#TAGGING JUST IN CASE ANYONE WOULD FIND IT FUNNY…

[literaphobe]

i want to know the horse line from ur fic so bad

HELLO… here it is with a tiny bit of extra so there’s low key some context maybe

[sandinabottle]

Speaking of the human version of yours. I LOVE your human Ink!!!! Easily one of the BEST i've seen so far! (I love how most human Ink's have vitiligo- it just goes very well with his design)

And the hair!!! I love how curly it is!! Goes very well with the way Comyet draws him in recent drawings (she uses curly-ish for him no?)

AAAAAAAAAA TYSM!!! <33 Ink was genuinely so fun to draw \o/ the lil guy; i love him dearly. I might've stopped doing human designs for a little while now, but I'll definitely pick some other characters back up again to design :]

[crystalflygeo]

How to Warm Up your Dragon ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: ngl this is MOSTLY VERY FLUFFY but it has a veeeery spicy part ehehehehe, praise kink, biting, bit of rough sex, creampie, dirty talk. Reader is technically Fontainian but you can ignore that tbh

notes: Y'ALL THIS HAS BEEN ON MY WIPS SINCE BEFORE FONTAINE IT'S BEEN SOSOSOSOSO LONG I started writing at the start of winter here, now it's summer lmao but hey at least it's winter in the northern hemisphere so... enjoy the snow and dragon man!! Also also... no one guessed what the gift was but Rin was the closest!

Your mother always used to say the way to a man's heart was with food.

you wonder if that applied to archons... er, dragons? adepti?

In any case...

Zhongli has always been a... particular eater. A very refined palate. It's not that he was hard to please, to tell the truth. But he always seemed to have an extra comment, something to add or change to a dish to make it ‘a little more special’.

But you'd quickly find out he had a soft spot for broths and soups, bamboo shoot soup being his particular favorite. Even when it took a lot of hard work and time to prepare, the way he did so was worth it, simply spectacular.

That's why you could almost cry with joy when he happily praised one of your favorite dishes. A fantastic soup d'oignon passed down on your family. Nothing to add, no extras or corrections, he'd enjoy it to its fullest talking about the creamy texture and unique flavor of the cheese so different from those found in Liyue.

So, today you decided to prepare it. Nothing better to warm up on this chilly season, and besides you'd just received a shipment of ingredients from your family.

The rhythm of a knife on a cutting board fills the air, along with a delicious smell. You finish slicing the onions into thin strips and add them to the pot at the stove, humming lightly while stirring. You really hope nothing would keep your dear Zhongli too busy today, so he could be just in time to enjoy this while still fresh and warm.

You turn off the other burner as the beef stock had already warmed up, and start washing some dishes while keeping an eye on the food. It is… rather amusing just how domestic this all feels. Not too long ago you were adventuring over Teyvat, facing off all sorts of crazy dangers, exploring, and never stopping in one place and now… now this feels like home.

And that is without taking into account who your fiancé even is. The former Geo Archon. You shake your head with a light chuckle. It’s still so weird to think of such an imposing figure from legends to be so… him.

You dry your hands and start to pour the broth on the now-golden onions, stirring.

Zhongli is sweet, caring, attentive, wise, with just the right words at the right time. Admittedly a bit airheaded at times, funny when he wants to be. A refined gentleman through and through unlike anyone you’d ever met.

And he loves you.

And you’re engaged.

Warmth rises up to your cheeks along with a small smile as you lower the heat and start grating the cheese.

You heard sounds at the front door and then steps. Oh, early today. Zhongli walks up to you with a smile, greeting you with a kiss on the cheek, his hands resting at your waist as he leans in from over your shoulder. “Welcome home, Li.”

“Thank you” He replies in that deep suave voice. “That smells good my love, would you like some help finishing?”

You shake your head a little. “Please, there’s no need, you just got home. Go take a bath and unwind a little, I’ll finish here and we’ll eat.”

Zhongli looks as if he’s about to say something but simply nods. “Hmm, alright then.” He pulls you a little closer in his embrace, as if he’d missed your contact, your scent. Zhongli inhales deeply, tension seeping off of his body and he gives a soft kiss at your shoulder before almost regretfully pulling away. You chuckle a little and stir the pan.

How domestic and loving indeed.

…

Later when the food is ready and served, he returns to the small kitchen dressed in much more casual and comfier robes. Your eyes linger a little on the small expanse of exposed skin at his neck and chest and then stop at the way his long hair is tied up in a bun.

“Not washing your hair today?” You ask casually, taking your seat.

 “I… Perhaps I have gotten rather used you doing it. I simply didn’t feel like it.”

You can’t help the short laugh that escapes you, even as you try to cover it a little. “Is this your way of saying you wanted me to bathe with you?”

His golden eyes twinkle. “I would certainly enjoy indulging in that more often.”

Your cheeks flush and you avert your eyes.

He takes a spoonful of soup and hums, closing his eyes to appreciate the flavors. “The finest ingredients cooked with true expertise. Simply divine, my love, thank you.”

“Flatterer.” You say, a little embarrassed but he can see right thought it, your little grin, the little shift in your posture.

“I am simply stating the truth.” He replies and continues eating. You can see his shoulders relax and the small satisfied smile at the warm food, it makes you a little giddy as you start eating as well.

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

bundling up during winter was obvious, right?

Putting on layers and layers of clothes. And true, perhaps Liyue didn't get as cold as other nations such as Fontaine, Mondstadt or of course Snezhnaya, but maybe it was exactly for that reason the temperature drop seemed to affect everyone all the more. Besides, the people would take any excuse to show off their fancy coats, scarves and other cold-climate outfits.

Zhongli naturally wore many layers, and he did mention once or twice he wasn't as affected by the cold. Yet, his business partner had gifted him a thick snezhnayan cloak.

The thing was entirely ridiculous, too bulky with a fluffy overtop, the colors dark and cool not matching Zhongli at all.

And yet he'd used it! (Only twice... but still)

You were not jealous, not at all.

You just wanted to... give him something he'd also enjoy and wear around, yes. Something personal, something he’d like and look at and remember you.

But what?

Ugh, it’s not like you were really well versed in sewing. Back at home you’d even had some machinery for that, but here in Liyue… you wracked your brain thinking what could you give him. He had quite a few elegant outfits, fitting him perfectly and enhancing all his attributes, all personally tailored by one of his late Yaksha so they held immense sentimental value as well… how could you compete with that?!

Right, right, it was not a competition. You sigh. Zhongli will probably be happy with anything you give him, but still…

An idea pops into your head and you can’t help but chuckle. Oh, it’s so silly… but maybe…

Simple enough, personal, something he’d use during the cold season only around you. Could work, you decided as you pick up your things to go visit the textile shop.

If nothing else, it could at least get a good chuckle out of Zhongli, right?

And so, for a few days you work on your little project. Turns out sewing was indeed a little harder than expected but you were trying your best. The kind lady who’d sold you some excellent wool had also given you some tips and they proved to be most useful indeed!

Regrettably you didn’t exactly have the right measurements so you more or less eyeballed them. Eh. It’ll be fine…

Zhongli almost came close to finding out too, though you were inconspicuous enough. You’re sure he suspects something.

