#I’d apologize for not posting but I feel like that’s all I do lol

[fle4floves]

Sometimes u just gotta draw some dang birds can I get an amen 🔥🔥🔥

[i-smoke-chapstick]

saw that you're in your got era so perhaps jealousy headcanons for the got or hotd characters? 👀 literally anyone from these characters - robb, jaime, margaery, oberyn, theon, cersei or ramsay, I'd love to see your interpretation on any of them ! ( or aemond, alicent, aegon, gwayne, OTTO !!, larys, daemon or mysaria for hotd, again whichever era you feel like it !!) and just for future reference, do you write for asoiaf characters or mainly the shows?

'LOVE CAN KILL, [jealousy! hcs]

-GOT / HOTD CHARACTERS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Robb, Jaime, Margaery, Oberyn, Cersei, Joffrey, Ramsay, Tyrion, The Hound, Aemond, Aegon, Alicent, Gwayne, Daemon

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; jealousy, and how some characters deal with it ;)

⋆ tags/warnings. GOT and HOTD!characters x female reader. SFW! But naturally, some of these characters get a bit suggestive! Possessive behavior, canon typical violence, etc. Please send in more GOT/HOTD requests! Apologies this took so long, this is more characters in a post than I've ever done lol. Unfortunately I'm not super familiar with Otto, Larys, Theon, or Mysaria, so I decided to pick some characters I'm more familiar with! (Joffrey is my #1 favorite of all time, my sincerest apologies.) Whew, 14 characters ! For right now I'm only writing for the TV shows! (i've only read book 1, lol)

𝑅𝛰𝐵𝐵 𝑆𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐾

♫ “I wasn't thinking when I told you to stay.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

With Robb, it's all about the body language. And boy, he's horrible at hiding it.

He can have a hard time placing the feeling as jealousy. He was raised to be honorable. But feelings of...neglect run deep with him. Oldest child syndrome, if you will.

Which is why his jealousy most likely manifests in subdued, quiet behavior. Part of him will recognize he's being ridiculous, while another part of him is silently fuming. Fists clenched, he'll send you an intense stare as he watches you converse with another lord.

His emotions leak through his expressions. When he catches you staring back, his gaze will flit down, and he'll wait patiently for you're time. Or...in most cases...he'll march right up, placing himself between you and the man. Maybe a small, "I'll take it from here." If the lord is offering to help you with something.

A subtle touch on the small of your back. It's a small claim, a subtle "back-off."

A lot of his jealousy also transforms into protectiveness more than anything. He'll offer to accompany reader to places he wouldn't normally be concerned about. He's close by, and he's reminding her wordlessly, he's watching over her and any threat.

Finally, when you two are alone, will he drop down that guard of his. Covering up that burning pit inside him with casual humor, you can sense the underlaying seriousness of his voice in his light teases.

"You’re quite popular these days. Should I be worried that I’m not your only admirer?"

He certainly beds you, having something to prove. And only afterwards when you are in his arms, sweaty and warm from the candlelight, wrapped in furs...will he calm down.

"It’s not that I don’t trust you… It’s them I don’t trust. Some men don’t know how to keep their place." He'll whisper, holding onto you firmly.

𝐽𝐴𝐼𝑀𝐸 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “You don't know that you're in over your head.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Jaime's jealousy is burning. It's simply the way he was raised. And gods, you are his.

Numerous sarcastic remarks flow between the two of you and the man who he believes has essentially stolen your affections. His taunts are offhand, dry remarks, often directed towards his "opponent" or even you, if he's feeling bitter enough.

"I didn’t realize he was such a comedian. Maybe I should ask him for pointers." He'll say, with that sarcastic drawl. "If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to make me jealous. Not that it would work, of course." He chuckles, but his gaze is sharp.

Depending on the offense, Jaime's reactions differ. If you simply have an admirer, a few...well chosen words are directed towards them. His confidence allows him to not be too bothered. Maybe standing closer, clearly showing off to whatever poor soul thought they had a shot with you.

It's a different story if you are friends with the person involved, or entertain their advances even mildly or jokingly.

That's when the uncharacteristic tension comes out, full of small twitches in his jaw and curt, smug responses. His visible annoyance is uncontrolled.

We saw how he was with Loras when it came to Cersei. If he feels truly threatened, whether it's by another pretty boy, or just someone he feels could...hypothetically...have the upper hand...He'll corner them when you're off somewhere else. And give a small warning, from the Kingslayer himself.

"You seem to have forgotten who you're dealing with, so let me remind you." He leans in just close enough for his words to sink in. "Whatever you think you might be to her… you’re not. Let’s keep it that way, hm? I'd hate to see you make any...lasting mistakes."

𝑀𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝐸𝑅𝑌 𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “It was just too hard to push you away.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Margaery is smart with her feelings. She knows how to play the game, and play it well. Instead of showing her jealousy openly, she's a touch more composed than most characters on this list.

She recognizes just how precious you are, and admires that. She doesn't necessarily blame others when they become...attached to you.

When jealousy arises, she views it more as a small problem in need of being handled. And she knows how to handle things.

She embraces the graceful competition, subtly outshining anyone who seems to get in the way of her goals. Her goal being you're affection, of course. You're already hers, and she sees no problem in working to keep it that way.

This appears in gestures of strategic sweetness to keep you close, perhaps wearing your favorite gowns on her, and offering that charming smirk. She doesn't shy away from manipulating you, just a teeny bit.

"They’re certainly captivated by you. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to keep your attention." She teases, "Besides, who could ever compare to us?"

Her words carry a playful undertone, but she makes her point clear. Laughing charmingly, threading her arm through yours.

Very rarely does she think she's in any serious danger. She prides herself on being yours and knowing how to keep you on a tight leash. Though...if she feels genuinely worried, she expresses her feelings quite clearly but still gently. She reminds her lover of their shared goals, and all that they've built together.

"My, you do attract admirers easily, don’t you? I’ll have to start guarding you more closely." She gives you a playful look, though her touch on your arm will linger just a bit longer than usual.

𝛰𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑌𝑁 𝑀𝐴𝑅𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿

♫ “Let me go, but you won't let me go.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oberyn doesn't feel insecure. How could he? He knows, deep down, that you're his. Jealousy isn't something he confines himself too, he views it as an ugly emotion, capable of getting rid of the true wonders love has to offer.

That being said...he is only a man. And he is fiercely protective. If anyone were to flirt with you and you were clearly uninterested, it would be a swift death, or at the very least, he'd make his point clear with a blow or two and a cutting edge remark. Especially if they are a Lannister. He enjoys you being admired, but only to a certain extent.

"Your efforts are wasted, they’re far too captivating for someone like you. I’d suggest you find someone more... suited to your charms." He begins, hand itching for his spear, "Consider this your first and last warning."

Yeah, he means business.

Most of the time, he spins the situation to show-off. Showcase his own passion and devotion to you. If it's simply a friend of yours, he may even offer them to join in. If not, he'll spend the entire night practically worshipping you, promising that he's the only one who could ever make you feel like this.

Similarly to Margaery, he teases you lightly.

"You have a lovely laugh. But I must admit, it’s much better when it’s for me alone."

Oberyn doesn't shy away from PDA either. It's that assertive reclaiming he seems to favor, pulling you close, whispering something that affirms your affections for each other. He'll revel when he watches the other mans face fall in dismay.

He might get cocky, and push it a bit far. By the time he's done, the 'competition' will be utterly humiliated and embarrassed. He'll be smirking at his own quips.

"I assure you, my friend, my lover favors...more substantial things." He motions to the poor mans crotch.

You're gonna have to give him a slap on the arm.

𝐶𝐸𝑅𝑆𝐸𝐼 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “Consequence of loving me can be cruel.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Cersei's jealousy is intense and multifaceted, to say the least. It manifests in a mix of cold fury and harsh threats, channeling that anger into much more controlling behavior.

Deep down, she is terribly insecure. Once another man or woman as your attention, and she catches on, she's coolly lashing out. And she catches on quickly.

At first she may appear indifferent, but if you look close enough, you can see the subtly giveaways. The way her lip curls, her nostrils flare, and her knuckles go white gripping her wine chalice.

If you're the first one to confront her, and attempt to reassure her, you'll save yourself some trouble down the line. Guaranteed, she'll deny it, but still make a passive-aggressive remark here and there. But eventually she'll calm down, edges softening.

That rare moment of vulnerability that you're not sure is manipulation or not. She'll look towards the ground, running her thumb over you're hand on her cheek. She'll sit on the edge of her bed, jaw clenched.

Now, it's a whole different story if you don't catch on to the early signs. If you don't manage to reassure or call her out in time, that jealousy implodes.

She may confront you first, anger bleeding through her. She runs on it. She may even threaten you, oblivious to the potential consequences her words might have.

“You think you can charm your way into my affections by paying attention to that little fool?" She's standing up, loathing distorting her features. Her voice raises. "Perhaps I should throw a feast in her honor. Let’s see how charming she is when surrounded by my people."

It's threats and threats and more and more threats...which can be especially worrying if the person she's jealous of is a friend of yours.

Almost every scenario ends with you having to comfort her, treading carefully with the words you say.

Now, when it comes to confronting the competition, she makes it very clear. Though, these threats are often much more impulsive. A swig of wine, and she gracefully moves towards them when you're out of sight.

A faux compliment or two, before she whispers, close.

“You’ll find that my guards are quite loyal to me. A simple command, and they’ll ensure you never breathe the same air as her again.”

It only makes her feel a bit better. But, regardless, she's smiling smugly, feeling proud of herself when the offenders face turns white.

𝐽𝛰𝐹𝐹𝑅𝐸𝑌 𝐵𝐴𝑅𝐴𝑇𝐻𝐸𝛰𝑁

♫ “Too much love can kill.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh, Joffrey. I'm obsessed with him.

Yeah. He has the worst jealousy issues out of everyone on this list. It's baaaaad. It's a cocktail of insecurity, possessiveness, and entitlement. As someone who has been raised to believe he is above others, and has been coddled his entire life...it infuriates him.

It's the same feeling you get as a child, when someone steals one of your toys. You belong to him. He never grew out of that mentality, or that feeling.

Be prepared for plentiful outbursts of anger. He's a tantrum personified, especially if he feels disrespected. Insecurity grips him tight and refuses to let up until he's either been heavily reassured...or the other person is... taken care of.

And even then, after reassuring him for hours, it may not be enough. You know how he hired a knight to take out Tyrion in the Battle of Blackwater? Yeah. That person will be paid a little 'visit.'

When reassuring him, similar to Cersei, you really have to be careful what you say, or it might make the situation even worse. At that point, he's seeing red.

"I’m the king! You should be grateful for my attention, not chasing after scraps!" He's huffing, pointing to himself as his breathing increases. He'll look at you with an ice cold glare, nose wrinkled in distaste.

He might even force his hand around your face, harshly grabbing you. He looks dead into your eyes, voice clear and low. "You're mine. You belong to me." He's seething.

If he notices you simply looking at anyone else too long, he'll feel beyond threatened in both his masculinity and position as king. Especially if you laugh at another mans jokes, or simply attempt to be friendly with a commoner or lord.

"What’s so amusing? You’d think you’d find better entertainment than that fool." He mutters under his breath harshly, bad habit of picking at his fingers. He'll shuffle uncomfortably. He'll look to you expecting agreeance. It's 100% that mentality of 'Friends? You don't need friends. You have me.'

Yeah, he keeps the very blunt insults coming. Petulant name calling is not above him. Includes, but is not limited too, "Degenerates, Idiots, Commoners, Peasants, or Cretins" which he may describe as being "Stupid, Disgusting, Repellent, Sickening, or Revolting." He's got a LOT of those angry remarks in the bank.

While he may not directly confront the offender, (he doesn't have time for idle threats.) He has his own ways of dealing with them. And that is a public humiliation ritual, making a mockery of any rival. And if they disobey ANY whim of his, they're gone. That one scene with Tyrion at his wedding? That "Kneel!"? He's commanding the same of any man unlucky enough to have threatened his claim on you. Oh, and they're going to be his cupbearer.

Even if they do as he asks, by now his anger will have transformed into that renewed sense of cruelty. "You're fingers or your tongue?...Or I could just cut your throat."

𝑅𝐴𝑀𝑆𝐴𝑌 𝐵𝛰𝐿𝑇𝛰𝑁

♫ “You're gonna suffer now, whatever you do.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

His jealousy may not be as overtly intense as Joffrey's, but it certainly is the scariest.

In his own words, he prefers being an only child. That same kind of mentality certainly carries over to his relationship with you. He prefers to be the only one you see that way.

He loves a good game, and that's what this is. If anything, it's quite exhilarating for him. Though, he is a huge hypocrite. For a man who thinks jealousy is boring coming from you, he feels it quite freely.

Sees it as a means of asserting dominance, whether that be through intimidation or overt manipulation. He doesn't deny it like most characters on this list. When he's feeling jealous, he says it. It's a small warning for you not to go any farther, lest worse things occur for you or the perceived threat.

He'll go up to whoever you are talking too, saccharine and honorable smile on his face. He'll casually interrupt, introducing himself as Lord Bolton's successor. Despite his calm demeanor, there is a tightness in his face, and a wicked look in his eyes, that only you can recognize. It will make you shiver.

If the rival persists, he'll find it all too amusing.

"You're bold, I'll give you that." He says with a boisterous laugh, and you already know the mans fate is sealed.

Looks like his hounds will be having another meal tonight. He'll have his men go out looking for the man, and he'll question him more...privately, when you aren't there to witness his tortuous taunts.

But for now, his focus is on you, and your loyalty to him. When he excuses the both of you, his hand is gripping yours painfully tight.

By the time you're in his chamber, he's on you, ripping your clothes off with a harsh intensity and pushing you to the wall. His nose is twitching in barely kept anger, forcing you to look at him.

We all saw that scene between him and Myranda when she threatens to marry someone else, and it was not pretty. His eyes are borderline bloodshot, and he can't keep his hands off you or your throat.

"You're mine." He leans forward, through gritted teeth. It's better you don't put up a fight, because he'll be having you and your attention one way or another.

Que the numerous kisses and bite marks soon to follow. And he is not gentle when he's inside you.

You'll never hear from the flirtatious lord again...and if you do, it's only in the prayers of his grieving family.

𝑇𝑌𝑅𝐼𝛰𝑁 𝐿𝐴𝑁𝑁𝐼𝑆𝑇𝐸𝑅

♫ “My love, you are not safe with me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Now, Tyrion's jealousy is more subdued and introspective versus some characters on this list. He has a good sense of self-awareness, and he's intelligent to figure out what he's feeling quite quickly.

At first he'll dismiss it as nothing more than an annoying feeling of insecurity he attempts to cover up. But...it doesn't last long. Especially when someone else makes you laugh. Or when Bronn makes a taunt with a half smirk, that some other fancy lord has taken a keen interest in his lady. (Bronn, you instigator!)

As such, Tyrion resorts to his usual humor to deflect any unpleasant feelings he may have when he's jealous. Similar to his brother, these witty remarks are are subtle intimidation technique, meant to dryly convey his displeasure.

"Ah, the sound of laughter. How quaint. I suppose I’ll have to work harder to earn your amusement." He forces a smile, masking his discomfort. "I didn’t realize I was competing for the title of Court Jester."

These feelings of inadequacy manifest in more self-deprecating ways for Tyrion, given his anger is more controlled. He might opt to drown his sorrows, so don't be surprised if you catch him drunkenly waving his chalice around, doing poor impressions of the so-called-lord that had your attention.

This doesn't mean he won't confront the rival, though. Quite the opposite. While he won't seek the man out, (For his sake, he isn't privy to seeing the tall handsome lord in person. He's not a masochist.) If he happens to come across him flirting with you first hand, or sees him during a feast, he'll make sure to throw one or two gibes out there.

"Desperation looks unflattering on you, my friend. Perhaps you should tone it down a notch." He speaks carefully, nodding to Bronn as a subtle warning. "Or at least the best you can manage..?"

If the rival flirts with you blatantly and in front of him, I can 100% imagine him putting them down. After a flirtatious remark directed towards you, he'll make a dry comment, "Flattery is wasted on me, but do go on; I’m always entertained by those who think they can win my affection." As if it was directed towards him. Probably shuts the man up for a moment.

When the two of you are alone, he'd be very grateful if you could just hold him. Give him that reassurance he craves when his carefree facade breaks. That moment of vulnerability means the world to him.

𝑆𝐴𝑁𝐷𝛰𝑅 "𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐻𝛰𝑈𝑁𝐷" 𝐶𝐿𝐸𝐺𝐴𝑁𝐸

♫ “I need you to go, don't fight me.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Listen up, Sandor doesn't take shit.

Jealousy isn't an emotion Sandor is particularly used too. In fact, he didn't think he'd find anyone to love in his lifetime, so the feeling is foreign and unpleasant. And, like a mean dog, Sandor's first reaction is to growl.

He doesn't like it. Says it's constricting, and it pisses him off. Not just the pretty boy lord flirting with you, but the whole situation in general. Makes him feel vulnerable, and weak.

Naturally, his first reaction is to distance himself. He may avoid you, grumbling, spitting out vile and vulgar comments to get you to run with your tail between your legs. It's better for the both of you that way.

"You think they’re worth your time? Just a pretty smile to distract you?" He scoffs, shaking his head. "You could do better. But then again, you always choose to suffer." He motions at himself, and it's a glimpse of that self-depreciation he buries.

But you love him for a reason, and you know that won't end well. Best way to handle him when he's jealous is to be gentle, and to listen.

He doesn't want empty reassurances. He's complicated that way, even if they are genuine. He isn't one for flowery words or overt displays of emotion, so the best way to comfort him would be to give him some space, but continue to take care of him.

It will still frustrate him, but eventually he'll cave. He'll rejoin you, silently, eventually. Won't offer any apologies, but maybe a gruff nod, and you two will commence whatever it is you two have.

In future instances, he becomes much more brutally honest with how he feels. Doesn't sugarcoat it. If he doesn't like someone, even if they are a friend, he expects them gone- or he'll take care of them regardless. That kind of possessive behavior is just something you'll have to work through.

I can imagine him silently brooding if he witnesses someone flirting with you first hand. Typically his size and reputation is enough to scare whoever away. He's looming over them, eyes dark, and ready to defend what's his.

When you take your leave, he'll confront the person with a very explicit threat or two.

"If you don’t back off, I’ll find a nice dark corner to stuff you in- preferably with a pile of shit." Or, "Get any closer, and I’ll rip your tongue out and shove it down your throat."

𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁𝐷 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “Get swallowed by the weight.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aemond has the most...complex jealousy out of everyone on this list. It's layered, and the outcome may be unpredictable. It's an emotional and volatile nature that's been building up for years since he was a child.

He often had feelings of jealousy for his brother, his nephews, etc. That trauma is deeply rooted in him, and it's hard to let go of old habits, given it's been present all his life.

You'll watch his head bow in distaste when you make small conversation with other lords. How his eye will gaze at you, almost warningly. His jaw will be clenched tight, and he'll avoid eye contact, looking off to the side in anger. He doesn't want to watch.

If it's a friend of yours, he can be a bit mean, questioning your loyalty a bit harshly.

"Friendship? Is that what you call it?" He speaks, angrily. A thinly veiled threat is directed to you, "It seems more like a prelude to betrayal."

He'll brood in the corner, silently waiting. That is, unless, he deems the man goes too far.

In the scene where he gets his eye put out by Lucerys, the conversation that starts before it happens pretty much sums his jealousy up. He's firm with his claim to Vaghar, and the same goes for you.

When Rhaena states that Vaghar was hers to claim, Aemond responds in kind, "Then you should've claimed her." And puts up a hell of a fight to prove his point. That same possessiveness carries over to his relationship with you. He doesn't back down. You're his.

He has no problems getting in between you and the man he feels threatened of. He offers a blunt threat.

"I could have you torn apart, limb by limb, and I’d sleep soundly at night. Be certain of that."

