#But I have given myself satisfaction at least

[corvinaazul]

"neither very young nor very gay."

("nem muito jovem nem muito gay.")

#janeAusten

Colonel Brandon is not stoic or reserved

Stoic: a person who has great self-control and doesn't let themself be guided or carried away by their feelings.

Reserved: a person who keeps silent or says very little.

So, let's do this (hopefully) once and for all: who is colonel Brandon?

The first bit of important context to remember is that Sense and Sensibility was in origin, an epistolary novel, and that even more than Pride and Prejudice and other Austen novels, free indirect speech reigns supreme here; how characters think of each other doesn't necessarily line up with what the characters show themselves to be, and sometimes an opinion will evolve throughout the book.

Our first introduction to colonel Brandon is through the eyes of sir John Middleton: he describes him as "neither very young nor very gay."; the first impression the Dashwoods make of him is that he is "silent and grave", "his face was not handsome, his countenance was sensible, and his address was particularly gentlemanlike"; Marianne and Margaret in particular see him as "an absolute old bachelor".

That very evening he listens to Marianne play with attention, but without raptures; Marianne sees this as a sign of his having outlived sensibility, Mrs Jennings as a clear sign of his being smitten with her playing, and consequently, with her. The same action is being read by two characters in incongrous ways. What he specifically thought or felt from his pov, we do not know.

So Mrs Jennings starts her teasing of them both, which is implied to be conducted when they aren't together: "At the park she laughed at the colonel, and in the cottage at Marianne." Brandon's reaction to this regarding himself is probably, perfect indifference.

Time passes, Marianne has her fall, and sir John gives the opinion that Brandon will be jealous, as he is "quite smitten already". This is sir John's opinion, but is it the truth? We are never shown Brandon behaving jealously, and his feelings towards Marianne only begin to be apparent to Elinor when a little time has passed and everyone has moved on: "the raillery which the other had incurred before any partiality arose, was removed when his feelings began really to call for the ridicule so justly annexed to sensibility." Elinor thinks there is opposition between Brandon and Marianne's characters, as he appears to her silent, grave, and reserved, but she also thinks that this is not his natural disposition: "his reserve appeared rather the result of some oppression of spirits than of any natural gloominess of temper.".

You'd say "well, there you have it! That's how he is described in the book!" but then as Elinor debates over Brandon with Marianne and Willoughby, we discover she is the one that has been seeking to chat with him, and that all the subjects they have talked about are rather technical: "I have found him capable of giving me much information on various subjects; and he has always answered my inquiries with readiness of good-breeding and good nature.” He clearly is pleased to talk to Elinor, and talk extensively about whatever she asks. So... silent? doesn't seem like it.

Marianne, who at this point apparently hasn't had any of the sort of conversation Elinor has had with him (and so Elinor tells her, that her opinions are based on her own imagination) says "that he has neither genius, taste, nor spirit. That his understanding has no brilliancy, his feelings no ardour, and his voice no expression." In Willoughby's company, she has lost her respect and compassion towards Brandon; this description is an echo of Willoughby's feelings towards him, for which he gives no reasonable explanation ("he threatened me with rain when I wanted it to be fine; he has found fault with the hanging of my curricle, and I cannot persuade him to buy my brown mare.").

Till this point we have never personally seen him talk; the first time we do, is an evening at the park, there's dancing going on and Elinor and him are sitting close, watching the dancers in silence. This time it is he who opens the conversation instead of Elinor, and what does he want to talk about? Marianne's thoughts about second attachments. He's thinking about what would she think of his now having fallen in love again; he's thinking if an allowance can be made for his own situation, where his first love was frustrated without fault of his own or his beloved. Seeing Willoughby and Marianne together makes him remember himself and Eliza when they were younger (rather than make him jealous, as sir John would say). He's thinking all of this out loud with Elinor, and naturally starts to explain himself, when he realizes some of the story isn't really his to tell freely to a stranger, and so he stops. In the middle, he also defends Marianne's sensibility, and while he acknowledges it is extreme, he cannot agree with Elinor that a complete change of ways is desirable.

This is not what reserve and gravity look like at all. It may be that Elinor has been led by sir John's first description, it may be that she set the tone of all their previous conversations, it may be that, as he is the only agreeable person around her, she has projected some of her own character onto him, it may be a bit of each, but her description of him does not match what we see here. Does that change later on?

Next time we hear of him, he's joining lady Middleton in talking about the weather when Margaret starts talking about Edward, as he is "on every occasion mindful of the feelings of others". That same day the party to go to Whitwell is formed (spontaneously, apparently, as sir John makes parties to go there twice a year) for the next day, when Brandon receives the mysterious letter. How does he react to it? upon seeing the address, he changes color and leaves the room before opening it. This is not what stoicism looks like.

He refuses to tell what his errand is, apologizes to everyone and specially to lady Middleton, asks Elinor if he'll see them in London, bows to Marianne and leaves. His not telling them is part of the mystery that makes the plotline, but also you don't need to be particularly reserved to avoid telling a party of people (including the Careys, two complete strangers) that your missing ward has turned up, pregnant. If there was any doubt that Marianne, when with Willoughby, thinks as he does, she agrees with him that Brandon invented the whole affair to avoid going to Whitwell.

Next time we hear about him, is from Mrs Palmer. She's, probably, the most unreliable of the characters, and most of the humor of her character comes from that: she tells Elinor that Brandon confirmed to her that Marianne and Willoughby are engaged, but when pressed she says that he didn't say anything but looked as if he knew it to be true (which means it is more likely that he was given the impression from her rather than the other way around). She also calls Brandon "grave and dull" right after calling him "charming". She tells Elinor he wanted to marry her, to then confess it was something sir John seemed to want, and that Brandon had never shown her any particular signs of affection and that he hadn't seen her more than twice at that point. Nothing to be learned here, but it is interesting that Brandon, hinted here and in his conversation with Elinor about second attachments, has not sought marriage after he lost Eliza; clearly the practicality or convenience of marriage for the sake of home and heir was not something on his mind; he's not pragmatic, not even to the level of Wenthworth and his boasts that any woman of suitable age would do for him.

He then goes on visiting them, to talk to Elinor and look at Marianne; Elinor guesses it's just his growing love for Marianne, and so do we because we don't know what he knows yet. He's still deciding, and does go back and forth between attempting to start saying what he knows, and silencing himself. His saying that he has no right or chance of succeeding carries a double meaning we will only understand later. Under the guise of """revealing""" his feelings for Marianne, he's trying to gauge how his revelation of Willoughby's character would be taken and if it would be believed or not, if it can be useful or not. He decides on the negative, but even then he cannot help but hint at what he knows, as he says "in a voice of emotion" “to your sister I wish all imaginable happiness; to Willoughby that he may endeavour to deserve her".

Brandon shows up next to visit Mrs Jennings, Elinor and Marianne, once they have arrived in London. This is the section where we see the most of him. Elinor watches him see Marianne leave the room, and to her he seems astonished and concerned, so much so he outright asks if Marianne is ill, before even greeting Elinor properly. They make small talk but they are both distracted by things they cannot talk about to each other. He replies to Mrs Jennings inquiries with his "accustomary mildness", and grows even more thoughtful and silent when Marianne comes in again, and soon afterwards, he leaves. All these reactions are manifest, there's no concealment. In retrospective, we know at that point he had dueled Willoughby, and was trying to decide if he should tell them about the affair or not.

When everything comes crashing down, Mrs Jennings tells Elinor that Brandon will have Marianne now, that they will be married by midsummer, and that he will chuckle when he hears the news. Yet another case of Mrs Jennings not knowing what she's talking about XD That afternoon Brandon shows up, she thinks he doesn't know what happened, but Elinor thinks he does, and she's right. He asks Elinor about how Marianne is feeling and what does she think of the affair, and he's still serious and thoughtful; he's still thinking what to do, and will leave this time without telling what he knows.

When he does finally tell Elinor, he still has scruples of conscience about his own motives: "where so many hours have been spent in convincing myself that I am right, is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?" (which reinforces the idea that his asking Elinor about the engagement was more about what he knew of Willoughby than about his chance at pursuing Marianne being lost, besides the obvious fact that he kept away from Barton even after young Eliza's affair was completely resolved).

He tells his story to Elinor (including the attempted elopement with Eliza, his leaving to try and protect her, his looking for her until he found her, and his taking care of her and her child, and how the whole thing haunts him so many years later. This is not what an unromantic, pragmatic, stoic character does), and these are the things he does while at it: "sighing heavily" "He stopt a moment for recollection, and then, with another sigh, went on." "he continued, in a voice of great agitation" "He could say no more, and rising hastily walked for a few minutes about the room." "He saw her concern, and coming to her, took her hand, pressed it, and kissed it with grateful respect. A few minutes more of silent exertion enabled him to proceed with composure." "Again he stopped to recover himself". Nothing about this, again, shows stoicism, reserve, or lack of tender, passionate feelings.

By the end of his tale, as he tells Elinor of the duel, she "sighed over the fancied necessity of this; but to a man and a soldier she presumed not to censure it." She's now pretty much rolling her eyes at what she thinks is excess; her opinion on Brandon is changing.

Brandon keeps on visiting them in London, making "delicate, unobtrusive enquiries"; he is invited by John Dashwood and attends the dinner at Mrs Ferrars because he's happy to be where the Miss Dashwoods are; he compliments Elinor's work, and when Marianne defends her, he "noticed only what was amiable in it, the affectionate heart which could not bear to see a sister slighted in the smallest point.", while Elinor (the sensible character token) is mortified by Marianne's rudeness. When she starts crying, he instinctively goes to them. Brandon is not being sensible or pragmatic here.

Next time we see him, he comes to offer the Delaford parsonage to Edward, and engage Elinor's help so that Edward's feelings are spared; as we were told before, he's always mindful of the feelings of others. His own feelings about the whole affair he expresses with "great compassion" as “The cruelty, the impolitic cruelty,” he replied, with great feeling, “of dividing, or attempting to divide, two young people long attached to each other, is terrible." Brandon is not being sensible, stoic or pragmatic here. John Dashwood says later on that a sensible person would have sold the living, which is very fitting to his own sense of greed, but it also gives greater relief to the fact that Brandon did this for a stranger out of sympathy with his situation.

By the time Elinor and Marianne are at Cleveland, Elinor's judgement of Brandon has been completely transformed since her first impressions of him: "she watched his eyes, while Mrs. Jennings thought only of his behaviour;—and while his looks of anxious solicitude on Marianne’s feeling, in her head and throat, the beginning of a heavy cold, because unexpressed by words, entirely escaped the latter lady’s observation;—she could discover in them the quick feelings, and needless alarm of a lover." (as a side note, this is yet another case of Elinor being wrong, as Marianne does fall dangerously ill soon later).

When Marianne finally falls ill, he makes great exertion in offering to go, but is clearly relieved when he's asked to stay; "He tried to reason himself out of fears, which the different judgment of the apothecary seemed to render absurd; but the many hours of each day in which he was left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the admission of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more."; he makes haste to go to Mrs Dashwood as soon as it is suggested, and he says goodbye to Elinor "pressing her hand with a look of solemnity, and a few words spoken too low to reach her ear". This is not what a stoic, dour character does.

When Mrs Dashwood tells Elinor of Brandon communicating his love for Marianne to her, we cannot be certain how and how much he said; Mrs Dashwood says that he loved her since the moment he first saw her, but we know that was not the case: she's not a reliable narrator. Elinor, despite having heard and seen what she has, still tells herself that Marianne could not be happy with Brandon considering their ages (fair), their feelings (fair), and their characters (not so fair); she's also not completely reliable, because, as the end of the chapter tells, Marianne being at Delaford would force her to go there where Edward would be with Lucy.

We are given a contrast of what Brandon thinks of the case ("He thinks Marianne’s affection too deeply rooted for any change in it under a great length of time, and even supposing her heart again free, is too diffident of himself to believe, that with such a difference of age and disposition he could ever attach her." - he doesn't mean to propose and refuses to accept any encouragement from Mrs Dashwood on that front; that's why I say that he would not have asked if Marianne herself had not provided heavy encouragement) and what Mrs Dashwood thinks of the case (his disposition, I am well convinced, is exactly the very one to make your sister happy. And his person, his manners too, are all in his favour... the Colonel’s manners are not only more pleasing to me than Willoughby’s ever were, but they are of a kind I well know to be more solidly attaching to Marianne. Their gentleness, their genuine attention to other people, and their manly unstudied simplicity is much more accordant with her real disposition, than the liveliness, often artificial, and often ill-timed of the other."). It is for the reader to make up their mind, but ultimately we know Mrs Dashwood tends to be too sanguine , and Brandon too melancholy: the truth likely lies on a middle ground, which fits the ending of the novel. It takes Marianne a time to give up Willoughby and another time to love Brandon, but she does in the end and is truly happy with him.

Similarly, when Marianne asks him to visit her, Elinor thinks he's remembering Eliza and therefore very melancholy, while Mrs Dashwood thinks he just looks in love. How he really feels, we never get to know. Elinor has a personal motivation to believe a match won't happen, Mrs Dashwood has a personal motivation to believe the opposite (it is worth noticing that once Elinor was engaged to Edward, all her aprehensions about Brandon and Marianne not being suited for each other vanished).

Once the Dashwoods leave for Barton, he says he'll visit in a few weeks and goes to Delaford, where he stays until Mrs Dashwood's insistence by letter makes him visit. In the meantime, he "in his evening hours at least, he had little to do but to calculate the disproportion between thirty-six and seventeen, brought him to Barton in a temper of mind which needed all the improvement in Marianne’s looks, all the kindness of her welcome, and all the encouragement of her mother’s language, to make it cheerful." This is an emotional man who also very much respects the space and the feelings of the woman he loves, and is aware of the difficulties.

All that we hear of him after this is his leaving with Edward to prepare the parsonage, his efforts to make it comfortable for Elinor, and that once married to Marianne "her regard and her society restored his mind to animation, and his spirits to cheerfulness."; his gloominess and melancholy were as much part of his character as Marianne's were when she was grieving the loss of Willoughby; the text itself connects their life journeys in that parallel: "and that other, a man who had suffered no less than herself under the event of a former attachment".

TL; DR (it is, indeed, a very long post, I'm sorry but I wanted to be thorough): Brandon's actions and speeches show him to be emotional, passionate, sensitive, and emotionally open and demonstrative; whenever he is called grave, silent, reserved, etc, it comes from a place of a character not knowing him well yet, having a much more boisterous personality than him, projecting onto him, or his very own melancholy talking. Readers should keep in mind the extensive use of indirect free speech that Austen does in this novel.