“It will all be worth it, it will all be worth it…” You mumble to yourself with a frown as you finish trimming one of the stitches. Your fingers hurt.

…

“Li! I have something for you!” You exclaim happily, hands behind your back holding the wrapped-up item you had worked so hard on. An excited glow on your smile and bright eyes.

“Oh? Am I going to finally see what you’ve been guarding to secrecy this past week?” He replies coolly with a knowing smile, amusement dancing on his tone as he places his teacup down.

Nothing escapes him.

“Yes” You present him the gift, your hands then fidget nervously, having nothing else to do now. “I hope you like it! It’s… my first time doing something like this… i-it may not be that good, it’s kind of silly but-”

“Darling please do not fret, I would love anything you give me.”

Your shoulders relax.

Zhongli unwraps the paper and finds a rich dark brown fabric staring back at him, he picks the item and opens it, trying to gauge its shape, thick wool, a little rough around the edges but you did mention it was your first try and he is honored enough you’d make such effort for him.

However…

What is it exactly?

He turns the item around trying not to show too much confusion on his face as to insult you or make you feel bad, it looks like… a severely oversized legwarmer?

“It’s…” You start, feeling a little shy and silly once more. “…for your tail.”

Recognition shines in his eyes and he blinks at the item. 

“You- I know you like to let loose a little around the house and let your illuminated beast features show, I love you tail too but I know… the scales get cold easily a-and usually we just bundle up with a blanket but I thought-”

“I love it.”

You stop running your mouth as soon as he utters those words, Zhongli looks at you with a gentle calm and your heart could melt at the sincerity in his expression. “No one had ever made something like this for me.”

He stands and unfurls the item, then, in a flash of gold his dragon tail manifests, majestic as ever and swaying lazily, the tuft of fur at the end flickering with each move. He maneuvers a little to slip the ‘tailwarmer’ on and though it sags a little, much to your relief it at least fits nicely. There is a yellow diamond pattern near the base that you’d started working on but deemed too difficult for a first try. It was a cute little detail though, maybe next time.

“Warm and cozy.” He chuckles and you beam at him, before letting out a squeak as said dragon tail curls around you, pressing your forward against his chest.

“Thank you, my love.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead.

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

The air is hot and heavy as soft moans and grunts fill the room.

Well, this was certainly a way to warm up… and get some good cardio.

You pant and squirm on the plush surface of a heavenly mattress as the familiar weight of the ex-archon descends upon you. His arms going from a golden orange hue to a deep charcoal, lines of gold thrumming across his skin, glowing softly in periodic pulses up strong muscular arms. Golden horns rise from soft brown hair curled at the tips, two on each side like a crown, while a powerful scaly tail wraps around your calf holding your leg up, spread.

This is Rex Lapis. Morax. Any other number of names he had. This is the Geo Archon.

“Zhongliii!” You whine, his hands caressing your body, claws teasing along your skin, pinching a nipple, fangs grazing your collarbone and a long serpentine tongue licking a hot stripe across your neck.

The head of his cock teases at your entrance, already rock hard and burning like a brand, your hips canting for more. For him to finally fill you, to feel his thick overwhelming girth stretch you, breed you… you want to be filled so full it overflows, so that it dribbles down your thighs and ass in thick, slick rivulets of his love.

“Patience my love.”

You whimper and jerk at that, about to cry out for him again when he rolls his hips and sinks in your warm hole. Your breath catches in your throat as your head throws back on the soft feather pillows.

He pushes into you inch by inch, carving a space for himself with a soft rumbling groan. His lips seek yours as his hands slide to your hips and press hard enough to bruise. His kiss devouring, all-consuming with need as he bottoms inside you, hips pressed flush.

Gods you feel so full, stretched and filled every inch and then some, and he doesn’t allow you a moment to pause and adjust either. A beast of a man in the best of ways, he withdraws halfway, only to slam forward in a fluid firm thrust.

“Mng-! Ah!”

“Mine. All mine. S-so warm and thigh- nghh…”

His pace starts slow, his voice alone enough to drive you crazy with how deep, carnal, animalistic it is against your neck. Sharp canines teasing the elegant column of your throat as he moves.

“Oh! so good… Li… f-faster… faster ple-ahhn!” Your voice pitches high as you babble, pleasure coiling on your gut.    

“As- you desire…” Strained words still sounding like the very embodiment of sex, his voice so sinfully deep, so erotic it washes over you like liquid silk, like molten gold, only heightening the sensations of his quickening pace. In and out, in and out, skin slapping on skin. “You’re… you’re so perfect for me-”

You take him so well, your legs spread wide, your back arched, your insides molded to his length, enveloping him in the most mind-blowing of heats. The bed creaking as Zhongli delivers another powerful thrust, hitting a sweet spot deep within you and making you elicit a sharp keening sob of a moan. Your hands scrambling from the sheets to seek purchase at his back, curled up under his arms to scratch viciously trying to hold onto something, anything as he drives into you thrust after thrust after thrust-    

“I’m- I’m gon-ahnn! Z-Zhongli… ooohh!”

Fuck you are close. So, so close…

He nips at the soft spot between your neck and shoulder. “Almost there… little one.” He huffs between strained grunts and you whimper at the pet name. Golden claws sink on the bedsheets, gripping thigh for leverage as he moves faster, frantic, hips like pistons he fucks into you like a wild animal, the bed rocking, shaking with each thrust. “C-close…”

You mewl and moan, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore but just feel the hot burning pleasure, his warm puffs of breath on your skin, your sweating bodies dampening the sheets and you desperately want to feel his warm seed inside you, filled to the brim with his creamy cum.

“Pleasepleaseplease i-in! In-s-ahh!” You come with a sharp cry, vision blurring, muscles clenching, your insides squeezing around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

It was enough, the tipping point for the dragon, his thrusts shallowing out until he ruts as deep as he can and shoots his load inside you with a guttural groan. Thick spurts pumping inside you before it pools out around his own cock, leaking from your body until there’s nothing left to give.  

Everything is hot… so hot… the air heavy and musky with the scent of sex…

…

Zhongli slumps softly atop your body after what feels like ana eternity, his cock still comfortably nestled within your slick walls, cushioned by fluttering muscles. You lay beneath him, sweaty and shivering, breathless, chest raising and falling rapidly in small gasps as you struggle to catch your breath but oh, how you took his away…

 Beautiful, truly… your half-lidded eyes glazed over, barely able to open admits your exhaustion, but still able to whimper soft little moans as he trails fluttering reverent kisses along your neck and collarbone. Soft, chaste, loving and tender touches.

“Ahhn… mmm…” He chuckles softly at the endearing sounds you make as he eases out of you, the subtle friction enough to sent fire to your nerves, followed by a strange emptiness that mellows down to buzzing contentment.

He lies to the side and pulls you close towards his chest, his tail finally letting your now sore leg rest, uncoiling from it to curl around you both, you settle there with a sigh, eyes sliding shut. “So good for me.” Zhongli gently brushes some hair away from your face and places a kiss at the crown of your head, resting his chin there. “Rest now, dear.”

“Mn.”