Guaranteed, mixed feelings of insecurity will rise to the surface. When you two are alone, he'll continue to brood silently, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, and body language tight.

Please do reassure him. He needs it. His eye will soften, and he'll place his hand over yours, leaning into your touch. With a soft huff of an air, a final warning slips past his lips.

"Don’t make me remind you why I’m the only one worthy of you."

𝐴𝐸𝐺𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ “I wanna hold on tightly.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Aegon handles jealousy poorly, much like he seems to handle everything else.

It's like throwing gasoline on a fire. Once that feeling in his chest flares up, it's shown through erratic behavior, sarcasm, and attempts to assert his claim in juvenile, insecure ways. Unlike his brother, he lacks the restraint to simply brood.

No, be prepared for plenty of mocking comments directed towards the man he's threatened of, and showy displays to prove he's the better choice.

Everyone knows he is unpredictable and reckless, and possessiveness drives him to act out. He certainly overindulges to cope with his insecurity, (getting shitfaced) and will gladly push your boundaries to get your attention back on him.

Not to mention the belittling comments he'll make.

"Oh, is that who you’ve chosen to entertain now? I didn’t realize your taste had grown so dull."

Prone to acting overtly clingy, almost like a restless cat. He will attempt to slide over into the conversation, resting an arm around you, or even pulling you away. He doesn't care if it's 'improper.' He probably brings up his status, his bloodline, acting over-the-top.

He's also no stranger to outbursts. His temper may make him lash out impulsively, whether that be towards you or the man whose got your attention. If he's in a particular mood, be ready to deal with a screaming Aegon, threatening to slaughter and burn said rival. His fist will come down hard on the council table.

He also doesn't care if he's making a show of it in front of the council members. Que Alicent or Otto attempting to placate him. He needs to have a cooler head if he's going to be ruling the Seven Kingdoms, and this type of behavior isn't very becoming.

He definitely thinks he's owed some make-up sex, if only to quell the insecure storm raging inside him.

"You think they could satisfy you? Truly?" He says, firmly, as he steps closer. Anger is burning in his words, volume raising. "They wouldn’t even know where to begin."

And he plans to show you that he's right.

𝐴𝐿𝐼𝐶𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “I'm afraid I'll pull you over the edge.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Alicent experiences jealousy complexly, just like Aemond. It gnaws on her until she's at her breaking point. Rather than overt displays or confrontations, she attempts to employ more strategic distance...but it always ends up resorting in icy politeness.

She's making her displeasure known through restrained, pointed remarks. Out of duty and pride, she'll attempt to avoid direct confrontation, but she wears her jealousy on her sleeve.

I imagine her withdrawing from the situation at first, if not for anything but her own sake. Her gut reaction, out of insecurity, is to escape the situation. It honestly makes her feel sick.

Unless she's forced to stay...then she'll begrudgingly offer a tight smile. Her responses are carefully measured, and she slips into that role of "queen" rather than a lover.

A part of it stems from passive aggressiveness, and another part of it is purely subconscious.

Speaking of passive aggressiveness, she'll make some pretty cutting remarks, either questioning your loyalty or purposely feigning ignorance to the situation.

"Perhaps I’m mistaken. But I know loyalty when I see it. Or when I don’t."

It's an all bark, no bite threat towards you. But it serves as an aggressive reminder of your connection with her, and that you are now apart of her duties.

If she does interfere beforehand, she'll make indirect remarks about the person causing her jealousy, but will most likely frame it as merely her own curiosity.

Maybe just a touch of self-depreciation, unintentional manipulation. Years of Otto's techniques have rubbed off on her.

"It’s of little consequence, truly. I simply thought I was the one you preferred to spend your time with. I may have misjudged."

𝐺𝑊𝐴𝑌𝑁𝐸 𝐻𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝛰𝑊𝐸𝑅

♫ “Hurts to say it over, over again.” Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

In contrast to Alicent, Gwayne has no problem when he feels threatened to step in. He's a member of a powerful house, and a knight no less. Those two things have taught him to be prideful and honorable.

He will defend your honor whenever he deems in necessary, and there are no exceptions. He certainly has a flash of a temper, but he believes he's much more restrained than others, given his training.

If he thinks someone is crossing a line, he'll interfere. He'll position himself quite closely to you, making his presence known.

He offers the man a silent warning, offering a cool, assessing look. It would be enough to communicate his disapproval.

And if the man persists...well...they'll end up with the end of a sword pointed at them.

Similar to Robb, Gwayne's jealousy appears more in his heightened protectiveness. He insists on staying close for your safety.

"Do they need to be reminded that you’re already spoken for?"

Obviously, his noble pride carries on. If he gets pushed, his jealousy will show more openly, taking the man aside, and telling them that he is more worthy of her time and attention. Might throw in a comment about his noble standing.

He'll take you aside when everything is said and done, reminding her his intentions are honorable. Everyone else is just...unworthy.

"You may not see it, but I know men like him. If he truly respected you, he wouldn’t need to linger around someone else’s beloved."

𝐷𝐴𝐸𝑀𝛰𝑁 𝑇𝐴𝑅𝐺𝐴𝑅𝑌𝐸𝑁

♫ "No matter how you feel." Love Can Kill by Lennon Stella

Oh boy, you'll have to keep this man on a tight leash when his jealousy flares up. It's as intense as he is, and he shows it openly.

He'll deny it, or embrace it, depending on the severity of the perceived offense. It's closely tied to that desire for power within him he can't seem to shake. Any affront to your loyalty is an affront to his own standing.

He switches from possessive protectiveness to outright hostility. There's really no in between. It's a raw and unfiltered fury that makes his hand shake and his eye twitch.

He doesn't tolerate rivals, and he's very upfront that he's the only one fit to be by your side. This comes through when he has you all to himself on his bed...

He'll confront the person whether you want him to or not.

"If they value their limbs, they’d remember you’re mine." He mutters casually, pacing around the room.

He carries that hard glint in his eyes. He may even mildly appreciate the sheer balls of the man stupid enough to attempt to flirt with you, but he'll shut it down quicker than anyone on this list.

"You’ve got a bold tongue. I wonder if I should cut it out..?" He'll look to you for permission. It's up to you if you wanna let the dragon loose!

[atlabeth]

unadulterated loathing (pt 2)

pt 1 / pt 3

pairing: fiyero tigelaar x fem reader

summary: you are forced to partner with fiyero on a history project. things don't go as you imagine.

a/n: sprinkling anthony bridgerton references in this because wreck my plans that's my man!! anyways this is actually going to be 3 parts because i have zero self control and ended up writing 15k words in total and im trying to see whether i like posting parts or doing one whole one shot more so there's going to be a third part. but for once in my writer life i have the whole thing written so it will be out in a couple days! have no idea how this fic became this long out of nowhere but i hope you all enjoy lol. stressed reader x calm bf will always be famous on this blog

wc: 4.9k

warning(s): almost cheating? fiyero is still w/ galinda for most of this so the line is very blurred but they dont cross it lmao. the slightest bit of angst but basically all fluff

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero spread his arms out as you took a seat in the grass. Idly, you wondered about getting grass stains out before he started talking again. “Fresh air, actual sunlight, and things to look at other than words on a page.”

“I do go outside,” you said wryly. “You act like I’m some hermit.”

He shrugged. “I only ever see you in class or at the library.”

“I’m just there most of the time,” you said with a slight laugh. “I’m not this smart by slacking off.”

Fiyero said your name with surprise. “Was that a joke?”

You laughed again. “Hardly.”

“I think it was,” he nodded. “You really are learning how to have fun.”

“I know how to have fun!” you exclaimed. “We just have different ideas of fun!”

“And what is your idea of fun?” Fiyero asked pointedly. “Studying? Attending class? Going through the intricacies of various languages?”

“That last one is very fun,” you defended. 

“How did you decide on linguistics anyways?” he asked. “You’re incredibly passionate about something I didn’t even know was a major here.”

“It’s not, technically.” You shrugged. “I’m a history major. I just convinced Doctor Dillamond to let me be his teacher’s assistant so I could include more linguistics lessons in the syllabus.”

“How do you do it?” he asked. “Oz— why do you do it? You’re stressed all the time. Surely taking one less class or not being a TA wouldn’t kill you. All of this seems like it is.” 

“I’m not like you, Fiyero,” you said. “I can’t get kicked out of a hundred schools and still be fine. I’ve got one chance, and if I squander it, then I’ve also squandered my dream. And that’s unacceptable to me.”

“There’s always second chances,” he said. “And third ones, too. Sometimes even fourth.” 

“Maybe for a prince,” you laughed. “But not for somebody like me.” 

“And just who are you?” Fiyero asked as he sat down next to you. “I know you’re Gillikinese and I know you’re probably going to succeed in whatever you attempt. But I still feel like I don’t know anything about who you are without the school uniform.” 

“Why does that matter?” you asked defensively. “We’re project partners, not friends.” 

“Because I’d very much like us to be friends,” he answered simply. 

That might have been the most shocking thing he’d said all day. Fiyero Tigelaar, Winkie prince and self-declared slacker and desired paramour of nearly every Shiz student, said he wanted to be your friend. 

Again, that warmth bloomed inside you. You tried to ignore it—tried to fully banish it. 

“Don’t do this,” you said, looking away from him. 

“Do what?”

“Act like you like me,” you said, stronger this time. “You— you do it with everyone, and that’s fine, but don’t do it with me.” 

“I’m not following,” Fiyero said. 

You glared at him. “I know you aren’t this daft.”

“Apologies,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how you figured I don’t genuinely like you.”

You blinked. “Because you’re you. You flirt with everybody so you can dance through life.”

“Of course,” Fiyero agreed. “It just so happens that I genuinely like you in addition.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Why?”

His laugh was nothing but shocked. “Are you asking me why I like you?”

“Well,” you glanced away with a huff, “when you put it like that it sounds ridiculous.” 

“I’ll bite anyways,” Fiyero said. “I like you because you know what you want. You never really stop talking about it, honestly.”

“Are you trying to compliment me?”

“You’re intelligent and driven and you don’t shy away from anything you want,” he continued. “And you thoroughly vex me in near every encounter we have, most joyously.”

“…So you like me because I’m stubborn and confusing,” you said. 

Fiyero sighed. “You‘ve got some serious self esteem issues.”

“I do not!” you exclaimed.

“You’ve tied your worth to your academic achievement,” he said. “You can’t see all the good you’ve already done, how smart you truly are, because you only stress about the next thing you need to do. You’d rather lose your mind over what’s to come than realize all you’ve got in the moment.”

Your mouth opened and closed for a good five seconds, like a fish out of water, before it snapped shut. 

“I thought you were supposed to be brainless,” you settled on. 

“I am,” Fiyero agreed with a chuckle. “But I also know people better than most, and our study sessions have given me ample time to study you.”

Great Oz, why was your face so hot? You felt like you were burning up from the inside out. Fiyero Tigelaar was killing you, and slowly at that. 

“Why are you studying me?” you asked pointedly. 

“Because you’re interesting,” he said. “And very beautiful.”

“Well, I’m— I’m glad we’ve finally reached a truce.” You tried to sound as casual as possible—you couldn’t let Fiyero know the full effect he was beginning to have on you. You didn’t think he would ever shut up about that, and Galinda certainly wouldn’t either. You didn’t want to make an enemy of her. “It’ll make this project much easier.”

“Yes,” Fiyero mused. “I believe it will.”

Amusement, and maybe something warmer, danced in his irises. A very small part of you wanted to let yourself fall, freely and uncaring, just as every other student did. 

You had to lock that part of you away, never to be seen again. You didn’t like Fiyero. He was still a nuisance in every single sense of the word. 

You swallowed, trying to cure your cottonmouth. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice. 

You needed to finish this essay immediately. 

-

You sighed when you heard a knock on your door. Coralie, for how smart she was, had a habit of forgetting her room key—so much so that you’d stopped bothering to lock the door on the days she went to class before you. 

“It’s unlocked, Cora!” you called out. You didn’t want to get up from your desk, not when you were in the middle of writing. You were worried that you would lose the thread of inspiration you’d finally caught the moment you got out of your chair. 

“You shouldn’t leave your door unlocked,” a familiar voice said. “All sorts of miscreants could get in.” 

Your hand slipped in your shock, but you couldn’t even be annoyed about smearing the fresh ink on the page or getting it on your shirt cuffs because you had more important things to worry about. Namely, your surprise visitor. 

“Fiyero?” 

“Present,” he affirmed as he leaned against your doorframe. “You’ve got a nice place here.”

“Thank you,” you said. “What are you doing here?” 

“Much less pink than Galinda’s,” he continued. “I think it’s the only color she owns, honestly. A bit absurd but—” 

“What are you doing here?” you repeated. 

“I should be asking you that question,” Fiyero said, eyes narrowing in on you. “I went to the library and you weren’t there.” 

You cleared your throat. “I was giving you the day off.” 

He frowned and stood up from the doorframe. “Who said I wanted the day off?” 

“You,” you said. “When you didn’t show up to Doctor Dillamond’s class today.” 

Fiyero brushed his hand through the air. “That’s different.” 

You looked at him expectantly. “So you skipped the class this project is for, but you don’t want to skip the actual project.” 

“That sounds about right, yes.” 

“You don’t even do anything whenever we’re together,” you said. “You just stare at me and complain about doing work and ask me about my life and take an hour to write one page of notes.” 

“That also sounds about right,” Fiyero said. “I enjoy your presence. Do you not enjoy mine?” 

If only he knew the way he’d been making you feel for the past week. He could never know that he appeared in your dream last night. 

“...Your presence is fine,” you said. “I just figured I would give you the day off, seeing as we only have one week left until it’s due.” 

“How much have you written already without me?” he asked. 

“Five pages, but that—” 

“You’ve nearly done half of the project without me?” Fiyero interrupted. 

“...Yes?” Why did you actually feel bad about this? 

Fiyero got closer so he could look over your shoulder at your work, and you found yourself holding your breath at his proximity. 

“Do you think you’re doing me a favor?” 

“Clearly,” you said. “The sooner it’s done, the sooner it’s over, and the sooner you don’t have to deal with me anymore.” You shrugged. “You said you wanted to ride my coattails anyways, so I figured I would make it easier for you.” 

“Just a few days ago you were chastising me for not doing my part,” Fiyero said. “Now you’re not even letting me try?” 

“I—” the words stuck in your throat, and again you felt your face heat. 

I don’t want to have to think about any of this more than I have to because I’m worried what I’ll realize. 

I don’t want to give you any more chances to take me off course because I know I’ll say yes. 

I don’t want to be around you longer than I have to because I think I’m starting to like you. 

“Yes?” 

“I am doing you a favor,” you finally decided. “You don’t have to worry about it. Go ride that horse of yours, or bother other students, or spend time with Galinda. You’ve earned it.” 

“Hardly,” Fiyero said. “I’m doing my part, whether you like it or not. We’ll meet at the library tomorrow morning before class like we’ve been doing.” 

“I have class at 8 in the morning tomorrow.” 

“...Then we’ll do it after class,” he reneged. “I do need my beauty sleep.” 

That got a smile out of you, which spurned one from Fiyero in turn. “I think that is one of the only genuine smiles you’ve given me since we started working together.” 

“I smile plenty,” you insisted. 

“At your books,” Fiyero said. “Not at me.” 

“That’s because my books are oh-so-beautiful,” you said. “And they don’t even need beauty sleep.”

He placed his hand on his heart. “You wound me.” 

Your smile grew and you set your pen down. “The library after class?” 

Fiyero nodded and tapped on your desk as he stood up. “Library after class.” 

He was about to go to the door when Coralie poked her head in. “Why is the door— oh! Fiyero!” She straightened up, plastering on a pretty smile as she stepped inside. “What brings you to our corner of Shiz?” 

“Doctor Dillamond’s midterm,” he said. “Your roommate here is trying to save all of the fun for herself.” 

“That sounds like her,” Cora nodded sagely. “You’re very good to try and keep her from that fate.”

Fiyero pressed his hand to his chest. “I consider it my duty. But I apologize for the intrusion—I’ll leave the two of you be.”

“Oh, stay as long as you want,” she spoke up. “I’m sure your partner wouldn’t mind.”

“He’s got things to do,” you interceded. “You’ve got things to do, Fiyero.”

He smiled knowingly. “I certainly do. You lovely ladies have a fine rest of your day.” He looked at you and said your name. “Don’t forget tomorrow.”

“How could I?” you said weakly. 

Fiyero chuckled and bowed his head in lieu of more parting words. The second he left, Cora turned to you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t,” you warned. 

“He came here to talk to you!” she exclaimed. “He found out your room number because he wanted to talk to you!” 

“Be quiet!” you exclaimed. “The door is still open—he can probably hear your screeching!”

Coralie shut the door and squealed. “He likes you!”

“We are project partners,” you enunciated. “Nothing more.” 

“Oh, I’m sure that’s what you think,” she said. “Just like I’m sure that he wants to be more.” 

“You’re acting like he isn’t with Galinda,” you said. “She controls this whole school—do you remember what happened to Elphaba when she didn’t like her?” 

Cora shrugged. “Sure. But I’ve been hearing there’s trouble in paradise.” 

That got you paying attention. “What?” 

“I knew it!” Coralie exclaimed—nearly yelled, honestly. “I knew you liked him!” 

“Be quiet!” you whisper-yelled. “Oz, what is wrong with you?” 

“I knew you liked him!” she repeated. “And he likes you— oh, it is too perfect!” 

“He does not like me,” you insisted, “and you are crazy.” 

“You didn’t say that you didn’t like him,” Coralie sung, and you screwed your eyes shut. 

“Fine!” you finally said. “Fine— I like him. Will you stop now?”

“Of course not,” she said, and you sighed. “How bad do you have it?”

“I don’t have it bad,” you scoffed. “I just— I enjoy spending time with him. And I think he’s kind of cute.” 

“Oh, you are full on head over heels,” she mused. “You just don’t know it. It’s okay.” 

You groaned as you buried your head in your hands. “I hate you.” 

She laughed. “And you like Fiyero.” 

“Shut up.” Your words were muffled, but you meant them all the same. 

You were comically doomed. 

-

The next day went… shockingly smooth. 

Fiyero was in the library when he said he’d be—he was even there before you, much to your surprise and he still had the notebook and pen you’d given him, much to his surprise. He made sure to bring an extra canteen of water for you, because he noticed you never had any with you. You were probably concerningly dehydrated. 

He tried to be a more attentive student to you than he’d ever been at any of his classes—not that that was difficult. You explained your outline and all the work you’d already done, what he could do on the last five pages and how to make his writing voice match yours to make a consistent paper. 

He wrote notes both on what you knew about Ilara Mayfair (a ridiculous amount, in his opinion) and anything else you thought he needed to know (also a ridiculous amount).

He was impressed most of all, though. No wonder you’d isolated yourself from near the entire student body and stressed over every letter in every sentence in every assignment. You were incredibly intelligent, but you were also able to explain everything in a way that even he understood. Fiyero had never really cared about… well, anything relating to school before he ended up partners with you. 

But now, Fiyero found himself surprisingly entranced by it all. He’d always liked your voice, and he had a permanent smile on his lips watching you talk so easily about your passions. It put a spark in your eye and a brightness about you that was usually bogged down by everything else that you stressed about. 

You were beautiful, especially when you were happy. And Fiyero had discovered over the past week that you were happiest when you got to talk about what you cared about to an interested audience. He only regretted acting like he wasn’t interested for so long. 

Finally, when Fiyero called a break on account of his hands aching (he’d never written this much in his life, and it still was only half of what you did basically every day), and you were eating an apple (that he also brought, because you really didn’t take care of yourself when you were doing work, which was always), he smiled at you. 

“You know, we really do make a good team,” Fiyero said. 

You swallowed the bite of apple you had in your mouth and cocked your head as you looked at him. “You think?” 

“I know,” he nodded. “You’ve done the impossible, darling. You’ve actually made me care about school.” 

“Well, I think you’ve done the impossible too.” You lifted the apple up. “You made me care about my health during midterms season.” 