[orcelito]

Ykno the suckiest thing about being broken up with for someone else is that like. Well I'm doing generally fine, all things considered, but I Am kinda sad thinking about the things I've lost and all the casual affection that I can't have now.

But she's out there having all the affection she wants from her coworker, and it's just like. Damn this feels so skewed and SO unfair.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (6/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Never before had the wooden ceiling of a bed seemed so interesting to her.

The Maester was trying to be gentle and his touch was respectful – she knew that, but still what he was doing, the fact that there were other people around behind the cream curtains made her tense, even though she knew the verdict would be one.

When the examination was finally completed she sighed quietly and swallowed hard, rising on her elbow – she lowered her skirt down thinking she wouldn't give them the satisfaction and cry – Maester's voice and what he said was like honey to her ears.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt."

A moment later, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing with a loud slam.

Prince Aemond gave everyone an expression of his fury at this obviously unfounded accusation.

She took a quiet breath as someone pulled aside one of the veils – the king's face seemed satisfied, as if not the end result but the fact that he had once again shown his brother who had the last word was his reward.

"I am relieved, dear cousin, that you have come to no harm under my brother's care. I hope you understand that in no way did I mean to offend you or undermine your virtue." He said lightly, knowing that she could not reply anything other than to confirm his certainly sincere and good intentions.

"I am grateful to you for your concern, Your Grace." She replied, looking him straight in the eye, to her surprise feeling neither bitterness nor regret.

This would at least cut off any further gossip about her and the tongue of the servant who had given her pleasure that day, as promised by the prince.

She guessed he would not leave it at that.

"I wish to see your dragon and judge for myself the value he will bring to the upcoming battles. I also want him to stay in the Dragon's Pit with the rest of the dragons and not with Vhagar." He said, and she nodded, knowing that there was no point in standing up.

This brother or another, what difference did it make.

"He is still wild and untamed, my King. Accustomed to freedom. I fear that sudden confinement may kill his spirit." She replied softly.

Aegon nodded.

"I may yet change my decision. For now, I want to see him."

In accordance with his desire, he, she and a retinue consisting of several members of the Kingsguard, including Ser Criston Cole, set off on horseback to Vhagar's lair where the two dragons rested.

When they arrived, she felt joy, or rather a new kind of it, one she had experienced for the first time when she saw Sheepstealer.

Her dragon squawked happily at the sight of her, coming quickly up to her on his paws, watching her from all sides, intrigued, paying no attention to the other newcomers.

He was as sweet as a baby, she thought with tenderness, lonely for long years, craving tenderness, understanding and attention as much as she did.

He was everything she was, which is why the moment she first looked into his eyes she knew she would succeed in taming him.

She knew what he needed and she was able to give it to him, and he reciprocated.

Her dragon was the only man she needed.

"Magnificent. Fierce. And large indeed. Bigger than Sunfyre. Very well." Exclaimed the King with a smile, clearly pleased and reassured.

When his brother was not next to him he felt in control of the situation again.

She stroked the muzzle of her dragon, for some reason also smiling, its scales under her skin hard and rough.

"We are at your service, my King." She replied, wanting to be sure they would leave her alone.

She just wanted to be close to her dragon, nothing more.

"Good. You and my brother will take turns patrolling the sky daily. This will relieve the burden on Vhagar and allow the prince to attend to other, equally important matters." He said, and she nodded.

"Present our subjects with our new dragon. Show them that we are stronger than ever." He commanded, and she held back the smile of amusement that pressed across her face.

Is that so?

Outside? Maybe.

But inside, they were one rotten fruit.

"My King."

Flying over King's Landing was a kind of liberation for her – she felt she was showing not only the world what she had become, but more importantly her father.

She hoped, feeling the wind in her hair, whirling on the Sheepstealer in the skies with laughter, that Daemon was throwing his cups in Dragonstone out of rage, cursing the day she was born.

Although she hated her heritage and her name, it was the dragon that saved her and gave her life meaning.

It felt like they understood each other without words, that one move of hers was enough to make him change his flight course to where she wanted or dive down.

Once they landed, she always spent a bit of time with him, lying on the grass beside him, stroking his muzzle – she wanted him to know that he wasn't just her tool that she used.

No.

She felt something completely different that filled her heart wonderfully.

Love.

Looking out of the corner of her eye at Vhagar lying in the distance, plunged into a deep sleep, completely ignoring them, she wondered if these were the feelings that Prince Aemond had for his dragoness.

You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh.

This was not an expression of his pride then.

It was an expression of his deep affection for her.

She smiled at this thought, recognising that at last she understood him.

Her expression was gentle and contented when, walking down the corridor of the Red Keep with a guard who did not leave her side, she came across him, apparently heading for Vhagar's liege.

"Where have you been?" He asked disturbed, seeing her riding attire.

She sighed quietly, pulling her black leather gloves from her hands.

"The King ordered that we take turns patrolling the skies. I have done that duty today. You may rest." She said, and he swallowed hard, something expression in his face as if he felt discomfort.

Another thing he was taking away from him, she thought.

"Leave us." He directed his cold words to the guard. He nodded and walked away with the quiet clang of his steel armour.

The prince moved away towards the cloisters, and she moved with him.

He didn't want anyone to hear their conversation.

"What did you say to him?" He asked, looking sideways, as if he couldn't bear to see her.

"To whom?"

"To my brother. Did you betray me?" He asked coldly, throwing her a drawn-out, stern look.

She sighed heavily and shook her head, closing her eyes, tired after the physical exertion, not having the strength for his baseless accusations.

"How?" She asked, his jaw clenched, his body upright and tense.

"Don't play a fucking fool. You know perfectly well what I'm referring to."

She laughed at his words, shrugging her shoulders, bringing him to the brink of fury.

She could see it in his wide-open eye, in his feral, furious gaze.

"I know, but I haven't told him anything and I won't. It's not in my nature to complicate a situation where I'm comfortable. Being your enemy is not my desire. The lack of your unity drastically reduces my chances of survival, and having tamed the dragon, its value in my eyes has increased greatly." She said lightly, looking him straight in the eye, seeing that his hands entwined behind his back were clenched into fists.

He hated it when she spoke to him like that, but he couldn't do anything to her in public.

"I also wish for you to continue to teach me the language of Old Valyria. In return, I will report to you on what I am asked and what the King tells me to soothe your troubled soul." She hummed with a smile, watching with satisfaction as he drew in a loud breath and licked his lower lip, apparently trying not to use his hands on her long neck.

"Do we have an agreement, my Prince?" She asked, cocking her head.

He sighed, glancing sideways, and shook his head, clearly not believing that he had consented to such humiliation.

"In the library. Every day, right after supper."

She learned of Lady Floris Baratheon's arrival in the Red Keep from her maid – braiding some of her hair at the back of her head, she told her of what she had seen.

"Lady Floris arrived in a brown gown embroidered with gold thread. Her hair is black and long, pinned up in a braid, smoothed down in front, her forehead high, her gaze proud and solemn. Her smile, in my opinion, has no lightness or conviction." Said Lysa, and she giggled under her breath, looking at her and herself in the reflection of the mirror.

"What a harsh judgement. Perhaps it was that smile that the prince found so charming that he chose her." She replied lightly, thinking with amusement that her cousin was surely writhing in agony right now, entertaining his betrothed.

Good, she thought.

Let him suffer.

"Perhaps, however, the memory of that day must spend his sleep." Said Lysa, gracefully weaving one of her strands in with the rest of her hairstyle.

She blinked, intrigued.

"What do you mean?"

Lysa looked at her surprised, as if snapped out of her reverie.

"Don't you know, my Lady? It was on this day that Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys. That poor boy. His mother searched for his remains in madness and despair, but apparently there was nothing left of him but his cloak. He was devoured by Vhagar." She explained, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him.

I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable.

She was sure she would eat her supper as usual in solitude, but it turned out that the King had held a small banquet and she was to attend.

Aegon wanted to show off her dragon and what she had done, while humiliating his brother and his betrothed, she thought wryly, walking there reluctantly.

When the door opened in front of her, she saw a long table, on either side of which sat the royal family and their loyal lords with their relatives.

She did not know where she should sit or what to do, the King, however, decided to take pity on her.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." He called out, and she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze, knowing that she couldn't react to this, that she just had to survive it.

She sat down in the only empty seat, between her cousin and the king's wife, Helaena – she was pale and sad, staring off into the distance somewhere with empty eyes.

She still had not come to terms with the death of her son.

However, as she sank into her grief and sorrow, the King, on the contrary, was bubbling over with a desire for revenge, ready for action.

When she glanced sideways, all she saw was his hand clenched into a fist, his familiar scent reached her nostrils – she swallowed quietly, twisting in her seat, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs, for some reason remembering how pleasant the touch of his fingers was there, sinking into her damp folds.

She reached for her wine cup and took a loud sip from it, not bothering to look to the side, her gaze fixed on the Queen Alicent who sat opposite her.

"My Lady." She heard an unfamiliar female voice directed in her side and she let out a quiet breath, taking another sip from her goblet, hearing her cousin twist restlessly in his chair.

She looked at Floris Baratheon and forced herself to give her the kindest, warmest smile she could afford. Floris was also smiling; had it not been for her gaze, she might have found her expression even sympathetic.

However, her eyebrows arched in some sort of compassion, a sign that she wanted to show her false understanding.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said softly, shaking her head as if filled with sincere admiration.

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She replied lightly, not taking her eyes off her.

Several people at the table chuckled at her words as Floris watched her for a moment, playing with the small gold ring on her heart finger.

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" She asked, as if giving her a challenge of sorts.

"Enough." She heard her cousin's impatient voice between them directed at his betrothed.

She, however, found that she was happy to answer her.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince." She replied, and Floris leaned back, intrigued.

"Support indeed needed." Aegon added, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch. "On which we all agree. Now, music!"

For the rest of the feast, she pretended to be very focused on her piece of roast, which she ate slowly, knowing that she couldn't flee immediately if she didn't want to offend the King – she didn't hold him in special esteem but she knew that he held her in some sort of affection, and after what he had accused her of after his son's death, she feared that one wrong move on her part would be enough for her to fall back into his disfavour.

True, the responsible parties had been found and the King himself had brought them justice, however, she could not let him begin to think again that she had helped her father let them into the keep.

He had to be sure that she was faithful to him.

They both had to be sure of it.

Him and his brother.

She swallowed hard, pulled out of her reverie, feeling a shudder when her cousin's knee pressed against hers. She was sure he simply wanted to change position, he, however, spread himself out comfortably, leaving his leg where it was.

Should she move away?

Do nothing?

What was that supposed to mean?

She glanced sideways at his hand out of the corner of her eye – she could see that his fingers were tapping the tabletop in some nervous, impatient gesture.

Their lessons.

Was he trying to tell her to leave and go to the library before he did, so as not to frustrate his betrothed?

She wanted to ask him that, but couldn't, so she decided she would do what she thought appropriate and simply stood up, nodding her head at the King.

"Your Grace. I will retire now, if you will allow me." She said softly, and Aegon nodded.

"I allow it." He replied, his voice through the amount of wine he had managed to drink like a babble.

Gods help me, she thought as she bowed to him and the Queen Dowager, without bestowing even a single glance on the prince or his betrothed.

She waited in her chamber for half an hour, changing in the meantime into the more comfortable, casual silk robe the Queen had given her, throwing it over her nightgown, tying it around her waist.

When she finally stepped outside her guard furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"Prince Aemond wanted to meet me in the library. Take me there." She said – the man hesitated and sighed heavily, indicating with his hand for her to go ahead.

Her cousin was already waiting for her – he gave her one protracted glance from over his open books, his eye open wide as if he was surprised by her appearance, candles all around him.

He nodded at her to sit beside him in the chair, and she did so, leaving her guard outside the door.

He moved one of the books towards her and opened it to a page he apparently wanted to discuss with her.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said matter-of-factly, sliding another book towards her and leaned in, his clearly defined cheekbone close, too close, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, feeling the tension in all the muscles of her body.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon."

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze from which her heart struck harder.

It seemed to her that his iris was black.

There was something obscenely intimate in his bent figure, in his slightly parted lips, in his proximity, the place between her thighs all swollen, increasingly moist and warm.

"Ñāqon." She whispered.

"Better." He hummed, his gaze never leaving her face even though his finger moved on to the next words, as if he knew this book by heart. "Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He said, something flashed dangerously in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what her reaction would be and he was not wrong.

She froze, clasping her hands on her thighs, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, the tightness in her throat indicating that she felt pain.

"Muña."

"Mmm. Kepa. Father."

She swallowed hard, looking at him with eyes glazed from tears, feeling her body begin to twitch. His lips parted slightly, as if what he was doing to her, the fact that she was vulnerable aroused him.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, feeling a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Kepa.

She shuddered, looking up at him in horror as his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing the wet mark from her face.

"Trēsy. Son." He continued, his voice like the sound of water, calm and quiet.

Tender, as if he were moved.

Why?

She sighed as his hand traveled lower, his index finger running over her jaw.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

She shook her head, pressing her lips together, feeling that she couldn't do it, the feeling as if he was driving needle after needle into her heart made it difficult for her to get anything out.

She sighed, closing her eyes as he leaned lower, in some natural reflex pressing his forehead against hers, his hand sinking into the skin of her neck, his warm, excited breath enveloping her face.

She involuntarily clenched her thighs together, feeling the wonderful, familiar pulsing and tickling between them.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He exhaled, something in his voice from which she felt her nipples harden, peeking through from under the fabric of her robe. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

And that was a mistake.

He was looking straight into her face.

She sighed when she felt his other hand on her knee, moving slowly up to her thigh.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, feeling her cunt begin to leak with desire against her will.

"Lēkia." He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. "Older brother."

"Lēkia." She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

She sighed as she let her hand sink into his smooth white hair, for some reason seeking comfort in him, an escape from the cold, bleak loneliness and emptiness that filled her heart.

They sank again and again into each other's soft, fleshy skin, his tongue bursting between her teeth as his hand lifted the fabric of her robe, the other clenched in her curls.

She would have cried out in shocking delight had it not been for the fact that his lips muffled all the sound she made of herself as the tips of his fingers dug into the silken folds of her womanhood, dripping and throbbing with lust.

He groaned into her throat when he felt how unashamedly wet she was for him, and she gasped when his free hand slipped from her hair to her wrist, grasping it, drawing her to his body, pressing it against the bulge in his breeches.

He murmured and licked her encouragingly as her fingers tentatively ran over the outline of his swollen manhood, hidden beneath the leather material, hard, long and twitching.