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

You smile as Zhongli places the two steaming teacups on the table before scooting over and welcoming him with the blanket surrounding you. He settles on the couch with you cuddling close and passing the book on your hands to him. Your fingers brush and he sets the book on his lap before taking your hands on his, cradling them close to his face before blowing a warm breath on them. You blush and let out a little airy laugh.

“What is this? Dragon breath to keep me warm?”

He hums against your skin, piercing golden eyes staring up at you. “No, just my love for you.” He kisses your knuckles and fingers.

“You…” You mumble, averting your gaze.

He chuckles and kisses your wrist then before leaning in close and kissing your cheeks, your forehead, your nose, anywhere he can reach.

“Ngah, wait you affectionate big lizard!” You squirm and he laughs fully now.

“Just seeking my adorable fiancée’s warmth” He nuzzles onto your neck, kissing there too and making you yelp. “Gorgeous.”

“A-Am not!”

“So precious when you get all shy and flustered.” He gets your jaw this time when you move, so close to your lips.

“Stop! You menace…” You pout and this time you cup his face, staring for a moment at his handsome features, your thumb brushing close to one of the red markings under his eyes.

This man. This dragon. This god.

Oh, how you love him. He warms up your heart.

“Here, I’ll warm you up proper…” You whisper softly, pulling him close and tilting your head to slot your lips together.

Just as you warm up his.

[ceilidho]

prompt: IKEA soap/reader fic. PART 2. (read part 1 here) tags: dubcon

-

There’s a photo of you taped up on the inside of his locker. 

The glimpse you catch of it is quick. Not like you aren’t meant to see it, but more like Johnny’s so unconcerned with whether you see it or not that he doesn’t bother to make a show of it. Just reaches into his locker to grab his lunch and shuts it while you’re still gaping at the polaroid of someone that looks suspiciously like you in your store uniform. You hear someone clear their throat and you glance up, flinching when you meet Johnny’s eyes.

“Missing me already?” he teases, winking. “I’ll be back on the floor as soon as possible. ‘Promise, hen.”

“It’s not—” 

He’s already out the door and on the way to the lunchroom before you’re able to get the rest of your sentence out. 

Johnny seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re about to spurn his advances. Any other day he would have stuck around to listen to the rest of your sentence, but when he has an inkling that those words will be tinged by the flavour of rejection, he’s quick to book it. You privately have to admit it’s not a terrible strategy. It’s not often that you’re able to get the words out. 

It’s one of those rare shifts where you’re clocking in later than Johnny, missing his lunch break. Small mercies. It doesn’t mean much because your schedules still overlap a significant amount, but it does mean that you won’t be forced to choke down your lunch while Johnny sits opposite you at the lunch table and stares you down the entire half hour. 

“Wait, that was so fucking cute,” someone says from behind you. You turn on your heel to find a coworker staring at Johnny’s locker, properly enchanted by whatever she saw. Practically swooning. 

“What is?”

“Didn’t you see the picture he has of you? In his locker?” She says it with emphasis, giving you a significant look. 

“Yeah…I…don’t you think it’s a bit…like, weird?” you ask her, making sure to keep your voice low in case Johnny is still around the corner. You can’t help the way you glance down the hallway.

She frowns. “It’s cute. He’s like, smitten with you. I’ve never seen him with a crush on anyone before and I’ve worked with him for over a year. I think it’s kind of nice. Do you not like him or something?”

“Well, I just…we aren’t even dating and I think…I think he even has a photo of me as his lock screen—”

“Because if you aren’t interested in him, you should let him down now. It’s not fair of you to just string him along, you know. He’s a really good guy.”

You’re not sure about the whole good guy thing. Johnny acts like a nice guy most of the time, but you’ve had the unfortunate luck in getting to experience the other side of him.

The problem lies in the fact that Johnny is, you think, a genuinely likeable guy to everyone else. It’s not like your coworkers are all collectively wrong in their opinion of him—he really is an excellent coworker. A good sport, a funny guy; he lends a hand whenever someone needs help. He helped Jeff move two weeks ago, drove Daryl to the airport last Saturday, and looked after Sonya’s cat while she was away on vacation that one time. 

It’s with you that his good-time nature evaporates; his lazy, drawled predilection for joking around and indulging himself and others in a good ribbing replaced by a weird, manufactured kindness. Almost sickly sweet. He lays it on so thick around others that they think you experience the same friendship with Johnny that the rest of them get to enjoy. 

Not so.

None of them catch the way he’s always hovering, always staring at you. Eyes half-lidded; bedroom eyes in the middle of your shift, in the middle of the workplace. 

None of your coworkers are around when you’re at the register one day and Johnny takes his break to make a couple purchases, coming to your cash with a basket full of chocolate, wine, condoms, body butter, and batteries. No one except him notices the way you pause at the last item.

“Dinnae ken if your vibrator was rechargeable or not,” he says when you look at him funny, a big grin stretched across his face. Blue eyes gleaming almost feverishly. “Thought I’d be prepared either way.”

You scan his items in silence. When you hand him his bag, you try not to shudder when he purposefully glances his hand over yours. 

Worse are the days when Johnny comes in as a customer, the days when he’s off the schedule. When he shouldn’t even be at the store at all. No one notices the way he pesters you the entire time he’s in the store, insisting on you helping him with his purchases. If a coworker does happen to notice his presence (and how could they not when he’s such a formidable presence in any room, when he almost glows from the energy stockpiled in his body with nowhere else to go), he’ll make polite conversation, just long enough to not seem rude, before shifting his attention back to you. 

His conversation borders on interrogation. He asks you about your childhood and your friends and whether you have a partner or any previous partners. He makes you follow him to the bed section where he tries out all the mattresses and then asks you increasingly inappropriate questions like what mattress you have, what it feels like, how you sleep at night, what you wear to bed. 

When you rebuff him one too many times, he’s not shy about telling you off. 

“Ye just need a good fuck ta sort ye out,” Johnny snarls when you brush off another invite out to lunch one day. It’s not often that he loses his temper with you, so his anger makes your eyes widen, your pulse pick up. During morning shift assignments, he’d corralled your manager into pairing the two of you up on curbside pick-up orders, meaning that you’ve been stuck with him for hours, nowhere else to go. 

“Excuse me?” you say, voice going up a decibel. 

He leans across the front of the cart loaded with flowerpots and gardening tools. “I get it, hen. No one at home ta play with your pussy, huh? No choice but ta come into work all pent up and frustrated—”

“This is in like, the outer Hebrides of ‘none of your business’—”

“—clit’s probably all swollen too. Fuck.” He breathes out heavily through his nose, eyes darkening. “No wonder you’re always pissed off. I’d be too if I dinnae have a little replacement pussy at home.”

“You’re the reason I’m upset in the first place, Johnny.”

“Aw, I ken, bonnie,” he says with a pout, eyebrows slanting down like he really, truly pities you, the gesture immediately contradicted by his next words. “Promise I’ll make it better. Wanna meet outside my truck in a half hour?” 

You storm off before it comes to blows. Not that it’d ever be a fair fight. Johnny would probably hold you away with his palm against your head while you swung at him uselessly. You try not to think of that too often. Of him toying with you. Most of your interactions feel like that these days. Like he’s a big cat holding your tail down when you try to scramble away. 