“It certainly wasn’t easy,” he said wryly. “You kind of took it all kicking and screaming.”

You shrugged. “I’m not top of our class for nothing.” 

“Do you have to stress yourself into misery to be top of the class?” he asked. 

“I’m not miserable,” you retorted. 

It was when you said things like that that Fiyero really began to worry about you. It was part of the reason he was so intent on staying by your side through this whole project—no matter how dull he found the material—after the first session. He sometimes saw you around campus, usually carrying a stack of books or talking with your roommate.

After Fiyero was paired with you, he wondered why he didn’t see you more before it all, considering how active you were with literally everything school-wise. Then he realized you were likely always in the library, and the only time he’d visited the library was on Galinda’s tour. You were there, well enough, but you took your leave as soon as things started getting rowdy. 

A shame, he realized. He wondered what your relationship could have been had Galinda not staked her claim on him so soon. 

You weren’t going to take care of yourself, clearly enough, so Fiyero decided—at least for the duration of this project—that he would. It didn’t really matter if you were top of the class if you passed out from stress, exhaustion, annoyance, or a mix of all three. Likely a mix of all three. 

He didn’t really anticipate those feelings morphing into genuine affection. 

“I seem to recall you saying you dream of your future assignments,” Fiyero said, coming out of his thoughts. “That doesn’t sound like the habit of a happy person.”

“Oh, please,” you scoffed. “Everybody has stress dreams.” 

“You know, I really don’t think they do,” Fiyero said. 

You rolled your eyes as you picked your pen up with your free hand and jotted down a few more sentences. “Sure.”

“On that note,” he said, “why don’t we call it a day?”

“We can’t call it a day,” you said. You took another bite from your apple and swallowed, continuing to write all the while without looking at him. “We’re not finished yet.”

“That is the most casually you’ve said that so far,” Fiyero mused. “I really am making progress.”

You laughed, finally paying him mind. “Progress with what?”

“I’ve been tracking your smiles and laughs this whole time,” he said. “See, this essay was your project, but that was mine—trying to make you enjoy your life.”

“This essay is both of our projects, Fiyero,” you said. “Besides, I don’t think Doctor Dillamond will accept your bar graph of all the times I laughed at you making a fool of yourself.” You frowned. “Or would it be a line graph because it’s over time? Or maybe it could be—”

“Alright,” he interrupted. “You’re going into hypotheticals on my joke. That’s clearly the sign that we need to call it a day.”

“…Fine,” you reneged. “But it’s just a break, not calling it a day. And I get to finish proofreading the rest of the essay when we get back.”

“A compromise,” Fiyero said. “Love it.”

You rolled your eyes as you started gathering your things. “You love everything.” 

“Eh,” he tilted his head, and you felt his eyes on you. “Most things.” 

You couldn’t help your smile, much as you tried to bite it back. “Whatever.” 

Soon enough, you and Fiyero were sitting together by the dock. You let your legs dangle over as you watched the scenery around campus—the ripple of the water, the gentle brush of the wind, the chirping birds that flew around without a care.

“Isn’t this nice?” Fiyero asked. He also had his legs over the edge, but he’d laid down against the stone. 

“You don’t have to push your relaxation propaganda so hard anymore,” you said wryly. “I’m here, aren’t I?” 

“And I’m grateful for it,” he said. “Someone that works as hard as you do deserves to relax the same amount.” 

“We’ve gone over this a thousand times—”

“I know,” he interrupted. He turned his head to smile at you. “I just have to hope that some of it sticks.” 

You rolled your eyes, once again unable to hide your smile. “And I have to hope for the same with this paper. Do you think you’ll remember any of this once we turn it in?”

“Oh, but of course. You were the one to teach it to me, after all. I could hardly forget it all.” 

“Good,” you said. “Everyone should know about Ilara Mayfair.” 

Fiyero chuckled, and you once again fell into comfortable silence. 

That was the thing that shocked you the most, you think. Not that you were beginning to like Fiyero, or that you actually liked Fiyero, or that you actually looked forward to spending time with him. It was that you were so comfortable just sitting with him in silence. 

It was very difficult to get to the silence, though. Fiyero couldn’t really stay quiet, and you didn’t know if he liked talking or the sound of his own voice. But you found it didn’t really annoy you like it used to. 

Great Oz. You really were into him. How embarrassing. 

Eventually, when the strain in your wrists and fingers from writing had finally faded, you turned your head to look at Fiyero. “I think it’s time we go back.”

He sighed. “Already?” 

“It’s been fifteen minutes,” you said. “Far longer than the breaks I usually take.” 

He opened his mouth, likely to say something of the same ‘you need to relax’ ilk, but you held up your hand. “Don’t. Just be thankful you got me away for this long.” 

Fiyero smiled, and he pulled himself up off the ground. “I always am.” 

He held his hand out, and you stared at him for a moment. “Why do you always do that?” 

“Help you up?” 

You nodded. “I can do it myself.” 

He shrugged. “I told you it was my project to make your life easier.” 

“You said it was your project to track my happiness,” you said. 

“And they go hand in hand,” he said. “I’m surprised you remember.” 

“It happened thirty minutes ago, Fiyero,” you said wryly. “Besides, I remember everything. It’s a gift.” 

Fiyero laughed, and you finally took his hand. He pulled you up and once again, you tumbled a bit too close—and again, his hand fell to your waist. He had to be doing this on purpose by now. 

“We keep finding ourselves in this position,” Fiyero mused. 

Heat flooded your cheeks like usual. “And whose fault is that?” 

“Well,” he said, tilting his head, “you’re not exactly pulling away.” 

Your mouth opened, trying to think of what words to say when your head was reeling from his mere presence. But then you saw a flash of pink in the background, and your eyes darted away from Fiyero. 

Galinda. She was distracted, talking with Pfannee and Shenshen as she went down the stairs. Oz, how did she slip your mind so easily whenever Fiyero was in your proximity? Why did you let him get this close when he was spoken for? 

You panicked—nothing less. You tore out of Fiyero’s grasp with a bit too much gumption, and then you stumbled, then you slipped, and then you fell. Fiyero called your name in shock, reaching his hand out, but it was too late. You’d plunged into the water before you could save yourself. 

The cold water instantly shocked all your senses, your eyes widening as you gasped out on instinct. Your mouth filled with water and your muscles seized up from the change in temperature—it was so much deeper than you’d imagined, and all your layers of clothing weighing you down were of no use. 

You tried your damnedest to ignore the alarm bells going off in your head as you fought against yourself, finally gathering the sense to swim. You kicked your way up to the top, gasping for air once when you breached the surface. 

You heard Fiyero yell your name again and you blinked rapidly, trying to clear the water from your eyes. When everything finally came into focus, you saw him on his knees, his coat shed and his sleeves rolled up. 

His eyes were wide as he reached his hand out, once again saying your name—this time with a certain desperation. “Are you alright?”

You tried to respond but all you could do was cough, trying to expel the water from your lungs. You took his hand and he helped pull you up onto the dock, where an exhale shuddered out of you.

“I— I am so sorry,” he stammered. It was the first time you’d ever seen him flustered, and you were too busy hacking up a lung to point it out. “Obviously I didn’t think—”

You held up your hand in lieu of saying something, as you didn’t think you could say something. 

This was so stupid, and it was something that never would have happened before you and Fiyero started working together. Your paper was due in two days, you’d only just finished the draft, you still had so much proofreading and rewriting to do, and instead, you were here on the docks soaked to the bone. 

And you found yourself laughing. 

“Oh, Oz,” Fiyero said. “You’ve lost it.” 

You couldn’t refute it, because you kept laughing. You could feel the eyes of your classmates on you, could hear them whispering to each other—likely making fun of you—and it only made you laugh harder. 

“Are—” Fiyero chuckled nervously as he said your name, “are you okay?” 

“I’m soaked,” you got out through your laughs. “And everyone saw me fall into the water. I’m a fool, Fiyero!” 

He was still staring at you in that careful way, as if you were made of glass. “I can’t tell if you’re mad or not.” 

“Oh, Fiyero.” You wiped the trailing water off of your face and wrapped your arms around him. You felt him freeze beneath you for the slightest moment—it had to have been the last thing he expected you to do. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Fiyero returned the hug, his movements still unsure. He didn’t seem to care that you were getting him wet, just about your wellbeing. “What— what for, exactly?” 

For a moment, you couldn’t look away. His blue eyes were meant to enrapture, his soft lips typically an invitation sealed with a smirk. But for once, Fiyero looked genuine—he wasn’t putting on a performance, or trying to seduce anyone who looked at him. He was genuinely sorry, genuinely confused. It only made you laugh again.

“What for, indeed.” A higher voice pierced through the air, and you separated from Fiyero immediately. Galinda, to no surprise, had found her way over to the chaos you’d created, her compatriots flanking her on either side. She smiled at you brightly, but her whole demeanor was like a violin string pulled taut. 

“Galinda,” Fiyero said. “Lovely to see you.” He didn’t seem half as shocked as you at her appearance, but his words fell flat. 

“And you as well, dearest.” Her smile turned sickly sweet as she shifted her attention to Fiyero momentarily, taking the opportunity to lace her fingers with his and pull him into a kiss. He pulled away first, but if it affected Galinda, she didn’t let it show when she looked back at you. She batted her eyelashes as she said your name incorrectly. “What was it you were saying?” 

The sudden combination of cottonmouth and sour guilt creeping up your throat didn’t really help your already flustered state. She knew what she was doing—but you did too, didn’t you? 

She was with Fiyero. You knew that. And though Fiyero danced across the line, you took his hand every time he offered. 

“I—” you cleared your throat, attempting a casual smile of your own. “Just that I know why Doctor Dillamond put us together.”

“Excellent,” Fiyero said. “Off-topic, but excellent— are you sure you didn’t hit your head down there?” 

“Perhaps you should go to the nurse,” Galinda said. “I’m sure Shenshen could—” 

“I’ll be fine,” you interrupted, your smile tightening ever so slightly. You looked at Fiyero. “Meet me at the library tonight, and bring coffee. We’re finishing this project tonight. 

“Of course,” he nodded.  

You nodded as well, and you started to go. Galinda’s gaze was sugary sweet poison, and you couldn’t take the weight of it anymore. 

“Wait,” Fiyero spoke up. 

You stopped against your better judgment, and he let go of Galinda’s hand to take his jacket off. He moved closer to you and wrapped it around you. His touch, light but certain, lingered on your shoulders once he’d finished adjusting it, and his gaze stayed on yours 

“Until you can change,” he said. 

“...Thank you,” you said. 

Galinda cleared her throat extremely loudly, her taut smile back. You remembered yourself and stepped away from Fiyero. 

“I’ll see you tonight,” you said, already starting on your way. You wouldn’t let him stop you again. 

“Tonight,” he agreed, bowing his head in parting. 

You only glanced back once you were by the stairs. When you did, you saw Galinda speaking rapidly to Fiyero—you were too far away to hear anything, but she didn’t look happy. When your gaze drifted to him, you found he was already looking at you. Almost subconsciously, you tugged his jacket tighter around you. When you realized what you were doing, you stopped. You averted your eyes immediately and hurried up the stairs. 

You weren’t out of breath from exertion. 

[remxedmoon]

(You don’t know how much longer you can do this.)

hi the wip for this was absolutely not supposed to blow up. why does that have 1k notes. horrifying. anyways!!!! it’s update time baby!!!! 64 new assets this time around!

so that’s what the caption was supposed to be. this update was already pretty damn big and took a ton of time to make!!! and i was finally done!! but then my hand slipped and now we’re at 143 new assets. super sorry for the delay! That Was Not Supposed To Happen.

i’ll go more indepth below the cut, but this update encompasses all menu/profile art for both isat and sasasaap, battle portraits for sasasaap, every single pixel icon in isat (to my knowledge anyways), the dialogue skipping animations, and a few miscellaneous additions.

also i spent too much time on these to put them below the cut so Please God Look At My Icon Resprites I Spent 16 Hours On Them. enjoy!

okay first things first. why the hell is this batch 143 assets. so. i HEAVILY underestimated how many times the menu drawings are used in the games. even removing all of the custom art, it’s still ≈30-40 variations! that’s a lot! and once i finally finished everything, i got Posting Anxiety and somehow convinced myself that attempting Animation And Pixel Art (two things i haven’t done in YEARS) would be easier than writing a normal post. so here we are.

the custom art here is pretty much par for the course at this point. extra menu art for bonnie, extra expressions for the party in act 5, we’ve done this enough times that it’s expected. i am aware that bonnie’s custom menu art gets completely covered by the ui. i kept it in because it’s really funny (and also i didn’t feel like extending the sprite (but then the sasasaap version forced me to extend the sprite anyways so Whartever)).

once again, provided a spritesheet for sasasaap’s battle portraits! i do intend to cover both games, it’s just a slightly lower priority atm. unlike isat though, i’ve got Less (read “No”) experience with sasasaap, so there might be more issues with those assets?? apologies if there are, i’ll try to fix any issues that come up!

the Miscellaneous Additions i mentioned above are the sprites used on the teleport map and the loading screen, which is just a tiny version of the skipping animation. they were pretty small, so i figured i might as well get them out of the way!

not actually much to say about the 75 icons surprisingly! i haven’t done pixel art in about 5 years?? and that’s a Travesty actually these were super fun to make. i did make mockups for the overworld sprites earlier, but they aren’t Officially part of the redraws (yet) so they’re getting posted seperately

and also!! some exciting news!! this project might actually become a Proper Published Mod pretty soon!! i’ve been in contact with someone who’s willing to help me get everything set up, and i’ll be getting a Usable Computer around the end of the year!!!! it’ll still be at least a month before it’s up (i’d like to get the enemy art finished beforehand wauaua) but!!! still exciting!

okay, i think that’s everything relevant to the update!! i Definitely can’t fit all of the relevant assets here lol. but i’ll try my best ! please enjoy !!

[artdcnaldson]

ugh "leverage" to ensure she won't go tattling to patrick. especially as he starts getting meaner and meaner, he tells her it's to make sure she doesn't back out and tell on him. because patrick would genuinely kill art if he knew what he's been doing to his baby sister.

i know it doesn't really fit in the canon of the other parts to this au, but hear me out anyway... what if he agreed to fuck her, properly this time, in her sweet little pussy. BUT he needs said leverage to make sure she keeps quiet about it (truly he just needs to immortalize taking her virginity so he can watch it back for the rest of his life). so he "agrees", he's the one to bring it up lol, on the condition that he can record it. y'know like really shitty, amateur, pov style, on her creaky dorm bed and pink, frilly sheets. shaky and grainy, but it's good enough for him. it's not like he would ever actually post it anywhere or show people, but she doesn't know that.

he gets off on how nervous she is when he points the camera at her, she's blushing and trying to hide her face. but he just slaps her cheek and manhandles her to look right down the lens of his shitty phone camera. tells her to moan louder around his big cock, tell the camera how good he feels, really just stroking his own ego. makes her tell the camera exactly how he's making her feel, can't cum unless she asks into the camera. he nearly cums right inside her when she tells him he's too big and it hurts :(((((

yummy yummy yummy

-🐞

OHHHHHHH <3 I had to let this simmer. This had to ruminate. Had to really let it sit and grow legs or whatever wine people say idk

RATING: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, degradation, making a sex tape, loss of virginity, world’s worst aftercare), mean!art as always, uncomfortable power dynamics, DUBCON due to coercion

He catches you leaving one of your classes, chatting happily with a few girls as you walk. Their eyes widen as he approaches, smacking his gum, looming tall over them. You murmur a quick apology and bound over like an obedient little pet, falling into stride beside him as he walks.

“What class is that?” He asks, nodding back towards the building. Most of the time he forgot you even attended the school beyond cheering at his games and floating around his dormitory like a ghost.

“Peoples and cultures,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s an anthropology course I’m taking. It’s actually really interesting, like, these past few lectures have been—“

“What are you doing tonight?” He interrupts, not really caring beyond the simple answer to his question. He has a one track mind, and for the moment he’s just thinking about getting in your pants.

He watches you think, then shrug. “Um… nothing, I guess? Why?”

Art stops by a tree suddenly, tugs you by your wrist to stop with him. “Do you promise if we fuck you won’t tell Patrick?” He watches as your eyes widen, as sheer need and excitement makes you practically vibrate out of your skin.

Frantically you nod. “I’d never tell Patrick, I’d take it to my grave, I swear,” you say, totally earnest, bouncing on the balls of your feet as he looks at you.

“God, I want you so bad,” he hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear. You melt beneath his touch, gaze all half-lidded and soft. “I just… I think I’d have to have some leverage, just to make sure no one ever finds out.”

You tilt your face, resting it on his hand, your eyes half-lidded and dazed with need. You hum a soft, “Mhmm,” without even knowing what he’s implying, what he’s asking of you. But he hears what you’re thinking, all dumbed down and needy— yes, Art, whatever you say Art, anything you want, Art.

He wants to do it in your room, that night. He walks you back to your dorm and tells you to get your roommate out, make sure she’s busy for however long you need. He’d text you when he’s on his way.

So you’re just… fucking vibrating with excitement, cleaning up your dorm, changing your sheets, fluffing your pillows. You light three warm vanilla sugar candles so the dorm smells nice and sweet, put on your roommate’s SEXXXMIXXX <3 CD that she had burned in High School (and kept your fingers crossed it was still relevant). You took the longest fucking shower of all time, scrubbed your skin until it stung, shaved you’re entire body, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t like bald pussy, then worried that he’d hate if you kept the hair even more. Moisturized, then put on pretty, light makeup— lipgloss, mascara. All in the span of time it took for him to text you.

Art :) <3

omw

You feel a little dizzy by the time he’s at your door, already wet just anticipating what you were about to do. He grins down at you, at your silky little pajama set, pink and lacy around the edges. Smacks his gum, trails his hand along the sides of your waist.

“Pretty.” He looks smug as he rubs the lace between his fingers. “You got all dressed up for me, huh?”

It’s amazing how timid and shy you can look as you stand in front of him, biting onto your lip as you nod. He shuts the door behind him and guides you backwards until you knock against your bed and laugh nervously. Jesus, he’d already fucked your ass, your throat, he’d done things to you that even the dirtiest fucking sluts on campus wouldn’t dream of allowing. But you’re all shy because he’s finally going to fuck you properly?

You gasp as he tugs down the neckline of your top, exposing your tits to the cool air of the dorm. So cute, soft. Your nipples already hard and sensitive, so just the lightest pinch makes you let out a pretty moan.

“Remember what I said about leverage?” Art says, and you nod slowly, dreamily. “I want to film it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, as you think back to the pictures he’d taken of you just a few weeks prior. “And you’d… what? Like post it if Pat finds out?”

“No, no, only if you tell,” he corrects. Even then… he doubted he’d actually ever post it anywhere. He had a tennis career to consider, after all. But the important thing was that you believe he will. “It’s just to make sure this stays our secret.”

You swallow, consider it. You didn’t plan on telling Patrick, so it was fine, right? He’d hate Art, and you didn’t want that. You would never want that, no matter what.

So you nod softly. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’d… yeah, I understand. Okay.”

God, you’re easy. So fucking easy it makes him a little sick to think about. What if he wasn’t Patrick’s friend, if he was some frat house asshole who would take advantage of how bad you wanted him? You’re so lucky he’s a good person.

He uses your own fucking digital camera— pink and decorated with little heart stickers. Turns it on and records you as you slip off your sweet silky pajamas, revealing soft, smooth skin beneath. You’re so shaky, so nervous. You can’t even look into the lens.

“No panties?” He asks, lips quirked into a grin. He steps forward to slip his hand between your thighs, to cup your pussy in one big hand. God, you’re so fucking wet, just like you usually are. He could just slide right in without any resistance, just bury himself right inside that tight little pussy. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess, just dripping for it, aren’t you?”

You moan, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. Art never touched you, not to get you off, at least. So the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your cunt makes you whine. He breaches your entrance with just a fingertip and grins at the feeling of you clenching around the intrusion, desperate for anything he’ll give you.