He let go of her hand, embracing her around the waist and pulling her closer as he made sure she was going to give him what he wanted, their sighs of desire melting between their plump lips as his fingers pushed against her hot slit.

She spread her legs wider, wanting to feel it, wanting him to do it to her, but they both jumped away from each other as if burned when they heard the creak of the door opening.

Her cousin wiped his hand, sticky with her moisture in his breeches, looking at his betrothed's figure, pale, and she lowered back the material of her robe, staring blankly at the books open before her.

Was she able to see by their faces, by their quickened breaths what had happened?

She felt shame at the thought that she shouldn't have done this.

She was his betrothed.

She was the one he should be touching like this.

She was the one he should spend the evening with, learning about her body.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said calmly, however, disappointment and understandable annoyance could be heard in her tone of voice.

She swallowed hard, feeling that the material beneath her buttocks was wet with her moisture, her swollen walls pulsing greedily around nothing, begging to feel his fingers again, her nipples hard and sore, clearly outlined beneath her robe.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feigning composure, looking ahead but not at her even though she stopped right beside him.

She touched one of the books and flipped a page, remaining silent for a moment.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, her hand on his shoulder.

She looked at him and saw that he had closed his eye, as if he felt discomfort the moment Lady Floris touched him.

He swallowed loudly and opened his eyelid, his gaze helpless and childlike, filled with pain.

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered, his voice weak, as if he had run out of strength.

Floris's hand slid from his shoulder to his forearm, his figure tense, his lips clamped into a tight line.

He didn't look at her.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" Floris asked, and she twisted in her seat, deciding that this conversation was too private.

These were their problems, their betrothal, their worries.

Why was she allowing herself to be dragged into this?

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said quickly, wanting to get up, his gaze shifting to her, sharp and angry.

"Daor, hāedar."

She froze in mid-motion with her hands on the table, looking at him in disbelief, feeling her walls clench around nothing at his words.

No, little sister.

Little sister.

She swallowed hard feeling her lips part involuntarily, her eyebrows arching in helplessness, the heat that spread across her chest strangely pleasant and reassuring.

Floris looked at him then at her and shook her head.

"What did you say, my love?"

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said emotionlessly, as if trying to calm a whimpering child.

Floris swallowed hard and looked at her in a way from which she felt discomfort in her stomach, a sense of humiliation, frustration and irritation in her gaze.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" She asked quietly, both of them bouncing when his fists slammed into the table, and he sprang from his seat, towering over his betrothed as if he wanted to tear her apart.

She too stood up, grabbing his arm in some helpless, naïve gesture.

"Lēkia." She said pleadingly.

Floris's lips clenched looking at the fact that she dared to touch him, that her prince looked at her and not his betrothed, that it was her opinion that counted, her word that could stop him.

And then Floris' gaze fled lower, to his breeches, and she froze, pale, seeing exactly her answer to all her concerns.

Her hand let go of him when his nostrils stopped twitching with rage, when his jaw relaxed into an expression a little softer, though still frustrated.

He finally looked at his betrothed and licked his lower lip, as if trying to control himself.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He gasped in a voice filled with mockery, from which she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze.

Floris Baratheon looked at him with eyes full of tears, and then her gaze turned to her, her lips quivering with rage and grief.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

She was unable to look at him – the silence in the chamber, his taut silhouette standing beside her made her feel like her wetness was dripping from between her thighs straight onto the stone floor beneath her feet.

"You may leave." He said finally.

She nodded and moved towards the door on soft legs, walking out into the corridor, thinking that they had both accomplished some amazing feat by not simply fucking each other on that table.

She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, thinking that maybe she wasn't such a bad person.

She figured that during their next lessons she wouldn't sit so close to him, that she wouldn't look at him or tempt him.

That she wouldn't let him touch her anymore.

She blinked, looking around, only noticing after a moment that there was no guard who should be watching her.

She turned when she heard the rustling of a gown behind her, something long and hard hit her head with all its force, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed a moment before she lost consciousness that she heard the breathy voice of her cousin's betrothed above her, only a quiet hiss left her lips.

"Whore."

[the-fiction-witch]

I'm Gonna Kill Him

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Angsty Smut!

Requested:

Hello! Before I start, I just wanted to say that I love your book so much! Could you create an imagine or a smut scene from your Jack Dawkins' book where they've broken up, and Y/N visits Jack's place that led them to having a angry/makeup sex? Then, a week later, Y/N discovers she's pregnant with his baby, which ultimately brings them back together.

Warnings : angst / angry sex, cheating, slapping, spanking, choking, biting,

I didn't want to go back, I felt like I was never going to hear the end of it. 

But I want my damn book back. 

So I got myself dressed into my black and emerald dress doing my utmost to look beautiful and glamorous, If I have to see him then god damn it he's gonna have to look at me like I'm a princess. 

I finished up and headed out into town making sure I was seen, making a point to be seen by men until I reached the hospital. I headed in proudly seeing the usual bustle of nurses and patience.

"Ohh Miss Y/n, Dr Dawkins is in his room" Hetty smiled as she saw me

"Thank you Hetty" I smiled 

"He has said he didn't want you in there miss y/n" 

"I'm well aware of what he wants." I rolled my eyes as I headed up to his room not even bothering to knock simply opened the door and saw Jack lying on his bed fiddling with a coin between his fingers, he looked up and looked annoyed 

"Ohh. What do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want. Where is it?"

"I don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about" 

"Where is my book, Jack?"

"How should I know?"

"I left it here, I missed it when I was packing, I know you have it, where is it?"

"Why would I want your mouldy old book? I don't have it." He snapped getting up from his bed

"I know you do, you're just keeping it to be hurtful"

"Hurtful! I'm not the one who went bloody psycho !"

"PSYCHO!"

"You heard me!"

"I wasn't the one who violated the sanctity of a union"

"Ohh here we go again! I didn't violate anything!"

"You liar!"

"At least she didn't kick me out of bloody bed in the morning!"

"So you admit it!"

"Yeah fine, I admit it! does that soothe your ego princess!" 

Immediately I slapped him across the face and he didn't even flinch 

".... I will never hit a woman. But your making it really fucking tempting!"

"Ohh go on then you scrawny little shit I'd like to see you try!"

"I was a naval officer you think I can't take a little lady in a fight!"

"Officer! Like hell, you only were because you sat on the right laps!" 

"How dare you!" He yelled, "You repugnant little witch!"

I went to slap him again but he grabbed my wrist before I could throwing my arm back

"Ohh you gonna hit me with your parasol too?" He glared 

"You are an unbelievable bastard! I can't believe I-"

"You what?"

"I can't believe I even considered us for a moment!"

"Yeah well same here! I dodged a bloody bullet. I'd have spent my life stuck married to you!"

"Ohh I'd have made your life a living hell every second of it just for the thrill of it!"

"You would wouldn't you! you'd have turned me into some little pitiful house husband just to spide me wouldn't you!" 

"I would I'd have torn you down so low you'd be looking up to kiss my feet!" I yelled "And I'd have taken pleasure in it you evil man! treacherous! fuckwit!"

He grabbed my waist and pulled me into a kiss, I was so very angry with him, I wanted to slap him off me but I didn't want to kiss him back I wanted to win! I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of my submission, So I kissed him with force, trying to take control, but he would not allow that so easily forcing his tongue down my throat but I argued with him even at this moment battling with him in a war of our tongues, I grabbed his shirt desperate for control but he grabbed my waist and unlaced my dress, making quick work of it given his quick nibble surgeons fingers, I didn't want him to win so I began unbuttoning his trousers, once undone he grabbed my waist and forced me down onto the bed But I grabbed his hips and forced him down flat on the mattress 

"Don't you even think about it!" He groaned flipping us over so I was under him 

"I refuse to be under such a bastard." I gritted my teeth 

"You can ride me if you wish." 

"Not on your life." 

"Open your legs, Or I'll bend you over it's up to you." 

"Maybe I'll bend you over."

"You would you little succubus!"

"Well, how else was I meant to keep up with you!"

"You always did you were a little Fucking whore for me" He growled forcing off my dress "God damn it you are an evil, conniving, little witch but god had to give you that fucking body didn't he!" 

"He didn't have to make you such an unreasonable, arrogant, illiterate, Imbosile but here we are" I smirked clawing as his shirt 

"And we both know what he gave me to make up for that" He growled pulling his suspenders off his shoulders and forcing off his shirt as he pulled me into another aggressive kiss I clawed down his chest almost drawing blood as he forced me on my knees, 

"Don't even think about it, Jack!" I glared but he forced my hips up to his and dug his nails into my ass

"I'll do much more than think about it" he smirked pushing off his trousers and forcing himself inside me, 

as much as I hated it, my anger bubbling in my bones, but... I moaned as I had missed the feeling of him inside me, he didn't waste a single moment starting his fast and angsty thrusts, pounding into me like his life utterly depended on it, I moved my hips back trying to take control but I think it was a little late for that even so I made sure to force him into the pace I wanted which only frustrated him more, the bed creaking and squeaking, his violent grunts and groans much the sounds one would make in a fight tumbling from behind me until he began to slow his breaths getting looser 

"That all you got little boy?" I smirked moving myself 

"I. Am. Not. A boy!" He groaned grabbing my hair and pulling on it to bring my ear to his lips "Don't make have to teach my succubus a lesson!" He growled bitting on my shoulder 

"Ughhhhhh! Uhhhhh!" I squealed given his pace didn't stop his angle hitting where I needed "You whore so bad you missed me this much?!" 

"Missed you? You know what I did I missed your pussy princess I've got it just how I love it. But we wanna talk about who missed who, who came here showing off like she was the fucking queen all for her little fucking book back"

"and you caved this quickly? I thought you had more resilience than that Jack?"

"Not around you I don't" He smirked moving a hand to rub my clit 

"Uhhhhhh!" I gasped and he forced me back down onto the pillow "See I knew you missed me" I gasped 

"You can't blame me for missing a pussy I've fucked for the last two years. took a long time to get you this good." 

"Like I didn't train you" I smirked "Jack please-"

"Yeah? you need me that bad you had to come see me?" he cooed "Cause you know I'm the only person in port victoria who can make you cum"

"I can do it myself then I don't have to deal with your bloody ego!"

"fine, then I'll stop-" He smirked going to sloe

"Don't you fucking dare Jack!" I groaned forcing him to move quicker until I almost ripped his sheets as I screamed reaching my high 

"fuck you sound good like that" He groaned "I could almost put up with your shit for that noise" 

"I bet you could" I smirked forcing us over so he was down on his back 

"I knew you couldn't resist" He smirked

"You dare I will slap that smirking face of yours" I warn moving to ride him as aggressively as possible 

"UGhhhhhhhh fucking- you evil little thing"

"shut up Jack," I warn bouncing and moving mercilessly on him 

"Come on then princess make me cum" He smirked 

"I said shut up!" I yelled wrapping my hands around his neck to slightly choke him 

"UUughhhhhhhhhh!" he groans "Fuck-" He gasped his hips bucking like crazy as he buried himself inside of me so I pulled my hands back and caught my breath "Fine. I admit it. I've missed you" he gasped 

"Fine. I missed you too." I sighed climbing off him and going to get my dress but he grabbed me and pulled me back into the bed so he could cuddle me my head on his chest 

"Now you have... all of that out of your system, and have had time to pout. am I allowed to actually explain myself?"

"What's there to explain, you fucked her Jack. Plain and simple, what do you have to explain?"

"Will you listen anyway?" He asked stroking my hair 

"Fine. If you want to waste your breath."

"She has a problem"

"ohh I bet she did-"

"No. Listen. shut your mouth a while and listen to what I'm saying." he snapped "She has a problem, a medical problem, inoperable, incurable, she'll be dead within the month if not sooner" he explained quietly as he gently pets my hair "She was an innocent"

"was she? I bet she told you that." I said back almost in a whisper 

"Y/n. I swear to you, she told me, in confidence that she was an innocent, given the state of her condition she accepted her death and had began to make arrangements for the future,"

"And where do you come into all this?"

"I'm her doctor. I've been treating her. She asked me to... she said of all the things in this world that she will miss, she wanted to feel the touch of a man just once in her life." He whispered "So I did, Yes I fucked her. Should I have done it... I don't know. But do I regret it? No. would I do it again, I frankly don't know. I'm not sure I would If I'd have known I'd lose you because of it."

"Why you? She could have asked many, barely a man in Port Victoria that wouldn't want to fuck a virgin."

"Because I'm her doctor, and I was engaged. She trusted me. She didn't want to be used like some old whore she wanted to feel loved, and she knew she could trust me because I'm her doctor, and she wouldn't leave a man utterly in love with her behind, because she knew I loved you."

"Is that true?"

"Why would I lie to you now? you've already left me."

"why didn't you just tell me that?"

"Because I fucked another woman plain and simple... you didn't want to listen and it would only dig myself deeper if I did" 

"...it wasn't what you did Jack."

"No?"

"No. I just wish you'd have told me first."

"What?" he asked sitting up  a little 

"If you had come to me, and told me about her, about her illness, about what she had asked of you. I'd have allowed it." 

"No, you wouldn't-"

"I would. Because it is a kind thing to do Jack, if I was dying I'd have asked you too. I wish you had come and asked me, I'd have allowed it, but instead, I had to find out afterwards, from Sneed of all people not even you, that you broke my trust."

"I know, I was just worried you'd be angry if I told you." 

"I was more angry you didn't"

"That's fair." He nods "I fucked up, and I know that. it doesn't matter now... She's dead anyway."

"What?"

"Passed away this morning." 

"I'm sorry Jack-"

"It's fine. she doesn't have to suffer anymore. I'm happy, I could make her final days somewhat enjoyable"

"You're kind, and sweet when you want to be" 

"I am sorry. Believe me."

"Well... it doesn't matter now does it."

"I guess not." he sighed "She didn't even call me Jack."

"No?"

"No. Just Doctor Dawkins" He chuckled 

"Did you use her name?"

"I did. I wanted to make her feel loved... But I thought of you." He whispered kissing my forehead 

"You did?"

"I did. I imagined her body as yours, her voice as yours," He said "You know you're the only girl who can satisfy me. so I thought of you"

"... I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse." I sighed 

"Y/n..."

"Yes, Jack?"

"Is there, any possibility, no matter how slim? That, you and I may... rekindle even a portion of what we had before?" 

"I doubt it, Jack." I said moving to see his face "I will always love you, but I can't forgive you." 

"Could I do anything for you to forgive me?"

"No. Once trust is broken... like a delicate vase chattered, the pieces may be placed back, but you will always see the crack." I explained "Who's to say... another girl, in a similar state, asks the same of you, I cannot trust that you wouldn't do it again"

"... I understand." he nods "And I am sorry. I will always love you, you know that. No matter what you do, or say, my heart will always be yours." 