When you beg your manager to switch shift assignments, the look you get could wilt flowers. It’s not completely your fault, even if your request is a bit inconveniencing. Johnny has your coworkers and management so wrapped around his finger that no one can even hazard a guess as to why you might be uncomfortable around him. 

It’s the only reason you haven’t complained to HR yet. There are channels and protocols for dealing with his behaviour, but watching people practically trip over themselves to please him reminds you that the likeliest outcome would be them transferring you to another store. It just doesn’t seem worth it.

You don’t think about how frazzled his words leave you for the rest of your shift. You don’t think about it because there’s nothing to think about. 

You know from the second that your manager reassigns you to women’s apparel that you’ve probably made a mistake. Customers buzz around you like gnats, like swarms of flies, and it’s only natural that you’d be compelled to swat a few. You hold on to the fraying edges of your patience with little finesse. About halfway through your shift, you get a stern talking to from your floor supervisor and put on an extra long break. You’re no less irritated when you get back though, somehow still agitated and snappy. 

Big hands clamp over your shoulders and squeeze like he’s giving you a massage, thumbs digging into the grooves of your upper back. He ignores the way you tense up.

“Hen, you’re making the customers uncomfortable with all your huffin’ and puffin’,” he whispers into your ear, a light chuckle falling out with his words. Amused by your attitude this time instead of ticked off. “If ye want, I could take ye ta the back room ta loosen ye up a bit. Make your day a little better. Dinnae think anybody will even notice if we dip away for a bit—’sides management will probably send me a gift basket if ye come back perky after a good shag.”

You shrug him off to go clock out, ignoring the way he chuckles as you storm off. No one knows if you go home and wear out the battery in your vibrator while thinking about Johnny’s words. Thinking about Johnny guiding you to his truck with a palm flat on your low back, pinkie teasing just under the waistband of your pants, before laying you out across the backseat and climbing on top of you.

You come when you think about how he’d have to keep the door open to fuck you in his car.

Unfortunately, you’re more than familiar with his sweet side as well. 

On your birthday, he comes in early with a sheet cake and organizes the employees so that the breakroom is dark when you come in. The entire staff is there when you switch on the lights, shouting your name and happy birthday, decked out in party hats and blowing into noisemakers.

It catches you off guard. Hits you right in the solar plexus and leaves you winded. You stand in the middle of the room like you’re under a spotlight and that spotlight is Johnny’s stare burning a hole in your head. For once, it doesn’t rankle. It leaves you feeling light, feathery, like floating down to earth. A coworker hands you a noisemaker and you smile until your eyes crinkle when you blow into it. 

You’re in a good enough mood that you don’t argue when he insists on sitting beside you. He got you the cake after all. Maybe it’s the least he deserves. Your goodwill lasts until Johnny tries to feed you a piece of cake with his fork; he winds up getting cake smushed all over your cheek when you turn your head away. 

“Johnny, ‘m not a baby,” you complain, wrinkling your nose when cake and icing slide down your face. “I can feed myself. This is so gross.”

“Shucks, hen, lemme get that. Shouldnae have turned your head,” Johnny curses, leaning over to scoop it off with his fingers. He holds them out to you, an offering. “Here ye go, kitty.”

You stare, horrified, until he shrugs like ‘suit yourself’ and pops them into his own mouth. Then drags the same spit covered fingers over your cheek again to keep cleaning you up. 

You can tell that it’s hopeless to complain by the way your coworkers giggle and gossip, eyes drawn to the two of you. Maybe it would be better if you were transferred. You only have so many ‘I’m not his work wife’s left in you. Something’s bound to give. You have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to be you. 

On the walk to your car after your shift, which Johnny insists on doing like he does every time the two of you work a closing shift together, he jokingly asks if you’ve gotten your birthday spanks. He says it in that same awkward joking tone, just a bit too excited, staring at you too eagerly. Unblinking. Tuts his tongue when you tell him you’ve never heard of that before. 

You jolt and squeak at the pop on your ass when he insists on opening the door to your car and helping you in. The betrayed look you shoot him hardly penetrates through his shit-eating grin. 

“See ye tomorrow, kitty,” Johnny calls out, walking backwards away from you to where his truck is parked just a few spots away from yours. You think he would’ve parked right next to you if you hadn’t chosen a spot conveniently between two other cars. “More where that came from.”

Your hands shake against the steering wheel your whole drive home. Dreading tomorrow’s shift.

[anxious-witch]

I apologize for irritable tone of this post, but a portion of this fandom is starting to irritate me, so let's analyze catwin through the lens of how age works for ghosts and how situational irony is used in a scene where Edwin and Niko talk about kissing.

Let's start with age. Right at the beginning, when Emma asks Charles and Edwin to take her case, she tries to play it off as her being just a little girl. This is what Edwin replies:

And before anyone jumps the gun and says: "He said SUPERNATURALLY speaking! He is still physically 16!"

Okay. Let's unpack that. Considering how for people who are immortal, which ghosts essentially are, and as such unchanging, that isn't quite a proper argument, is it? Because the way I see it, there are two ways someone could argue this. Either your gripe is about the Cat King finding Edwin attractive despite him physically being a 16 year old or your gripe is that Edwin is mentally 16 and as such, cannot consent.

If it's the first, I think that argument is quite lacking here, because we know the Cat King is aware Edwin is older than 16. And as someone who is an adult and often gets mistaken for a minor, I think the idea that you can just always tell someone's age by looking at them quite funny. Also, by that logic, I shouldn't be able to consent either, because people generally gauge my age to be between 16-18, when I am in my mid 20s.

If it's the second, your point doesn't work because being frozen at 16 would mean being unable to learn and develop firther than what you did by that age. Which we know is false for ghosts, especially Edwin. He changes and develops constantly throughout the s1, and we have a front row seat to that! Human brains aren't clear cut, and before you jump under the post to say your brain isn't fully develop until age 25, I will kindly tell you that human brains, in fact, never stop changing and developing. And that experiences, traumas, etc hugely impact developments of individuals.

One argument I can sort of is perhaps Edwin and Charles having somewhat stunted emotional growth, but as we also see throughout the season, that has more to do with them stagnanting rather than them being unable to emotionally develop. And frankly, I know bunch of adults with the same issues, so.

Now for the "But Edwin said he doesn't want to kiss the Cat King!" argument. How about we look at what Edwin says before that, huh?

He says he has never been kissed and didnt understand the appeal, until recently. And you cannot tell me it wasn't the Cat King who made him realize it. Yes, he wanted to kiss Charles and I am not saying he didn't like Monty too, but if it wasn't for the Cat King getting physically close to him and playing into his desires, he wouldn't have realized that he too, feel physical attraction!

As for him saying "Absolutely not!" When Niko asks him if he wants to kiss the Cat King, I think that's laughable argument to saying "Well, see, he didn't want him!" Because first of all, characters can lie. Edwin most certain, lies about things he wants, both to himself and others, up until pressed.

Besides, if I am not mistaken, given English isn't my first language and I learned this stuff in a different language, this is also called situational irony, aka, someone say something won't/can't happen and then it happens. This is very often seen in romance plots too. A characters says they hate someone and then they end up dating them.