But the relief is gone as soon as you’ve gotten it. He pats your thigh, nods to the bed. “Go lay down. Let me film you stretching yourself out for me.”

“Art,” you whine once you’ve laid down, embarrassed as he trains the lens on you. “Do you have to film this part?”

It just makes him double down, grinning smugly as he settles at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, just fucking do it. Show the camera how fucking wet you get for me.” You hear the whir of him zooming in as your hand slips between your thighs, as lithe fingers slide through your soaking wet folds and you tease your clit. He groans softly, grinning at the sight on the camera. “Alright, spread yourself out now. Show me how small and tight you are.”

You whimper pathetically, but obey. Your fingers form a V as you spread your lips, revealing the pretty, drippy hole of your cunt. He doesn’t even have to tell you to start fucking yourself, you just do. Pretty, manicured fingers disappearing inside the tight channel of your pussy, slow and easy as you pant and gasp sweetly.

“Can you do three?” He asks. He zooms the camera out, makes sure he gets all of you— your tits heaving with each breath, the slow grind of your hips to meet your fingers. You nod softly, press a third finger alongside the other two. He grins at the sight of the stretch of your cunt around them, how your body works to accommodate them. “God, it’s a tight stretch, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You moan as you pump your fingers slow, in and out. Wet to the point of it sounding obscene. Slick dripping out with each thrust, making your fingers glisten.

He can hardly take sitting there and watching, but god, he’d love it later on when he was alone with only the video to keep him company. But who knows? Maybe he’d fuck you once and never want anyone else. He already felt that way… kind of. You were so eager, so obsessed with him. You touched him like it was an act of worship. He couldn’t get that from easy pussy.

He sets the camera down on the foot of the bed while he undresses, tugging off his sweats and tee shirt, mussing up his hair in the process. It’s not lost on him, the way your fingers speed up at the sight of his cock, how needy and desperate you are.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he picks up the camera.

God, he’s mean. You whine when he grabs your wrist and makes you slip your fingers from inside of your cunt. Empty, needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me, Art.” You’re embarrassed, of course you are. He has a camera focused on your needy little expression, one hand on your thigh all warm and possessive. “Please, I’ve been so good for you. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I just need you, I need you inside of me. Want you to be my first. Please, Art.”

He’s not sure where he wants the camera as he notches the head of his cock at your wet little hole. Part of him wants to film the second he buries his cock inside of that tight fucking cunt, but the other wants to film your face, watch how pretty you look as you take your very first cock.

And god, you’re trembling beneath him. Visibly shaking with anticipation, or nerves, or need. He runs a hand along your torso, cups one of your tits in his hands and thumbs over your sensitive nipple. “What, are you cold?” He teases.

“N-no,” you stammer, meeting his gaze. “Just— I just want it so bad.”

He films your face, which was the right call, he decides. He has to think about it technically, or he’ll risk blowing his load one pump in, like a total fucking loser. You’re so tight around him, clamping down on his cock as he sheaths himself within you, inch after inch. And god, that angelic face of yours— mouth agape, wet and pink and pretty, the tiniest furrow between your brows, lashes splayed against your cheeks as you moan, soft and sweet. “Hurts,” you practically whimper. “God, Art, fuck, it feels—“

He films where your cunt swallows him, stretched to the point of obscenity around his thick cock. It shouldn’t even be able to take him, not when you’re so small, so fucking tight. It’s a fucking miracle you’d even taken a toy before. He’d make you film that next. All desperate, fucking yourself on silicon while you drooled over a picture of him. It was sweet that you’d been trying to prepare yourself to take him and you were still a shaking, needy mess.

Tears well in your eyes as he thumbs at your swollen little clit, he feels your pussy clench around him, already so fucking keyed up. He should be good. He should make love to you, nice and slow, like a good boy. He’s starting to think he’s not a good boy, not at all. “Just lay there and take it, yeah? Just look nice and pretty for the camera.”

You cry out when he pulls back only to drive back in, hard and deep. His pace is relentless as he fucks into your cunt— warm and wet and tight and fucking perfect. He honestly shouldn’t have waited, he should’ve fucked you the first night you offered yourself up to him— sweet and needy and clinging off his shoulder like you were his girlfriend.

“A-Art, fuck—“ You cry out, fisting your pretty hands into the frilly duvet, as he bullies himself into you. “Oh, god, fuck, A-Art, it’s too much— I-I can’t—“ A strangled moan seems to rip itself from your throat as your head falls back against the pillows.

He grins. “Yeah? Don’t tell me, honey, tell the camera.”

You whine, turning your head away as embarrassment rips through you. It’s mean, keeping it trained on you while you’re so fucking vulnerable. He grabs your chin, holds it in place as he fucks into you, deeper, rougher. It punches out gasps from your pretty open mouth— Ah! Ah! Ah! Over and over and over.

He pops your cheek, not too hard, but enough to draw your attention back from him and away from your dizzying thoughts. “Tell the camera how good it feels to have my big cock in that little pussy of yours, yeah?

“It feels— ngh— I love it,” you have pretty fat tears slipping down your cheeks as he drills into you. “You’re so big, I— God, fuck— I feel you in my stomach. Here—“ You grab his hand, move it to press against the bottom of your stomach. He can’t feel anything, not except warm skin beneath his, but he groans at your words, at the implication that he’s so deep he’s in your fucking guts.

He has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood. He knows he’s going to cum, knows that he’s not going to last or show off epic, manly stamina and impress you. Not that you give a shit, but he wants to set a standard for whatever fucking loser you fuck next. He’d have next time, and as many other times as he wanted. You’d keep coming back for it, for him.

He struggles to manhandle you the way he needs while holding onto the camera. He tosses it into the sheets so he can press your knees up to your chest. “Hold them— yeah, that’s it, fuck— feels good.” You’re so obedient, holding your legs up for him so he can get deeper. Your eyes roll back, flutter shut. He fumbles to grab the camera, to immortalize you like this.

Your cunt squeezes around him, makes his rhythm falter as he struggles to fend off his orgasm. God, he just wants to bury himself deep and rut into you, to cum deep and hard, leave you dripping with him. It’s about him… but it’s about you too. He’d be good, he’d make you cum.

“Tell me how bad you need to cum. Fucking beg me for it,” He groans, rubbing at your clit with a calloused thumb.

You whine, squeezing around his cock as he draws you closer and closer. “Need it, Art. It feels so good— you’re so fucking perfect, feel so perfect inside of me. Wanna cum for you, around your cock, wanna show you how good you feel. Please, please, god, I want it, I want to feel it, Art. Want you to cum inside of me, need it so bad— I fucking dream about it, about you. You’re so much better, you’re everything I want, Art, fucking claim me. I want you to.”

Art wanted to pull out. He did. He was going to glaze your pussy with his cum, get it on video, swipe his fingers through it and make you taste it. But Jesus Christ, you fucking ruined that idea. He cums suddenly, practically collapses on top of you as he fucks into your cunt, spilling himself deep inside of you. And like the perfect fucking toy you are, you cum too, milking him for all he’s worth, walls clenching down around his cock as he lazily ruts into you.

He pants, stays buried inside of you as he tries to catch his breath. He’d never cum inside someone before— he was too afraid of knocking someone up. He’d always had the self control to pull out, but he lost himself in fucking you, in the tight grip of your pussy around him. Christ, that was bad.

When he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum follows, pearly white, dripping down your ass and to the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, you’ve tugged a blanket over yourself shyly. Looking so demure, so sweet, batting your lashes up at him expectantly.

The camera lays dropped and forgotten on the bed, he goes and presses the stop button on the camera and you grab at his arm. “Do you want to stay the night?” You ask with a shy bite of your lip. “I told Izzy to fuck off, so she’s with her girlfriend. We’ve got the dorm for the night, so you can stay.”

Art makes a face akin to annoyance as he redresses, tugging on his boxers and sweats. His shirt is somewhere… he can’t focus. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen, you swallow as heat floods your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, I know,” you stammer. “I just thought…”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t do that, then. This is just about fucking.

Art watches the sad little nod, the tiniest twitch of your nose as you fight the rush of tears to your eyes. “I know that, Art,” you say sadly, and you’re trembling again. “I just wish you’d stay for a bit. I’m… I feel a lot right now. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this before I just want—“

“What do you want? A hug, a kiss?” He watches you sniffle sadly, nod and mutter a watery, yeah. He sighs, stops searching for his shirt, and pulls you against his chest. You feel so warm, so vulnerable as you shake and cry hot tears against his chest. He frowns, pulls back, and presses his lips to yours, quick and chaste. “I’m not doing this again if you keep acting like this.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay, I know, I won’t do it again.” He kisses the crown of your head. Grabs a random shirt from the top of your laundry basket, grabs the camera, and heads for the door. You watch him leave with a pouty, wobbly little frown and get up to redress. You find his Stanford Tennis shirt partly beneath your bed and pull it on. It’s big, fits you like a hug, smells so boyish and warm. You lay back down on the bed he just fucked you on and breathe deep, let his smell flood your senses. It feels a little like being wanted.

AURRRRR this was so much longer than I thot <3

Anyways. Love pat’s sister au, feel free to send me any asks you want about these messy bitches <3

🐞 anon i love u

[slipperzipper]

Heimdall x f!Reader (Smut!)

| Pairing: Heimdall x Reader

| Contents: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! Sex pollen, Masturbation, Grinding, afab reader, p in v, creampie, rough sex, and orgasms, let me know if I need to add other things to this as well!

| wrds: 3.2k

| Disclaimer!: Massive warning for those who do not like sexual content because this oneshot contains smut smut smut! minor Grammar and Spelling mistakes so apologies, Kind of weird start. also does anyone else still like heimdall? I know its been a year since I initially posted my first oneshot of this asshole. I'm deciding to repost this on tumblr since I know some people still like this man lol

“I’m pretty sure a legless donkey could move faster than you.” 

Heimdall’s voice called out, the two of you had been walking through the wild jungles of Vanaheim. So far, if it had not been for Heimdall’s insults and petty comments, it was going well. The flora constantly grabbing at your ankles and causing you to stumble slightly each time you continued or turned into a new direction, but that was the least of your worries. 

The reason why you were in Vanaheim in the first place was for the All-father, or Odin for short. 

According to Odin, there was a lost relic in Vanaheim that he desired desperately. Apparently so desperately that he forced Heimdall to bring you with him for extra help. Unfortunately you couldn’t exactly say no since you wanted to look good in front of the All-father, accepting the offer with a feigned smile. You were his guest afterall.

“I’d move faster if it wasn’t for your constant insults!” You laughed, you were a couple dozen feet behind him, he just had to lead the way since you were ‘too incompetent’ to do so. Your eyes seemed to be lost in the environment, its natural beauty and color was just a sight to behold.

You were almost jealous of the Vanir that they get to live in such a beautiful realm, but you were soon kicked out of your thoughts as the sound of the golden god yelping hit your ears. That caused you to walk a bit faster, before turning into a jog, then into a sprint in order to find him. You knew he couldn’t be hurt by a person or animal, but plant life? Can’t exactly read a plant’s mind if there’s no mind to read. Even when Heimdall was a dick, you knew Odin wouldn’t exactly be happy if his most loyal son died to some miniscule threat.

But that isn’t what you saw when you found him. There was a small red-pink plant next to him releasing a dusty spore, his arm covering his eyes before backing up and falling on his backside. You grabbed him from under his shoulders and dragged him out, his grumbles consisted of the plant and how he hadn’t needed the help.

“Heimdall! Are you okay?” You asked, your hands propping on your knees as you looked down on him. He groaned at this strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “Yes- yes I am fine.” Heimdall reassured before pushing himself up to stand, trembling slightly but ultimately walking it off.

Why was he acting like this? He was being complacent and hadn’t insulted you yet for asking if he was okay. This was out of character for him, even his tone was out of character, and you hadn’t failed to notice. “Heimdall, are you actually okay?” Your voice asked again right as you walked in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Yes, Of course I am fine.” Heimdall’s voice shook a little, catching you off guard since his dialect indicates that he’s the biggest and best bitch in the world. “Are you sure ?” You ask yet again, he brushed off the comment before continuing. 

“We must find Gulltoppr before we return to Asgard-” Heimdall’s voice trembled worse as he stumbled towards a tree. His hand gripped into the tree's vines as a way to capture himself from completely falling. A strangled grunt rippled through the air and made you stop in your steps towards the god. 

He sank to his knees while he had a full body reaction to the sensations around him. Heimdall was feeling all sorts of sensitive, even when he had moved his hands to catch himself, they were all tingly. 

When he heard your muddled voice call out to him for the umpteenth time, his heart skipped a beat when his brain processed your sweet words. Heimdall! What’s happening to you- Answer me! Your hands grabbed at his tunic and turned him around to see a sight to truly behold:

The Scion of the Aesir was sitting on his knees, in such a seductive and submissive pose that rattled your brain. His usual cockiness was wiped from his face and was instead replaced with bright red blush and with quite the pleading pout settling on his lip. His hands now finding purchase on gripping your clothes, his knuckles turning white from how hard he was grabbing. 

“H-Hey man, can you stand-” How he hated how your voice sounded. How it sounded like it was coated in the sweetest honey in of all the nine realms, he was easily entranced by it. From your point of view he looked hypnotized, absolutely lost in something.

He groaned when he felt the back of your hand touch his forehead, checking if he was possibly burning up from the plant’s spores. You weren’t technically wrong with that assumption because his entire body was emanating warmth, you could easily feel it when you planted your hands on his shoulders after he let out that little noise. 

“(Y/N).. please I-” He cut himself off with a pant and a down turned head tilt. “I need you.” 

He knew he would have some form of regret after this if he were rejected, whether that in your head that he was a little submissive slut or that he was so weak he got caught off guard by a plant of all things. He didn’t exactly appreciate the circumstances that led up to him on his knees. But he would soon know what you thought of this situation anyway. 

He brought his head back up to stare directly into your eyes, his bright purple ones held lust and need with parted lips. Speaking of his lips, they seemed a little bit more plump than what they normally were. You hated the fact that you knew exactly how his lips looked, from the quick snags you got when he wasn’t looking that you didn’t think much of until now. 

Shit! You just remembered he could probably read your thoughts right now. You got your answer when his lips tugged into a small crinkled-eyed smile before bringing you down by the grip he had on your clothes. His arms sliding around you to bring you into a tight hug when his mouth planted itself next to your ear.

“Please- Can I- Please may I have you?” His voice tickled your senses and caused shivers to go down your spine. It was just so desperate that you felt like you couldn’t say no. He moved himself from the side of your head only to look into your eyes again, just to read what little thoughts you had. Hues of colors were all he could see at the moment before the thought of him actually letting him have you in a jungle of all places, it was absolutely strange to you. But the look on your face told a different story. 

You would be a liar if you hadn’t at least one thought about what he looked like under all those layers, and that was all Heimdall needed to know before his hands found themselves hugging your hips instead. 

Forcing your body to grind down onto his newfound bulge. A moan erupted from his lips at the new found sensation adding onto his sensitivity. “Fu-Fuck..” Heimdall cursed while he continued to rub your clothed sex against him. The grip on your hips were harsh and it was like he was clinging for dear life, they were definitely going to bruise tomorrow.

“H-Heimdall!” You whimpered out when he grinded particularly too hard, the noise sounding like a siren calling sailors to shore. It was such a hypnotizing sound that he never wanted to stop hearing. The tingly sensation from the mutual rubbing was ever present in making his dick even harder.

“Heimdall!” You cried out his name once more. This time it actually captured his attention instead of adding to his sexual experience. He stilled his ministrations before retraining his eyes back onto yours, only to find them averted as he so desperately tried to read your thoughts.

“Are you sure of this? In the middle of a jungle..?” You barely whispered, but with his enhanced sense he could hear it as clear as day. He was reminded of his body’s blessing and curse that came from the plant’s spore when his body had moved against you by accident, a pathetic whimper erupted from the Herald of Ragnarok.

 

Your lips tugged into a small smile, you moved yourself against him just to tease him. Your shyness earlier muffled when Heimdall grinded against you once more, his lip quivering slightly as his gruff hands desperately grabbed and released your hips repeatedly. 

“Gah-! (Y/N)!” Heimdall cried out as his eyelids fluttered, his body jerking and his clothed pelvis flushing against yours. Forcing you to grind against him once more. He had panted heavily now, making you realize that he came in his pants. 

Your eyes widened when that piece of information dawned on you, you made the golden god himself come in his pants! You knew Heimdall wasn’t himself right now. He was high off his mind and you just made him come in his pants. Even when he technically consented, it still felt wrong. 

“Heimdall- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-” You started to apologize before a weak hand planted itself on your mouth. “Just- Just stop talking.” The aforementioned god spoke with a harsh tone, you would lie to yourself if you said you didn’t feel a little hurt at his words. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, you actually did quite the opposite.” His voice hinted. He brought his pelvis back to flush against your sex, you could feel your own wetness against him. You could feel him and how hard he was once more. He was hard again already?! 

“Yes. Yes I am.” Heimdall scoffed when he read your mind before a groan had caught him to keep him in check, how he was the one who was affected rather than you who was just as ruined as him but from natural causes. “You don’t mind helping me out, do you ?” He coyly asked with a head tilt just to further tease you. 

Heimdall had scooted you off of his lap so that he could stand and release the ache in his pants. Unfastening his belt and letting both his kilt and his pants hit the ground.You could only watch with a glimmer of shock, awe, and lust as his belt piles with the other clothes.  His cock was dripped in his own come, standing at attention with an angry red tip. He was also nicely trimmed and looked groomed, showing how well-kept he was. “After all, you did cause this.” Heimdall putting the blame on you was such an absurd claim, yet you couldn’t help but agree.

Heimdall couldn’t help but sigh when he did show himself, he felt so much better after letting his pants drop. But he also wouldn’t lie to himself when he thought about what you looked like underneath all those layers you wear. Coming back to you (who was still on the ground), he had grabbed the waistband of your pants, along with your undergarments, before pushing them to your ankles. Your lower half is on full display without any distractions.

It left him breathless, to actually see you. He soon shoved your upper half joined your legs on the ground, the harsh ground being familiar to you from the times when you sparred with the man. 

His fingers ran themselves through your folds, catching you off guard, causing you to squeak in surprise. You were wet, undeniably so, and Heimdall liked that. Your legs tried to crumple together but Heimdall prevented that with his polished hands 

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, You really thought?” He panted out while he scooted close to you, basically hovering over you. You hadn’t really noticed until now but the atmosphere of Vanaheim really made Heimdall’s appearance glow, he was truly handsome. 

He felt particularly nice in his sexual suffering for some odd reason, his fingers feeling your pussy up in ways that you liked. You cried out when he swiped small circles on your clit, holy Hel, the touches were electrifying. It wasn’t long before Heimdall lined himself up with your hole. Giving you one last look, one of pent up lust and desire and need. His cheeks are a bright red color that paired so well with his fuschia eyes. He slipped himself in.

The warm feeling of your cunt caused him to loudly whine. Even when it was just the tip, it was just the most perfect sensation. It was like a drug implemented in his veins and he couldn’t get enough of it. Lifting your legs so that they would be planted on his shoulders as he drew himself closer, helplessly hung there while he drove his cock into you slowly.

You couldn’t help but whimper and grip the ground, the dirt digging into your nails, below as he inched himself in further and further. He eventually bottomed out, his pelvis meeting yours in a lustful stance. He had just sat there, letting you feel used to his size, it was nice of him to do so in this state when you originally thought he would just fuck into your un-prepared cunt.

But that was soon the reality when he brought his hips back and then slammed into your walls again. A howl crawled out of you when Heimdall repeated his action. Then the harsh repetition began. The pain soon washed away as your body started to get used to it. Your velvety colored walls were gripping him like a vice, and he couldn’t be any more happier. His cock fitting into your body like the perfect puzzle piece, as if you were made to be fucked by him.