"And Mine yours." I smiled giving him a sweet kiss "I should go." I said climbing out the bed and starting to get dressed again 

"I don't know what I'm gonna do without you," he said as he watched me dress 

"I'm sure you shall find ladies to spend of the evening." 

"It's not the evening that worries me, it's the mornings, and the middays, and the afternoons, and the middle of the nights, a fuck is a fuck, but when you cum it's over, with you... every moment and all of it felt like heaven" 

"Well, such are the consequences of your actions." I sighed "Now? my book."

He rolled his eyes sitting up slipping his trousers on and pulling my book from under his mattress 

"Thank you" I snapped taking it back "A reason you kept it?"

"...reminds me of you." 

"You always complained you couldn't read it. my stupid spider scrawl handwriting"

"I can't. but I know what it says... when I read it, chasing the words around the page I- I heard your voice reading it to me" 

for a moment I felt teary "Keep it." I said handing back the book 

"No." he said pushing it back into my hand and kissing my lips in a soft and gentle way "Please don't labour me with memories of you." 

"Alright," I nodded "Goodbye Jack."

"Goodbye Y/n" He nods fighting back his tears 

I took my book and I left heading home. 

I sat in bed fresh as the morning sun, unable to bring myself to rise just yet, I turned and saw my book on my bedside table and I thought of him, for a moment all our nights of enthroned passion returned, I thought of our last night together over a month ago now of angst and anger, I thought of how he held me that night, how he kissed me still with all the love that he had always done so, 

I thought of the most wonderful moments, Of how his head would settle in my lap after the day's work, I would twist and knot my fingers in his golden locks, he would press a kiss to my thighs, and I would read to him, all that I had written, and he would offer me suggestions of words that suited better, listing synonyms for me to replace the overused words. 

I forced such thoughts away and sat myself up checking the day on my calendar I knew what to expect today pulling back my covers but- they were as white as sheep. This couldn't be? I was late already. I tried not to allow panic to set in given my typical irregularities.

"Miss I have brought your you porridge with honey" The maid smiled as she came through with my breakfast but the simple smell was enough

"Out." I demanded throwing my head off my bed to upturn my stomach into the bucket I had left there, and she scurried away. "No... No this can't be possible." I forced myself up and over to my mirror pulling back my nightie to expose my stomach it didn't look any different or maybe it did... I don't know. and the memory of that night flooded into my mind, of him finishing burying himself inside me as I rode him, "No... no no no.... I'm gonna kill him..." I whined grabbing my dress and hurrying as fast as my feet could to the hospital rushing up to his room without a word. But I froze up as I saw his door- 

to think of all that had happened, How I stormed out, I'd returned once and clearly that was an awful mistake I- didn't exactly feel thrilled I was returning yet again. but I knocked and soon enough he pulled it open.

"Oh, its you. What can I do for you?" He asked fixing his waistcoat

"I need you." I told him rushing into his room

"Uhh okay" He nods shutting his door with a wicked smile "So... Shall I repeat our last night my darling?"

"No." I snapped "I need your... medical, Intervention"

"my medical intervention?"

"Yes."

"You realize patients have to wait in the waiting room you know, you can't just come up to a doctor's bedroom to get seen faster, even if it is you."

"Jack. Please." I told him fear in my voice tears in my eyes and he melted his own panic set in 

"What is it?"

"I am... so very scared Jack."

"Alright just sit down, tell me what's wrong," he said helping me to sit on his bed 

"My monthly time is late."

"Alright, well such thing can happen you have been stressed these few weeks" He explained nervously pacing around his room as I spoke 

"Over a month."

"Perhaps simple change in your cycle" 

"I have been vomiting." 

"A bad fish may have simply turned your stomach," he said his fear growing as he too was coming to the conclusion I had already suspected but he didn't want it to be true, he didn't want to believe me, 

"My waist grows... Inch by inch. Almost weekly. gaining speed steadily"

"Bloating. could simply-"

"Jack. I might be pregnant." 

"You might." He nods "It could be a million other-"

"I. Might be pregnant." I told him getting to my feet "By the grace of god I need to know." 

"I'd need to track your cycle completely, and I don't have that information."

"You had it as up to date as I did until I left and I haven't bleed since so-"

"Well, how do I know what you've been doing?" He glared So I slapped him and he adjusted his jaw a little "How am I to know who the father is?"

"You." I said and the colour drained from his skin "I have never been touched by another man as long as I have lived. If I am pregnant... It is yours. or it is gods." 

"It can't be mine. I always-"

"Not always, Our last evening together..."

"Fuck-" He gasped "I have thought of that night a hundred times, your right. I didn't"

"So, Doctor. What do we do?" 

"I need a rabbit." He sighed 

I had to return to the hospital, to Jack twice daily once in the morning, once at night and each day, for three days, and I had to drink a whole jug of water and well... expel it. and this was the final time. 

"There, Now will we know?" I asked 

"Yes. we should do" He said as he took it in a firm needle "shhh shhh there's a good girl" He cooed to the little rabbit on the table, I had since after all these days named her hoppy, and he injected her "Five minutes" he said 

"I do not understand how these things work" I sighed 

"You want me to explain?"

"Not really."

"Fair enough." He said turning to his tools a moment and grabbing a large knife 

"Jack- What are you doing!"

"Finding out" He began moving quickly to-

"No!" I yelped stopping him "Jack! that's barbaric." 

"I have been injecting her with your urine for the last three days, if her ovaries are enlarged and she has gone into heat then you are pregnant, if she hasn't you are not."

"Is there no way to check without killing her?"

"No. now do you want to know or not?" 

"There must be a simpler way."

"Yes, there is. we wait nine months and see if a baby pops out of you."

"You know we can't do that. but that doesn't mean I allow you to butcher an innocent animal"

We both stopped a moment as hoppy moved a little and began humping the blanket she sat on aggressively 

"I'd say she's in heat"

"I need to check. for sure."

"Fine" I sighed 

"I'll be quick, painless" he said making quick work of killing the poor thing before then cutting it open to examine her 

"And?"

".... her ovaries are Enlarged. Extremely so. She is in heat." He said dropping his knife on the table 

"So..."

"You're pregnant." 

"... I see." I nodded my hands settling on my stomach in absolute fear but Jack took my face in his hand and sweetly kissed me sending blood across my skin, till he pulled back stroking his nose on mine as he always used to

"This is the happiest news you could have given me."

"Happy? Jack, I am pregnant out of wedlock. My father will banish me, society will crucify me, and our child will suffer as a bastard all of its life." I explained, "What am I to do?" 

"I know exactly what you are to do. Take back my ring."

"What?"

"Take back my ring, return our lives to how they were, before my mistake, marry me by the end of the week and we, can raise our child together. As husband and wife," 

"We cannot-"

"Why not?"

"I already told my father of our cancelled engagement"

"Then tell him it was nothing but a lovers tiff. and that all is as it was." He said "I still love you, I still want us to be together, I still want to marry you. and I want us to raise our child together. Please. You cannot expect me to let you go again, I made that mistake once letting you walk away from me, I am not foolish enough to allow it again, especially not while my child grows in your womb" 

"You can not simply expect me to trust you again Jack."

"I'm not. I'm asking you to let me earn it back." He said, "Please Y/n." 

"Yes" I gasped

"You-"

"Yes Jack."

"Y/n... my darling" He cooed pulling me back to his lips. 

[valtsv]

This isn't a gotcha, so please don't take it as such, but would yuou be willing to explain what it is about VAL that makes her such a favourite of yours? I can't stand her myself, she comes across to me as a bully given god-like power that she abuses for her own amusement, and I've seen you acknowledge as much, but we draw completely different conclusions from that. I just want to understand your perspective.

i've been anticipating a question like this for a while now, so i'm more than happy to answer for you!

you're right, VAL is in some ways a "bully given godlike power" as you put it, and there's no avoiding that (nor do i want to). and yeah, i do like her in part because of that, because i have a fondness for horrible fictional characters and in particular "bad victim" archetypes, of which VAL certainly is one. but i think what makes her compelling to me, rather than repulsive, is that she is fundamentally a cautionary tale and a tragedy. in-universe, she's the scapegoat. the example. the "make the right choices or this could be you". she's inescapably, heartbreakingly human in her awfulness, and that makes her terrifying, but it also makes her deeply sad (at least to me).

i also strongly believe in rehabilitative/restorative justice, so for me, wanting better for VAL is about my real-world principles to a degree. i can't and won't argue that VAL doesn't function as an uncomfortable allusion to a lot of atrocious crimes against humanity (by humanity) within the narative, and that anyone who finds her upsetting or even hateful for these reasons is absolutely justified in doing so. however, she's still a fantasy entity at the end of the day. she's not a 1:1 stand-in for real-world abuses any more than, say, a vampire or werewolf, which plenty of people are more than happy to explore the nuances of. and there's also the question of what punitive measures would even achieve in her case, beyond personal satisfaction for the one administering or spectating them (which is not to say that wanting to punch VAL makes you as bad as she is, just that her arc is, among other things, about how cycles of abuse and violence perpetuate). the worst that could possibly happen to her has already happened. she's been tortured. she's been taken advantage of for her mistaken belief that working for and with the system has the opportunity to benefit her, and died for it. there's nothing to be "learned" from her punishment that hasn't already been shown to us. that she hasn't already internalised. if she were ever to develop a stable conscience, that would be punishment enough in my opinion.

despite being a victim of people not entirely unlike VAL, i personally am not her victim, so treating her with sympathy and kindness whilst acknowledging the elephant in the room that is her many (fictional) war crimes is not something that requires any cognitive dissonance on my behalf. i would cautiously argue that the narrative agrees with me somewhat in this regard - the few times VAL is treated to a genuine act of kindness with no ulterior motives, it shatters her composure and outward conviction that what she's doing is necessary for her personal satisfaction, and even prompts her to reconsider on occasion (sparing the woodsman comes to mind). i'm not saying anyone needs to hug her and tell her she's valid, but if all it takes is some genuine good intent to get her to engage in introspection, i'm willing to be the person to offer it.

[augusgus]

touch yourself (m.)

Being Sukuna's vessel isn't easy. Even less so if he's decided to take advantage of it - to his great pleasure and your humiliation.

pairing: ryomen sukuna x vessel fem!reader

tags: forced masturbation(?), a bit of degradation, corruption kink, sadistic sukuna (are we surprised), dacryphilia, oral sex, ruined orgasm, a tiny bit of spit play

You could hear his snicker even before you felt your cheek moving from Sukuna's sneer.

"What a lewd woman..." His voice was dripping with self-satisfaction, the kind that made you want to strangle him. Him and his damned influence over you.

Another wave of heat rushed through your body, this one stronger than the ones before, and a strangled whimper escaped your lips. Damn it, damn it, damn him. You were burning up and at this point it took everything in you to keep it together.

A knowing chuckle. "Why so shy?" There was a dark, cajoling tint to his whisper that sent involuntary shivers down your spine. "Or, perhaps, are you a filthy liar? Is that how it is? My, how scandalous!"

"T-that's rich coming from you, curse."

You were breathing heavily, fingers gripping your pillow with white knuckles. It hadn't been long since you had woken up from your body going into overdrive but it was already become too much to handle. Slowly, tantalisingly. It was mortifying to say the least, slowly losing control over yourself like that.

And Sukuna, being the source of your problem, was eating it right up.

You could feel the mouth on your cheek stretch impossibly to an even wider grin. "I would never deny myself pleasure, woman. I always take what I desire."

"Explains w-why you're such an ass," you quipped back.

You knew your response was weak. But you couldn't think clearly anymore - every drag of fabric against your skin, every shift of your fingers against the pillow was sending tingles up your neck and lighting up sparks in your brain.

His voice seemed closer to your ear now as he drawled, so sardonically, so humiliatingly smug, "you know, your perverted cunt is much more honest than you, woman. It's been dripping the whole time."

Wincing, you closed your eyes in shame as if that would make everything disappear. It wasn't for the first time that you wished to have never become a vessel for this demon, to have never given Sukuna the opportunity to touch the most vulnerable parts of your innermost and pick you apart by the seams with sadistic enjoyment. He was stripping you from your decency, dragging away layer by layer until he had you naked and cornered and cowering exactly the way he wanted you to.

You felt watched when your fingers slowly, almost involuntarily, travelled down your body - and in a sense you were indeed. Gleeful eyes, all over, drinking in this horrible humiliation that not even your lust-induced haze could block out... And that small part in yourself that actually took pleasure from this exploitation of your weakness - you started to hate that you have been made aware of its existence.

A gasp left your lips when your nails caught on one of your nipples, the slight touch alone enough to have a gush of wetness pooling between your legs. Sukuna's mouth laughed and the sheer proximity of the harsh sound made your head spin.

"Hah! Are you crying, woman?" He taunted. "D'you think that I'd take pity on you?"

"I'm n-not..." You hadn't noticed it before but tears had started to gather in your eyes. The realisation only made them well up more, salty liquid running down your cheek and landing on his tongue.

He laughed louder, a hint of madness vibrating in his sadistic excitement. "Yes, yes, this is it!! Lose yourself! Get even more desperate... You're a whore, behave like one!" You could feel his arousal brimming under your skin, dark and sticky, mixing with your own lust.

"You're such...an...asshole..." The insult lacked the usual spite. Forming words felt much too difficult all of a sudden.

If he had any regard for anyone other than himself, he would have stopped here, left you intact. He still would have had you hanging by the last threads of your pride, of your morals, but you'd be able to shrug it off as a moment of weakness. A lapse in judgment.

But Sukuna had never cared for the thing called restraint.

"Touch yourself, woman." He was playing with you, cruel in how his voice made it sound like an inevitable order. "Show me just how shameful you are, getting off on fingering your perverted cunt with a cursed spirit possessing your body. Show off how much you crave this!"

The moment the pads of your fingers pressed into the covered folds of your pussy, you couldn't breathe. The pleasure was all-consuming and the bit of relief that came with it made you momentarily forget about the guilt. "S'good..." the whine forced itself between your lips but you didn't have it in you anymore to care.

It felt so good... and yet the ache only seemed to grow stronger.

"Still not enough, huh." You could hear the grin, feel the movement right next to your ear, "what a slut."

And then white flashed before your eyes when something strong pushed against your entrance - Sukuna's mouth having opened on your palm instead, hot tongue licking a fat stripe up to your clit.

"Ah-hhhah...?!" there was no softness to his ministrations, no rhythm to make it easier for you to adjust. Whatever he decided to give to you, you had to take it. It was almost too much, balancing on the fine line between overwhelming and mind-numbing.

