipation. His eyes shift looking between your own, looking for something. Gods...his eyes, so warm, so full of light. You want to get lost in them, in the joy they hold, in the stubbornness and fearlessness, and fuck. He was starting to laugh.

"W-what?" you stutter, retracting your hand from his hair.

"Gonna have to try harder than that, sweetness," the smile never leaves his lips as he digs into his breakfast.

"AHH," you grumble and stand from your seat. How the fuck did he win this one? You storm out of the dining hall, immediately starting your next plan.

"What in Malek's name did I just watch?" You hear Rhiannon's voice fade out as you leave.

The second week, you stepped up your game. Big time. If you couldn't flatter him you would flatter yourself. It was Tuesday night, squad hand-to-hand practice. Your normal training clothes weren't very favorable for your figure, you normally stuck to the standard issue training pants and boots and a plain long-sleeved top, but it was spring now, the weather was warmer, and no one would question your change in attire. So you changed. You wore the smallest and tightest of your training tanks, one from before you gained muscle as a rider, and at the very bottom of your armoire, you found your old tights. They were meant for training so it wasn't anything scandalous, you'd just outgrown them. But because of the tightness of the leggings, you did have to forego your undergarments to avoid any panty lines.

"Damn, girl. What's all this about?" Rhi asked you as you two and Violet made your way to the training room. You tugged on the straps of your tank to ensure your breasts stayed in place. Yeah, very tight.

"It's...hot out," you respond, not at all convincing them.

"Is this about you trying to get Ridoc back for getting you all hot and bothered before Physics a couple of weeks ago?" Violet speaks up, amusement imminent in her voice.

"He did not get me 'hot and bothered'" you defend yourself, "just...a little turned on. He just won't stop teasing, just trying to show him how it feels!" you continue your defense.

"This is seduction. Not teasing," Rhiannon says. Whatever. Is that not what Ridoc was doing to you? You just roll your eyes and continue into the training room, eyes immediately seeking out Ridoc. You find him on the mat, sparring with Sawyer. The fight was pretty evenly matched, Sawyer had a little height on Ridoc, but Ridoc had a little more bulk on him. Fuck, those muscles, straining the sleeves of his shirt. You shook your head and cleared your thoughts moving closer to the mat. You walk right up to the edge of it and cross your arms, subtly pushing your breasts up and closer together.

"Looking good boys," You say, gaining their attention, hoping you could draw Ridoc's away just long enough for Sawyer to get the high ground. Unfortunately, you overestimated Sawyer's ability to keep his eyes where they need to be.

"Woah." Sawyer sighed lightly under his breath. You rolled your eyes at him and looked for a reaction from Ridoc. He just looked you up and down slowly before tackling Sawyer to the ground. Seriously? 

Sawyer just bumped down a notch on the friend poll. 

The boys finish their match quickly, Ridoc taking the win after Sawyer lost his focus, and exit the mat. You stay at the edge waiting for Ridoc to pass you and acknowledge you in some way other than giving you a once-over. He saunters over slowly, a light sweat glistening his forehead and leans down right to your level before speaking.

"You look good too, princess," your face heats and your heart beats faster at the excitement of your victory over him. Until he keeps talking. "But...I've already imagined your body enough times to not be surprised at how good you look." You don't know if it's anger or arousal that's causing wetness to pool at your core, all you know is that he's won. Yet again.

That same night you tried again and failed. You thought maybe sparring with him and getting your bodies closer would get him going, but it proved the opposite. You'd ended up underneath him, heat coursing through your veins. However, you could've sworn you felt something poking at your lower stomach, maybe it was just false hope.

By the third week, you knew you'd have to come up with something really good. But you didn't. You tried to search for something that you could do to get back at him, but everything you came up with was either not good enough or too good, to the point where you think it would just backfire and you'd end up turned on again.

It was a Friday and all your friends decided it was time for a much-needed study night—aided by some alcohol. You walked into Sawyer's room defeated, still not have come up with anything good enough to tease Ridoc with. The room was full, Sawyer laid sprawled across his bed with Violet sitting at the foot of it, Rhiannon and Liam lay on the floor with their texts open in front of them, then there was Ridoc. He sat on the chair at Sawyer's desk, facing your friends and ignoring the books on the desk, his legs were spread wide and his hands were crossed behind his head. He smirked as you walked through the door and looked around for a place to settle down.

Your eyes crossed the room and landed on Ridoc, your gaze lingers on him for maybe a moment too long, but that one moment was enough for a stupid thought to enter your brain. Hopefully, stupid enough to work.

You throw your bag and jacket on the ground and step over the books laid on the ground, making your way to Ridoc. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it quickly when you plopped right down in his lap. He was stunned silent for a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into him to settle you into his embrace.

"Oh? Go right ahead I suppose," He says cockily, but you catch the hint of confusion in his voice.

"What? There was nowhere else to sit," you feign your confidence and try to ignore the feeling of Ridoc's arm around you.

"I would have gladly moved to avoid whatever this is..." Rhiannon says from the ground in disgust. You ignore her comment and begin a conversation with Liam, trying your best to pretend you weren't sitting in Ridoc's lap. But once you got a drink in you, and a little more, it became very difficult to ignore. That was when you had your next bright idea.

Violet was talking about her issues with Riorson and you nodded along as she droned on with her complaints, your brain was a little fuzzy and you were growing bored of her repeating the same thing. After a while your body had relaxed perfectly into Ridoc's and as the conversation flowed your body relaxed even more and the little thought wormed it's way into your brain. You didn't think about the implications of your actions before you wiggled your ass and slowly ground down on his lap. His grip tightened around you waist, a warning maybe?

You waited for his arm to loosen around you before you made your next move, letting the conversation around you continue you once more ground your hips down onto his lap, doing your best to make it look like you were just adjusting. His grip tightened again, and this time you felt his cock begin to harden underneath you. You were winning this time.

You don't wait this time before moving again, fidgeting in your seat as you hear Liam trying to defend Riorson in the background. Ridoc didn't let up on his hold on you, this time wrapping his other arm around your waist and digging his fingers in deeper. He grunts lowly behind you as you grind your ass harder down onto him. The harder you go the harder his fingers on your waist grab and his bruising grasp suddenly grows cold as he grows harder. Oh fuck.

"This the game you want to play?" His voice was right next to your ear, his hot breath causing a chill to run through you. You can't stop, not now, you were so close to winning this. But his voice. And his arms around you. And his cold fingers. No. You turn your head a little to the side, your lips so close to his as you respond.

"Hm, I'm just giving you what you deserve."