Heimdall was thankful for that plant now, rather than being annoyed like he was previously, he was now glad that he could fuck your pussy into oblivion.

You couldn’t help the babbling noises of pleasure that escaped and obscured the natural sounds of Vanaheim’s jungles and you absolutely hoped that no one else was strolling nearby. You’d probably die from embarrassment if someone did, but that didn’t seem to matter at all as Heimdall slammed into you. 

He knew he was going to come. He knew you were too based on your thoughts on how you could barely hang on when he kept hitting that part inside you that made you see stars. His nails digging into your skin in small crescents, if he had dug any further he would have definitely drawn blood.

A few more harsh thrusts and you were done, your pussy contracting around his cock as you came. A loud mewl echoed through Vanaheim. Shortly after, you felt his hot load stain your body, a warm feeling spreading from inside.  

Heimdall’s hips jerked while he trudged through, trying to get the most out of his intense orgasm. Pressing himself as deep as he could from this angle, spilling his cum into you. The god was staring into your eyes the whole time, it was like an explosion that entered your mind. It was an array of bright colors that he had the fortune to see. His thighs trembled dangerously as he caressed yours. 

You couldn’t help but be breathless. You haven’t had an orgasm like that since.. You couldn’t even remember. Your thighs shook with intensity even after he fucked you through your orgasm. Heimdall withdrew from your pussy with a disgusting squelching sound and sighed heavenly.   

But that wasn’t it. He wasn’t done and he quickly recovered and developed a boner in the matter of moments even after the previous two, how the Hel was the plant’s spore still taking effect?! 

“One more, please , just one more.”

Heimdall spoke while a hand reached your face, grasping it uncharacteristically gently, and had your cunt gripping at nothing. You nodded wordlessly before being caught off guard by being flipped to your hands and knees, your ass presenting just for the God of Foresight to behold. 

Behold he did, his hands now moving your pussy to see the absolute mess he had made. He could feel his balls aching in preparation of stuffing your slit once more. Your head tilted at its side, somewhat being able to see what was behind you, only to be pushed down with a harsh shove and his dick slamming into your hole. 

A whorish mewl was drawn out. Loving how full you felt, you pressed your ass against his hips. Bottoming out once more before slamming his dick back in. The wet sounds of sex rung through your fucked mind. Your thighs slapped against Heimdall’s, he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more while your plush thighs rippled with each clap. You could barely think now, only processing the big cock inside your now abused cunt sliding back and forth at a pace you couldn’t fathom. You could only drool, rest your head on your hands, and wait to come for the second time. You did, you shook as it took place.

As your orgasm continued, you realized Heimdall was still going. 

You felt your clit get touched and you instinctively hissed, you were feeling just as oversensitive as Heimdall. The only difference being that he was powering through it, you felt like you were about to scream. 

"Just endure. You can give me one more just like you’re giving me mine.” Heimdall reassured, swiping your clit in a softer, less lustrous and more kinder than before hand, and you couldn’t help but let out a choked whine. 

He knew you came again when you convulsed and sunk slowly again. He looked into your eyes again and saw the previous show from before but it was just a bit dimmer and blunt, and he couldn’t help but enjoy it even more.  Heimdall came once more inside, quickly placing you into a mating press, the ground below you dirtying your arms and knees. The hot feeling adding onto the sexual experience. He stilled while his come squirted for the third time this session and he wouldn’t lie if this wasn’t one of the greatest times he’s fucked before.

After waiting some time, He pulled out. Watching the slimy line of his own jizz disconnect from the tunnel of shared seed mixing together, but seeing some of it drip down onto the ground prompted him to slide his fingers inside, shoving it back in farther just for you to savor it. You gave a weak whine at the action, but it's not like you can do anything about it. 

“I’ll call for Gulltoppr, just- stay here.” Heimdall stated, just beforehand he had helped you back into your pants and sat you against the very tree he fell upon. Strands of your hair sprawled from your hairline, he brushed some of said strands past and back into your hair to make it look more presentable. He himself was in his own clothes as he stood

He soon took off to look for his beloved pet, you couldn’t help but notice the stumble he had every few steps.

[noemilivv]

Hello! how is it going? I’m so happy to see your requests are back open and that you also write for Helluva Boss now, so I wanted to request something for that! One of my favorite works of yours are the Hazbin Hotel things of reader finding the characters crying and comforting them, so I was thinking I’d love to request the same thing but for Helluva Boss characters. Maybe Blitzø, Stolas, Fizz and Moxxie x gn reader (either platonic or romantic is fine) where reader find them crying and comforts them? ❤️

also sorry if I messed up my english, it’s not my first language :)

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬, 𝐦𝐨𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

a/n: MY FIRST HELLUVA REQUEST LETS GOOO. my first few requests for helluva might be a bit ooc due to the fact that i’m much more of a hazbin girly lol. i literally almost started crying writing blitzø’s part so PLSPLSPLSPLS enjoy that one esp 😋 i think this is one of the longest things i’ve ever wrote tbh LOL but okay enough of my yapping, enjoy

warnings: possible angst(?), platonic!moxxie, profanity, mentions of sex in blitzø and fizzarolli’s part, use of yn in moxxie’s part, ooc writing in all 4 parts😭

proofread: yessir 😎

tags: helluva boss, stolas, fanfic, blitzø, moxxie, fizzarolli, hb, x reader

𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐳ø

…always felt so trapped, despite the fact that maybe, just maybe, it was because of his own doing. and deep down, he knew that, whether he said it aloud or not.

he never thought the voices in his head could sound so real, he never thought his closest loved ones could seem so far, he never thought that his spirits could be so low, especially when those around him thought that they were so high.

when his daughter, his precious, his world, slammed her bedroom door in his face before screaming, “i fucking hate you!” against the clash of things being thrown from the other side of the door, he couldn’t stop his eyes from filling with tears.

blitzø didn’t know what in all of hell was up with him today, something mentally, that’s for sure.

he couldn’t help but feel a curl in his stomach watching millie and moxxie be all lovey throughout their shared shift, and not a good kind of ‘curl’, he couldn’t scroll through sinsta for three minutes without seeing a verosika-related post, either by her, or one of her sex deprived fans, and he had just gotten home from a meeting with stolas for their…monthly activities — and he couldn’t help but feeling like a shit boyfriend to the one he loved most, and fuck, even his loonie is mad at him now too??

the imp sluggishly moved across to the other side of his apartment and slumped onto the couch, his face being taken in by the warmth of the rough pillow, with his phone in his hands, he felt it vibrate.

if he got lucky, it might be an apology call from loona, as she was probably already out bitching with her friends at those stupid hound parties, thanks to vortex.

but no, it was a call, from you, normally he loved your late night conversations you both had with one another, but tonight? eh… it really wasn’t the time.

he stared at his screen for a moment, his eyes fixating on your contact info, the name displaying ‘babe’ with a red heart emoji, and the picture was a selfie you guys took together.

in the miniature version of the photo, it showed blitzø in a band t-shirt, sticking his tongue out with a ‘v’ to his lips, as you grinned at the camera, as you cuddled into his horns, it was the morning after your first time together, your bed head looked adorable, it could kill him.

he sighed softly, before pressing the ‘call’ button, putting the phone to his ear. “hey, babe!” you spoke from the other side, your voice slightly muffled from the quality of the mic in your phone.

that alone caused him to start sobbing all over again, ‘fuck fuck fuck fuck shit fuck fuck.’ he thought to himself, but that wasn’t what mattered now. you just sounded so happy, when he felt so shit, that’s one of the many things he loved about you, you were so strong, always saw the light.

“hey hey, shhh, blitzø, what happened??” you cooed through the phone, your heart ached for him, you rolled over onto your side while you laid in bed, curling up to the blankets, as you would to your boyfriend, if he were there with you.

all you got as a response were whimpers from the other line, a few hiccups here and there. “i need words, love.” you said, softly.

blitzø sniffled, “bad day..” his voice cracked as he spoke, although he did so, so softly, well obviously you’d seen him upset before, but never like this.

“wanna talk about it?” you asked, more than hesitant to do so, you knew blitzø was by no means good with his feelings, and you were lucky you got this far with him, considering some failed attempts from the past of you trying to ease him into opening up, but you had to try, it just felt right.

on the other hand, blitzø was just as nervous as you were, if not more, he had been through it all before, and for him, it had never ended pretty, but he loved you more than anything, and he knew he had to do this.

“yeah..”

you listened to every word he said, for hours, 9pm turned to 11pm, 11pm turned to 2am, and 2am turned to kicking down his apartment door at 3:19am to cuddle him to sleep on the couch.

and as tired as she was, as well as annoyed, loona couldn’t stay mad at her father after seeing him snuggled up next to you on the couch asleep.

especially when she snapped a picture and posted it all over sinsta…

guess who’s mad now, bitch?

𝐟𝐢𝐳𝐳

…never felt like he had gotten home so exhausted before. he didn’t even have the energy to sling himself across the palace to get to his bed quicker

he wanted to see you, he wanted to be with you, he wanted to be against you and your nice warm body, with your beautiful smile…

after walking up a few flights of stairs, taking an elevator here and there, walking down a hallway that was way too long to be one to begin with, he reached your shared room. he was home.

“hi, baby!” you exclaimed, happy to see your partner at last, pausing your show that was displayed on the big screen T.V in your room, hoping out of bed to peck your boyfriend on his cheek. “i missed you!”

he managed a tired smile, “i missed you too, sweetie.” fizz paused for a moment, looking away from your gaze before asking, “can i hug you?”

fizz had a lazy, but goofy grin on his face, extending his arms out to you, doing grabby hands. you give a pouty smile, your partner was so cute you couldn’t deal with it, “of courseee, froggyyy.” you said, babying your tone, pulling him in by the waist.

“you don’t gotta ask, y’know, we’ve been together too long to do that.” you joke with a chuckle, fizz laughs along with you, softer than yours, but still, he sinks into your arms before replying, “mammon’s business, despite its stressors, has taught me the importance of consent, and not just when it comes to sex”

fizz chuckled, his tired but soft tone still remained, as he pulled away from you just slightly to peck your nose, “i’d never wanna hurt you, honey, it’s better to ask, then to be sorry, y’know?”

you blink momentarily, you were not expecting that response out of him, you recover quickly, however, smiling at him, “you are just the sweetest.” you say, pulling him in for another hug, placing a peck to his neck, snuggling your face in it as you do so.

before you can even get another word out, fizz starts crying, attempting to sniffle back the tears.

you pull away instantly, “froggy? are you okay?” scanning him for any signs of harm or discomfort.

your boyfriend nods, makeup dripping down his face, “y-yes…” his lips trembling softly as he spoke. “did something happen at work today?”

fizz shook his head, “not really” he sniffled again, “just missed you.”

“awww fizzie, cmon!” you take his hand, pulling him the bathroom,

“let’s take a nice, warm bath, and then we can do skincare and watch that one show you like, and then we can go to bed, does that sound nice?”

“that sounds really nice… thank you…”

𝐦𝐨𝐱𝐱𝐢𝐞

…was your good friend since your early childhood years, his father had a business connection with your parents, which led to you both being babysat together a lot.

both of you were grown adults now, he was married to your gal-pal from your high school days, and you were engaged to one of the kids from your friend group back when you were in college, well, before dropping out.

other than your separate significant others, you were eachothers ride-or-dies, your for-lifers. you both went to eachother for practically everything.

so when moxxie knocks on your door while your spouse is out with friends, asking for help, you don’t hesitate to let him in.

you sit him down asking him what was the matter, and he gets fidgety immediately, stuttering out an attempted response before the tears start flowing, he starts crying about how he got into an argument with millie, and how scared he was that this might ruin their marriage.

instantly, as it was second nature to you, you scoot closer to him the couch, rubbing his back as he sobbed, still venting to you about the argument and how much he misses millie.

“look, mox, here’s what ya gotta do. just call her, and tell her everything you’ve told me, i’ve known millie since we were just freshies, she’s bound to understand!”

“i guess so.. thanks, yn.”

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

...was distraught, and even that was an understatement. his beloved octavia was lost, in los angeles, in the human realm.

you, stolas, and blitzø searched around what felt like all of fucking earth to find her, while millie and moxxie were off doing eachother who knows what.

stolas sighed, running a hand through his now human hair, his breath beginning to get noticeably more shaky, with blitzø walking ahead of the two of you.

“hey.” you say, putting a hand on his arm, “it’s gonna be okay.”

“but what if it’s not though? what she’s not okay? what if she’s in danger? or worse, what if someone took her?” his voice trembled more and more at the thought.

“no.” you start, turning stolas around to face you. “she’ll be okay.” you say, putting a hand onto his chest, “she’s smarter than you may think, she’s seventeen now! she’ll know what to do.”

“but what if something happens? and i’m not there to protect her?” stolas says, his movements going to a halt, blitzø looked at the two of you, before mouthing that he’ll meet up with the both of you later.

before you know it, tears well up in his eyes, without even thinking, he pulls you into a tight hug. “i just need to know my girl is okay…”

“she’ll be okay, sweetie.” you say, pecking his cheek, you pull back slightly, lovingly looking into his eyes, “and so will you..”

i do not permit for my work to be reposted, translated, or stolen. all rights go to signedmio. characters are not mine, unless stated, and belong to their rightful creators.

[crowsoundsonly]

beautiful.

pair: matt murdock x neighbor!fem!reader

word count: ~4.1k

summary: your hot neighbor comes by to check on you when he hears some unusual sounds coming from your apartment.

warnings: a bit of an awkward reader for the first part but she gets it together :D; smut (at the end and i marked when it starts !) fingering (f rec); one use of y/n; guys i've never actually done any ceramics or pottery so i apologize for my ignorance to anyone who actually knows what they are doing. i tried. :) i also recognize that this isn't very realistic and that you probably wouldn't be doing this with your neighbor u barely know, no matter how hot he is, but you know. fantasy and fanfic and all.

a/n: hey guys!! it has been FOREVER since i posted a fic !! i wrote this today and am kind of impulse posting it lol. i've fallen deep into the matt murdock rabbit hole and i don't think i'll be emerging anytime soon. i hope you enjoy the fic !!

The feeling of wet clay in your fingers has always grounded you. Having converted a corner of your small New York apartment into a space for your hobby, you enjoy going to your pottery wheel and creating to the melodies of your favorite songs. Tonight, you needed the outlet more than ever.

Your mind spins as you shuck off your jacket at the door. You stride to your closet to pull out the t-shirt you always wear when you sit behind the wheel, trying to focus on hurriedly changing your clothes, begging your mind to leave alone the horrifyingly embarrassing interaction you just had.

Minutes before, you had approached your building with your headphones shoved in your ears, so you had failed to hear your neighbor, your hot blind neighbor, calling out to you to hold the door. You only noticed him when the door didn’t close properly due to his body being wedged between it and the frame. Ripping your headphones out of your ears, you apologized profusely, yanking the door open for him to awkwardly shuffle through, holding his cane out in front of him before retracting it to his body. 

“I am so sorry! I am so sorry I didn’t hear you,” you exclaimed, stuttering out an explanation that you hope is sufficient enough to permit his forgiveness. “I didn’t hear you. I had my headphones in. I am so sorry.”

You clutched your headphones in your hand as you let the door close behind him. If you were not so rattled, you would have taken the time to really look at him. You have never had the pleasure of actually talking to your neighbor. You have only ever caught glimpses of him on the stairwell dressed in suits, very much like the one he was sporting today.

“Don’t worry about it,” he assured, “I run into more doors than I’d like to admit.”

At his words, you noticed the easy smile that adorned his features, leading you to believe that he was not really hurt, physically or otherwise. Still unsure as to what to do and still stunned that you were talking to him at all, you just nodded your head.

“Being blind and all,” he supplied when you didn’t respond or laugh at his joke, making you realize that you had nodded to a blind man.

“I’m so sorry,” was all you could get out, not specifying what you were apologizing for.

“You closing the door on me didn’t make me blind,” he joked, trying to help the awkwardness.

“No, I’m sorry. I know. I just realized that I had nodded at you and you couldn’t see it. I’m sorry,” you said, the headphones in your hand digging into your palm, sure to leave an imprint because of how tightly you were clenching your fist. 

Your ears burned with embarrassment as heat flashed over your skin. You watched him laugh a little, his shoulders shaking slightly. 

“I think you have said sorry more times in the last minute than I have heard in the last month. Don’t feel bad. I’m fine,” the man said as he began to step forward. “I’m Matt, by the way.” 

He stretched a hand out for you to shake, but you had forgotten the headphones in your hand, so as you reached out, they clattered to the floor. 

You cursed quietly, embarrassing yourself even more, apologizing yet again. You shook his hand quickly, supplying your name before bending down to gather your things at his feet.

“I’m beginning to think that you have some sort of complex,” Matt teased as you stood up, much closer to him than you should be upon first meeting. You were close enough to actually see yourself in the reflection of his glasses and smell the cologne he had on.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered for being so close, taking a step back, wanting nothing in the world other than to dart away and hide in your apartment and hope to forget this whole interaction.

All Matt did was laugh at your apology, set his cane back down on the ground, and begin tapping in front of him. 

“It was nice meeting you,” he said politely as he found his way to the elevator. “Have a good evening, Y/N.”

“You, too, Matt. Sorry again.”

Your feet were stuck in place as you watched him get on the elevator, chuckling to himself. When you finally came to your senses, you began running up the stairwell, your stomach in your throat as you replayed the entire interaction with your hot neighbor in your head on an extremely embarrassing loop.

…

When Matt made it to his apartment, he stripped himself of his jacket, pulled a beer out of the fridge and sat down. He knows that he shouldn’t invade your privacy, but he was curious about what you were doing. It has been a few weeks since your first encounter at the door, and Matt’s curiosity about you has only grown. You have run into each other a handful of times since, but you tend to skirt away before the conversations can get beyond anything simply cordial.

On occasion, he will find your apartment with his ears and listen to the sound of you singing along to your music. There is often an unfamiliar sound coming from your apartment as well, one that he can’t pick out, especially when you have music playing over it. The sound is always a bit wet, so his mind initially thought of something a little more lewd than he should allow himself to think about you.

Matt listens for a moment longer, enjoying the sound of you humming and singing quietly. He was about to let his mind drift away from you until he heard a distinct clatter and a string of curses flow from your lips. He doesn’t hear anything for the next few seconds as he waits to see if you are okay. It feels like hours have passed before he hears you shuffling around your apartment, picking things up off the floor, sighing and muttering as you go. His curiosity gets the better of him, and before he can reconsider, he grabs his cane and walks out the door, intent on knocking on yours.

…

Groaning quietly, you scoop the clay off the floor. You had lost focus and control, leading you to make a mess at your wheel. With your rescued clay in hand, you begin preparing it to be molded again when you hear a knock on the door.

You are not expecting anyone, so you jump a little at the sound. Glancing down at your hands still holding the wet clay in them, you are at a loss at what to do. You shuffle to the door, peaking through the peephole.

At the sight of your neighbor, Matt, you step back and curse to yourself, embarrassed that you look a mess at the moment. He is blind, but you still don’t feel particularly presentable. Another knock at the door snaps you out of your thoughts, and in a bit of a panic, you call out, “Come in!” 

The door slowly clicks open and your neighbor peeks his head through before opening it up all the way. He’s wearing slacks and a white dress shirt, tinted glasses covering his eyes, obviously having recently come home from work. You wonder how he could look so good in such a simple outfit, admiring the way his torso tapers down into his hips.

“Hi, Matt,” you breathe, clutching the clay in your hands, realizing that you are dripping a bit in your doorway. “Is everything okay?” you ask, still confused as to why he is at your door.

“I guess I was coming to ask you that. I was walking by and heard some thuds and wanted to make sure you were okay,” he smiles, leaning slightly on his cane.

“Oh! Yes,” you rush out. “I’m fine. I was just doing some pottery and I, um, my clay kind of flew off the wheel a bit. Would you like to come in for a minute?” 

You had asked the question before really considering what that could mean. Without hesitation, Matt agrees and steps through the door with a few taps of his cane.