You had no control over the sounds you made anymore, over your muscles, and without thinking you pushed harder against your own hand, pressing the palm flat against your sticky folds to have better access to him. To have him closer, reach deeper.

Little sounds of "ah. Ah. Ah" filled the room and combined with the squelches from your dripping juices and his saliva. Sukuna laughed against your clothed core before biting along your outer lips, then slowly sliding his teeth over your clit - just gentle enough that the sensation had you squeezing your thighs even harder around your hand and trapping it effectively. With a scoff he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing circles into it with the tip of his tongue until you couldn't stop shaking.

Your orgasm wasn't far, the denial you've put yourself through having put your body in an even more vulnerable state. The coil was steadily tightening, growing in intensity until you could almost taste it on your tongue. A little more, just a little-

All contact vanished. Nothing, apart from your wet panties clinging to your folds. Gone was the pressure, lingering warmth all that was left. And still, in the last moment the slight shift of fabric made you tip over the edge.

You came but it didn't feel like an orgasm.

New tears welled up in your eyes as you realised, this was so unfair. So unfair. You could still feel the awaited pleasure brimming right underneath your skin, could feel it retracting without having given you any of the relief.

"Did ya really think you deserve to cum?" He was mocking you - his mouth back on your cheek letting a trail of spit run down his tongue and in between your own opened lips. It tasted like yourself.

Almost as if a dam had broken, you cried even more - desperation to cum, really cum, taking a hold of you. "Fuck you, fuck you, fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou..." your pussy was pulsating around nothing, your body having been tricked into an empty orgasm, but the lust was still right there. Heat pooling in where you thought to be your womb. You needed it, needed him. So bad.

"Come on, you can do better than that," Sukuna drawled. "Beg. Say it, say my name."

"Scream who it is you're letting yourself be fucked by."

[tootiecakes234]

The Bet (Part 3)

Warnings: smut, MDNI

Katsuki’s POV

Day 2:

When I fell asleep last night she was on one side of the bed and I was on the other. I did that on purpose cuz it sucks waking up with my dick hard and pressed against her. Having to peel myself away with no satisfaction.

So imagine my surprise when I wake up in the exact position I was trying to avoid. I think i might’ve been rutting against her before I woke cuz I’m leaking precum and tucked between her thighs. Fuck me.

I have patrol early this morning, so I force myself to get up take a very long, very cold shower. This bet was kicking my ass. The fact that I couldn’t fuck her only made me want to do it more.

I was so thankful for work today because at least it gave me a distraction.

I got dressed, made myself a quick breakfast and headed out.

I was on patrol with one of my sidekicks this morning. She was really capable and I trusted her so it was more so that I was supervising and teaching instead of taking lead. It was pretty slow for a Sunday actually.

Everything was going so smoothly until I suddenly get a text on my personal phone. I knew it was from Y/N before I even pulled it out because she had taken my phone and given herself her own special ringtone.

I open the message and almost drop and shatter my goddamn phone.

“Mr. Bakugo, are you ok??”, my side kick was looking at me like I was crazy. I could feel the flush from my toes up to the top of my damn head.

“ ‘m fine. Stay sharp and holler if you need me. I gotta make a call”, I said starting to walk away.

I heard her call out a “yessir”

The phone rang one time before she answered my call.

“Hey Katsuki. What’s up?”, she had the nerve to ask that like she didn’t know why I was calling her!

“Y/N…. You’ve lost your goddamn mind. I’m at work! Saving lives! And you’re sending me nudes!!”, I was scream yelling because there were people walking by.

“Are you saying you don’t like them? I got all dolled up for you and it took a lot of work to get an angle where you could see…. Everything.”, her voice had dropped down to this sultry tone.

My cock was starting to harden. She’s stepped up her game.

“Ha you’re good. You caught me off guard with this. And yea I like the picture… any angle that shows that pretty pussy of mine is a good angle.”

“Mmmm I’m glad you like it. I wanted to brighten up your day.”

“You think you’re so smart huh? You’re playing with fire sweet girl. You’re gonna end up with a burn mark on your ass”, my voice had dropped a few octaves.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time Kats.”

“Not a fucking threat princess, it’s a promise… coming. Hey I’ve gotta go. Don’t forget about that reservation tonight. Love ya.” Then I cut the line. I had to get back to work.

I can’t let her win. I won’t let her distract me any further. I can’t believe she had the nerve to call me the devil. She was in for it whenever I got home.

The rest of my day at work flew by. I was there later than I expected because I was catching up on paperwork, so I was rushing to get home in time to change before our reservations.

I got home and Y/N wasn’t in the front room. I just know this woman isn’t still getting ready. I was already rushing and she’s had all day to be prepared for this. I pushed open the door to our room and before me was picture out of a fucking wet dream.

If I died and this was the last thing I saw, I’d die happy. It took her calling my name rather loudly maybe more than once before I snapped out of it.

“What?? What did you say?”

“I said you’ve gotta hurry and change or we are going to be late”, she said and she was sporting the cockiest smirk I’ve ever seen on her face.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”, I asked her just to clarify.

This woman had on a red dress, my favorite color. Her boobs were perched high in her chest and that dress looked like it was made just for her. She also had on these strappy, black heels that wrapped up her calves. Her hair was pinned up and she had on this red lipstick that matched that dress perfectly.

Fuck me. I think she was trying to kill me.

“This old thing…. I figured I’d finally pull it out of the closet.”

“Y/N I know all your clothes. This dress is new.”

“Whoops, you’ve caught me in a lie…I hung out with Mina today and we stumbled across this. I thought you might like it”, the shit eating grin on her face was the only thing keeping me from sinking to my knees right then and there. I was not going to give her the satisfaction of caving now.

“Yea it looks nice enough”, I huffed at her, “I’m gonna hurry up and get ready so we can leave.”

I walked past her and smelled her. She was also wearing my favorite sent of hers. She pulled out all the big guns. She thinks tonight going to be the night she gets me.

Well she’s got another thing coming.

But first… another cold shower. I’m only human.

While I was getting ready, I remembered that she loves seeing me in a button up and apparently white brings out my eyes or some shit. So I put on a white button up, black jeans and a pair of black tennis shoes she’d bought me for my birthday. I threw on my gold chain and a couple rings on my fingers. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be the only one foaming at the mouth.

I walk out of the room and she’s sitting at the bar with her back to me.

“You ready to go?”

She turned around to look at me and she thought I didn’t see the way her eyes glossed a little and her breath hitched. She tried to hurry and cover it with a small smile on her lips. She hopped down out of her seat and grabbed her purse, which must go with her outfit because lord knows she doesn’t need it.

“Yup let’s hit it hot stuff”

“Wait”, I walked over to her and wrapped one of my arms around her waist and my other hand reached to tip her face up toward me. “Wanna kiss you, don’t wanna fuck up your makeup.”

“One kiss won’t ruin my makeup”, she said all soft and breathy.

“Mmmm it will the way I want to do it.”, I pulled away from her enough to grab her hand and bring her knuckles up to my lips. I kissed each individual knuckle before kissing her wrist and pressing a few more up the length of her forearm. I locked eyes with her once more, “ let’s go princess, we are running late.”

I interlocked our fingers and guided her out to the car. I opened her door and help her buckle up before walking to the other side and hopping in.

Payback time.

For some reason I don’t understand, y/n told me she thinks it’s so hot when I turn my whole body around when I back up. I have a back up camera but you bet your sweet ass tonight, I was turning around and flexing slightly while doing so.

On the drive there a slid my hand over her thigh, which I always did, but tonight I might’ve placed it a little higher than usual.

“Katsuki, can you cut it out?”, she said as she placed her hand over mine and stopped the slow circles I was drawing with my thumb.

“Cut what out baby,” I said glancing over at her.

“We both know what you’re doing.”, she was clenching her jaw as well as slightly squeezing her thighs. She glanced down at my hand like she was trying to send me a message.

Oblivious was the best way to go here, “is my hand bothering you? You’ve never complained about it before.”

“Yea probably cuz it wasn’t resting 2 cm away from my vagina.”

“Haha, yea I am kinda close aren’t I? I can feel the heat coming off of it and I’m sure if I slid those 2 cm I could feel how wet you are too.” Right after I finish saying it I slid my hand up and let me pinky rub lightly over her panties and look there. Drenched. She winced like she was in pain.

“Kat!” She said my voice on a moan. Fuck, she was so sensitive.

“Sorry, my hand slipped cuz of that pothole”, I whispered.

“There was no freaking pothole. You’re such an ass”, she tried to grab my hand and take it off her thigh, but this only made me dig a little deeper and press a little harder up against her.

By this point we were pulling up to the restaurant. Lucky her.

When we got out of the car, her panties were soaked and I had to rearrange myself to even be able to walk inside this place.

By this point we were both miserable and unsatisfied. This bet is such bullshit. Whose bright idea was it to do this?

We were at one of our favorite restaurants. When I made the reservation I made it for a booth in the back because this place tended to be really crowded and I didn’t want to be spotted.

We got seated and the conversation started to flow.

“Mina said that she thinks Sero has a secret girlfriend. Has he said anything to you about it?”

“No and even if he did why would I tell you. It’d be a secret for a reason. The two of you are the biggest goss-” I almost fucking choked on my own spit.

“Are you ok Kat? What’s wrong?”, she looked at me like she was genuinely concerned for my well being and not like she just almost caused my death.

She had taken off one of her shoes and her foot was now pressed up against my inner thigh. Before I have time to respond, our waiter is back at our table taking our orders.

The entire time he’s there, she’s gently stroking her foot up and down and at what point it brushes up against my cock and I fumble over my words.

The waiter just laughs it off like I’m just some idiot having a stroke and when I look over at y/n she has the nerve to be laughing too.

When he finally leaves she takes her foot back and continues on like nothing happened.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Brb.” She said as she started getting up.

I just nodded my head at her. I needed time to get my shit together. This is not going well. I have to get a handle on this situation and fast, but she came back to fast. I didn’t have time to prepare anything.

The rest of dinner went off without any problems though. Maybe she was struggling just as bad as me. Maybe we were going to call it for tonight.

Wishful thinking.

While we are outside, waiting for the valet to pull the car up, y/n comes up real close to me slides something into my pants pocket. When she pulls back there’s a smirk on her lips.

“What the fuck is that?” And all she does is shrug at me.

When I reach down and start pulling it out, I realize very quickly that it’s her panties. Her damp panties.

“ Y/n when did you take these off?”, my voice came out like I was growling. My self restraint is hanging on by a thread.

“When I went to the bathroom earlier.” She then came up to me wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me.

My hands automatically grab at her ass because that’s what they’ve been wanting to do all night.

She could be a siren. I could actually know for a fact that she is a siren and at this point I’d happily walk my dumbass into the ocean and let her drown me.

I feel like I’m in a trance and the only thing that breaks it is the valet driver clearing his throat to get our attention.

The drive home is quiet. I don’t attempt to tease her any further because if I put my hands on her again I know I won’t stop. I’ve gotta try and get home. Lock myself in my office. That’s my game plan.

Tell her I have some work to do and just stay in there until she’s asleep because I’m at my breaking point.

Initially the plans going great. We get in the house, I hurry up and change, and then head to my office.

Done. Easy. I survived another day and tomorrow she’ll have work so it can’t possibly be this bad.

That is until I hear a little knock on my office door.

“Come in.”

“Hey, how long are you going to be working?”, she asked.

She’d changed too, into an oversized tshirt and she had her little fuzzy slippers on. Fucking adorable.

“‘M not sure. I’ve got a few things I need to get done tonight. Why are you still up?”

She walks over to me looks at me expectantly. I push my chair back from my desk enough for her to slide into my lap.

“Kats”

“Hmm?”

“Are you miserable too? This bet is stupid and I’ve been hot and bothered all day.”, she was mumbling against the side of my head.

“You went out of your way today to make sure I was miserable you heathen. My dick has been at least half hard since I woke and blue balls doesn’t even begin to describe the shit I’m going through.”

She has the nerve to chuckle at that but it wasn’t a damn joke.

“Is that why you’re in here pretending to work? Cuz you don’t wanna come to bed with me?”

“Y/n I-“ her lips cut me off. She moved so fast. She went from sitting on one leg to straddling me. I could feel her tits pressed up against and with the way her pussy was radiating heat against my sweats, I could tell she had no panties on.

She was grinding down against me and her tongue was in my mouth.

The next thing I know one of my hands has slipped past her shirt in the back and is rubbing her wetness around. And do I fucking mean wet. I’m sure there’s a big ass spot on the front of my pants. The other hand is tweaking her nipples. She’s a whimpering mess now and I’m panting like I just finished running a marathon.

“K-kit Kat…we have to stop”

“Say it… say it and let me fuck you. You know you want it.”, I started pressing sloppy kisses all up and down her neck and I was running slow circles around her clit, “say it.”

She’s right there, on the brink. I can tell it’s on the tip of her tongue and right when I think she’s going to actually do it, shes jumping off my lap like I’m on fire.

“What? Where the hell are you going?”, I was so sure this was it. I could taste the victory on my tongue.

“I-I’m g-going to bed.” She was trying to get her breathing under control just like I was.

She started making her way out of this office. She was really going to leave like this.

What the actual fuck?

“Please” I didnt comprehend until after I said it that I had already sunk to my knees. The word flew out of my mouth as soon as I saw her hand on the door handle.

I’d fucking lost.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4

*my first trying to write in someone else’s pov… so don’t be mean.

Also I got carried away and I know this is super duper long.

There will be a part 4 with the smut. It will be be back to readers POV.

Enjoy.

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Fic Masterlist // SJM Omegaverse Masterlist // Dark Feysand Masterlist

@acotar-omegaverse-week Day 7: Free Day

Summary: If there was one thing Rhys was well aware of, it was that his life expectancy as a kingpin was a short one. Unless he wanted his uncle seizing power the moment he bled out, he was in need of an heir. An Alpha heir at that.

The only way he could guarantee such a thing was by breeding an omega, a designation nearly extinct in the world they lived in. Regardless, he would acquire one—no matter how unconventional his means may be.

OR;

The Mafia Omega Auction Fic

CW: Dark!Rhys, mafia AU, very much in the “omegas are property” type of omegaverse here. Non-con in future chapters.

Chapter I

Rhysand

She was a hell cat.

Despite the impression he’d been given upon making his bid, Rhys was delighted to see it.

He hadn’t quite expected to see that fire in her after she’d look so despondent on the stage, eyes on the ground, so dissociated from the world around her that he was willing to bet she was clueless as to how high her bid had run.

It was a drop in the bucket for Rhys, true, but a pretty penny all the same.