"Yeah? Okay, princess. We'll play that way then," His words were low and gravelly, filled with arousal. You nearly moaned out loud. But he was fast. Only a second later he shoved you from his lap, you stumbled to stand as the conversation around you died down. You swing your head to look at him and ask him why the fuck he just did that but he had already gathered his things and was halfway out the door, mumbling a quick "Gotta go." and leaving you speechless.

"What's up with him?" Rhi asks, sending a questioning look your way. Your astonishment slowly turned to a feeling of pride and a small smile appeared on your face.

"Let's just say I finally got him back," you smirk and move back to the chair where he sat, the seat still warm.

That's what you thought at least.

Another week passed and you were confident you had gotten your revenge on Ridoc. He hadn't said anything about the incident, leading you to believe that he was just embarrassed. Oh how wrong you were.

It was late, the hallways dark, only lit by a mage light or two. You couldn't sleep so attempted to make your way to the flight field for a late-night flight. But you didn't make it very far before you were slammed face-forward against the wall. You tried to reach for the daggers on your belt but the assailant already had your wrists in their grasp. Your breathing picked up, a slight cry crawling its way out of your mouth in fear and you could hear your heart beating in your ears. Over the sound of the blood rushing through your head, you heard a slight shushing behind you, and warm breath on your face. Your senses came back to you and you felt the freezing cold hands on your wrists. Ridoc.

"Shh, shh, just me, sweetness," his voice was still teasing despite the immense fear you just showed. Your body relaxed instantly, slumping against the wall and letting his arms hold you up.

"Gods, Ridoc!" you keep your voice low, still aware that it's very late at night. "What the fuck are you doing?!" He hums in response, foregoing verbally answering your question. His face was still close to yours and he inhaled deeply before burying his face in your neck. "Ridoc, wha—oh..." A breathy sigh leaves you when you feel his hot tongue trace down your neck.

Shivers ran down your arms, covering you in gooseflesh as you melted even further into the wall. His hands move from your wrists and run all the way up your arms then back down to your waist, all while his tongue keeps moving. His cold touch finds its way to the hem of your shirt and slowly moves it up, his fingers glide across your the expanse of your stomach your body practically vibrating at the feeling. His mouth moved on your neck slowly and you didn't expect it when he bit down lightly.

"Ah! Fuck," you groan at the feeling, your panties surely soaked through at this point. Ridoc chuckles out a light, melodic laugh and leisurely withdraws his face.

"You like that?" He breathes out. Your brain was so foggy with arousal you didn't even think before responding.

"Mmm, yes," you crane your neck, reaching for his mouth with your but he retracts further, his hands falling from you, leaving your body colder than it was with his frozen fingers against you. He backs away even more as you turn around, his back almost against the opposite wall of the hallway. "Ridoc?" you sounded pathetic, you were sure of it.

"What, princess? I thought this is what you wanted to play now?" His voice was so gods-damned cocky. A wave of disappointment ran through you as he walked further away and down the hallway. Away from you in all your desperation. "Don't look so sad," he call out to you in a mock pout, "you'll get what you want eventually." Fuck. Him.

You withheld from your nighttime flight and instead made your way back to your room in haste. Stripping your pants off and laying on your bed as soon as you shut the door. You may be pissed at him, but he was still ridiculously hot and turned you on to no end. You rub your clit in furious circles, coming to your peak quickly and moaning out Ridoc's name. Well, you'd get back at him twice as hard.

The next day at breakfast you leave your food untouched, your thoughts running too fast for your sleep-deprived brain.

"Hmm...someone's sleepy," Ridoc says as he settles onto the bench next to you, far too close for comfort. "Wanna talk about what's keeping you up?" he asks knowingly.

"Not particularly," you snap back.

"Was it a guy? Or a girl? Finally find someone worth sleeping with?" He continues his teasing. Your first reaction is to be annoyed, you roll your eyes in response, but you still have a little confidence left.

"Yeah, actually," you answer him, sitting up in your seat straighter and scooting just a tad closer to him.

"What?" you could've sworn he sounded a little hurt.

"Mhm. He keeps walking around me though, just wish he would fuck me already, had to take care of myself last night," he coughs lightly and looks down at his plate, you take his moment of shyness as an opportunity and slide your hand over his thigh, moving it up slowly to where his cock started to harden. But that moment doesn't last long.

"Yeah? Maybe it's cause he's trying to teach you a lesson for being such a brat," his tone grows darker the further up his leg you get and you can't help the flush that seems to go through your body at the thought of him getting hard for you.

"Well, maybe he wouldn't have to teach me a lesson if he wasn't a brat first," you make your move in sync with your last word, cupping his hard cock with your hand. It was a step up from what he'd done to you last night. A really big step. Fuck, he was thick, you did what you could to fully grasp him from the confines of his pants but it was difficult with how large he was.

Ridoc wasn't taking any of your shit, he grabbed your wrist and moved it away from his center then pulled to bring you closer to him.

"You're gonna regret that, sweetness," How did he manage to sound so teasing and so sexy at the same time? "You thought last night was bad? I'll have you on your knees begging for me next time," Your body stills at his words, you've exhausted all your courage and were left in front of him defenseless. He stares into your eyes as your body begins to tremble with need. He managed to get to you every single time, but at least this time you'd known for sure that you were also getting to him.

"Will you guys please just shut up and fuck already?" Rhiannon finally shouts, slamming her cutlery down on the table. "It's making me fucking sick."

"Sorry, Rhi," Ridoc pushes away from you, easily masking his emotions while you still sit in agony. "Not my fault," that breaks you from your trance.

"Not your fault? I–I'm not–"

"Save it, princess," He shuts you up way to easily, standing swiftly and exiting the dining hall. Your head falls to the table in defeat and embarrassment.

"You two are seriously disgusting," Liam speaks up. "And that's saying something." You groan in response, whining at the teasing from your friends. But even through your embarrassment you couldn't get Ridoc's words out of your head and you tried to push the thought of begging on your knees for him out of your head.

Over the next few days, you did your best to avoid Ridoc. Not that you didn't want to see him—it was the opposite really—you just weren't sure if you could handle any more teasing (seduction) from him before breaking. He'd caught your eye a couple of times a subtle twinkle in them every time, paired with a smirk on his face. That alone was enough for you to want to get on your knees for him.

It was exactly five days later when he came back to you to fulfill his promise. Five agonizing days without speaking to Ridoc. You tried to convince yourself that it was just because he was turning you on, but you knew the truth. You knew it was because you had real feelings for him, and you were afraid he didn't return them.

You'd just finished training for the day and were ready to crash for the night, your back sore and arms tired from holding out against Imogen. You closed the door to your room behind you and lay on the floor to stretch your stiff muscles. You hadn't even been alone for a minute before your door burst open and shut again in quick succession.