Think of Lizzy Benett and Darcy

And then she goes ahead and married him later, once her opinion of him changes. It's a classic romance trope!

Similarly, Edwin says he doesn't want to kiss the Cat King and what happens at the end? Oh yeah!

He kisses the Cat King. Shocker.

But yeah just like. Y'all are free to not like the ship for whatever reason, but for the love of god, stop making up stuff that's just blantantly untrue. There is an "anti catwin" tag for a reason, if you truly cannot stop yourself from commenting, but in all honestly, you could just enjoy your own ship without putting other ppl's ships down. Cat King is not perfect by any means, but this isn't a predator type of situation. I and many others have addressed the whole "coercion" bit quite a few times so I won't get into it again, but these two arguments I have seen pop up and I just had to address it. Thank you for coming to my ted talk

[yapperblog]

Thought you'd hate me

but instead you called and said I miss you

Tags: unresolved feelings, a little big of angst, she fell first but he fell harder, smut +18 only, softdom!joost, fem!reader, fingering, riding, unprotected PinV.

RPF below don't interact if you are not comfortable with that

You sigh as you find yourself in front of his door. Again. In the message he sent at 3:15 AM he told you the door will be open, but you still ring the doorbell. After no one opens it, you feel a slight nervous shiver down your spine. You decide to leave the dilemma of your weak morals for tomorrow, you are already here, might as well see where the night leads you. You reach for the handle and open it.

"Hello?" you say as you enter his apartment.

You turn to twist the lock on the door, a familiar smell envelops you. Not much has changed since the last time you've been here. More often you have been rushed past his front door, already tangled in a kiss, tearing at each others clothes. This time you weirdly want to look around and take it all in, you are still not sure if this is the last time you walk past his doorstep, but you want to remember it.

You and Joost have a messy history. It all started so simple, you met through a mutual friend and found out you two have a lot in common. As soon as you started talking, you knew something special could brew from this. It was so easy to be next to him, every bit of attention from him was intoxicating.

You also found out you live a walking distance from each other, which led to you two hanging out more often outside of the friend group. After one drunk night out, just the two of you, one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap, hands wrapped in each other's hair, having the best sex of your life. Your relationship turned into friends with benefits, never crossing into anything more even after a year. You did everything a couple would do together, but never put a label on it. Due to him traveling a lot and focusing on music, you felt he didn't want a serious relationship, so when he asked what you thought about dating, you just brushed it off, not wanting to be a burden to him.

You did this often. You were so overprotective of your feelings, you wouldn't let anyone near, in case they hurt you emotionally, which from your past experiences - they usually did. So you learnt to end things before you get too attached. You knew it was too late, he was the best partner you've had. So thoughtful, caring, funny, incredible sex, but you could just not open up to him the same way he did to you. It hurt, but gradually you made an effort to see him less, you would decline his invitations to hang out, until one day you just simply ignored his message to come over.

Until today, when you saw him again at a friend's birthday party. You knew he got back from tour already and would be at that party. You were nervous to see him again, but to skip it would be even worse. You immediately spotted him, even in a room full of people, somehow you could always tell where he was, your eyes just gravitated towards him. When eventually, after mingling with different people, you ended up in the same circle, he made it seem so easy to see you again, like it was no big deal. You felt a sting of pain, but you couldn't be upset, you were the one to push him away. So, you came to a conclusion that you made the right decision, if it is so easy for him to move on, it is better this way. You stayed until the end of the party, everyone got pretty drunk, your heart still felt heavy knowing he is close, but at the same time so far away, and it was all your fault for pushing away the one good thing you had.

You got back home around 3 AM. You were ready for bed, until you got a notification. You checked your phone and saw it was a text from Joost.

"Come in." his voice brings you back to your current situation. You notice a warm glow from the nightstand lamp coming from around the corner, where his bedroom is.

Your legs start walking as if by themselves, you don't remember making that decision. His voice just draws you in.

You stop by the doorframe, leaning against it. You take in the sight of him. Only one nightstand lamp is turned on, you remember your shared hatred of overhead big light. He is laying on the bed, his legs swaying off the side of it. His jeans are halfway unzipped, low on his hips, the belt undone and shirt half unbuttoned, like he couldn't decide what to take off first and gave up on both. He must be as drunk as you are now, he should look like a mess, but he doesn't. He always managed to look clean, one of the many things you liked about him. He turns his head to look at you and you notice a cigarette hanging from his lips.

He got into a bad habit of smoking in bed, you used to joke he would end up living in one of those houses that have yellow walls from the constant smoking.

"You should start locking your door." you say, your arms crossed, leaning against the door frame. You want to look nonchalant, like your heart isn't trying to get out of your chest.

"I don't usually leave it open." he says, his voice raspy, like it usually got when he was drunk. "Only on special occasions." he puts one hand behind his head not to crane his neck to see you better.

"Have a lot of special occasions?" you ask. You do wonder if he was with anyone in the time you haven't seen each other.

He huffs in amusement and turns to look at the ceiling. You think he looks so pretty, just laying there.

"Come here." his voice barely above a whisper, but he knows you will hear. You always do, sometimes he thinks you can hear his thoughts, his deepest secrets.

You don't move from your place, your hands crossing tighter on your chest. The distance you want to keep breaks his heart, he needs to stop this feeling and distract himself. He reaches for the lighter in the pocket of his jeans.

"Joost, open the window at least." you say softly before he lights the cigarette. It is not your place to tell him what to do, but you still care.

He smiles and remembers your joke about the yellow walls. Always so quick with a funny remark. He misses it. He sits down on the bed, his movements slow. He zips up his pants and puts the belt back on, his hands fumbling trying to put it through the loops. With his shirt still half unbuttoned, he stands up and walks past you, around the bed and heads towards the window. There is a chair next to it already, you notice a sketchbook you got him on the windowsill by an ashtray. You never saw this little routine of his, you imagine him drawing next to an open window, a cigarette in his hand. You want to flip through it.

He sits on the chair, lighting a cigarette. "Will you come in now?"

You finally walk in and head towards the bed. You prop yourself against the bedframe. His bed is as comfortable as you remember, you even bought the same duvet and pillow set he has, but you swear it still doesn't feel as good his. Maybe you expected it to come with that familiar aftershave smell, which of course it didn't.

"What did you want to talk about?" you break the silence.

"Us." he says quickly. Always honest and straight to the point.

"What about us?" your eyes focus on him. His legs are crossed, a light breeze coming from the window tussling his hair.

"You have been ignoring me and I want to know why. I really don't understand what I did wrong."

"I told you we should have ended this a long time ago." you did tell him this in the last time message you sent him. But he wasn't going to accept that, so he walked to your apartment, when you opened the door, you could barely even look at him. Very abruptly you told him you need to stop seeing each other, it's not healthy for the both of you. He was so confused at the sudden change, he couldn't even come up with anything to say in defence. He thought you must have met someone else, you haven't promised each other anything, but he felt betrayed. So he turned around and left.

"Why did you come then?" he asks, looking at you intensely.