And she was worth every bit of it.

He had only attended tonight because he’d caught word of an omega being presented at the auction. Considering her designation had all but died out, it had been a packed house this evening, alphas from all over attending an event they’d have no interest in if there were only the usual betas on that stage.

And they’d tried their hardest to win her, showing their deep pockets with every volley to raise the price. Rhys’ pockets had been deeper. And now she was his. Wild or demure, he was glad for it.“Hello, Feyre darling.”

“Leave me alone. I want nothing to do with you.”

The auctioneer sneered behind her. “Show some respect when you speak to your alpha, girl.” She flinched when the man pushed her to her knees, but didn’t make a sound—wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Good girl.

Rhys didn’t let that bit of praise roll off his tongue, instead bringing his focus back to the beta holding her. A strong one, but a beta all the same. “The payment has been made. I suggest you get your hands off of my property before I decide to break them myself.”

“O-of course, Mr. Sterling,” he stuttered, scrambling away from the girl.

Feyre’s jaw ticked, but she was smart enough to keep quiet about what he’d deemed her. At least in present company. Sighing, Rhys crouched down in front of her, running one finger under the single strap of the gauzy dress she wore. It resembled tissue paper more than true fabric and something revolted in him at the thought the male standing before them had handled her in this state.

He ground his teeth, stripping his jacket and draping it over her too-bony shoulders. Where had they found the girl, for her to be all skin and bones? He’d remedy that. Feed her, then train her to his liking. A few months under a firm hand would do her good. “Know that if I find a single mark on her tonight, the price will come out of your skin.”

“I understand, sir. That won’t be necessary.”

Done with all of it, Rhys helped his prize to her feet before hooking an arm behind her knees and lifting her in a bridal hold. “Put me down!” she shrieked. “I’m a grown woman! I can walk on my own two feet!”

“Outdoors without shoes? I think not, darling girl. Unless that extremely generous auctioneer offered you a pair in your time here that I don’t know about?” She huffed, dead weight in his arms. He frowned. And still light as a feather. “I thought not.”

His driver was stepping out of the car the moment Rhys reached the bottom of the drive, trying his hardest not to laugh as his new pet did her best to turn away from his neck. He didn’t imagine she was content, being drawn to the scent of an alpha who had purchased her. He didn’t intend on giving her the space to avoid that instinct either. Whether they had to do things the easy way or the hard way, Feyre would learn to respect and trust him as her alpha.

~~~~~

Feyre

He was in her head. She didn’t know how, but he had to be, smirking every time she even thought to see if the door was truly child-locked, as he claimed. Not that she’d be fast enough to escape, regardless. “Feyre darling.” She frowned at the bottle of water he cracked open. “Drink something. I don’t imagine you’ve had much to eat or drink today. I don’t have any food with me, but dinner will be prepared by the time we board.”

“Board?”

“I spend most of my time overseas, Feyre. Anything in the States is a… special pursuit.”

“Like an omega?” She fisted her hands in her lap, trying to ignore the air conditioning that chilled her bare legs. “You’re as greedy as any man I’ve met here.”

He hummed, a dismissal if she’d ever heard one. “Here,” Rhys continued as the car slowed. Turning to look out the window, she could make out the silhouette of a jet plane against the pitch black night.

“Get out on this side, darling.”

Not like she had a choice, given her own door was meant to keep her locked in. His lips quirked up when she stayed in place. “I think we’ve established it’s no hardship for me to drag you out, pet, but you should know that if that’s necessary you’ll be spending part of the evening over my knee.”

Feyre blanched, pulling the jacket close around her to ward off the early autumn chill. Her full body shutter was only partly to do with the cold when his scent once again wafted up to her nose. Lifting her in his arms to spare her feet from the asphalt once again, he brought his mouth down to her ear. “Come on, little one. We’ll get you settled with a blanket in a moment.”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Kindness always had a price. Especially from people like him—too damn rich to know a hardship, always searching for the next leg up.

He chuckled setting her down in one of the oversized plane seats, too comfortable for her to be anywhere near. “In that case, I’d like my jacket back.”

She shook off the pang of sadness that struck her as she let the fabric fall from her shoulders. Stupid, to be attached to something belonging to a man she hated. But it had soothed something in her all the same. Rhys took it back without a word, draping it over the chair adjacent to hers and walking towards the back of the plane.

Say something, she thought. Make me rage until it’s all I feel.

But curled up in that chair in nothing but scraps of silk all Feyre wanted to do was cry.

~~~~~

Rhysand

Feyre was asleep by the time he returned from the cockpit. He couldn’t say he was surprised. She had likely gone from a rough night to an early morning. And an auction was its own sort of hellscape when you were seen as nothing more than an object to pass off. That’s not to say he felt guilty for verbally claiming her as his property. It was their new reality. The sooner she accepted it, the sooner she would find contentment. Rhys doubted his little omega would follow his every command, but he also had several favored methods of putting a brat in her place.

She would be a good pet, or he would make her one.

Sighing when he saw her shiver, Rhys grabbed a blanket from the next room, draping it over her slender shoulders and pulling the end down to cover her bare feet.

Remaining asleep, she curled up tighter. “Oh, my pet. Whatever hurt you’ve known, you’ll be better off now. Just let me show you.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @littlest-w01f // @whatishowedyouinthedark // @ninthcircleofprythian // @sajirah // @acourtofladydeath // @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer // @toporecall //@popjunkie42-blog

[assistant-of-drama]

Assistant Noah's World Tour!

Hello, my name is Noah.

And around 2 years ago, I had made the biggest mistake of my life.

I got into a show called Total Drama and now I can't escape this overrated series or its crazy host.

How did this happen to me?

Well, I'm going to tell you...

When I first entered the show, I thought that I was gonna stay at a fancy resort or something like that, while trying to win the 100,00 dollars.

But instead that hotel turned out to be a crappy, ancient campsite. They only have one outhouse and there's a camera inside of it. The food is disgusting and served by a violent psychopath of a Chef. The host is basically insane and probably gonna get crazier. With the cherry on top, being that our first challenge was to jump off of a giant cliff.

Yeah, the money just wasn't worth it.

I decided to trick my team into voting me off.

So, when the dodgeball challenge arrived, I saw it as the perfect opportunity since I hated sports anyway. I simply refused to help and gave my team the occasional rude comment here and there, to irritate them even more. It was almost too easy.

I smiled and chuckled to myself as I left the dodgeball arena, forgetting about the cameras recording my satisfaction.

When I wasn't given a marshmallow, I had to resist the urge to smile, while acting angry and disappointed. I even subtly insulted their intelligence one final time as I left, getting pelted with marshmallows in the process. It was totally worth it.

I couldn't fight the smug smile anymore as I reached the boat, nor the sigh of relief as the boat left the stupid island.

If only I knew that being unable to control my joy would've sealed my fate.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that there was a resort after all; a resort of the losers.

How ironic, but I wasn't gonna complain.

However, a few days later, Chris and Chef learned that I got voted off on purpose. They were furious. They called me back to the island, explaining that as a punishment, I would have to come back to the island as Chris' assistant for the rest of the show. My jaw dropped in disbelief. Apparently, I missed the fine print in my contract; if anyone leaves on purpose, then they're forced to work for Chris.

As I reluctantly went on the boat back to the island, I couldn't help but feel a mixture of anger, disappointment, and a bit of fear. I didn't know what Chris had planned for me, but I knew it couldn't be anything good. When I arrived at the camp, I immediately put on a disguise, so the others wouldn't recognize me.

I was exhausted. Chris had been working me like a dog since my return to the island. He had me doing all sorts of tasks. I'd never been so tired in my life. Every time I thought I'd finally catch a break, he'd find something else for me to do. It was relentless.

But at least I get paid more than the other interns.

Then later to my surprise, Chris began to ask me for new ideas for the challenges. I was confused at first, but then he explained that he was impressed with how I managed to trick my team into wanting me off the island. He saw it as a sign of my true potential. I couldn't believe it. Chris, the insane host, was actually praising me?

I decided to take advantage of the situation and give him my best ideas. To my surprise, he actually liked most of them. Over time, my role in the show became bigger. We would brainstorm ideas for challenges together, and I would help him execute them. It was a weird kind of partnership, but it worked for us.

As the days went by, I learned to accept my new life on the island. Sure, it was still a competition, and there was always the chance that someone might figure out my true identity, but for now, I was content. I even started to enjoy the challenges again, if only because they were more interesting with my unique perspective. The gross eating challenge was one of my favorites.

When the finale arrived, Chris, Chef, and I were thrown into the water by the contestants as a form of revenge. We didn't see it coming; one minute we were announcing the winner, and the next, we were soaked to the bone.

Then my wig came off, revealing myself to the others. They were angry at first, but after I explained everything, they decided to forgive me… except for Heather. We all had a laugh about it and even became friends.

I thought it was over.

But then Chris made everyone chase a case with a million dollars inside of it, while I simply stayed at the resort.

Then Chris revealed that he tricked everyone into doing a second season of Total Drama, I didn't care at first because I thought that I was gonna leave.

The apathy turned into horror, when Chris reveals that I'm still his assistant, according to my signed contract.

Life, why do you hate me so?

In Season 2, everyone became extra nice to me, hoping that their kindness would somehow get them special treatment in the future episodes.

Even Justin began flirting with me, and I couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. I mean, sure, he was gorgeous and all, but I'm immune to Justin's charms. He's just another generic pretty boy that everyone loves drooling over.

I was so relieved when he left.

While the others finally took the hint that I wasn't gonna give them anything and now leave me alone, thank god.

Now that Season 2 is over, Chris is currently preparing a third season which is gonna take place in a unstable plane traveling across the world and singing random musical numbers.

Chef was right, that is the worst idea ever.

At least I'm not expected to sing.

The making of Season 3 is how I met Alejandro. The perfect combo of beauty, brawn and brains. Basically Justin, but with upgrades. The man who could charm the pants off of most species. At least that's what Chris says. Because personally, I think that guy is as overrated as the show I'm forced to work on.

That doesn't stop the Prince Charming Wannabe from flirting with me. In fact, it only seems to encourage him. He's constantly circling around me, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. It's amusing, in a pathetic sort of way. I mean, really, how can someone be so convinced that they can win someone over with a few well-placed compliments and a big, fake smile? It's almost insulting.

Then there's Sierra. She's… interesting, to say the least. There's something about her that suggests she's not quite right in the head. When she was an interviewer, she followed the cast around like a lost puppy, constantly scribbling in her notebook and asking questions that no one seems to understand. She's also obsessed with Cody.

Her obsession with Total Drama is borderline creepy. She knows every contestant and knows personal things about us too. Even Chris himself. It's unnerving, actually. She even seems to know some things about me that I'm pretty sure I haven't told anyone.

They are the two weirdest people that I've ever met… and I'm about to be trapped on a plane with them. Great. Just great.

I'm not sure whether to feel sorry for myself or laugh at the absurdity of the situation. I mean, here I am, stuck as Chris Mcclean's assistant, while everyone else gets to compete for a chance at a million dollars. And now, we're all going to be singing and dancing our way around the world. It's enough to make anyone's head spin.

Pray for me.

(Inspired by total-drama-brainrot's anonymous questions!)

[carionto]

I like to think the humans ambassador hides black powder weapons around their office instead of Lazer guns or plasma, just walks about with 2 hidden flintlock pistols

You sir or madam or otherwise have given me the biggest grin with that idea, thank you.

(me from after having written it out) I did not know where this idea would take me, stream of consciousness writing will do that.

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

Every delegate of every integrated species aboard a Coalition governing station in their respective segment of the Galaxy receives full accommodations in the form of an isolated embassy structure.

One day, as per a Human custom, the main delegate - Ambassador Glenn York, invited several other delegates on a tour of his embassy. With some hesitation from a few due to their prey-like ancestry and associated cultural background, but ultimately won over by the Human's eager friendliness, they embarked on this little cultural exchange.

It was a little difficult to move about, as each embassy is adapted to suit the environmental preferences of the respective species, and Humans live on a high gravity and dense atmosphere world, so much so in fact, some of the less physically suitable delegates had to put on an exoskeleton, while many others required a breathing apparatus to thin out the poisonous air.

Once we were underway, Glenn showed us that the Humans were diligent in their work - acquiring information from and learning about all the various species within the Coalition, establishing communication lines with the respective counterparts in the disparately varied local government structures, and most importantly continually updating the translation modules.

In addition, we admired their art they had installed along the barren walls. Most, Glenn explained, was done by the delegates and their staff themselves during free time, and it ranged from tiny contraptions painstakingly assembled within a minuscule glass container (we did not realize they could hone their dexterity to such a precise degree!) to large murals covering an entire wall with the most vivid color and shape combinations one could imagine; from the very clear and obvious to impossibly abstract! Though the music they had to turn down - the vibrations of the thick atmosphere were beginning to overload the dampening systems and one of the delegates almost passed out.

Near the end of the tour, Glenn invited us into his office to show off what his "hobby" is:

"The boys and gals I work with are all talented people, but none of them appreciate the kind of craftsmanship I prefer. It's kind of a ancient art form, you see, high maintenance too, very delicate."

He pulls out a pair of ancient looking projectile weapons, at least judging by the shape, but none of us can quite grasp, aside from the trigger, how it operates. We are all silent as he pours some sort of fine grain from a small bag into the upturned tube then drops a small metal ball and proceeds to jam it further in with a cloth and stick.

"I handcrafted these myself. Sure, I could get a printer to do it and it'd be perfect, but perfection just ain't right when it comes to work of the soul, amirite? I find it therapeutic, to mold the shape, heat the iron, cast the shape, smooth the edges, straighten the barrel, carve the grip, roll the bullets, grind the powder... just..."

He lets out a long sigh of relief? satisfaction? euphoria? as he gazes with great affection at the pair of devices in his hands. We feel the urge to end the tour. Like. Right now. But Glenn insists on a demonstration. We hesitantly follow him to a largely empty room below where he sets up a couple of small wooden block on a pedestal. As he points one of the devices and is about to pull the trigger, he stops, looks back at us and says:

"Almost forgot, you'll want to take a few more steps back and turn your dampeners to max."

Heeding his advice, we do so, and after he appears satisfied with our... safety?... he returns his gaze to the wooden block and pulls the trigger.

[cacophony]

We awaken after a short while, the sturdier of our fellow delegates say the rest of us were out for just a few moments, but the ringing reverberation of the shockwave through the Human atmosphere still resonates throughout our bodies. Glenn, worry in his eyes, is apologizing profusely:

"Oh I am so sorry, I didn't think you'd still react so poorly. Is anyone hurt? I even put in less gunpowder than normal, but I guess that's still too potent. I--I'll file an official apology and compensate for any damages I may have caused to any of you. I will take full responsibility for this incident. Please do not think poorly of us as a whole due to the willfulness of one individual, it was never my intention to inflict any injury on anyone."