“You make pottery,” he states, a smirk on his face making you feel like there is some joke you aren’t understanding behind his words. 

“Yeah, I converted a bit of my apartment into a studio for it,” you say as you start to walk further into your apartment. The clay in your hands starts to weigh heavy as you realize that it is keeping you from leading Matt around. “Sorry, let me put my clay down and I can help you to the couch.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Matt says, followed by your name. Your heart stutters at the sound of your name on his lips. “I can get around fine. Am I facing the right way at least?”

Your mind is racing, trying to catch up with what is happening. You thought that your embarrassing first encounter would have turned him off of ever wanting to get to know you, but it doesn’t seem to be deterring him.

“Yes, just about four steps in front of you is the back of the couch.”

You watch him begin to maneuver around the room before coming to your senses and swiftly setting your clay back down on the wheel. When you turn back around, he has settled into the couch and is folding up his cane.

“Let me wash my hands,” you mumble, striding to the kitchen to scrub the clay off your fingers.

Matt begins making conversation, asking, “How long have you been making pottery?”

He is kind to ask, seemingly genuine in his interest. Over the sounds of the faucet you answer, “I took a class in college. Picked it up as a hobby and have been doing it ever since.”

You can hear him hum as you turn off the sink, drying your hands. Tentatively, you join Matt on the couch, sure to leave a cushion of space between you.

“Do you want something to drink? Beer? Water?” you offer, standing before he even has time to answer.

“Water would be great, thanks,” he replies. You notice the way his lips turn up in a smile and his head cocks to the side as he talks, finding it quirky, if not charming.

You take a few deep breaths at the sink, calming your nerves that have your mind in a jumbled mess. Your hot, well-dressed neighbor is sitting on your couch, happily engaging in small talk as you sit in a ratty t-shirt and shorts. “What am I doing?” you quietly ask yourself as you pick up the glasses off the counter and bring them to Matt, waiting patiently on the couch.

When you offer him the glass, he thanks you softly, bringing the rim to his lips. You can’t help but watch intently, your heart picking up its pace at the thought of doing more with those lips than watching them.

“What do you do for work, Matt?” you ask quickly, trying to distract your own mind from your wandering thoughts.

“I’m a defense attorney. My friend and I have a firm we started together,” he says as he puts his glass down on the coffee table. You are impressed that he even knew it was there, but before you can think too long about it, he has asked you the same question.

“I’m an English teacher,” you say between sips. “At the high school on 76th. Twelfth grade.”

“Admirable,” he laughs. “I hated my English teacher.”

“Everyone who doesn’t end up studying English hated their high school English teachers,” you joke. “What did they make you read? Grapes of Wrath?” 

This only causes Matt to laugh more as he nods, “Worst book I’ve read in my life.”

“Yeah, that one is a tough read,” you concede. “But at least it’s better than The Odyssey.”

“Well, you’ve got me there,” he smiles.

You are not exactly sure what Matt had hoped would happen when he knocked on your door, but you are sure it wasn’t to discuss literature.

“I’m sorry. I can somehow always bring books into the conversation. Is there something I can do for you, Matt?”

He shakes his head slightly, smile only growing wider. “No, I love reading so don’t apologize for talking about it,” he assures you. “And like I said, I was just coming by to make sure you were okay.”

“Right,” you breathe, nodding and smiling. “I’m fine. Just the clay.”

The two of you fall into easy conversation for the next hour, getting to know each other. You discovered that you both frequent Josie’s, the bar around the corner, surprised that you have never run into each other there. He teases you about your first meeting, calling you out for the plethora of sorries you said. 

You enjoy talking to Matt. You find that it is almost effortless to do so. The conversation is seamless and you eventually make your way back to the topic of ceramics where you had started.

“Can I listen while you work?” he asks you. “I have always wanted to try pottery but never got around to taking a class.”

Shocked that he is asking to stay longer, and that he is asking with such surety, you agree. 

“Yes, of course. You’re welcome to. Would you, um, would you like to try it?” 

You glance again at his clothes which are far too nice to be doing pottery in, but you asked the question before you ever considered that.

“Could I? I would love to, if that’s okay,” he says, looking adorably eager.

“Of course. It is a little bit messy,” you say, getting up to find some clothes for him to change into. “Let me grab you some sweats or something.”

Shifting through your drawers, you find a pair of sweatpants big enough for him to wear. You bring them out and find that he has already unbuttoned his shirt, giving you a clear vision of his incredibly toned torso. Your breath catches at the sight, eyes unmoving as he removes the article entirely. 

“I found some sweats,” you mumble, your throat suddenly dry. “I can find a shirt, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he dismisses, grabbing the sweats from your hands. “I don’t want to get all your clothes dirty.”

You breathe out a quiet, “Okay,” before leading him gently to the bathroom to change his pants.

When the door has closed behind him, you let yourself catch your breath, mind going into panic-mode as you comprehend what is about to happen. You are about to teach your hot, blind shirtless neighbor, Matt, how to work with wet clay. How in the world did you get here?

Suddenly, the door is open and Matt is shuffling to the middle of the room, glasses and dress pants removed. You grab his elbow and guide him to the stool in front of the pottery wheel. He sits down, and you let out a quiet breath.

“You ready?” you ask, pulling up another stool behind him.

“I’m ready,” he answers as he stretches his hands out to find the clay. 

You start the wheel up and guide his hands with your own, reaching around him, one arm going over his bare, sculpted shoulder, the other weaving under it. Your skin tingles as your arm presses into his side, hyper aware of every centimeter of contact. Wet hands push and mold the clay, helping it take shape.

You can hear his breath falling short as you help him cup his hands over the clay. You talk softly, whispering directions and guidance.

“You’re doing great, Matt. You’re a natural,” you praise, causing his breath to hitch.

“I have a good teacher,” he whispers as his head leans back slightly to direct his comment to your mouth.

When you have a good round shape going, you press his thumb into the center gently, your chest pressing into his back in order to angle his hand correctly. Your heart pounds in your ears, hips shifting on the stool.

“Beautiful,” you breathe as the clay begins taking the form of a small cup. “You were perfect.”

“Thank you for teaching me.”

When your project is complete, you take your hands away from the clay and slow the wheel down until it comes to a stop. You do not move from your position around Matt yet, instead electing to guide his hands to the bowl of water you have beside the wheel. You submerge Matt’s large, calloused hands in the water, gliding your fingers over his palms in an effort to loosen the shell of clay forming around them. Your fingers weave through his as you clean them, the feeling of his knuckles catching on yours has a subtle heat surging to your core. You feel the raised scars that litter his hands and wonder who he fought to get them. 

Matt’s eyes are closed as you work with his hands, your chest still pressed to his back. You hear him whisper your name, drawing your eyes to his. You know he can’t see you, but you feel his attention on you, making your skin flush with heat. He leans in slowly, his nose nudging yours before finding your lips with his own. 

The kiss is slow, soft, unsure. Your breath flutters out of your nose as his lips begin to move. The feeling of his beard scratching at your chin causes your stomach to tighten and hands to grip his in the water. His tongue comes to press against your top lip, silently asking for entrance. You grant it as you tilt your head, finding the angle where your lips perfectly slot with his.

“Matt,” you mumble against his lips, causing him to pull away slightly, “come with me.”

You stand up slowly and wrap your hands in a towel, drying Matt’s with it as well. He stands up quietly and links his hands in yours, shuffling behind you. You guide him to the bathroom and turn on the spray of water from the shower head. 

“I’m just going to wash your arms,” you explain. You know he could wash them himself, but you want to have an excuse to keep touching him. Your heart hasn’t stopped its steady thumping since you sat behind Matt at the wheel, and the pace only quickens when you help him put his beautifully toned forearms under the water. 

For being so confident on the surface, Matt is exceptionally quiet. You expected maybe a few more suggestive comments or pick up lines, but instead, Matt has kept silent, only mumbling small thank you’s and hums. His eyebrows knit together in what looks to be contentment, almost bliss. 

You run your fingers over his arms, fingernails scratching at his skin, rinsing away any remaining clay. When you have finished, you begin washing yourself, and having sensed this, Matt stops your movement and replaces your hands with his own. He quietly glides his palms over your forearms, scratching over your wrists. The tender actions have your breath coming in shallow pants as your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.

“Beautiful,” Matt whispers, parroting your comment from earlier.

You pull your hands out of the water, turning it off. Matt’s hands never leave your body. They slide up your arms and cascade down your waist. His lips find yours again as your wet hands weave their way through his hair. You gently press your hips to his which causes his breath to catch and hitch in a way that has you pressing yourself even further into him.

After a few more kisses, Matt pulls away for a second and removes his hands from your waist to loop them around your wrists.

“No one has ever been as gentle with me as you have been,” he says in a voice that is barely audible. 

“You deserve it, Matt,” you say before leaning in to kiss him again.

(Smut begins here)

The two of you make your way out of the bathroom and back to the couch where your glasses of water were left unfinished. You lay down and guide Matt to the space between your knees. His hips press into yours, your core clenching and burning at the friction. Lips find each other as one of  his hands comes to rest above his head while the other nudges its way beneath your shirt at your hip.

“Is this okay?” he asks softly, eyes open and gazing unfocused at your collarbones.

“Yes,” you breathe, “more than okay.”

At your words of consent, his hips start moving against your core, igniting a fire below your navel. His hands, still damp from the shower, slide up your bare waist, skimming below your breast. You had rid yourself of your bra when you had come home from work, completely unaware that you would be in this position a few hours later. Because of this, Matt has unadulterated access which you are more than happy to grant him.

Your hips roll into his, back arching when his thumb grazes your nipple. He hushes the quiet sigh that escapes you with a kiss, sliding his hand down your back. His lips move behind your ear, down your throat, and over the exposed skin of your collarbone. His hips have not stopped their slow circles, and your own meet him in rhythm. 

You can feel your panties becoming soaked by the second, and as if he can read your mind, he pulls you up to straddle his lap, his hand coming to press gently to your core. You gasp at the pressure which elicits a smile and a hum from Matt.

“Can I touch you here?” he asks quietly. 

You nod and whisper, “Please.”

“Can I take these off?” 

Before he can help you, you stand up and slide your shorts down your legs and climb back in his lap.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, the words shooting straight to your core. You clench around nothing, your hips rolling in search of friction. Shaky breaths flutter from your lips, and the sound drives Matt crazy.

In one motion, Matt kisses you hard and open mouthed as his fingers push your panties to the side, pressing into your wet core. You suck in a breath at the feeling of his fingers swiping up and down, finding place inside of you. They move in and out, nudging the spot that has you arching and keening in his lap.

“I like listening to you,” he murmurs into your lips, capturing them in a kiss that has you moaning into his mouth. “Your breaths. Your moans. Let me hear you, sweetheart.”

His words draw a sigh from your lips, your hands clutching his bare shoulders as his fingers drive in and out of you. Covered in you, they find your pearl, pressing and stroking. It doesn’t take long for the coil in your core to tighten, your eyes to clench, and your hips to roll against his fingers.

“I’m so close,” you mumble, sighing and moaning as you chase your release.

“That’s it,” Matt says softly. “Let go.”

At that moment, the pressure in your hips releases and you let yourself come on his fingers, clenching around them as his thumb rubs over your clit. He guides you through it, kissing you as his other hand cradles your head. 

“You were perfect, sweetheart,” he says, his praise soothing as you come down from your high. Your heart starts slowing its pace as you melt into Matt. He pulls his fingers out and wraps his arms around you, taking you in as you collapse into his form. You sit silently together for a minute while you catch your breath. You listen to his breathing, your face pressed into the crook of his neck.

“Matt,” you say, at which he hums in acknowledgment. “Thanks for coming to check on me.”

He lets out a laugh that comes out more like a huff. “Of course. I’m glad you were okay.”

“Do you want to come over again? I could show you how to make a bowl next time.”

He laughs but does not give an immediate response. For a second you thought that he was going to say no, your body panicking, your heart rate spiking, but before you started overthinking everything, he answers, “I would love to. And I’ll bring dinner next time.”

a/n: thank you so so much for reading !! check out my masterlist with a few other fics if you want more !!

[unhappy-sometimes]

a 2024 writing retrospective (for sxf fanfic)

ignore the fact that i’m a few days late. i’ve been unbelievably busy the past couple weeks.

in this post i’ll go over the fics i wrote in 2024 think of it as an extremely extended author’s notes. i love to talk and will do so when given the chance.

i’ll start from my latest fic and work my way backwards. spoilers for everything i’ve written in 2024.

(Very) Stupid

Something that I try really really hard to maintain in my writing is believability, specifically when it comes to writing characters. Characters acting out of character is one of my biggest fanfic pet peeves: if I wanted to read about someone’s oc, then I would’ve read a regular book. That being said, I think a lot about how Twilight would actually act like if he were in love. I had an interesting conversation with @cantareincminor forever ago about how he’s so emotionally constipated that it’s kind of difficult to write Twilight in love without making him a bit ooc. Right now in canon it’s hard to imagine him falling head over heels for anyone (in my opinion, anyway).

That being said there are moments in canon where he acts flustered in situations that could be interpreted as romantic. So, for right now, my hypothesis is this: if and when Twilight falls in love, he’s going to be an absolute fool. He’s going to do his usual overthinking and overanalyizing, so much to the point that he starts hesitating over the smallest things.

(Very) Stupid is how I imagine all of that unfolding, although for the sake of comedy I did push things to the absurd. Sometimes Twilight does things in canon with such certainty of “Yes, of course normal people do this, I’m nailing this normalcy thing” that he fails to realize he’s being kinda ridiculous. I also wanted to take that element and incorporate it into a fic.

I also wanted to try subverting expectations (ooh fancy literary term) by having them do romantic things that lead them nowhere. I tried to cram in as many tropes as I could—feeding each other with a fork, only one bed, first kiss—but do so under the guise of Twilight completely missing how dumb he’s being the entire time. He only realizes his feelings until after their first kiss, specifically when Yor surprises him with a quick peck on the cheek. This, of course, was deliberate. I figured that it’d make the most sense if Twilight would only realize his feelings in a situation where he wasn’t the one initiating a (somewhat) romantic gesture because he theoretically wouldn’t be overthinking it. Instead, Yor just sneaks in when his guard is down <3

Endings are usually the hardest things for me to write and (Very) Stupid was no exception. I almost had Twilight pass out at the breakfast table when he kisses Yor but then I realized I’d made him faint in almost every fic I’ve written this year and that felt like a cop out. But I figured it out and I don’t mind the way the ending turned out :D

Also, kind of a random reference, but the title is slightly inspired by VERY NICE by Seventeen lol

Holy crap I’ve written so much for only one fic so far. My apologies in advance.

21 Eden Street

I won’t go into too much detail for 21 Eden Street because it’s still ongoing, but I just wanna brag about how fun it is to write hehe. It’s really enjoyable to write pure crack and come up with stupid and insane ideas with Cantare. You don’t need to have seen either iteration of 21 Jump Street to understand what’s going on. Honestly, we’ve taken very little from the source material and treated it more like a loose guide and a basis for brainstorming.

Don’t worry, we haven’t abandoned it! Cantare is waiting on me to finish writing my chapter (hehe sorry, Cantare!) and soon it’ll be back up and running.

Seeing things

Ah, Seeing Things, my beloved <3

This fic has the least amount of hits out of everything I’ve written (which is not surprising to me) but I hold it very dear to my heart. There’s not a specific reason why other than I just really enjoyed writing it. I also spent a ton of time making supplementary drawings and a whole hype campaign for it, too, so I kinda am obligated to feel some sorta way about it.

Anyway, the way this fic came about is simple; I just had the things I am most afraid of happen to Twilight. Yes, I’m scared of serial killers and my loved ones dying like everyone else, but something I am absolutely terrified of are hallucinations. That and doppelgangers.

Not being able to tell reality apart from fiction activates the flight or fight senses in me. Real life can be scary, yes, but reality is bound by the rules of reality. Literally anything can happen in fiction. The most horrific, awful things are possible in fiction and if those things suddenly become possible in reality???? Girl I am GONE. Passing away. Curling up in a fetal position in the nearest corner. I don’t know if that makes any sense. If I ever start seeing things that I can’t be sure are actually happening or not, I am choosing to die right then and there. Doppelgangers as a concept are also really scary to me. It’s like stranger danger but times a thousand because you can’t tell who the strangers are anymore.

In my initial draft, there wasn’t nearly as much of a tension between Twilight and Yor. If I recall correctly, by then I’d written to nearly the end and realized that for Yor this whole experience has been Loid acting just a little more weird than usual. It might’ve been Cantare’s suggestion (just assume everything after Guy’s Night has been beta’d by Cantare and you’ll be mostly right) but I realized that Twilight probably would start to suspect the people around him were screwing with him. I added the scene where his room was messed up and it all fell into place hehe.

I don’t like writing gore or the like because I feel like typical gore quickly starts escalating into levels of pain that the average reader has no possibility of comprehending and it loses its efficacy. Instead I tried feeding into Twilight’s paranoia, adding things that in isolation are just weird but when put together are unsettling. I shamelessly stole the fourth room hallway from Impossible Landscapes, a Delta Green campaign that I highly recommend you check out if you enjoy surreal horror. I purposefully kept some things vague, like the things Anya sees in Twilight’s mind, the way Handler’s face gets warped, or the description of “the watchers” because I felt like going into detail would lose the unknown-ness of it all. That and I’m lazy heehee.

In some way, canon Spy x Family does deal with ideas of doppelgangers and paranoia. Spies are constantly afraid of being listened in on, they don’t know if they can trust anyone, and they always have to keep an eye over their shoulder. For someone who is always a little scared of being spied on (I cover my phone and laptop cameras for that exact reason), that kinda sounds like torture. Seeing Things was a fun way to crank that paranoia up to a hundred. It was especially fun writing the museum scene because I tried thinking of things that are just ever so slightly off, things that theoretically could exist but clearly don’t.

I also threw in other things I’m scared of, like being watched, being followed, the dark, and the bathroom at night just to be extra mean to Twilight <3

Anyway, I’m rambling and this analysis post will be a novel if I keep this up.

Guy’s Night

I do recognize the insane tone shift going from Seeing Things to Guy’s Night.

What is there to even say about Guy’s Night? I got the idea from Psych (the Last Night Gus episode) who got the general basic from the Hangover movies. I wrote it all out in a few days, one of which I was sick in bed. I don’t know what to say.

Looking back on it, I don’t love the way it turned out. I’m glad I wrote it but where I usually don’t mind rereading my stuff for fun I do kinda cringe at Guy’s Night. It relies on a lot of contrivances which I tried masking with humor but it’s still a bit obvious. If you make a timeline of the previous night’s events, it only kinda makes sense.

It doesn’t help that I went into it with no plan whatsoever. I just sat down and said what happens happens. When I wrote in chapter one that something had happened between Loid and Yor, I didn’t know what that was. When I wrote Loid saying “we need to see what’s on that camera film” I was right there next to him saying “buddy, so do I because I have no idea.” When wrote Franky saying that his friend Marko might have answers, I was hoping he would too because I, like everyone else, didn’t know what was going on either.

The ONE thing I DID know was that Twilight got a tattoo the night before. That was it. That’s all.

I don’t typically plan out everything when I write but I usually have a good idea. For Guy’s Night, I had a bad idea in that I had no idea. It kinda shows. Sorry.

That being said, it was incredibly fun writing their drunk shenanigans and banter. The dynamic between Twilight, Franky, and Yuri was so goofy that I’ve seriously debated writing a sequel of sorts. However that’s incredibly unlikely. If I ever do write a sequel, it’d be a Girl’s Night with Yor and a combination of female characters, probably Sylvia and Fiona.

After Peace (and Glimpses of Happiness)

A quick heads up: I don’t go into detail but I do discuss mental illness in this segment.

I am incredibly proud of how After Peace turned out. Not only did it receive a really good reception for being my first fic ever, but it also helped me work through some things in my own life. It’s important to give some context.