"I knew you were drunk after the party and would pass out on the bed, I didn't want you to sleep with the front door open." you come up with an excuse. He has always been like an open book with you, however you are now doubting yourself if you've read him correctly. It was you who was scared of the relationship and deeper feelings, not him. You realise the huge mistake you made all those months ago.

"You know..." he takes another drag of the cigarette. "I really used to think I had you figured out. And then you pulled that surprise on me. Really took me for a spin." he points to his head with the hand that has a cigarette in between his two fingers.

"Have to keep you on your toes, you know. You always said you wouldn't like the simple life." you try to joke. The room is silent for a second, you are worried, did you overstep, will he find it inappropriate. But he laughs with his whole chest, the tension resolving a little bit. If you can joke about it, he feels he still has a chance to fix things out between you.

"So why did you come?" his voice more relaxed now.

You both know the answer, he wants to hear you say it, but you are willing to drag this game a little longer. "You've got a great view from your apartment. I missed it."

He laughs again. You realise it might be your favorite sound in the world. He blows the smoke out of the window, then turns to look back at you. "You missed the view?"

"Yeah." you try to keep a straight face.

"It is a nice view." he looks out of the window. "I don't think you see it well from the bed though." he puts a cigarette in between his lips. "You should come closer to enjoy it." he beckons you closer with his hand. He tries to act cool, to hide the fact that you also still make him nervous, like it's the first time you met and he is trying so hard to win you over, to see you smile at something he said.

You stand up from the bed, and slowly make your way towards the window, you cross your arms to shield yourself from the breeze and lean in against the windowsill admiring the view. You can faintly see your own window from here, you wonder if he ever tried to see you. You can feel him next to you even without looking at him, your legs almost touching. You can almost feel the heat radiating from him, always so warm, even on coldest nights. You miss the feeling of him under your hands.

Slowly as if careful not scare you away, like a cat, he stands up and comes to stand next to you. Neither of you speak for a while, enjoying a silent night, it feels so natural to be next to each other. The months apart and previous tension slowly melting away. He notices you shiver.

He stubs out the cigarette in an ashtray and stands up to reach for a hoodie hanging on the back of the chair. "Here, put this on."

You turn to face him and he puts the hoodie around your shoulders. His hands brushing your exposed shoulders and arms in the process. A sigh leaves you, which he catches.

"Better?" he asks.

"I think this is the first time you put more clothes on me in this room and not the other way around." you joke.

"You are probably right." he laughs and you feel him physically relax. Humour has always been a common ground for the both of you to get more comfortable.

"I missed this." he confesses, his voice quiet. "I missed us." he reaches to put a strand of your hair behind your ear. As soon as he touches you, he studies your face, trying to see if it's okay.

You touch his hand. "I miss it too." you say and turn to look outside of the window again, you feel so stupid for the way you handled things. He moves to stand behind you, slowly wraps him arms around your waist, giving you space to retreat if you want. You don't. It feels so good to have him close again. You lean into his touch. He puts his head on your shoulder, next to your face.

"How did it take us so long to find each other again?" he asks, happy you didn't deny his embrace.

"I'm sorry" you say and you mean it with your whole heart.

He moves to sit back down on the chair and you turn to look at him. "So, is the view everything you remembered?" he says with a smirk.

"It might have become even better." you say and walk up to him, he spreads his legs to let you in even closer.

He looks up at you, his eyes are so blue even in the dim light. You place your arms on his shoulders. He hugs you around your middle, and puts his face on your stomach. You slowly brush his hair, enjoying the closeness of him.

"Have you been with anyone?" he asks, afraid to hear the answer.

You tried, you had a date planned with this guy you met at work, but you didn't end up going. It didn't feel right.

"No." you say honestly. "Have you?"

He is still holding you close to him, "I kissed someone." he says.

You shut your eyes. Your confidence slightly falling apart, the self-doubt creeping back in, he can move on and eventually will.

He feels you go solid under his arms and continues "But all I could think was you. It was not long after you broke things off with me. I was mad at you, I kept looking for things to distract myself with. I was mad that you wouldn't leave my head. Mad at the light I could see coming from your window" he looks up at you, his hands on your hips. "So I kissed this girl, who seemed interested in me, and all I could taste was you."

You look into his eyes, he looks so vulnerable like this, all you wish for is to go back in time and change everything, but you can't. You wait for him to continue.

A small laugh escapes him. "I ran away from her. I ran all the way home. It's embarrassing, I never figured out how to forget you." he hides his face into your stomach again, you smell just like he remembers. If he could freeze time and stay like this forever, you running your hands through his hair and so close to him, he would.

"Joost" you let out a breath you were holding. "You don't understand how sorry I am. The amount of pain I caused both us" you voice breaks and he looks up at you. "I don't know how I can ever fix this mistake I made."

"Baby." his hands on your hips move in soothing motions. "Come here" he says and this time you do, he moves you to sit on his thigh, your legs stay in between his.

Your face is right next to his, you can't stop looking at him. His stubble has grew in a little. You put your hand on the side of his face, he immediately leans into it, chasing your touch. All the walls you both tried to put up, crumbling completely. You close the distance between you, your lips moving against his, he wraps his arms around your waist, your chest now closer to his. One of your hands is holding his shoulder, the other is on the nape of his neck. He licks your bottom lip, asking you to open your mouth, you do and his tongue explores your mouth. He missed you in his arms so much, now he can't get enough, he can still taste the cocktail he saw you drink at the party. You feel him groan into your mouth as you pull at his hair, remembering how much he likes it.

You pull apart to catch your breath. You smile and wipe his lips, shiny with your lip gloss, it makes you throb between your legs, that it is your gloss on his lips. You close your legs looking for at least a slight friction, he moves his hand to your thigh, squeezing the soft skin, which startles a moan from you. It makes him twitch in his pants, you sound so much better than the scenarios he kept replaying in his head late at night, his hand moving in a fast pace under the covers, wrapped tightly around his dick, trying to imitate the tight squeeze of your pussy around him.

He moves his hand under your knee, moving you to sit on his lap your back to his chest. He spreads his legs, moving yours apart too.

"I want you." he feels so warm against your back, you can feel an outline of his hardening dick through his jeans pocking at your lower back.

"You have me." he says leaning closer to your ear. He stays close and leans into your hair, kissing softly. You swear you can feel him sniff your hair and moan quietly. This is not the first time you notice him doing it, he denied it the one time you asked him about it, but it turns you on even more. He leans in to kiss your shoulder, placing open mouth kisses to your neck. He bites gently on your skin, you hold his bicep by your side. You need something to ground yourself or you feel like you will float away, his mouth feels so good on you. His hands move from your thighs under your top.

"Is this okay?" he asks, you feel his hot breath on your shoulder.

"Yes." you reply. He smiles and places another kiss, his hands continuing to move under your top caressing your skin. He hasn't done anything yet, but you already feel how aroused you are, your panties sticking to you. His heavy breathing so close to you, only making you even more hot. The open window next to you is of no help. You feel him everywhere, but also want to speed things up.

"Touch me, please." you plead. Your needy voice feels like music to his ears.