---Later---

After a thorough medical examination, it was determined that only a few delegates suffered a minor case of shock, which was alleviated rapidly at their respective medical stations. Ambassador Glenn York was reprimanded and sent back to Earth, a replacement will arrive shortly. The one permanent remnant of the incident is the wooden block that was struck by Glenn's pistol - now put on a small display in one of the inner rooms of the Human embassy. The bullet still embedded half-way and the splinters it shot out arranged in a chaotic manner, befitting an explosion, down in front.

[jazzythursday]

Omg what’s sun summoner Jesper!?! 😱

Hi! I’m so glad you asked!

Sun summoner Jesper is a wip I started on a whim a while back. It follows show canon for sab but with Jesper in Alina’s place and Wylan in Mal’s (but with a lot of mixing and matching, i.e., Wylan is a cartographer and Jesper is a soldier, etc.) what I have so far is mostly based on the first 15 minutes of s1e1. Kaz and Inej also make appearances as Jesper’s friends and fellow soldiers (though I have Kaz as more of a strategist and assistant to Per Haskell, who in this is the lieutenant)

I want to tackle at least one other au before I dive into this one (probably my Rapunzel au) because if never written a long plot-driven fic, but I do definitely want to return to it eventually. There’s a lot still up in the air story-wise—I don’t know how Nina and Matthias will play into it, who the Darkling is, or if I’m going to use other characters to swap roles with the crows. I do know that it will span, at the very least, the plot of season 1 and probably a lot of season 2… and also that Kuwei is going to be Zoya.

You didn’t ask for a snippet, but I can’t really help myself, so here’s a decent chunk that takes place towards the beginning of chapter 1:

“Bit quick on the draw there,” Kaz chastens, as Jesper finishes re-loading the barrel of his rifle and pointing it at the target once more. He fires off a quick shot, one that lands directly between the eyes of the target dummie’s head. He follows it up with a second hit to the same spot, just to prove a point. Jesper cocks his head to the side, raises an eyebrow to match Kaz’s own arch look.

“You were saying?”

Unimpressed as ever, Kaz returns to his tent. That he expects Jesper to follow is just a given, one that he doesn’t bother with the directive for. He sits at his desk—a makeshift bureau of used crates and an old door strapped to the top—he finishes counting off his share of their earnings and passes the rest to Jesper.

“Don’t get cocky,” he says, continuing their conversation from before, “and don’t”—he points a judgemental, solitary finger at Jesper—“get fancy. I don’t need the other soldiers getting jealous enough to want to take you down a peg or two because of flash. Someone will get the bright idea to tell Haskell.”

“Aw, you think they’re jealous?” Jesper bats his eyes and pretends to swoon. “Of little ol’ me? Re-ally? Who? Tell me. Tell-me-tell-me-tell-me—”

“Bolinger looked like he’d rather use you for target practice more than that dummy after today.”

“Aw Kaz, are you worried? I never knew you cared.”

Kaz looks at him. If looks could kill, Jesper thinks, knowing Kaz Brekker would have killed him a thousand times over by now.

“Not just Bolinger. Keeg looked about ready to stage a mutiny.”

“Keeg’s a sore loser, that’s nothing new. It isn’t my fault he bet on the poor shot.”

“Would you just stop for—Hello Inej.”

Jesper blinks. “What?”

“Kaz is right,” says Inej, standing right next to them, and Jesper jumps.

“Fucking Saints!” he pants, hand over his chest to feel his racing heartbeat. “Warn the guy with the gun, people!” He lifts up his rifle and shakes it a bit for effect. “Gun, weapon”—he gestures to the rifle, then points to himself—“me, Jesper. What is confusing here?”

Kaz rolls his eyes and Inej smiles fondly at them both.

“What news?” Kaz asks her, their standard greeting.

“Nothing you don’t already know. Bolliger is whinging about Jes thrashing him in the match.”

Jesper can just feel Kaz’s eyes on him. There goes another life. “What else?” he asks, instead of giving Kaz the satisfaction of looking back.

“That’s everything. Oh”—her eyes widen—“and they just brought in a new caravan. Cartographers, from what I’ve heard. They're combining them with our unit to go south.”

Jasper starts walking straight out of the tent. He slings his rifle over his shoulder, tucking the prize winnings away, deep into his pocket. He doesn’t give his friends an explanation—he doesn’t have time to—he’s already striding across camp. Moving purposefully towards where he knows any new caravans full of cartographers would have been parked.

Cartographers, Jesper thinks, trying and failing to tamp down on the fluttery hope rising within him. Cartographers could mean—

“Jes!”

Jesper stops dead in his tracks. There's a swarm of butterflies made up of half hope and half fear flapping up his spine. He turns, and is met with familiar wild auburn curls and wide, crystalline blue eyes.

Jesper might not be special, but right now, he’s feeling pretty fucking lucky.

“Wylan!”

They run—literally run—to meet each other's outstretched arms, crashing and holding onto each other tightly.

“Wy,” Jesper whispers. He closes his eyes and rests his head on top of Wylan’s, soft curls pillowing his cheek. Wylan melts into him, head buried in Jesper’s large coat, hugging him even tighter.

Wylan looks up, but doesn’t try to put any further space between them in the slightest. He grins. “Jesper.”

It’s a good look on him, Jesper thinks. Smiling. It makes the freckles dotted all across the bridge of his nose to his cheeks crinkle up like clusters of stars. It makes his eyes look like precious gems. Like solid cut sapphire.

Thanks for playing!

[666writingcafe]

A Reward: Solomon/Asmo

Part Three of Special Bonus Content

Asmo grabs Solomon's hand and practically drags him onto the bed, looking so excited that he might just start bouncing off the walls at any moment.

"I can't believe you did that," I tell Solomon, referring to him timing me just a few moments ago. He shrugs, trying and failing to hide his smirk.

"I was simply curious, that's all." Asmo snorts, shaking his head.

"Oh, please," he retorts. "You're not fooling anyone. You timed MC so that you could come up with a plan to make them scream quicker." Solomon leans in and whispers something in his ear. Whatever it is makes Asmo's eyes light up, and the two of them look at me devilishly.

I should be worried, given that both the Avatar of Lust and one of the most powerful sorcerers in the human world are practically fucking me with their eyes, but instead I'm somehow eager for whatever they have planned.

"Solomon has a theory," Asmo tells me. "If you don't mind, we'd like to test it and see if it's true."

"What's the theory?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Solomon replies. "All you have to do for right now is watch." The next thing I know, the two of them are passionately making out right in front of me. I've heard rumors that they've hooked up multiple times before, but to actually see it happen...

I'm not gonna lie; it's incredibly hot.

And yet I can't help but feel excluded. They're doing it on purpose, aren't they?

They want to see how long it will take for me to beg for their attention. My pride doesn't want to give them the satisfaction. My lust, on the other hand...

"Aww, you poor thing!" Asmo coos at me, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Are you feeling left out?"

"I don't know, Asmo," Solomon responds with a smirk. "They haven't said anything yet, so maybe they're content with merely watching." I bite the inside of my cheek in order to keep my composure. I don't know whether I want to yell at them for being mean or start whining for them to pay attention to me.

"They look awfully flustered, Solomon. They might be too nervous to tell us what they want."

"Then perhaps we should try harder to encourage them." With that, the two of them resume their make out session, except this time they make sure I'm able to hear every single lewd noise that comes out of their mouths.

I can't take it anymore.

"Please!" I know I sound pathetic, but I at least got their attention.

"Please what, MC?" Solomon asks. "We can't read your mind."

"Please..." Their intense gazes are making it incredibly hard for me to think straight.

"It's okay," Asmo tells me. "Take a deep breath." Once I do, I find it a bit easier to collect my thoughts.

"I'd like it if you'd touch me. Please." The words come out in a near whisper. The two men exchange brief looks before Solomon replies,

"Well, since my apprentice asked so nicely, I suppose we could oblige." The next thing I know, the two of them are all over me, touching and kissing every inch of my body. It's quite pleasant.

At first. After a while, I end up wanting more than just their hands and mouths. As if sensing this desire, Solomon and Asmo soon stop their movements and look at me expectantly.

"I..." Why are the two of them so intimidating together?

"Yes, MC?" Asmo asks. I swallow nervously. No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to respond to his question.

"Do you want me and Asmo to be inside you?" Solomon whispers in my ear. I hum affirmatively, unable to do anything else.

"Use your words, then. Tell us that you want us to fuck you." Asmo's fingers ghost over my sides, making me shiver.

"Yeah, MC," he murmurs. "Use that pretty mouth of yours."

"I..." I close my eyes to center myself. "Please help me feel full."

"Good MC."

I can see why the dream realm can be dangerous, because right now, I don't think I want to wake up.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick

[yuseirra]

Kamiki is such a weird character. I keep talking about him because he's like a puzzle. I want to make sense of him because I'm... really confused when it gets to him. I really enjoy analyzing characters, but I usually don't even feel the need to write things down to figure out their character: for his case though?

There are so many claims about him being a horrible, evil, maniac, a heartless psychopath serial killer selfishly using others for his own gain.

Since he's supposedly the father of the protagonist and who had a relationship with Ai, I look at him intently whenever he makes an appearance, because I get curious just what is UP with this man and see him for myself, and I find that when he ACTUALLY does something, he.. tends to be so mild compared to what he's been thought to be. It's so weird. He's nothing like all those things he's said to be when he shows up in person, so the information I've been given to interpret him and the actual character does not match up. I keep feeling he has a kind nature. I think I believe that more compared to the descriptions he has because... it's what he actually is, you know.

People say he's done things, but we never see it in present tense with him actually carrying out these actions in person. It's all speculation.

You see, the thing is, we NEVER get to see him actually DO things on screen. We still don't know what he's said on the phone with Ai (and it turns out that he probably really didn't say much. I say he really DID want to only just send her the bouquet. Anyhow, Ai doesn't seem that uncomfortable talking to him, and we find she had him in her heart all along.) In that phone call with Nino as well, if you see her reactions, it was about turning themselves in?? How was that supposed to be a trigger to go stab a person? Could he have predicted this? Claims that he's manipulated and caused people to become killers? Well, we see ONE case of it something like it happening right now in 161 OH MY GOD even our main protagonist, Aqua could not escape this weird.. turn of events, and here we see Kamiki ACTUALLY wanting to keep Aqua from trying to kill him/become a murderer for whatever intent he has behind it. Aqua still ends up doing something really reckless. In this case, it's exactly the OPPOSITE result of what Kamiki's desired.

I really feel like he never intends for these things to happen and yet, it does. What is there for him to gain from this??? At least for Ai, Gorou and this current.. 161's case, I don't think he even dreamed of this happening. I don't know about the other cases if there are but, Nino says all he did was "talk", and that must be it... he could have some powers to make people grow insane by just talking maybe, but even if it's so, I think it's happening against his wishes and it's not something he can control.

To add, there really isn't much solid base for these claims he's facing STILL, even till the series reaches its end. Some accusations are being thrown at him, but just how much has ACTUALLY taken place? What's the truth? If he's a murderer, just how many lives did he take? I guess... that could be revealed later but; why.. keep it so hidden if he really is that kind of person? In 160, he says he didn't do anything. What if that's true? Why do we never see him take some direct action, even till the final arc? To be fair, there IS the case of Yura, but even that is very vague. I'll talk about that a little more later.

At this point, I feel like they've never shown these scenes to us BECAUSE that would make for a twist. If things go as expected and he is just a mere serial killer who's killed anyone who surpasses Ai for his self-satisfaction, it wouldn't need to be kept so hidden;; in fact, it should have been revealed more because that'd make this guy a menacing antagonist our heroes must defeat. It would add more drive and flavor and make us want to cheer for Aqua's revenge, but it isn't that way. The twist would be that, he could have really done nothing much.. been pretty sensible all along.

In cases like Nino or Ryosuke, we've seen situations where they expressed hatred, stabbed someone, or did something drastic. We see them being dangerous people.

But with Kamiki, whenever they actually do something, it’s not really a big deal, and they come across as rather gentle. To the point where their actions could even be interpreted as kindness. From what I see, they seem to have a genuinely good nature, and apparently, they used to be like that.

There’s just one thing that bothers me—Yura’s case. Honestly, their reaction back then was really strange. When I look at Kamiki’s behavior patterns, whenever they’re dealing with something overwhelming or hiding their true feelings, they always smile. He says some really weird things and he smiles... anyhow, yeah, he does seem to feel guilt about it...

I mean, if they were going to kill Yura, there wouldn’t be any reason to warn her to 'watch her step,' right? That’s what confuses me. What needs to be cleared up now is this: Ai, Ryosuke, and Gorou—he wasn't responsible for those three deaths at least. So, if this suspicion can be resolved, unless there's solid proof that they’ve killed others, it all just sounds like speculation. Is there anything that’s really been confirmed to be their doing? Tsukuyomi was wrong once already; should I trust her about Kamiki's true motives?

Why do I keep feeling like this person is actually a good person every time they appear? Their actions and the accusations are so different.

It’s starting to feel like, 'Could this kind of person really have killed anyone?' Is this supposed to happen or am I reading this story wrong? But here’s the thing—I think the author and I are on the same wavelength with some things; I’ve guessed so many things correctly...

There’s something more to this. This isn’t the end… It feels too suspicious.

If Kamiki's really, truly bad, I’ll accept it—I’ve already said that they should die if they are. But there’s still something nagging at me. I wouldn't be the only one, right?

A truly bad person with real fault wouldn’t behave this way. Of course, people act in all sorts of ways. But this character… something always feels off, so I can’t be certain.

And honestly, that would make for a better story. In the grander context and message of the narrative, it would be more fitting if this character were actually innocent but wrongly accused over and over. That’s what I think.

Also, the fact that Ai left a message asking someone to help this person… that’s partly why I keep thinking about this. They seem really kind…

It makes sense why Ai might have loved them. I get it. I think this person is actually good.

You see, I didn't hold much thought about the guy and just went along with the claims he faced until I heard "Fatal", and having seen Ai wanting to help the guy. Just three seconds in the song (I didn't even know the lyrics at first) I get this...rush of sensation... it's so hard to describe, but I just knew, this emotion there, that must be his.. and so I started drawing him and Ai a lot. I rarely get these wrong. It was such a strong wave of feelings I got.. I guess that's been one of my biggest fuel for the past few months! I really hope I'm right! I felt very.. stunned and sure back then. It was a very strong type of feeling that anchored my thoughts. I trust my intuition when it comes to emotions, I'm usually good with them! It's hard to ask others to trust with me, but I can write posts like these with the reasoning that stems from those feelings I have along with some evidence I find from the work! I've already stepped too deep into this pit and I'll be so embarrassed if I'm wrong but, at least I had fun. I think I've been learning a lot.. having thought a lot... it's been good practice, trying to read characters- I really want to be good at it! It's fun!