"Ridoc?" he rotates his wrist slightly and you hear the lock on your door click behind you and he locks it with lesser magic—something you still haven't mastered. He stalks over to where you are on the ground, your body propped up by just your elbows and before you know it he's on top of you. Kissing you. Hard.

Your arms give out beneath you but Ridoc is there, wrapping his arms around you and holding you up.

"Couldn't—mph—wait another fucking minute," he grunts out as you begin to return his kisses, struggling to keep up with his fast pace. His words. His mouth on yours...you could've sworn you'd reached the afterlife and Zihnal had favored you. You keep kissing him in earnest, not caring that he decided right now to give in for whatever reason. What did make him give in right now?

"W–wait, why now?" You try to push him away gently but he resists trailing kisses down the side of your neck. He mumbles between them, something unintelligible, you push him harder "Ridoc, can't hear you." he gives into you and pulls away slightly to speak clearly.

"I said, you're wearing that fucking shirt again," you look down and it clicks in your head, this was the tiny training tank that you wore that one day to tease him. And you had worn it again for training that night, not even thinking it would do anything to him after the first time.

"Oh so you just saw my tits and couldn't hold back," you taunt. He does not take to your teasing well and grabs your face with one hand, his cold fingers squishing your cheeks together.

"Don't forget what you did the other day, sweetness. I'm not going back on my word," You feel your body being to submit to him, but you still want to push him a little further, you weren't quite done with your game yet.

"Hm, want me on my knees?" you question, craning your neck to try to capture his lips again. He ignores you and stands, walking to the door.

"Fine, I'll leave."

"No! No, stay! Please, Ridoc," you scramble up from the ground, not quite making it to your feet as your pleading begins. This can't happen again, he can't leave you to take care of yourself once more. You could've been begging for life itself with Malek with the way you felt.

"Seriously? All it took was three words and you're doing exactly what I want you to," he turns from where he stands by the door and looks down at you pathetically. There you were. On your knees. Begging him.

You honestly couldn't care at this point that you'd given up completely on your goal to tease him back. You needed him. Just as you needed air to breathe. You'd surely regret your actions tomorrow but there was no way you could wait any longer.

"I give up, okay! I just need you to touch me, please..."

"Think you're gonna get away with it that easy? After all your teasing..." he tsks and walks closer to you, moving his hands to his hips to unbuckle his belt. Your mouth waters at the prospect of his cock in your mouth. You reach your hands out impatiently to take over the job of removing his belt, but right when you get there he slaps your hands away. "No hands. You're gonna take what I give you, princess." you nod in understanding, opting to behave and listen to him so he doesn't threaten to leave again.

He removes his belt and undoes the button on his pants, sliding them and his boxers down just enough to pull his leaking cock out. You'd felt it the other day, yes, but seeing it was something else. If your mouth was watering at the thought, you're sure you started drooling at the sight. He pumps himself a couple of times, spreading the wetness at the tip with his thumb before he sticks his hand out in front of you, mumbling out a "Spit." you listen, spitting in his hand and letting the excess drool fall down your chin as you look up at him through your lashes. He continued to touch himself a little longer before you realized what he was doing. He was waiting for you to ask for it.

"Ridoc, please...can I please?" you ask as soon as you realize what's going on. You notice him drawing in a deep breath to keep control before he answers you.

"Please what?"

"Ridoc! I asked nicely," You pout and start to bring your hands up again before deciding otherwise, knowing you'd get in trouble.

"Yes, you did. But I want to hear you say it," You could tell he was having a hard time holding himself together and you were too, so you gave in.

"Wanna suck your cock, please—" You couldn't even finish before he grasped your jaw again and opened your mouth up, shoving his thick cock inside. You choke at first but quickly adjust and start to get to work.

"Good girl, see what happens when you obey?" his words shoot straight to your pussy, his praise making you even slicker.

"M–phm," you agree, your response muffled. He moves slowly, but you know it's more for his sake of not finishing too soon than it is for your sake of not choking again. He fucks into your mouth and you bob your head in rhythm, soothing the underside of his cock with your tongue. He tasted amazing, better than you imagined when you touched yourself.

"So good, princess," he groans and wraps his fingers in your hair and pulls your head off him, your lips leaving him with a pop. Drool streams down your chin, tears threatening to fall out of your eyes. You try to move forward again but his hand in your hair holds you back. "You're not done behaving are you?"

"No, no, I'll behave," you answer with a shake of your head.

"Good. Take your clothes off and sit on the bed." You move quickly, not wanting to spend another second without his hands on you. You remove your shirt first while kicking off your boots, then make quick work of your pants and lean back to sit on the edge of your bed. You cross your legs at the ankle and swing them back and forth, impatiently waiting for Ridoc as get walks closer to you. He reaches his hand out and plucks at the thin strap of your bra. "All of your clothes," he says sternly. You grow slightly nervous to be completely naked in front of him with him being mostly clothed.

"But—" your words are cut off with only a hard look from him. You stand again and reach around you to pull your bra off. Ridoc's grip on his cock visibly tightens as your tits bounce free. You keep your eyes on him and lean down, taking your panties off and dangling them in front of his face before dropping them to the ground with the rest of your clothes. "Happy now?" you snark, though still keeping the smile on your face to show him you would keep behaving.

"Very," he sighs before pouncing on you. He captures your mouth with his lips again, licking into your mouth to wind your tongues together. His fingers ran over your body deftly, the light touches driving you mad. But his fingertips grew colder, they were literally ice against you and you whine at the feeling.

He was losing control, he wasn't able to keep his signet in check.

He didn't acknowledge his signet taking hold, instead, he broke away from your kiss momentarily to remove his shirt and shove down his pants even more. You reach out to touch him, disregarding anything he might have to say about it. Thankfully he seems too lost in his mind to bother with it, so you run your hands along his body your fingers feeling their way across his muscular back, and pull him closer to you.

Fully undressed now, Ridoc glides his hands further down your body as he continues to kiss you deeply, your own hands tangled in his hair. He clutches your hips hard and moves one hand to your aching cunt then drags his fingers through achingly slow.

"Ridoc! 'S too cold!" you gasp at the feeling of his frozen fingers at your core. But he ignores your complaint and keeps moving his fingers through your slick.

"So fucking wet, sweetness," he moves his head away from your mouth, leaning back to admire your pussy. "You're dripping, sweetness, did you get this wet just from sucking my cock?" You nod your head in response. "Yeah? You've been wanting this for a long time, huh?

"Please, need more."

"More? I gave you my cock...I'm touching your pussy...what more could you want?" You groan in annoyance at the fact he's making you beg more.

"Ridoc, please! Want you to fuck me, please, I've waited so long..." You cry out pitifully, his fingers still fondling your center.

"Yes, you have, but you were acting like a slut," He plunges two of his fingers deep inside of you, curling them upwards to give you the friction you needed, sinful moans flew from your mouth. "If you just asked me to fuck you I would have, princess."