"A little bit of patience." his hands move to cup you through your lacy bra. He massages your tits, feeling your nipples harden, you moan and cover your mouth with your hand. "So sensitive." he murmurs. He wants to watch you unravel for him just by touching your nipples, but decides to stash this idea for another time. He hopes there will be another. He moves your bra down to reveal you fully to him and continues his ministrations twisting and pinching your nipples, squeezing your soft skin, until you are writhing on top of him. Your ass moving right against his now fully hard dick, but he can wait.

"Let me hear you." he moves your hand away, which was covering your mouth.

"But the window" your voice is weak.

"Everyone else can also know how good I am making you feel." his hands move to the plush of your thighs, makes sure to push them apart. "Keep them like this, love" he tells and you nod. He pushes your skirt up, moving his hands higher up your inner thighs, your head falls on his shoulder while you let out a soft moan. There is already a wet pre-cum spot forming in his boxers from all the sounds he is pulling from you.

He swipes a finger in between your folds through your panties. "So wet." he says quietly, sitting up straighter, pulling you up with him by wrapping a hand around your middle. He moved his neck to see his hand in between your legs better. He spreads his legs even further, your hips are so wide apart, you feel a breeze touch your wetness, as he moves your panties to the side.

"Were you this excited to see the view?" he says feeling how wet you are. You can't even come up with anything to joke back as he finds your clit and starts moving his finger in slow circles around it, applying slight pressure.

You moan holding his wrist, your head still resting on his shoulder.

"Feels good?" he asks, you can hear him smiling.

"So good." you say and he speeds up his finger pulling even more delicious sounds from you. He wonders if anyone can actually hear you, would the neighbours complain, but decides it is worth it seeing that you don't mind. His finger moves lower through your folds, collecting the wetness as he circles around your hole. He feels it clench around nothing and you whine at his teasing.

"Shh, I've got you." he puts one finger inside of you. You feel so tight around him, he puts in a second finger and starts to make scissoring motions to stretch you for him.

You start to feel the pleasure building, moving to hold his bicep for support. You turn your neck to the side trying to find his lips. He lowers his head towards yours and you collide in a heated kiss. He puts in a third finger in and speeds up his motions, swallowing your moans.

"I'm so close." you turn to look at his fingers disappearing between your legs reaching deeper than yours ever could. Your skirt bunched up, legs spread wide, his hand that is wrapped around your middle is now applying pressure to your lower stomach, you must look a mess, but this is the most beautiful sight to him. His brows are in a frown, focused on a task at hand, so lost in bringing you pleasure.

"Cum for me. Cum on my fingers" he says and you feel the band snap and release on his fingers. Intense pleasure spreading all over your body. Your back arches, as he lets you ride your orgasm.

He pulls out his fingers, shiny with your slick and brings them to his mouth, licking it clean. You hear him groan, as you are still feeling aftershocks from your orgasm. It has been so long, you forgot how good he is at listening to your body, knowing exactly what you need.

He kisses your temple, as his lips slowly reach yours. The kiss is not rushed this time, tender. His lips feel soft against yours. You leave his tight embrace to stand up. Standing in front of him you take off your top, as well as your bra, which is still pulled down, revealing your chest to him and kneel in between his legs. You slide your hands up his thighs, feeling his muscles tense under your touch and reach for his belt. You quickly undo it, unzip his jeans while looking into his eyes, he is watching your every move. You reach to take off his jeans, he lifts his hips to help you and kicks them off, leaving them in a pile next to your top.

"Take off this too." he points at your skirt as he reaches for a pack of cigarettes and a lighter on the windowsill. You stand in front of him, placing your hands on the zipper of your skirt and pull it down slowly, making a show of shimmying it down your legs. Your panties are next. His eyes never leave you as he sits with his legs spread only in his half unbuttoned shirt and boxers, he lights the cigarette and takes a drag blowing smoke away from you towards the window.

"So beautiful." he can't stop looking at you.

Meanwhile you are thinking the same about him. You want to take a photo right now. He is leaned against the back of the chair, you can see an outline of his hard and waiting dick, the collar of his shirt reveals his chest hair. He brings a cigarette to his lips, the end of it glowing as he takes a long drag. You want to remember this forever.

You come closer to him, he leaves the cigarette hanging between his lips, as he puts both of his hands on the backs of your thighs and brings you flush against him and looks up at you. You can't help but giggle at how good he looks and all for you. You start to unbutton his shirt, slipping it off his shoulders. Once again you kneel in between his legs, your hands reach the waistband of his underwear and you look up at him for confirmation. He nods and you take them off, his dick springs up free and rests against his lower stomach, leaving a wet spot of his own pre-cum. He looks like a dream come true.

"Show me how much you've missed me" he says, his voice raspy from the cigarette and his arousal.

You move to straddle him. You take his dick into your hand, he sighs at your touch immediately. He needs this he needs to know you want him as much as he wants you. You spread his pre-cum around his length, moving your hand slowly up and down, twisting your wrist on his head, moving your thumb through the slit. He groans loudly. "Yes, just like this." You always loved how vocal he is during intimate moments. One of his hands is holding a cigarette, the other is on your hip, holding tight. You lean in to kiss along his jaw moving down to his neck, listening to his soft moans, as you keep touching his dick. You continue kissing his neck, he feels you start to suck on his skin about to leave a love bite, but you stop abruptly.

"Can I?" you ask unsure if he would want you to leave marks. You both know each others bodies so well, but this feels new at the same time.

"Please do." his head falls back, giving you more space. You lick up his throat and leave a few marks along your kisses. You smile at your work, this will be a fun reminder in the morning.

You decide not to tease him any longer, you want to feel him inside right this second. You lift yourself up using his shoulders for support, he is holding a cigarrete in one hand, and puts the other under your ass spreading your folds apart, helping you lower yourself onto him. You hold his dick and hover above him, swiping the head a couple of time to cover him in your slick. You are still wet from your previous climax, so it's easier to take him in. You both let out a moan as you start to lower yourself onto him, your walls stretching to accommodate his length.

"You are so tight." he puts a cigarette in between his lips and starts to circle your clit carefully aware of your recent climax, not to overstimulate you. "Relax for me baby." the words coming out funny due to the cigarette hanging from his mouth. You take the cigarette and take a drag yourself. You inhale, keep it in for a while and then blow the smoke in his face slowly. He watches you and you can feel him twitch inside of you.

You pass the cigarette back to him, when he is fully inside of you. You start to lift yourself up and lower back down, setting a steady rhythm, trying to bring him as much pleasure as you can.

His pupils are blown wide, the blue irises barely visible, he is so hard, he could cum right now. But he wants this to last. One of his hands leaves your hips, he leans on the back of the chair and smokes, enjoying the view. Your head is thrown back, eyes shut, tits bouncing, you reach to pinch your nipple and clench around him. He thinks you look so good right now, lost in pleasure, this is what heaven must feel like. He can't ever loose you again.

"Good girl. Making me feel so good." he praises you and feels you clench even harder, as you continue moaning and moving on his length. He moves his gaze from your face, down your body and watches himself disappear between your folds, a mix of your arousal pooling at the base of him.

"I'm so close, Joost." you whine bouncing on him.

He wraps a hand around your back and reaches to put the cigarette out in the ashtray. Now both his hands free, he takes hold of your hips to help you move on him. He starts kissing your neck, and matches your moves with his own thrusts.