[stormblessed-s]

Alright, so let’s talk about the season 2 finale. I have two main points I'd like to talk about.

First one: Dean's sacrifice to get Sam back.

I knew it was coming, so this time around I could pay more attention to details during the whole season. We could see something like that was building up since John's death.

Dean never accepted John's sacrifice, not really. Knowing that his father made a deal with the very demon they had spent their lives hunting down, and knowing he did that to bring Dean back to life, broke him. It became quite clear that he felt undeserving of it. Most episodes this season we can feel Dean's anger and self-loathing, and all this goes back to John's sacrifice; Dean really believes he should have died that night and stayed dead.

His behavior gets erratic, he's always on edge. Dean's always been more of an action kind of guy, but he gets more reckless as episodes go by. In his mind, he shouldn't be alive anymore, so he doesn't care much about what could happen to him.

And then we get to episode 21 and Sam dies. That’s when Dean reaches his breaking point. He had already lost his father; he was not willing to lose his brother too. So he does what he had been entertaining on doing since “Crossroad Blues”; he summons a demon and makes a deal to get Sam back, in exchange for his own soul.

I’m not gonna lie, when I watched this the first time, I thought Dean was kind of a hypocrite, because he resented John for his decision, but ended up taking the same path when faced with similar circumstances. Rewatching it now, I don’t think my first assessment was actually wrong, but there’s more to Dean’s motivations than just selfishness.

John had given him a mission; he had to keep Sam safe and find a way to save him, but Dean failed. And in failing, he also lost the only thing he had left in the world; his brother. And when we take into consideration that Dean truly believed he shouldn’t be alive anymore, along with his tendency to do anything within his reach to protect his family... Well, maybe it was kinda selfish and hypocritical of him, but it was so in character as well. There was nothing Dean wouldn't do to protect his brother, and he proved that when he accepted that deal.

(Also, I don't think Dean would have the strength to keep going and living his life without Sam, at least not at that point. He had just lost his father, there was no way he would be able to move on from these traumas by himself. Dean is a lot of things, but he's not the best when it comes to dealing with his grief.)

And then we get to my second point: Sam.

I don't even have enough words to describe how much this boy broke my heart this season.

After the death of their father, he was forced to watch, powerless, his big brother spiraling into something he had never seen before. It was so sad how he tried to do his best to help Dean, just for Dean to shut down every one of his attempts. And the way Jared played everything was just great; I suffered with him the entire time, could almost feel Sam’s pain as if my own. And for me, who’s never been much of a Sam fan, it was kinda surprising how empathetic I ended up being with his struggles.

Then, Sam died, and everything went to shit. And now I’m here, getting all emotional because Sam has to deal with the fact that his big brother is going to die in a year and again he has no idea what he can do to help him. (Yeah, we all know Dean’s gonna be back, but Sam doesn’t know that at that point, so I’m going along with it and allowing myself to feel sorry for him.)

The satisfaction I felt when they killed the yellow-eyed demon doesn’t compare to the emotional trauma this show causes… there’s so much angst, dear lord. But even though they break my heart, I still love this show a lot so… I regret nothing.

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

What's your least favorite panel in the comic? Is there any specific panel you wish you could go back and redraw/want to actively redraw some time?

This question really got me thinking.

I went back through my archives and glanced through some of the early stuff I drew. There's plenty of wonky looking stuff there. Plenty that, if given the chance (chance = energy x time x reward) I would redraw in a heartbeat. I mean just look at this:

There's also several panels I wish I could have expanded on. Heck, there is an episode in season 2 where Steven asks Pearl about corrupted gems, and it's... well, it's pretty boring. I even remember being completely exhausted when I was working on this, KNOWING that I wanted to give it more oomf but not finding it in myself to force the work, because I wanted to move on.

Heck, I even have unreasonable dislike of panels which I'd deemed OK at the time of their inception, because now I realize I could do it better.

But they work well ENOUGH all the same.

It's weird. There's plenty that I COULD go back and change, of course. But WOULD I? I can't say that I would. I don't feel like erasing over the old version would give me the satisfaction I expect. Those 'bad' panels were a part of the journey. An important one! They may not have been as pleasing as their better counterparts, but they help to remind me what I decided to change about my art, and how I've improved enough to know better now.

So do I have a 'least' favorite panel? Yeah, probably. Several.

Would I change them? No.

Because if I did, I would just end up with MORE 'least favorite' panels.

They're a part of the evolutionary tree. I'm not trimming it. I'm appreciating history.

[imtrashraccoon]

The spicy chapter has arrived! I am not sorry for that one... I would classify this one as a sweet kind of spicy though, rather than a hot spicy if that makes sense.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Horror - Pepper

Word Count: 2,201

"Okay, now we just need to add a teaspoon of pepper and combine everything," you said.

Axe nodded and went to rinse off his hands in the sink while you got the pepper container out of the cupboard.

For whatever reason, the lid was screwed on a lot tighter than you remembered and you struggled to get it off. Unfortunately, you applied a bit too much effort and the cap came off the jar suddenly. You fumbled the little glass jar and a bunch of pepper spilled out onto the countertop.

You couldn't help but sneeze, no doubt because of the mini explosion that sent the pepper into the air. Your nose was itchy and now your eyes were watering as well. So you tried to get away and back up a few steps, only to bump into Axe who was suddenly behind you. You gasped in surprise and he placed his hands on your shoulders to steady you.

"what was that?" he asked.

You wiped your eyes on your sleeve and sniffed to try and clear your nose again. "I accidentally inhaled some pepper and sneezed. I'm alright now though," you responded.

"that was adorable...do it again!"

You balked and glanced up at him in confusion. His singular red eyelight was at least twice the size it was normally and he looked absolutely enraptured right now.

"No? Sneezing isn't adorable, it's annoying at best..." you answered slowly.

He actually had the audacity to look disappointed that you couldn't sneeze on command. His eyelight returned to it's normal size pretty quickly though and you were momentarily fascinated by the implications of how that worked.

He sighed and let go of your shoulders. "too bad, it was small and cute...like you..." He had a bit of a mischievous look on his face all of the sudden and if you didn't like him, you would've gotten really annoyed that he had called you short, again.

You rolled your eyes and went to go clean up the pepper you'd accidentally spilled. "You're on thin ice, big guy..." you warned, although there was no real malice in your tone.

Axe didn't reply and you could feel him watching you while you measured out the required amount of pepper. Once you'd given the stew a quick stir and plopped the lid on, you turned on the pressure cooker so it would cook.

Turning to Axe, you placed your hands on your hips and smiled in satisfaction. "So, in a few hours, we'll have some amazing beef stew to eat. Thanks for your help by the way, it would've taken a lot longer by myself."

He nodded quietly but continued studying you. He kind of looked like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should.

So, you decided to give him a little encouragement and placed your hand on his arm. "What's on your mind?" you asked gently.

He didn't say anything for a moment longer. His eyelight lingered on your hand before flicking back up to your face. Then, he took a step closer and practically scooped you up into his arms.

You let out a squeak of surprise and scrambled to steady yourself, with your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders. Then, you realized that you were basically nose to nose with him and to your shame, you froze like a deer in the headlights.

He stared back at you and his permanent grin grew wider the longer he did so. The center slit in his eyelight expanded and contracted briefly until he seemed to make up his mind about something. He then proceeded to carry you into the living room and sat down on the couch with you in his lap.

You finally managed to recover and find your voice again. "Um, Axe...? What are you doing?" you asked in a small voice.

He blinked and his eyelight refocused on your face. He seemed to realize that you were a little uncomfortable and his cheekbones flickered with a cobalt blue glow.

He cleared his nonexistent throat and let go of you. "...sorry... i got carried away..." he murmured.

You sat back on your haunches slightly so you weren't as close and so you felt like you could breath easy again. "I'm not mad," you started to say. "You just scared me a little..."

His bonebrows furrowed with concern and he quickly looked away from you. "i didn't mean to scare ya... i just... i wanted to hold ya so bad..."

Well, now you were a bit torn. He looked so ashamed, like a dog caught stealing a bone, and you couldn't be actually upset with him. Still, he should've at least asked before just scooping you up like that.

You decided that you'd rather ignore how awkward this situation was and move on. He had apologized afterall and you didn't think he'd had any ulterior motives from what you could tell. There wasn't anything wrong with just holding someone you cared a lot about, as long as they actually wanted to at least. Well, you didn't mind snuggling up to him normally, so why not now?

"Did you want to cuddle then?" you asked.

Immediately, Axe's gaze locked with your own and he seemed to scan your face for any indication that you were messing with him. Finding none, he grinned and started to reach for you again, but hesitated.

"if you're sure?"

You rolled your eyes and decided to give him some more encouragement. Leaning in again, you wrapped your arms around his vertebrae and gave him a warm hug.

He barely hesitated for a second before encasing you in a bear hug of his own. You held each other for several long minutes before gradually relaxing your grip on each other.

At some point, Axe started to rake his claws very gently across your scalp. You let out a hum of contentment and nuzzled against his collarbone in response.

"your hair's really soft," he murmured. His phalanges ghosted over your shoulders before he added another small comment. "not quite as soft as your skin but still..."

"I guess so, at least compared to a guy like you who's made of bones," you remarked. "Although you make up for it since you're all soft on the inside."

"maybe..." He didn't sound like he fully believed you but he wasn't denying anything either.

Axe kept running his phalanges through your hair and softly scratching your scalp for several minutes. When he lost interest in that, he shifted you in his hold so that he could make eye contact with you again. After a few seconds of staring, he brought his hand up and gingerly ran his knuckles over your cheeks. He really did seem fascinated by the texture of your skin, how it seemed soft yet spongy at the same time, and how warm it was too.

"i... i really like ya..." he murmured.

You could feel your heart skip a beat and you blinked in surprise, wondering if you'd heard him correctly. He was staring intently into your eyes and had stopped touching you at the moment. You hadn't even known him long, maybe a few months at most, but it felt like you'd known each other for far longer.

You'd suspected for a while that he had feelings for you and now that you knew for sure, you felt rather hopeful. Maybe it was silly, but you'd started to wonder if the small crush you'd developed for him was something you should act on or not. The problem was that you were so different from each other, both physically and otherwise, and you knew there were things he hadn't told you about himself yet.

"You do?" you asked quietly.

He smiled and nodded, "yes, i have for a little while too."

You could feel your cheeks grow warmer the longer you retained eye contact with him but you didn't mind in the slightest.

"I really like you too..." You hesitated for a moment before asking, "Do you...like me like that?"

He tilted his skull in a questioning way and the corners of his smile twitched slightly. "like what?"

"Like..." Your blush grew more intense as you tried to figure out how to explain what you meant. "Sorry... Do you like me enough to...be interested in a relationship...?"

He chuckled quietly and moved some of your hair behind your ears before even trying to respond. "i am...although it's still a bit early for that, right?"

You knew he was right but you couldn't help wondering. Still, it was reassuring that he hadn't rejected the idea entirely. Maybe when you'd gotten to know each other better he'd reconsider.

"Ah, no, you're right..." you murmured and glanced away.

Axe hummed and leaned closer to you. When you looked up slightly, he pressed his skull against your forehead and wrapped his arms around you in a gentle embrace.

"you're a special human...but you'll have to forgive me for not sayin' yes right now. and i don't ever want to hurt ya...but there's some things i'm not quite ready to tell ya."

You slowly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him keep talking. It was disappointing, sure, but you were trying your best not to focus on his rejection too much right now. There was a first time for everything and being told "not yet" wasn't a bad thing considering everything you'd gone through.

"call me selfish all ya want, but i'd like to keep ya to myself and get to know ya a little while longer... i'm not used to domestic stuff like this, lil' chip..."

He finally pulled back slightly but continued maintaining eye contact with you. The edges of his single eyelight seemed fuzzy and his bonebrows were a little furrowed with concern.

You could feel the emotions he was going through just underneath the surface and for a moment, your own seemed rather insignificant in comparison. Here was a person who'd been through so much hardship and lost so many close friends to a tragedy he was powerless to prevent. Then there was you, a person who'd never actually struggled to have enough to eat and while you were certainly lonely, you'd never had to grieve over losing family or friends like he had many times over.

You would wait for him.

He was worth putting aside your selfish wants until he felt ready to say yes, however long that would take. You'd enjoyed his friendship so far anyways and you really hoped this conversation wouldn't make things awkward between you two. Spending time with him had become something you really looked forward to and helped you get through each boring work day. He was easily the best thing that had ever happened to you lately and there was no way in the world you were going to ruin this.

"In this instance, it's okay for you to be selfish, Axe. Besides, I wouldn't want to risk ruining this friendship by jumping into something before either of us are ready to. I'm glad I met you and I'm proud to count you as a good friend but if we decide anytime soon to become more than what we are now, I won't complain either."

He smiled and stroked your cheek in a tender way. "i'm glad i met ya too..." he murmured.

For a moment neither of you said anything else and just sat there studying each other. He seemed perfectly content to stare at you for hours and you wished you could know what went through his mind whenever he saw you. On the other hand, you generally hated maintaining eye contact for longer than a few seconds with people, but he was different. You really liked how expressive his eyelight was and how beautiful the deep red colour was.

"hey, uh, do you...?"

You made a questioning hum and tilted your head.

Axe seemed to get a little flustered and the blue glow grew darker while he struggled to find the words. "would you...? can we...?"

"You can just tell me what's on your mind, big guy..." you said.

"is it bad that i want to kiss you?" he finally asked.

You blinked in surprise and for a moment you didn't know what to do. You just knew you were blushing heavily the longer this moment went on but you needed to answer him.

"No? I don't mind if you do..."

He seemed surprised that you'd actually agreed and studied you for a moment. Then, he reached out and carefully cupped your left cheek, being mindful of his claws while doing so. He leaned closer and pressed his teeth against your lips in a careful but still tender kiss.

You hadn't known what to expect but it wasn't at all like kissing a human was like. It was gentle, simple, and kind of experimental. His bones were cool and dry to the touch, yet you could still feel the hum and warmth of his magic.

It was nice...

Axe pulled back slightly although he remained cupping your cheek for a moment longer. "you're really cute, ya know?" he hummed.

You chuckled softly, "You are too..."