Despite his dominating tone, the last of his words held a sweetness to them, you knew that if you truly did ask him, he would've done anything for you. But instead there you were, begging him to fuck you while his ice-cold fingers did the job his dick should be doing.

"Ridoc, I need you, please, I need your cock inside me, I'm sorry for teasing! Just please, fuck me!" Your voice was desperate, embarrassingly so. But he wanted you begging and he got it. Seeming satisfied with the job you were doing he pulled his fingers out and stuck them in his mouth, licking them with a tantalizing look on his face and a deep guttural groan.

"There it is," he says as he pulls his fingers from his mouth, "just needed to say sorry, princess, that's it. Good job, I'll fuck you now, don't worry." His voice sounded sweet, but there was a darkness masked underneath it. If you didn't trust Ridoc so much you might've been worried about what was in store for you, but you knew he'd never hurt you.

He grabs a hold of your hips again and pulls you right to the edge of the bed before rolling you onto your front and pulling your ass up. Then, before you know it you're filled to the brim with his thick cock.

"Ah, fuck!" you shout. Pleasure coursed through your entire body, your brain fuddled in ecstasy. Ridoc leaned forward, pushing his cock into you impossibly deeper in the process, and craned his head right down to where your face was smooshed on the bed.

"Tell me if it gets too much and I'll stop, okay, sweetness?"

"Mhm," you answer, too lost in the moment to give a real response.

"No, not gonna cut it, use your words," He didn't move, refusing to do so until you listened.

"I'll tell you, promise," you utter.

"That's it, who knew the slut could be such a good girl?" His tone regaining it's cockiness. He started fucking into you slowly after answering, but his pace picked up fast, very fast.

You felt like you were being completed, his cock fitting you perfectly, rutting deep against your cervix as his fingers bit harshly into your hips, pulling you back against him in deep motions. You covered your mouth with your hand, doing your best to contain how loud you were being.

"Gods, you feel so good, princess. Like you were fucking made for me," you moan into your hand at his words, just the thought of you being made for him, being the one for him, had you keening. Wishing you were the only thing he would ever touch again, the only being he would even taste again, touch again, breathe again.

Your sorrowful thoughts didn't last very long, the feeling of him surrounding you taking over. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

"I love you."

You blanch. Afraid of what you'd just said. You go to slap your hand over your mouth, wait. Your mouth was already covered by your hand. You didn't say that. Ridoc did.

You revel in the joy, the splendor, the indulgence of the words. But also the feeling of him fucking you so deep and hard. It was all too much too fast. Your climax approaches fast, not giving you any time to prepare before you're coming all over his cock, tears break free from their walls, flowing down your face in rivulets. You squeeze hard around his cock as you orgasm and his pace falters.

He pulls out after your cunt stops pulsing and strokes his dick a few more times before he's spilling his seed across your ass, saying a string of curses as he does so.

Your body falls lax against your bed and you feel Ridoc wiping himself off of you with soft fabric and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you up to lay the right way up on the bed. He adjusts so he lays first, dragging you to lay your head on his chest. He loves you.

"There we go, c'mere sweetness—" He sits up quickly, your head rolling off of him as he shoots forward, hands moving to your hips with soft touches "Oh, oh fuck—oh my gods I'm sorry, princess. I'm so fucking sorry, I—I didn't mean to." You tilt your head and look to where his hands barely graze your hips, there your skin is frostbitten into the shapes of his perfect fingertips. Your mind whirs and you look at his face, worry etched over it so clearly. His eyes swim with tears. He loves you.

"Did you mean it?"

"NO! Gods, I'd never...I think I just lost control and—and I can't even tell you how sorry I am princess, gods I can't—" his lip trembles and he moves his hands away from you to run them through his hair.

"Ridoc, no. Do you love me?" you reach to take hold of his face, turning him so he's looking you dead in the eye. The tears don't fall from his eyes and they soften, his body relaxing as he sees the look that has so obviously been on your face for so long.

"More than anything..." He melts into your hold, the affection such a drastic change from him just a few minutes ago. You don't let him say anything else before you move in on him, locking your lips together again. The kiss wasn't as desperate as your ones from earlier, but just as passionate.

"I love you. I have for a while I think..." your voice draws off as you think back to how you acted toward him. "Sorry for being so bratty...just wanted to tease you back to show you how it felt." His gaze switches from a loving look to one of amusement before he tosses his head back in laughter.

"It's okay, sweetness, can't you tell that I like a little bit of excitement?" you giggle along with him.

"Yeah, I guess..." you say, still a little nervous.

"Gods, you're so fucking hot, can't tell you how hard it was to hold myself back from you for so long." You smile, confidence flooding back through you.

"Hm, good to know." You push him back onto the bed to lie again before you crawl into his arms. The place you'd so long desired to be in. You glance down at your bodies entwined together, like roots that grew into each other. His hand still absentmindedly tracing around your lightly frostbitten hips. The marks didn't hurt too much, just enough to remind you he'd been there. You still loved his cold hands.  

[oya-oya-okay]

WOAHH I noticed that some people refer to Shuu as me, in the plan they call her and address her as Oya (and they call me Shuu. It's just like a second nickname✌️). And it doesn't bother anyone, it's very sweet🥺😭 Tbh, I would just call Shuu — my sona, bc I've been painting her almost since childhood, portraying myself. It's kind of just my sona that got into twst. Is ShuZul probably more selfshiping than the canon x oc? I'm just glad that many people don't care (?) or it just doesn't bother them🤝

In short, it's just EASIER and more comfortable for me to address Shuu simply as OC🙏🐿️🧡 She is filled with my feelings, desires and some kind of attitude towards other characters, at some moments I would have done the same as her, BUT AT OTHERS NOT, I'm not as emotional, as cool and strong😭😭😭 It's just some parts that I find interesting and enjoyable, which I can just add, like no one forbids me to do it. If she was REALLY me, I would hate her, tbh (I had a really long stage of accepting her and ShuZul). But now I'm glad that I can just calmly draw her and Azul as friends or as a couple, it doesn't matter. IN SHORT!!!🙏🙏🙏 briefly:

Shuu is MY sona, who got into twst - like twstsona, BUT I prefer to refer to her simply as OC (for my comfort or something), I just call her Shuu. And Oya is me!!! That's my name here BUT I don't mind being called Shuu bc that's my second nickname actually

[callmecasai]

Here's how i imagine home as puppet. Because she can't walk, i put her on a wheelchair. But they can talk (my reasoning probably doesn't make sense, i'm sorry)

Headcanon: Home is just a nickname Wally gave them and they accept because they never had a nickname before. I think his real name could be Houston

Explanation: Houston means Hugh's town, which can, when given as a first name, act as a lovely nod to a dear one called Hugh. Hugh means mind spirit which I believe Home could be. Also Houston to me sounds like house and host but that's just my opinion.