I wrote After Peace shortly after graduating college. I won’t go into specifics, but college was really, really difficult for me. I had been so excited for this next step in my life after graduating high school but instead it turned out to be one of the hardest experiences of my life. Depression came out of nowhere and stomped me into the ground.

I used to have very high expectations for myself; I had a clear vision of what I wanted to do with my life and I was taking steps to work towards those goals. Then my mental health tanked and suddenly everything just felt so difficult and pointless. I’d sleep all day and then hate myself when the sun started to set because that meant I’d wasted an entire day doing nothing when I was supposed to be working towards something. But I just couldn’t do it anymore.

That’s something I’ve noticed that a lot of media gets wrong about depression sometimes. It doesn’t always make you feel sad. Sometimes it just sucks everything out of you—sadness, happiness, anger, everything. I stopped drawing, stopped listening to music, stopped eating, stopped exercising, stopped doing everything that I enjoyed because it felt like the equivalent of doing the dishes. Everything was a chore, even the things that I liked.

What really changed things around was when my poor roommate, who was sick of me sleeping for twenty hours a day, dragged my sorry self to the free counseling services on campus. It’s doesn’t fix everything, but having someone who cares about you and you care about can really help your mental health.

Anyway, let’s not forget I’m talking about an anime fanfiction here haha.

After Peace really did start out as a couple of doodles but as I started to write it, I noticed that there were a lot of similarities between myself and Loid. No, I am not a former spy turned grumpy hermit, but I did once have great aspirations and now have to settle for what reality offers me. Realizing that worth comes from simply existing was something that I had to understand in order to begin my recovery process.

I’ve always found it kind of sad that if you took away the goal of world peace from Twilight that you’re basically left with nothing. He doesn’t really have hobbies, no real friends, and he never takes a day off. That’s hardly sustainable. Would he really be happy when there’s nothing left to do? I’d like to think so, but I wanted to see what would happen if he wasn’t.

I mentioned this in the end note, but After Peace was also influenced by this comic I was working on years ago that had the similar premise of “grumpy man learns to enjoy life with the help of a young girl” (very original, I know). I doubt that I’ll ever release that comic in the capacity I once intended, but it does live on in my secret second tumblr account of you ever manage to find it.

Anyway, I was worried about writing After Piece because Anya plays a big role and I am Not Good at writing children. It was hard striking a balance between making Anya likeable but still realistic. I don’t interact with children often and, as a youngest sibling, I don’t have much experience with them. Anya has so many layers—being a test subject, being a telepath, being a child—that it was hard managing them all. But I’m okay with how she turned out.

There is a slight problem in that she basically disappears once Yor shows up D:

I debated having Yor in the fic at all but then I realized that without her the emotional climax would have to rely on a four year old’s emotional intelligence and then decided right then and there that Yor had to be in it haha.

Yor’s whole deal with accidentally killing the wrong person was kind of a last minute addition. I do wish I was able to explore that more, but I also feel like she’s emotionally mature enough to forgive herself more quickly than Twilight would. She ends up serving a bit of a role model to him. It was also nice to be able to write them interacting with the truth out on the table and for them to be honest with each other.

Pacing was something that I was very concerned with. Looking back on it now, I’m still worried that things move along a bit quickly. However, I am reminded of some advice my graphic design professors gave me: “Good design is when nothing more can be take away.” And, because I was writing this as fast as possible, you best believe I was taking things away if I didn’t need them. I didn’t want to fall into the trap of dwelling on Twilight’s thoughts for too long so I instead opted for showing him progressing through experiences instead. I think it worked out.

However because I took so many things out I decided to start Glimpses of Happiness, a supplementary fic to After Peace that fills in the cracks, so to speak. I wanted to have more moments between Twilight and the other characters, like stargazing with Anya and growing close to Yor. Right now there’s only one chapter, but I have plans for at least a few more. I also thought it was important to highlight that mental health recovery never truly ends. Just because Yor and Twilight had a nice chat on the roof doesn’t mean that things are suddenly okay. It’s a long process that sometimes never ends and I wanted to show that.

Of course, I can’t talk about After Peace without addressing the Midwest allegations. As I said, yes, this fic was inspired by my childhood in the American Midwest, even though I was nowhere near any mountains. The Midwest is a silly place full of nothing to do but go to your local Walmart for fun, but I think it served a good enough setting for Twilight to chill out and slow down. If I really wanted to do full Midwest, I’d have Twilight watch a tornado touch down on a cornfield from his truckbed, but that feels sort of out of place.

I feel like there’s more to say but I can’t think of anything and I doubt anyone’s actually gonna read all the way down here anyway. But yeah, that’s After Peace.

Oh, and the A.M. AM by Damien Jurado Youtube video currently has nine comments that mentjon falling from a five story building, which I think is really funny.

So now what?

Against my better judgement, I’m still writing. I have a couple projects in the works, especially one big big big one that hopefully I can start publishing soon. Keep an eye out for that.

In the meantime, thanks for a great year! I hope 2025 holds more great things in store for us all!

-unso ^. .^<

[arcaneauthor]

Can you please do Stray kids Lee know cute things he does as a boyfriend and him as a boyfriend headcons please 🥺

Cute things Lee Know does as your bf

Pairing: Leeknow x reader

Also requested by: @phumzo5

Warnings: none, just fluff basically

Tags: are you actually supposed to put tags for headcannons? I have no clue, Lee (the butthunter) Minho, protective bf Leeknow, fluff, more fluff, oh did I mention the fluff?

A/n: So um I know I said I had all these stories ideas and was gonna start back posting more *awkard laughter* funny how life can derail plans huh?😅 But um I brought you Leeknow as an apology gift??🥹🤲 (to anybody that saw the post about my Chan story idea I swear I am still going to write it I’m just very slow so pls be patient😖)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

He is literally constantly flirting with you

Doesn’t matter if you’ve been dating 10 days or ten years, he will always flirt with you like you are in a new relationship.

The “honey moon faze” never ends with him

Literally makes it his life goal to get you as flustered as possible. He finds you blushing to be extremely adorable.

Always tries to catch your eyes across a room to give you a teasing wink and smirk. Mostly done in very serious situations where you getting so red and flustered is definitely not appropriate. The little shit

Face squishies constantly, especially when you blush and he thinks you’re cute. (If you don’t know what I mean just look at what he’s doing to the cat in the above picture and just imagine it’s your face instead of the cats lol)

Slaps the booty anytime it’s in range

Even in very publicly inappropriate places. He has no shame

I mean we are talking about the “butt hunter” here. What did you expect?

Takes a ton of pictures of you sleeping

I swear it’s not as weird as it sounds. He just thinks you are so adorable all curled up and innocent like that.

Bonus points if you fell asleep curled up with one of his cats

Loves when you sit on his lap. Sometimes he’ll just pull you down to sit with him when you walk by, insisting whatever you were walking around doing could wait till later. He’s actually secretly just craving your attention and closeness but won’t admit it.

Buys two of the same hoodie when he’s shopping cause he knows you love wearing his but he also doesn’t want to give up his fav hoodies lol

You would totally just steal his anyways because the other one doesn’t smell like him

Secretly loves to do the typical cheesy “coupley” things with you but would never admit it lol. “Omg we have got to do this couples costume it’s so cute!” *pulls face of disgust* “I’d rather die”

he’s literally buying it online as he speaks

Will sometimes buy you random gifts when he’s feeling sentimental

But he’ll just come home,drop it in front of you, and leave without acknowledging that he did something sweet lol

Gets very protective

Not in like a overly possessive way but he definitely does not have a tolerance for people messing with you

He senses you are even a little bit uncomfortable?? Yeah he’s not having it.

Same for just walking in public anywhere with him. If there’s any paparazzi or fan getting a little too close and pushy with you? He will dish out the most intimidating drop dead glare you’ve ever seen while pulling you in closer to him. All while wishing he wasn’t an idol so he could properly put them in their place

To an outsider he may come off as very straightforward and emotionless, but he can turn into the softest boi in an instant. Especially with you

I mean have you seen that scary skz code episode where he’s comforting Felix because he’s scared??🥺

If he senses something the least bit off with you?? Caring soft boyfriend mode activated!

Absolutely hates seeing you upset or crying

“Honey what’s wrong?” “What’s bothering you?” “Are you okay babe?” “What can I do?“ “Who do I have to murder?”

[xo-adeline]

hi, i saw your post about Dan Heng with a Female! Idol! Reader and i really loved it! <3

if you could, can you do a second part to that Dan Heng post? he’s one of my favourite characters and it would make me really happy! only again, because i loved it!!!

what i would like to request is…

Dan Heng gets nagged by March 7th to get her one of these sweets in Penacony because they’re ‘limited’ so he goes for her, with the location of the place in his phone. he pays attention to his phone to not realize in time that somebody crashed into him, he looks to see his favourite idol and he gets flustered. not only expecting him to see her, but to gain slight physical touch out of her and he finds out she’s been chased by a bunch of fans. he acts unconsciously and takes her to a nearby alleyway, hiding her close to hide her with a bunch of fans running around, looking for her and once its clear. in exchange, she takes him around Penacony to the nicest places since she is a VIP basically everywhere due to her fame and Dan Heng may have accidentally forgotten to get March 7th her ‘limited’ sweets, in which she blows up his phone but he doesn’t bother to respond.

please and thank you! <3

-> of course! The first part was so fun to write and I’m glad you enjoyed it so much!! I’d be happy to write Dan Heng as long as somebody requests it! This is the link to part one if anybody wants to read it! - Part 1!

March 7th. The girl he was cursing now, but the one who he would soon learn was a blessing. She had a tendency to be scrolling on any sort of social media when they were just relaxing on the expressing but never did he think he would all of a sudden be pulled out of his research and be dragged out into Penacony trying to find some limited edition sweet that she "needed". It was even worse since they had no idea where they were going since she had only seen a promo online about it, but it didn't have an address or anything on the page. Luckily with the little knowledge they had, they soon had an idea where they were supposed to be going and thank god for Google maps (or any sort of name you wanna use lol). Too bad he was so busy looking down at the directions not only did he lose March who ran off somewhere, but he had bumped into somebody. Great, now he actually had to speak to somebody. Just as he looked up to apologize to the person, he stopped. There she was. That Idol he's been researching and almost fainted when he realized that Caelus had gotten tickets to her concert, The (Name). He's never apologized faster in his life, of course a blush growing on his face, I mean he just made physical contact with the girl of his dreams!! She seemed a little fractic, looking around as she told him all was fine and that she was in a rush, and that's when he noticed all the people who were also looking around frantically. That's when he put it together, they were looking for (Name). Ignoring the buzzing of his phone he quickly pocketed it and took her hand, trying to blush any harder, and pulled her into a small little alley. He tried to explain that, no, he wasn't trying to do anything bad but make sure those people didn't see her, with a quick laugh from her end she thanked him before waiting out a while, both ignoring the obnoxious buzzing from his pocket. It was about 15-20 minutes before Dan Heng poked his head out and looked around before he gave a thumbs up, and just as he was about to pull out his phone and text March and ask where she was you spoke up. "Hey.. um, so I wanted to thank you, and I know you haven't explored all of penacony with all the issues and stuff happening so how about I take you on a little tour? I can get you into all the VIP areas too!" You asked with a smile, which in response he also slightly smiled back before leaving his phone in his pocket and following behind you as you walk out of the alley and start pointing things out. It definitely didn't feel like only a couple hours before you two were done and just strolling around the city as the sunset was slowly turning into the dark blue of the night. Eventually the two of you made it back to the alley where you started and since it was already night you both decided that it would be a good idea to go your separate ways, and with a quick kiss to his cheek and another thank you, you hurried off back towards your house. He was lost in his train of thought for a couple seconds with a blush that made him look like a tomato before he was broken out of it with a loud voice calling his name. Right. March.

[ryuichirou]

I apologize if it is too personal but how do you deal with "antishipper" and the way they make callout posts and harassment campaigns against you ? It’s legitimately so scary and it makes me hesitant of posting my own art

Anon! I am very sorry you are going through this horrible feeling of hesitation and anxiety; knowing that people get targeted like that could not only stop you from posting, but stop you from creating altogether, and this is the worst part about this whole thing.

It’s not too personal, and I don’t mind talking about it at all. I’ve talked about our position and our relationship with fandom policing a bunch of times already, so I’m sorry if I’m repeating myself.

I used to be worried about posting certain stuff too. Well, when I was a teen/in my early 20s I wasn’t worried about anything: we had so much juicy stuff posted here lol But then the nsfw ban happened, and the social climate of this app and internet in general started shifting, the first stories about people driven to end their lives because of the hate they received started to come out, and we stopped posting completely. It wasn’t a huge loss to us back then, and this situation wasn’t the only reason why we stopped, but still, it clearly became much more difficult to just appear out of nowhere, throw problematic stuff in your blog and run away again.

I vividly remember us wanting to post my Shingeki no Kyojin drawings and comics based on our AUs and stuff, but not knowing what to do with Ereri – there was no way for us to be “unproblematic” (which was never a concern to us, we just didn’t want to get tons of hate lol) and still post Eren with a man twice his age. So we started posting them without a tag, starting with a drawing that wasn’t too shippy, and then miraculously the world didn’t end. That made us bolder, and we started to post them openly, and posted them for almost two years pretty regularly, alongside some of our other problematic ships + problematic themes. Of course we did get hate, we got a lot of hate while we were posting SnK stuff from all kinds of people, but what we also got a lot of people who found our content refreshing and interesting, even if it was weird and uncomfortable at times.

We weren’t the only people who shipped Ereri (let’s ignore my petty thoughts about the difference between Ereri and Rivaere for now), and we weren’t the only people in Twst fandom who liked Shroudcest, which is another ship that we were super hesitant about posting or even mentioning at first. But with all the hate around I was so certain the world was going to end the moment we post them, and that didn’t happen. The end of the world never happens, but what does happen is that people either get introduced to a fun new dynamic and get invested, or get happy that someone finally posts for the ship they were too afraid to post for. Somehow, when you see some other person being ballsy, you don’t feel as scared anymore – it happened to us with other people’s posts too. Yes, I still say this even though it spawns a bunch of callout posts and harassment, as it did with us. Were we cancelled? Yeah, somewhat. There’s so much you can say about an acc that states “problematic stuff, 18+”, right? I was super relieved and happy, actually, that a lot of people left/blocked us just because they’re the people I’d never want to interact with my art.

I’ve been yapping for a long time already lol so I’ll give you some pieces of advice instead… These are things that legitimately help us.

Surround yourself with people who support you – if not you personally, then at least your ideas (i.e. other proshippers). Luckily, nowadays it’s easier to find them… But also, having a friend who you can vent about these things to helps a lot! It’s cheesy but it’s a fact: when you’re not alone, it’s not as scary.

Always ignore comments/asks from antis and block them on sight, block anonymous asks too. Even if you really want to sass them, it’s much more effective to ignore them: when you give them attention, it invites more engagement from them.

Block people you get bad vibes from. Block those who like or comment bad takes or support harassment of others, block all of their alt accounts. It’s tedious and takes time, but it really helps to keep you hidden from them, at least to some degree. I look up Shroudcest sometimes just to block new people. They try to make fun of me for that, but who cares if it works? You can’t block everyone, but these people usually flock together and it’s usually just a bunch of friends, so taking several posts on these topics from people from the fandom and blocking everyone involved will obliterate the majority of harassers.

In terms of your safety, having multiple accounts in case you main one gets mass-reported helps + I would advice to keep irl stuff away from your fandom stuff just in case.

This is going to sound stupid, but please keep in mind that this isn’t about you. These people are very miserable and not very smart. Even if they try to paint you like a bad person, they don’t know anything about you, so don’t let their judgment affect how you feel about yourself. This is exactly what they want – to have power over you.

Stay strong and take care of yourself, i.e. lock your acc and/or take a break if you feel overwhelmed. Don’t worry, it will pass: it’s very rare for these clowns to keep focus on one person for a long period of time; they have like 5 different dramas per day. There are some absolutely batshit crazy rapid assholes who won’t leave an artist alone for years, but those are super rare and special cases altogether, I don’t think you need to be worried about those.

Keep in mind which fandom you want to do this with, btw. It’s usually okay for the most part, but if the fandom is just a bunch of kids, it’s more likely not worth it or deserves an empty account, at least. Twst is surprisingly good despite anything it might look like! Thanks to Yana being a shotacon and a creator of Kuroshitsuji, I guess. There are many great and supportive people in the twst fandom, it’s been a pleasure to be here, even though, once again, it’s the first fandom where I got a bunch of callout posts and nasty stuff in my ask (SnK fandom usually harassed me for other things).

TL;DR: it is scary, and you could easily get callout posts about yourself, but guess what, you also get to be yourself. Because realistically, callout posts can’t stop you from creating art. They want you to believe that they have power over you, but this isn’t true. Your life online won’t end after some random callout post – mine didn’t. They also don’t understand that each consequent callout post affects the person being called out even less. We do have a minor panic attack for the first hour or so, and it does involve more extra blocking, but mostly it just sours our mood for the day and drops our morale. I still draw, though, out of spite a little lol Oh, and do try to report these types of posts if you get them, there’s nothing wrong with that.

People had been persecuted for their art and ideas for centuries, so what happens now is really nothing new. Without diving into specifics, there are way worse things they could do than writing callouts, but they aren’t super likely to do those. Luckily.

Take care of yourself, but also please don’t doubt yourself; when it comes to your art being way too fun for lovers of censorship to handle, you’re in a very good company. I’m referring to all the artist and writers of this world btw and not just me and Katsu lol but us as well!

[dailyhatsune]

hi! not exactly a request but i do wanna ask, whats your process when you're rendering more paint like art? (if that makes sense, English isnt my first language so apologies hdskhsjdbd) i really love how you use the colors and im curious how you do it :0

i’ve been meaning to answer this one for a while so here’s how i painted miku in today’s post (put under the read more because yeah prepare for a long post

i’d also like to preface this by saying that i never follow a set way of doing things, so in terms of what my personal process is like, these are only broad strokes of what i do! sometimes i’ll combine or skip parts entirely, depending on how i feel. also, this is not a tutorial, just how i do things, so please don’t treat it like one :’D this will read like the ‘how to draw an owl’ picture if you do

first, like every artist, i sketch. more specifically, i’m getting an idea of what i want to paint later on. this could be how a scene is set up or in this case, how a character is posed. here i’m not concerned about details or getting everything perfectly, i’m only planning how the thing will be composed. maybe a lot of canvas size changing, or adjusting what miku’s doing (note how busted miku’s right hand looks from all the transforming!) however, i still have to be concerned with how clear the sketch will be to future me, because the sketch won’t be any good if i can’t read what miku’s doing

after that, i lay down a flat gray under the sketch, mainly focusing on giving miku a clear silhouette. this is also a good time to make adjustments to the composition on the fly if i suddenly feel like something can be improved upon, like shortening miku’s left arm from the sketch!

after painting a flat silhouette, i start shading in grayscale, focusing only on lighting. i usually do it in two passes, one for the lightest and darkest tones i’ll use (not black and white) and then a second for midtones to blend them better with the base gray but i forgot to screenshot the result of the first pass 🗿 nevertheless, here is where i can start adding some amount of details. i’m not including any extra accessories yet, just focusing on the base design of the outfit and the character herself (for anyone wanting to draw characters from That Gacha Game, this is how i personally make the process more bearable for myself.) i still use the dark gray to separate where certain details (like the facial features and fingers) begin and end, mainly to make colouring more bearable later.

now here’s where i get the Good Colours. it’s a cheat lol. i put a gradient map layer over the grayscale painting so that there’s a little bit of color to start. some gradient maps can be applied as is, some need the layer settings adjusted to make it look good. this one, for example, is a (free) gradient map set from the csp assets store that needs you to set the layer opacity to 20% and to set the blending mode to color to achieve this result. in general, i tend to pick which gradient map i want to use based on vibes, or basically whether i want the work to be warmer or cooler, colour-wise. but this does do quite a bit of lifting for the colors in my stuff.

and then, finally, i add the colours. i add flat base colours in an overlay layer. at this stage, i’ve made the character silhouette clear enough that i don’t need to refer to the sketch anymore for what miku looks like. also, the gradient map layer does its magic by making the shading a bit more vibrant than it would’ve been without it. after that i paint over with a new layer to add details like the lace.

and then i put some extra shading on top. basically this is where the ‘better lighting’ happens. again, this isn’t a tutorial, so i’m not here to say what each part of the lighting is, but i’ve labeled which layers do which job. in other works where the lighting within a scene is more defined (from a window, from a small crack in the walls, etc) the glow dodge layer may be more opaque and sharper, but since this isn’t a work with that, the lighting was applied using an airbrush. the linear burn layer is also there to make the whole thing darker so the glow dodge doesn’t end up oversaturating miku. i also usually match the lights to the vibe i want, and use a complementary color for the shadows. so here you can see i have warm colors on the glow dodge layer, but light purple on both the linear burn and multiply layer.

and that’s it for the character—here’s a gif showing how each layer adds to miku! (sorry it’s so toasty)

as for the background, depending on the complexity, it may go through a similar process, or if i can settle with flat image backgrounds, i just go for that. it’s ok to use external image materials. i didn’t have a background in mind for this miku in specific, so i got some default csp materials and threw together something

and that’s about a rough overview of what my process for more finished works looks like! again, art is a fluid process so i never specifically stick to certain steps all the time, and you shouldn’t either. i can probably answer why i’d pick this colour over another in one particular work, but it’s something that kinda has to be learned on a grander scale. i think everyone can already feel what colors work with what atmosphere or what setting, even if they can’t immediately explain why. colors and composition do take some level of experimentation to find what works best!