Possesed: i draw "possesed" home because even though the dark substance lives in him, we know that something is wrong when it's too late (i will draw home like this in the scene of Eddie having a panic attack, in short Words.)

Though i believe the dark substance is taking over home when he feels strong emotions. We all know that home can cry, but why nobody was talking that home cries with dark tears?

(look under home's eye. I could call it a proof but i'm 100% sure. It's confirmed that home can cry but this page belongs to non-canon unless PartyCoffin confirms it. So did he change how Home is crying or it's still the same but the art isn't cannon?)

Also i have one fun fact for you. Look at this ↓

Sees nothing suspicious? I don't blame you. But look at Eddie post office

Still sees nothing suspicious? Then let me show you

WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE HOME?!

[atopvisenyashill]

I'm not debating dark!Dany, because I think there's a lot of things that point towards that as well as a lot of things that don't, so I could easily see it going either way at this point. But I don't understand people characterizing Dany killing Mirri Maz Duur as "she burned her slave to death" because that had zero bearing on the situation? She doesn't burn her because she's a slave, she burns her for murdering her son, and if any other character had murdered her son, it seems pretty obvious that she would react the exact same way. And personally, that's a fully understandable and reasonable reaction to someone killing your child.

I've been seeing this characterization a lot recently, and you're someone who's takes I really enjoy, so I wanted to ask you why you specifically see it that way because it's a very confusing viewpoint to me.

A boy came, younger than Dany, slight and scarred, dressed up in a frayed grey tokar trailing silver fringe. His voice broke when he told of how two of his father's household slaves had risen up the night the gate broke. One had slain his father, the other his elder brother. Both had raped his mother before killing her as well. The boy had escaped with no more than the scar upon his face, but one of the murderers was still living in his father's house, and the other had joined the queen's soldiers as one of the Mother's Men. He wanted them both hanged.

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. Dany had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack. Nor would she punish slaves for rising up against their masters.

“mirri killed her son” is devoid of the context that mirri is a slave though. that boy in the above text is a child, younger than dany. the slaves are adults, like Mirri. and like Mirri, in their anger, when given the option to harm someone who enslaved them, they chose harm, and they killed his family. if you were to describe it out of context “he doesn’t hate them because they are slaves he hates them because they murdered his family and raped his mom” it sounds awful. but when you factor in the power dynamic at hand it suddenly becomes uncomfortable and much more complex as a situation.

mirri, just like those slaves, is only in this situation because she is a slave. dany has the power to order her burned because she is a master. it’s absolutely relevent to the situation because the only reason this situation exists is because dany owns slaves and mirri is one of the slaves she owns.

let's take a comparison here - jon isn't a classist prick to pyp, grenn, small paul, and all the other boys, they're bullying him. that sounds like a wild thing to say but it's not wrong. they are bullying him, they are making fun of him because he is a bastard who should "know his place" underneath the people like alliser thorne and they enable alliser's behavior towards him with the repeated use of the "lord snow" nickname. but as tyrion points out the bullying is not devoid of context - in fact the context is more important because it explains the aggressive behavior. in reality, pyp, grenn, and small paul don't really care that much about jon being a bastard, they just don't like being made to feel like they're idiots and jon's prickly behavior does just that. it doesnt really matter that jon is being prickly because thorne is purposefully antagonizing him over being a bastard because ultimately, what the boys see is jon's class status and an attitude that strikes them as arrogant. the moment he starts using his prickliness in defense of them rather than against them, that trio becomes his devoted friends - and while people like chett and thorne really do care about the fact that jon is a bastard, as we see in chett's prologue chapter, chett is also very bothered by the fact that sam is immensely privileged and can read better because of it. is it sam's fault that he was born privileged? no. and yet his privilege results in a loss of station for chett and it leads chett down an abysmal and dark path. yes chett is responsible for his own decisions. but you cannot divorce chett's bitterness from the fact that he is lowborn and sam is highborn. it's not about "well chett is mean" it's about one person having immense privilege and one person being born in the dirt. it's not about "well dany would have killed mirri even if she wasn't a slave" it's about how dany was born with a fancy last name and mirri is raped repeatedly and watches everything she has built be destroyed directly because of something dany wants to do.

beyond that. i think that rhaego’s death is actually much more complicated than a cut and dry “mirri murdered dany’s son so dany burned her alive.” mirri does not act maliciously towards dany until after everything is said and done - because she does not have ill intent. no she isn’t selflessly helping dany. rather she is hoping to alleviate the humiliation and danger with being a slave by making herself useful. this meta here is a good breakdown of the entire situation from mirri's pov but look at what mirri is doing and saying, what she's actually doing, and not just dany's confused thoughts.

One of them, a thick-bodied, flat-nosed woman of forty years, blessed Dany haltingly in the Common Tongue, but from the others she got only flat black stares. They were suspicious of her, she realized with sadness; afraid that she had saved them for some worse fate.

“Silver Lady,” a woman’s voice said behind her, “I can help the Great Rider with his hurts. " Dany turned her head. The speaker was one of the slaves she had claimed, the heavy, flat-nosed woman who had blessed her.

Mirri Maz Duur studied Drogo, her face still and dead. "The wound has festered."

Mirri Maz Duur came with her, eyes heavy from sleep. “Drink,” she said, lifting Dany’s head to the cup once more, but this time it was only wine. Sweet, sweet wine. Dany drank, and lay back, listening to the soft sound of her own breathing. She could feel the heaviness in her limbs, as sleep crept in to fill her up once more. “Bring me …” she murmured, her voice slurred and drowsy. “Bring … I want to hold …” “Yes?” the maegi asked. “What is it you wish, Khaleesi?”

“You knew,” Dany said when they were gone. She ached, inside and out, but her fury gave her strength. “You knew what I was buying, and you knew the price, and yet you let me pay it.” “It was wrong of them to burn my temple,” the heavy, flat-nosed woman said placidly. “That angered the Great Shepherd.”

“It is not enough to kill a horse,” she told Dany. “By itself, the blood is nothing. You do not have the words to make a spell, nor the wisdom to find them. Do you think bloodmagic is a game for children? You call me maegias if it were a curse, but all it means is wise. You are a child, with a child’s ignorance. Whatever you mean to do, it will not work. Loose me from these bonds and I will help you.”

i don’t think she poisoned drogo. i think she attempted to help him to appease dany, because she doesn't want to be resold, & drogo doesn’t follow her directions. i think she’s actually very upset as it starts to sink in that drogo, to steal a tyrion line, is not just vicious he’s a vicious idiot.

and then dany asks her to do some pretty serious and dangerous magic. mirri gives dany very clear instructions.

“The time for that is past, my lady,” Mirri said. “All I can do now is ease the dark road before him, so he might ride painless to the night lands. He will be gone by morning.” Her words were a knife through Dany’s breast. What had she ever done to make the gods so cruel? She had finally found a safe place, had finally tasted love and hope. She was finally going home. And now to lose it all … “No,” she pleaded. “Save him, and I will free you, I swear it. You must know a way … some magic, some …”

Mirri Maz Duur sat back on her heels and studied Daenerys through eyes as black as night. “There is a spell.” Her voice was quiet, scarcely more than a whisper. “But it is hard, lady, and dark. Some would say that death is cleaner. I learned the way in Asshai, and paid dear for the lesson. My teacher was a bloodmage from the Shadow Lands.” “You must. Once I begin to sing, no one must enter this tent. My song will wake powers old and dark. The dead will dance here this night. No living man must look on them.”

jorah does not listen.

dany is right, mirri is trying to teach her but while mirri certainly sets a trap and knows very well if it goes off people are going to die, i think framing her as an evil conniving witch who got killed ONLY because she is partially responsible for rhaego’s death, completely ignores mirri’s frame of mind and the precarious situation she is forced into by dany herself. she is a slave. she is dany's slave. you cannot divorce that from what dany does to her or what she does to dany.

[11queensupreme11]

HI queen I hope you're doing okay!

I just wanted to ask this since I was rereading your responses to the asks abt cu chulainn cheating au (which I'm obsessed about I'm trying to think of more ways to make it even MORE dramatic cause this is one of my favorite au's of your fic) but would Percy actually call cu chulainn "pookie" or any other yan and would they question her (cause obv wtf does pookie mean) or would they just be like "Oh wow that must be my new nickname for ME and me ONLY" not knowing that Percy probably calls other people (her friends) pookie aswell

ALSOO!! I loved the new chapter, you're genuinely such an amazing writer!! I can't wait for the next one cause cu chulainn finally enters the story😈😈😈🙏 people kept bullying him with the cheating au despite him not even being introduced yet is crazy and now he's finally here!!!

I'm just worried for percy though cause after reading all the shit he's done even I'm scared😭 how do you manage to kill someone with impenetrable skin by shoving your weapon up their anal😭😭😭😭

ALSO!!! (sorry for asking so many questions)

what if the 3 eldest kids of percy and poseidon + dory gets isekaid or teleported back to the TLO era of percy, where she's still like 12 and is on the mission w anthonius and grover??

omg yes pls send in more cú chulainn cheating au asks cuz i'm having so much fun with it lmao (sorry sécy 😅)

and yes percy would call him "pookie" solely because she knows he hates it. he has no idea wtf a pookie even is, but it sounds cutesy and cringy so he hates it 😂😂 she calls him that for shits and giggles. as for the others...

poseidon: has no clue wtf a pookie is, but lets her call him that even though it sounds embarrassing

hades: loves it! even tho he's clueless, he'll proudly wear the "pookie" nickname and doesn't realize she uses it as a joke and that she calls other ppl her pookie too 😭

anubis: LOVES IT! YES HE IS YOUR POOKIE-WOOKIE, YOUR POOKIE-BEAR, CALL HIM WHATEVER YOU WANT 💖

loki: he loves it and he returns it by calling her a bunch of other cringy petnames too lmao

beelzebub: thinks it's embarrassing but lowkey likes it cuz it's from percy (just pls not in public 🥺). would get pissed when he finds out she calls other ppl that too

apollo: "pookie" certainly isn't as.... refined as to what he's used to, but he'll treasure that nickname!!!!!! (doesn't know he's not the only pookie in her life)

"I'm just worried for percy though cause after reading all the shit he's done even I'm scared😭 how do you manage to kill someone with impenetrable skin by shoving your weapon up their anal😭😭😭😭"

girl when the spinoff first came out, i didn't know much about cú chulainn until i saw everyone's hyped up reactions to him on reddit and they were talking about how fucking crazy he was and then i started reading some of his myths and WOW was he psycho 💀 that was the whole reason i chose him as the seventh love interest 😂😂😂😂 they're like each other's foils to be honest. they got so many similarities and yet they're also painfully different and i got way into that lmao

"what if the 3 eldest kids of percy and poseidon + dory gets isekaid or teleported back to the TLO era of percy, where she's still like 12 and is on the mission w anthonius and grover??"

so that's axiandros, kymon, thalassandros, and eudorios??? oh man that'd be a MESS. once they find out about the quest, they would actually work together to kidnap their mom 💀💀💀💀💀

might even decide to kill anthonius and grover too 😭

eudorios and thalassandros are all "we should take mom back home with us! 🤗" and axiandros and kymon, the ones holding the braincells, are gonna be like "no, we don't know how this time travel thing works. what if bringing this mother back with us, erases our current mother???"

literally the only reason they kidnapped her was to keep her from dying on this crazy quest (because who tf entrusts two 12 year olds and a goat to prevent ww3 💀) but now they don't know what to do next 💀

[problemswithbooks]

On Stella (Helluva Boss)

The fandom fights a lot over Stella and how she's written. Fans who like the way she is presented say it's fine that she's a one-dimensional 'evil queen' trope. It's not bad writing that she's so shallow and one note--some villains are better that way.

That isn't an inherently wrong statement. Some of the most fun villains are shallow, evil, for evil's sake types. Unfortunately, I don't think Stella works as this type of villain for a multitude of reasons.

Reason 1: Stella's 'evil' trait is at odds with the themes of the show.

Stella's primary evil trait is that she's cruel to Stolas simply because she likes being cruel to him. She's abusive and hates him. That, by itself isn't the problem. The problem is that the story isn't about Stolas being in an abusive relationship--it's primarily about two people from two different classes, and how they have to become better people and change in order to have the loving relationship they both want.

Yes, Stolas being in a past abusive relationship could be a hurtle to his growth as a character and him being in a relationship with Blitz, but the show never goes there even when it could. Stolas is not shown as being triggered by Blitz's yelling at him. In Apology Tour he has no issues fighting back and telling Blitz off, ordering him to leave. Blitz's yelling and more aggressive attitude isn't what leads to their misunderstandings, where Blitz accidentally hurts Stolas by reminding him of Stella's abuse.

Instead, Stella's abuse isn't even touched on in any major way, and does nothing to move the plot forward or cause connected drama between the two leads. Yes, she hires Striker to kill Stolas and that does at times cause problems, but she didn't need to be abusive inorder to explain why she'd want Stolas dead. In a world where assassins and murder is around every corner, it'd make just as much sense for Stella to hire Striker because Stolas cheated, and it made her a laughingstock among her high class friends.