[marvel-wlw-ah]

The Shining (Casey Novak x Alex Cabot)

A/N: Hello :p This is the first fic that I’ve publicly posted in a very long time and the first fic I’ve ever posted on Tumblr so apologies if the writing, formatting, or any other elements of this post seem a little funky. I thought I’d pick up fic writing again as an outlet (being a full-time university student and a full-time customer service employee puts quite a bit of pressure on a person lol) I was struggling to find inspo until @indiefrans made a post asking for a “songfic of calex”and I thought I’d make my reemergence into writing with this TINY little fic inspired by The Shining by The Neighbourhood. Enjoy!

Word Count: 370

Casey’s favorite thing to do is watch Alex.

The joy she feels that sprouts from the depths of her chest and then reverberates through her body can come from unabashedly gawking at her lover.

Casey and Alex began seeing each other 4 months ago; a celebration after the conclusion of a particularly trying case led to a drunken confession of attraction on behalf of the redhead. Said confession led to an initially perceived one-night stand. This one-night stand turned into bashful, knowing glances in the squad room, countless sleepovers, and late nights of trashy reality television that Casey swears is “peak media.”

The two have yet to classify their relationship. Casey so desperately yearns to be with Alex in a more exclusive manner but the immense trepidation that floods her body at the mere prospect of addressing her feelings and being shot down is enough to paralyze the ache she has to tell Alex how she feels about her.

Casey has found herself to be so irrevocably enamored by Alex. She adores the way Alex’s lips curl ever so slightly when she teases her, she loves the way she can command the utmost reverence from anyone with a mere glare, and most of all she respects the grace and elegance Alex possesses.

Casey thinks Alex shines like diamonds blinding, and all Casey wants to do is succumb to her light.

Tonight is not much different than many of the pairs’ nights; the ADAs, despite their exhaustion, made their trek back to Alex’s brownstone, takeout in tow. After their meal, a shared shower, and making the sweetest love, Casey lies next to the blonde doing her favorite activity: watching.

As Alex peacefully sleeps, Casey thinks about how perfect Alex is. She traces the perfect contours of her face with her eyes and thinks about how though Alex isn’t even trying, she glows.

Tonight was the night Casey swore she would open up to Alex about her desire to take their relationship to another level. But, not much different than many of the pairs’ nights, Casey psyched herself out. Now she lies next to her lover, drowning in doubt.

One night, Casey swears, one of these nights, I’ll shine with you, baby.

A/N: I wrote this in about a half hour and haven’t proof read anything lol. Just wanted to get it out there and get my writing ball rolling😅

[anemonelovesfiction]

Kinktober 5- Daddy Kink

Rotxo x Human! Fem Reader (Eating Out)

Ao’nung x Human! Fem Reader (Fingering)

Spider x Human! Fem Reader (Penetration)

Warnings ⚠️: Eating out, Fingering, P in V, cussing, obviously a daddy kink

I’M BACK BABIES!! After taking my small mental break I feel better! I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to post all of these kinktobers before the end of the month (lol thats crazy) but I will be able to post them into November.

I do ask if possible, please be patient with me, I did end up buying concert tickets for my husband (Bad Bunny) and am planning a trip to see my wifey! So I am picking up extra shifts at work to help pay these off as soon as possible because I like to enjoy my vacations but I also like to be responsible :)

I wanted to challenge myself into writing this as multiple characters because I knew it would be hard for me to write an entire chapter, and I wanted to definitely choose characters that wouldn’t often get written about. I did want to write a Jake x reader story but my previous kinktober day was a jake x reader and I started to feel burnt out. This was my solution.

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Word Count: 2K (for the entirety of the works, will insert individual word counts beside the characters name)

Rotxo (663 words)

I hadn’t purposely planned to have taken the sweetest of metkayina men away from his duties, I’d actually told him that I hadn’t minded waiting until later on in the night when we could come together into a secluded area to do our extra curricular activities, but he’d insisted he had the time to do so now. Laying me down in the sand gently and settling himself between my legs, having them spread widely and settling on his shoulders while fitting himself in, his arms spread to gently caress my nipples and nuzzling his lips in my pussy, feasting like a man who’d been left starving.

“Please, please, please!” I begged as he lazily licked stripes on my pussy, not bothering to do anything else, but the instances where he’s catch my clit with his tongue felt electrifying, I just needed more. I had been desperate to come the moment he’d nuzzled his face into my most intimate place but I figured he knew that, one of his hands sliding from my nipples and down toward my stomach, lightly pushing me back down and preventing my hips from moving against his face.

“Stop squirming, syulang. Did I not say I would take care of you?” He asks in the sweetest of voices and I feel myself start to melt at his tenderness, but frustration starting to boil over.

“You promised it but you are failing.” I realize just how harsh my voice sounded and felt like an idiot for saying that, he always found a way to take care of me, and even if he -willingly- walked away from his duties I knew I was being a bit harsh. I could see the skin of his brows furrow disapprovingly, a small hum filled with a lot of attitude, an ‘oh,really?’ tone coming out from that sound alone. I knew I had to apologize for my behavior.

“Rotxo, I-“

I can’t even finish what I had started saying as I feel his tongue delve inside of me, making me curl my toes immediately, the flat part of the tip of his nose rubbing alongside my clit, letting the slick covered bud move in any direction it chose, every movement making me buck my hips against his face for more, my own hands coming to clutch his forearms at the sudden pleasure ripping through me and a growl coming from hip.

“Daddy!” I call out blindly, no time to think about any of the other names I could have called him and focusing on that one, feeling the coil in my belly start to tighten after being teased earlier.

“Daddy please!” I take one of my hands and tightly wrap it around his hair, using it as leverage as my head tilts, back arching off the sand, craving his nose to push against my bud harsher.

He grabs onto my hips and pulls me closer toward his mouth, another loud moan given to him as a reward as my other hand goes over to grasp his hair harshly, hearing him groan at the feeling as I buck my hips against him.

“I’m coming, I’m fuckin’ coming!” I yell as my hips buck against his tongue, feeling full off it the wet muscle alone, his nose continuing to rub against my clit as he continues eating me out.

“Thank you daddy,” I mumble as I come down from my high and start to catch my breath, starting to feel slightly embarrassed for the nick-name I’d unintentionally given him. Feeling his tongue slide out and moaning at the loss of contact as he licks one final stripe alongside my already sensitive nub.

“You think you can take care of daddy now?” He asks with a smirk but I don’t let that bother me, getting a feeling he enjoyed the new name, sliding my legs off his shoulders as he sits up on his knees, an erection present in his tewng, he definitely enjoyed the nick name.

Ao’nung ( 738 words)

“I am not your enemy, I’m trying to help you.” He stated angrily and by the look of his facial expression I could tell he was about ready to hiss, but I wasn’t in the mood to want to be helped.

“All you’ve done is yell at me and thats you being helpful?” I snap back at him and am tempted to tie this net around his neck at the moment, wanting to stop hearing his annoying voice, hands squeezing harder on it, knuckles turning white in anger. I knew I’d have to get away from him soon, knowing that the moment I’d get too focused on my emotion’s the tears would start, and it was never really because I was sad, I still have no idea why I cry when I’m angry.

“Because you refuse to listen!” He argues back and I could feel the first of the tears sliding down my cheeks, seeing his eyes follow its trail, and his face no longer as angered as he was before.

“I’m leaving.” I huff, not bothering to discard the net I had in my hands and struggling to grasp all of it while stomping off like a child, attempting to prevent myself from having to wipe my eyes at this moment but my vision was starting to get blurry, bringing the fist with the least amount of net closer to my face to wipe it off and seeing the teal boy appearing in front of me again.

“Why are you crying?”

“I’m not crying.” I stated quickly, feeling his hand placed on my chest to stop me from walking further, I groan in frustration and finally look up to make eye contact with him, brows nearly kissing at my rage.

“I am sorry.” He stated and my brows lift in shock, Ao’nung wasn’t really one to apologize until after being told by his parents to do it, Tsireya and Rotxo could influence him part of the time, but I don’t think I’d ever witnessed him apologize on his own volition.

_________

“Do you accept my apology?” He asks quickly before he’s attaching his lips back onto my neck, suckling the skin here and there, knuckles deep in my cunt, the obscene squelching sound would have given us away if we were in any of the populated areas, and I’m thankful he’d dragged me away for this.

“Ungh-“ I grunt as his speed picks up again, my back toward a rock, and my legs spread and shaking as he continues to finger me, forcing me to stand as he thrusts his thick fingers in my cunt. My hands that had been attempting to grasp any piece of the rock to steady myself were now on his shoulders, feeling the warmth of his skin in my palms and fighting another roll of my hips as he nips at my pulse point, making my eyes roll back into my head.

“Look at you~” He coo’s and speeds up in the slightest, I could hear the smirk in his voice, had my eyes not been shut at this moment I’m certain I would have seen it. “Am I making you feel good?” He asks as his thumb finally comes into contact with my hardened clit.

“Yes daddy!” I whine and feel as if the air had been sucked out of my lungs, hips with a mind of their own as I continue grinding on his fingers, wishing it were his cock instead. His fingers don’t stop as I feel him leaning back down toward my neck again.

“Say that again, syulang.” His voice had been deep, how it usually gets when he’s aroused, I gasp at the change of pace as he goes incredibly fast. “Say it and you can come.” He mutters just as his thumb wildly rubs against my clit.

“Please let me come, daddy,” I mutter loud enough to feel his hand wrap around my neck and squeeze lightly.

“Come for daddy.” He mutters the foreign word well as I clench around his fingers, allowing my orgasm to ripple through my cunt as he continues his brutal pace, feeling the tension having left my body.

“I take it you forgive me?” He mutters as I lazily open my eyes and I want to punch the smug look off his face.

“Just because of that, you’re dealing with your own little problem-“ I pointed toward his obvious boner “-by yourself.”

Spider (692 words)

“You sure?” He asks kindly as he looks for any kind of uncertainty in my eyes, always one to check-in with me even when I’d been unable to keep my hands off of him, coming up to cup his face calmly.

“Yes I am sure,” I stated firmly, letting my hand fall off to the side and lay back down comfortably, watching him line himself up and slowly push himself in, moaning at the feeling and greedily inching my hips toward his own pelvis and hearing him groan.

“I missed you~” I gasp as I feel him stretch me in the ways he had before his capture, feeling how well his cock is fitting snug in my cunt and just about coming from the sensation alone, my legs coming to wrap around his waist, heels digging on the plush skin of his bum to feel him deeper than I ever had.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good-“ He manages to grunt out, hands settling onto the blankets on my side, feeling his knuckles lightly poking my sides, knowing he was gripping them harshly.

“Ruin me, please.” I pant out, feeling feral for having to wait so long to have him inside me again, wrapping my arms around his broad back, digging my heels further into his ass and finally feeling the tufts of his pubic hair kissing my clit, jumping lightly at the feel and moaning at the surge of electricity.

“I don’t wanna hurt you-“

“Please daddy, I want you to ruin what belongs to you.” I knew I sounded desperate but at this moment I didn’t care, feeling him sit himself up from the position he’d been in, letting my arms fall toward my sides, a look of disappointment sent his way.

“You’ll be a good girl and hold your thighs for daddy, right?” He asks deeply, feeling my walls flutter around his cock and he nods appreciatively.

“I was hoping you could.” He smirks as he pushes my thighs back toward my stomach, pushing my knee’s together, I take his lead and grasp my own thighs to hold them steady. I watch as he pushes my thighs down for support and flexes his abs to move his hips back, my mouth watering at the sight, all for him to slam himself back in, feeling my walls hug him tight in an effort to keep him in.

“Fuck, did you miss me that much?” He asks right as he slides back out and all I can do is nod, feeling a slap on my thigh and whimpering at the action.

“Yes daddy, I missed you, wasn’t the same without you-“ I admitted and feel him slide back in harsher.

“You touched yourself without my permission?” He questions, grip going from my thighs toward my legs as he rocks himself easily, I couldn’t help but throw my head back at the pleasure he was providing me accompanied by a loud cry.

“M’sorry daddy, but I couldn’t come without you, been so frustrated, haven’t come since the last time we- oh fuck!” I struggle to continue speaking as he changes his angle, hitting my sweet spot perfectly.

“You’ve been long overdue then.” He places his thumb on my clit, maintaining his balance by placing his large hand on my calf, and starting to pump himself incredibly fast, I don’t even bother holding in my moans, pretty sure I’d been squeezing my thighs harshly and not giving a damn anymore.

“Is my good girl getting close?” He asks through grunts of his own, feeling how hard his cock is inside me, his head rubbing alongside my spongey spot, his thumb rubbing tight circles on my hardened nub, I was bound to come soon.

“Y-y-y-yes!” I could barely form that word and I was hoping he didn’t ask me anymore questions.

“Come my love,” He states sweetly and it catches me off guard, but my walls fluttered rhythmically around his cock, feeling my body tensing and finally allowing myself the pleasure of coming for the first time in over a year, my excitement now draining from my body and feeling tired after our activity.

[vendetta-if]

Please don’t take this the wrong way, because I still think you’re writing is incredible and I look forward to every update, but am I the only one who finds Takeshi incredibly weird? Like he’s got a wife and 3 kids and yet he’s still pining over my dad who’s been dead for years now. It’s time to move on dude, come on.

If he was younger and single then I’d understand, but the way it comes off, to me at least, is pretty emotionally unfaithful. It reads like Takeshi views Viktor as “the one who got away” which is kind of a shitty attitude to have when you’re married with kids. We haven’t even met Rins mom yet and I already feel bad for her lol, this whole situation is uncomfortable.

Anyways, sorry for my rambling and if you got offended I really do apologize, I wasn’t trying to be mean. Good luck on your future writing!

I appreciate you being polite when writing this and don’t worry, I’m not offended 😁 I have talked a little bit more about him and his feelings for Viktor and about his marriage with Azami in other asks, but I realize that some of them, I answered like in the early days of this blog being up (boy, time sure does fly because it feels like yesterday to me 😭) and not everyone will have read all of the related asks.

So, everything is a lil bit more complicated for Takashi than what it might seem like on the surface, and of course, I can’t really put all of this history and backstory in the main story because it’s not focused on Takashi, or Rin, or the Aikawa, and thus, I understand why some people end up seeing Takashi in a worse light. This is, of course, not to say that he is perfect. I feel like no one in my story is perfect, even Viktor himself, and I like to keep it that way. But I hope my long-winded explanation in this post will help you get a clearer picture on Takashi and his complicated love life 😭.

And right now in the story, I’ll say that he has actually moved on from Viktor. Sure he still remembers and mourns him around the anniversary of his death, and talking about Viktor (and Yvette) is still a sore spot for him, but as they say, you don’t really forget your first love. Also, he has fixed his relationship with Azami (thus their decision to have the twins) by the time of the main story and they’re at their best right now and I’ll explain more in details below the cut.

I’ll put it under the cut because it’s going to be a long one as I try to summarize Takashi’s and Azami’s history together and some additional lore stuff for those who are interested.

For starter, his marriage to Azami was an arranged one that both of them didn’t really have any say in it and it doesn’t help that both of them didn’t even have time to properly get to know each other by the time they got married. They were also pretty young (around early to mid 20s perhaps? I don’t have my notes open right now).

It was a… politically strategic wedding that Takashi’s father and Azami’s maternal grandfather arranged.

And additional info since I don’t think I have mentioned this anywhere actually, but Azami’s maternal side of family is a Yakuza clan/family back in Japan and by establishing some kind of family relationship with the Aikawas—who focuses their businesses in the US—they hope to keep the door open for possibilities of expanding their own business abroad in the US through the Aikawas. They haven’t really done that, but it’s nice to already have and secure the connection. And vice versa for the Aikawas if they wanna do some business in Japan.

It doesn’t help that Viktor was literally Takashi’s first love and that they’ve known each other since they were kids. So, by the time of his marriage, Takashi didn’t really have enough time to kind of, let go or grow out of his feelings for his first love and he was basically getting married to a stranger.

But to think that this means that he automatically becomes an emotionally distant husband and father is wrong. He spent time talking and hanging out with Azami (mostly initiating them first because Azami is the more introverted and reserved one in their relationship), trying to build a relationship—that should’ve been built naturally in normal marriages—with his wife. It did end up being more like a platonic relationship at first than a romantic one, but still, Azami appreciated that.

He’s also a good, caring, and warm dad for Rin and he did take care of Rin as much as Azami did. I’ve said this before in another ask, but when she got married to what is basically a stranger, Azami expected the worse and Takashi was a very pleasant surprise for her.

I think along the way, Azami fell in love with him for real first, but the fact that Takashi still saw her more of a platonic partner and still had romantic feelings for Viktor at the time… It did put a strain on their marriage.

But both of them didn’t really give up on their marriage and even though it took years, they slowly work on their relationship. It was not an instant progress but over time, Takashi ends up falling in love with Azami as well and that’s also the reason why they had the twins like more than a decade after they had Rin (The twins are still very young in the story right now).

Rin was born because of both of their families’ pressure and expectation, but having the twins is the decision that Takashi and Azami made themselves out of love.

While his feelings for Viktor is still there somewhere in the background, it’s waay weaker and fainter than when he was younger. Right now in the story, I would say he has moved on, although he still remembers his first love occasionally, especially around the time of his death. After all, they say that you can’t really forget your first love.

But yeah, in the story currently, his relationship with his wife is at its best and he’s living happily with his family.

And while a part of his motivation to get Rin to marry MC is in part to kind of fulfilling an impossible dream of his, it is also just for… practical reasons. The fact is that the Aikawas have a little bit more to gain by tying the Morozovs in an alliance based on blood ties than the Morozovs do. The Morozovs have the stronger manpower and raw force/strength and nowadays, they have decent connections too.

I mentioned this before in the past ask about the two families’ history, but their alliance started out because the Aikawas were having a pretty rough time protecting their turf from the other criminal groups and families back in New York. They mostly have power by accumulating and brokering information and connections, but they’re a bit lacking in like raw force and power, and that’s where Grandpa Morozov saw the opportunity for alliance and went to talk with Takashi’s father. And the rest we know how it plays out.

So, yeah… I think that’s all I have to say in this post and I’ll definitely be referring to this post again if I ever get similar asks. I don’t know whether it helps you understand Takashi a little bit more or not, but I do hope it’s not as black and white as it once was 😅