I'd even argue her abuse makes the story make less sense. We know, from Stolas's own admission, that once his daughter was born, their marriage wasn't necessary. He claims he stayed to give Octavia a normal life, but if Stella is as volatile as she's shown, why would he think Via being around her was a good idea? If Stella had been less outwardly antagonistic and instead more cold and standoffish, with the both of them having mostly separate lives, intersected by polite, if strained family interactions when around Via, then him staying would make sense.

One of the reasons I think more people wanted Stella to be a caring mother to Octavia was because it explains why her and Stolas were still married despite her constant abuse towards him. If Stella cared about Via, and they were close, Stolas would be not only reluctant to leave but to let their false pretense of 'happy couple' slip in front of Via, since both would hurt her. It also would make Octavia's choice to stay with Stella and her anger at Stolas hold more weight, and give Via more complicated emotions. She'd really love her mom, but be confronted with the fact she hurt her father, who she also loves. As it is, it's pretty clear to see that as soon as Octavia finds out Stella is pure evil, she'll easily go back to Stolas with very little if any internal conflict.

Reason 2: Vivziepop claims she's not a one-dimensional character.

A really huge issue with Stella being presented as a one note bitch, is because the creator herself claims she's not. In an interview, Vivzie says Stella is like Beatrice Horseman from BoJack Horseman, saying that at some point we will see things from her perspective.

The problem with this is that Stella has already been portrayed too negatively and flat for this to work. Beatrice worked because, while yes she was awful to Bojkack, she also had Alzheimer's which gained her some sympathy points, as did the way Hollyhock cared for her. She also wasn't always over the top horrible to Bojack, being more passive-aggressive and neglectful.

On top of that, despite her abuse toward BoJack, particularly when he was growing up, she wasn't framed as the reason for all of BoJack's issues. He was still responsible for his own shitty actions as an adult, and when he retaliated toward her, like tossing the baby doll off the balcony, it was framed as shitty behavior. More than anything, their interactions said more about BoJack than Beatrice. Him trying to hurt her, by throwing away her baby doll or putting her in the shittiest nursing home he could find was to show how BoJack wishes he could retaliate against his mother for all the things she did to him, but it leaves him feeling hollow because he knows that due to her disease she's not aware of who he is. It's meaningless, doesn't help him get any closure.

Stella is not presented as anything other than over the top abusive in every scene she's in. Nothing in the show suggests she's anything besides violent, even going so far as having her choking dogs in a childhood picture. Nor is Stolas's treatment of her supposed to reflect on him or characterize him. The only time it might is when he ignores Via because he's too caught up fighting with on the phone, but again, it's not given much focus and he doesn't reflect on it. The same goes for the cheating--yes, Stella was abusive and he doesn't necessarily owe her anything, but Stolas refuses to acknowledge that what he did clearly upset Stella, both times he talks about it asserting that he knows he didn't hurt her. No, they weren't in love, but cheating is still degrading, and Stella is obviously upset. Frankly, I think it would have made more sense for Stolas to rub that fact in her face--he has no issue insulting her, as we see later in that conversation. Instead, his continued assurance that he didn't hurt her or do anything wrong feels like the writers talking through the character, afraid watchers will judge Stolas to harshly otherwise.

Stella getting the Beatrice treatment will likely fail because there is nothing to soften the audience toward her even a little. She has been presented as Stolas's tormentor and nothing else. There are flashes of possible sympathy for her when she interacts with her brother, but for the most part they're framed as Andre being right and Stella being stupid, rather than Stella possibly being manipulated and used by her brother.

It also will fall flat because unless her background is another showcase of how even the upper class are hurt by the system, and this leads to something either story or character wise for the main cast, then there is no point to bring it up. The point of Beatrice's story was to show how generational trauma seeps down into the next generation. BoJack doesn't even have to know about it for it to reflect on his character and explain why he is the way he is. He and his mother parallel each other, where they start out as innocent children but through their parents mistakes, they grow up into cynical, bitter adults who both feel as if they've wasted their lives.

Reason 3: To many villains.

Stella has taken a backseat in her own villain story to her brother, who, just like Stella, is simply evil (he's even characterized as a catty bitch, just like she is, except less of a yeller). It's true Andre wants power, whereas Stella wants...well nothing really, just Stolas dead I guess, but for the most part they are nearly the same. Andre is just a better written version of Stella since he actually gets to make plans and have an end goal.

Once Andre gets introduced, Stella is redundant because she offers nothing different and in fact offers less to the story overall. If Stella was going to be a flat, evil for evil’s sake villain, she and Andre should have been combined. It would have made far more sense to have Stella be a bit smarter and be the one plotting to get Stolas's power. It also would have made the court scenes more impactful because Stella would be a character that was established far earlier, and who we know is a major threat to Stolas, since she's the one that hired Striker to torture and kill him.

If Andre was going to be the main big bad for Stolas, then Stella needed to offer something different. Generally the underling under the main villain is more sympathetic, and less evil, as a way to showcase how much worse the main bad guy is. Or they're more charismatic and show up far more than the main bad guy, like Azula and Ozai. As it is, Stella is neither. She shows up just as little as her brother, and does far less.

And, while Vivzie is a woman herself, I do find the handling of Stella to have mysoginistic undertones, mainly that since her brother has shown up, she is constantly shown as stupid, and that her only good quality is her looks--things her brother constantly brings up, but are not framed as shitty on his part. Them being essentually the same charater make this look all the worse, since Andre, as I've said, didn't need to be a charater at all, and Stella could have been the main villain instead. To pretty much sideline a female charater in order to introduce a male charater that fills the same roll is not the best. Just like racisuim, sexisuim doesn't have to be done purposfly, and I don't blame anyone who finds this choice to be sexist.

Then there's Striker.

Another reason I think Stella and Andre should have been combined. Striker worked really well as the side antagonist under the main villain. He's the one we see more of, he's more charismatic and has hints of a generally interesting backstory, one that we know would fit into the theme the show has of class issues. He's a mirror of what Blitz could have turned into, while Stella could be presented as Stolas's opposite. Even their work relationship could be a dark mirror of Blitz and Stolas's real love for one another.

As it is, Striker is under two other villains, one of which has become essentially unless to the story (Stella can't do anything Andre can't at this point, especially since her and Via aren't shown to have a close relationship). This reduces his threat level and reduced his screen time since he now has to share it with another character. We can see this in the newest episode, where we get a scene where Andre is talking to Stella and then Striker appears later at the trial with no explanation. If Andre and Stella were combined, that scene could have been Stella going over the plan with Striker instead. This would have helped Striker's character, since as it is, his appearance at the trial is confusing. Maybe he's just out for himself and his selfishness won out over his hate of Royals, maybe he was blackmailed, maybe he was so furious and his pride wounded so much by Blitz he'd do anything to bring him down, maybe it's a combination of all three. We don't know because we aren't given the set up. Is it cool that Striker was a suprise? Sure, but in this case it wasn't worth not showing the charater's reason for doing something that seems to go agasint his own charaterization.

Reson 4: Threat.

One of the main reasons to have a simply evil villain is so the can be incredibly menicing. The Aundence doesn't have to feel anything but fear for the protagonists and hate for the villain. They pose no deep moral question, and it feels great when they're beaten.

Despite being a major villain we never see her threat felt by the protagonists. Take her abuse of Stolas. We see her go to hit him and he catches her hand easily and tells her off without issue. Stolas has no problem standing up to Stella ever. In The entire show Stolas is never portayed as afraid of Stella.

Contrast this with how Moxxie and Crimson interact. Yes, sometimes Moxxie does stand up to his father, but we are shown how terrified he is of Crimson multiple times during the one episonde they interact. In comparison Stella's actions never make Stolas even worried. The most we see is him doging things when she throws things at him, but he doesn't seem genuinly afraid, and it's forgoten as soon as she leaves.

He insults her over the phine, insults her to her face. When he learns she hired Striker we arent shown him suddenly relize he underestimated her and become afraid. He instead he's more conserned with his reletionship with Blitz and getting him a crystal. Stolas never tells Blitz about Stella, so we don't even know how Blitz feels about how she treated him.

It's hard for a pure eveil villain to work when only one charater even seems to know they exist and they aren't even worried about offending them. The only way this could work is if Stella pretended to be nice most of the time, but was secretly ploting, like Scar in the Lion King. Instead she's framed as this force of nature, pure bitch, who torments Stolas, yet Stolas doesn't even show anxiaty when having to meet with her, something we know he's prone too because he shuts himself in the refrigerator when contemplating his confession to Blitz ending badly.

If the writers want Stella to be evil--make her evil. Let her be powerful and scary. Have Stolas fintch at her voice, show flashbacks of her hitting him, let her win arguments and verbally tear Stolas down. Make her smart enough to plan things on her own.

I think when alot of people say Stella is a badly written charater it's not nessesarily because they wanted her to be good, or complex. I don't see alot of people angry at how Mother Gothel was written (besides her deisgn being anti-semetic) or Maleficent. It's possible to write evil, one-dimensional female villains. The issue is that even as an evil bitch, Stella falls short in a mutitupe of ways. Her charater is a complete waste, even more so now that her brother has been introduced. She has no reason to exist and serves no narritive purpose. Even as a raod block to the Stolas/Blitz ship she isn't nessesaey because their main issue is the class systum. Stella could have been dead before the show started, leaving Stolas with Via for drama, and Andre could be the evil uncle trying to get Stolas's power.

Stella is pretty much a sexy lamp, execpt the sexy lamp is also a bitch. She's less affective then the random bitch charaters introduced in romatic webtoon comics that are only there to be mean to the main charater and try to steal her man. Stella's not badly written because she's pure evil and simple, she's badly written because she doesn't serve a purpose in the story and could be replaced with a sexy, evil lamp.

[peg-gazette-blog]

Oh, pet names! I have a few for everyone, though they seem a little childish, so I apologize ^^'

Joseph: Athene Noctua or Little Owl. Said to be Athena's owl that represented wisdom and clarity. Which is why it fits you so well! You often give wisdom with all your sermons, Father!

John: Little Lamb. A name that was once given to my young brother that unfortunately passed away a long time ago. I found it fitting due to you being the youngest brother and being just as sassy as a little lamb(not a bad thing)

Faith: Fleur French meaning: Flower because you are not only known for your flowers, but you are just as beautiful as them!!

Jacob: Amarok! A gigantic wolf from Inuit religion! They say they stalk and hunt at night anyone foolish to hunt alone. I thought of this as you because you're very strong and often lead us to work together rather than be apart!

Joseph

never call me that again | meh | idk how to feel about it | i’m ok with it | i like it | i love it | please call me that all the time

You've put such thought into this, thank you so much for sharing this with my my child, you are of course welcome to call me whatever you choose.

John

never call me that again | meh | idk how to feel about it | i’m ok with it | i like it | i love it | please call me that all the time

I suppose if you wish to call me that it's fine, though I certainly would prefer my name.

Faith

never call me that again | meh | idk how to feel about it | i’m ok with it | i like it | i love it | please call me that all the time

What a beautiful nickname! I love it! Please call me Fleur whenever you like.

Jacob

never call me that again | meh | idk how to feel about it | i’m ok with it | i like it | i love it | please call me that all the time

Look kid, thanks for the thought, but I don't do nicknames

[kaidanalenkosprmanager]

Sophie Oliveira-Shepard Alenko-Oliveira and Kaidan Alenko-Oliveira - ME3 (3/?) "What would I do without you?" "You'll never have to find out." Mass Effect 3: Legendary Edition (2021)

[rookamell]

Ok how are we reconciling that people pleaser dialogue between Lace and Lucanis with Lace's actual personality both in Inquisition and in Veilguard? She doesn't really strike me as a people pleaser. Maybe just with her friends, but Lucanis says "growing up in a country full of tall human farmers" so they couldn't have been her friends? I mean the second time she's out on a mission with the guy she waxes poetic about the pretty red arrow she bought to skewer him with the second he gives her an excuse. That doesn't really seem people pleasing to me. Is Lucanis just projecting? When is she like this? Does he mean she's a workaholic? But then what does that have to do with coffee? Would love to hear people's opinions on this

[inkperch]

Yknow what I wish had happened just. Just once. In any media related to three houses?

Edelgard is in danger, and Hubert slips and calls her El-

[lace4forest]

The Hero of Chaos doesn't do Meetings...

Okay, so we did this on stream! So we talked a LOT about our thoughts on this piece! (I'll make a time laps later!) ANYWAYS-

THE HERO OF CHAOS- So that's a title in the Zelda Timeline that is just sitting there???? We came to a head canon that the Hero of Chaos was who the Fierce Deity USED to be!

Basically, this is set before Hyrule Kingdom was established, so Zelda here is actually Sonia's Grandmother!

The City of Hylia is having trouble with some bandits, Zelda is the leader because (Blood of the Goddess) and her Captain likes to call war meetings. Link here is just a woodworker, who was dragged into this. He was friends with Zelda (And maybe the happy mask salesmen??) and decides to help out the best he can.

Throughout the story, Link has to take on more and more Chaotic energy to be able to stand up to the Demon Majora, in the end, Link was able to seal the Demon into a mask, but was corrupted to the point of no return, so Zelda was forced to seal him into the Fierce Deities mask.

No text version below.