You feel him so deep inside of you, you scream in pleasure, as he starts to move you faster on him, holding you by your hips.

"Fuck. You feel so good." he is breathing heavy against your chest, his own climax getting closer. He brings his thumb up to your lips, you open your mouth and suck on his finger. "The things you do to me" he sighs at the picture before him. He hopes he remembers this forever. You swipe your tongue around his finger and he pulls it out, wet with your spit bringing it to your clit and starts to draw fast circles.

He leans in to whisper to you. "I think you were made for me." Somehow he always knew what to say to make you melt under him. It's like he knows exactly what you are worried about in that exact moment.

Your back arches, he puts an arm on your back to hold you. He feels you clench around him rapidly and with a loud moan you cum on him.

"That's it. That's my girl." his own rhythm becoming more sporadic. "Just a little longer. I'm right there." he starts to chase his own release.

"Where do you want me?" he asks feeling himself getting closer.

"Inside." you feel overstimulated, but still it feels so good. "Please." your nails on his shoulders are bound to leave red marks from how hard you are holding on to him.

After a few more wild thrusts, he pulls you flush against him and you feel him release into you. Some of his cum spilling out of you. You put your forehead against his, breathing heavily into each other's mouths, trying to come back to your senses.

He holds you close to him. "I'm glad you read my text today."

"Me too. And I really am sorry, Joost. I hope you can forgive me."

"Let's talk in the morning. We will figure everything out, yes?" he asks bringing your face closer to him, to look into your eyes.

"Yes."

"Can you stay over tonight? or do you want me to walk you home?" he asks.

"I don't think I can walk right now, Joost" you laugh.

"That was incredible, wasn't it?" he laughs too.

You start to stand up with a wince when he pulls out. He cleans you up and you fall asleep on his bed. The pillow still more comfortable than your own. You will try to figure your feelings for each other in the morning.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part thirty

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: guys i've been listening to this playlist again and it actually still tears me apart every time i think ab them. anyway lol enjoy!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo hadn't seen you in a while, he thought you would be back after going to get water but you never returned. He could only bear Livia and Festus for so long before he couldn't take it anymore, leaving to go look for you.

He's scanning the room for your white dress and your angel wings, the telltale tones of your hair, or any other sign of you when Sejanus walks up, standing next to him. "Looking for your girlfriend?" He asks, leaning close to him to make sure he could be heard in the loud room.

"Do you know where she is?" Coryo asks, not giving him another look.

"Yep." Sejanus nods, lips pressed together in a thin line. "She's in my bedroom bawling her eyes out."

Coryo's head swivels to look at him, eyes wide. "What? What happened?" He frowns, not waiting for Sejanus to answer before he begins striding toward the stairs. "Did someone say something to her?"

"Yeah, you did, actually." Sejanus replies as he follows after him, the bitterness in his tone suddenly obvious to his friend as he stops in his tracks.

"What? No, I-" Coryo stammers, looking down at your friend as he steps in front of him to block his path. "What... what did I do? Did she tell you?"

"Lyssie came and found me, and I went to talk to her. The gist of it is that she's suddenly realizing how you're embarrassed of her."

"What?" Coryo asks again, his anger and confusion shifting into sadness as his eyes soften.

Sejanus shrugs a bit. "That's just what I was told."

"No," Coryo insists. "That's not... That's not what it is, not at all."

"Isn't it?" Your friend asks, raising an eyebrow at him. "That you won't tell anyone, that you're keeping her a secret? That you told people she's nothing more than your tribute? After all this time? I can't think of another reason you would treat her like this."

"Of course you can't!" Coryo spits, anger suddenly returning. "You're so caught up in your rebellious bullshit that you can't think ahead, can you? Sejanus- if anyone finds out they'll crucify her! They'll do the same to me! Our lives will be ruined if that gets out at the wrong time!"

Sejanus rolls his eyes. "Her life, or yours?" He asks. "She'll be sent home. Everyone loves her too much to kill her. The worst case scenario for her is that she gets sent home to live her life as normal- with her family and friends. Happy, back in Twelve. The worst for you is that you'd have to decide whether or not you love her enough to go with her."

Coryo opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it when he finds he doesn't have an adequate response.

"You're taking every extra effort to turn her into everything you are. Forcing her to become me- a District kid who had to leave their life behind for nothing more than the money just so you can have her without people looking at you funny, but have you ever asked her what she actually wants? I didn't have a choice, but Y/N does. You just won't give it to her."

He has never seen Sejanus this angry before.

"You know she had to leave. She didn't have a choice." Coryo says through gritted teeth.

Sejanus shakes his head, laughing dryly. "It's not about that, Coriolanus. That didn't mean she had to pack up her life and never return- she never needed to change who she was, but look at her! She's doing everything she can to fit in with you and your life!"

"I did what we had to do because you never can! You only ever think of yourself! The world doesn't work the way you want it to, and you can't stand it. I get that, but we want the same thing. I just know how to get it. She needs people to listen to her- so we can actually stop the games, do you think they'll listen to her if she doesn't play pretend for a while?"

Sejanus huffs in frustration. "If you're not going to listen to me, fine, but don't do this to her." He shakes his head. "At the very least you could have explained why you were lying to her."

"I've never lied to her!" Her answers impulsively- he's sure he has, but not with the intention to hurt you. Never to hurt you. "Look at what happened when she found out, huh?" Coryo gestures vaguely up the hall. "I'm just trying to protect her. That's all I care about! That's it!"

"If you had just told her that from the beginning she wouldn't be hurting like this. You know that, Coryo."

"Okay, and I'm going to explain right now. So leave me alone." He grumbles, moving to push past Sejanus, who quickly stops him, giving him a knowing look.

"Sejanus, get out of my way."

"No," Sejanus states. "Because you're not the only one who cares about her, and right now, I'm the one protecting her."

Coryo grits his teeth together, breathing heavily as he looks at your friend in the quiet hall, music echoing from seemingly everywhere else in the house. He hates considering that Sejanus could be right.

There's a warm breeze that's serving to keep you cool while you walk through the market, dripping wet from head to toe. Your hair is clinging to the skin of your neck and back, allowing you some freedom from the heat as you hold onto Coryo's hand.

With your clothes soaked and stuck to your skin, you could at least convince yourself that was why people were staring.

"So, how often do you do this?" Coryo asks, unable to help but to laugh as he looks down at you.

"Only during a heat wave." You shrug, already scanning the street for the shops you needed to stop at. You had offered to pick up groceries for your Ma, considering the heat and the walk would have made it difficult. At least you could make it fun, and you would have some company.

"Makes sense." He chuckles. He had to admit, the dampness of his clothes was helpful in keeping him cool. It almost made up for the lack of air conditioning in the District.

"The goal is to get home before we dry off." You explain. "Lennox and I play this game sometimes."

Before he can reply, you're dropping his hand and walking over to one of the stalls.

"Y/N, it's been a while." The woman working states, smiling at you somewhat nervously.

"Yes, well, I'm back to business as usual now." You smile, pulling the empty glass bottle from the bag at your side and holding it out to her. "Or at least tryin' my very best."

"I can see that." She chuckles, shaking her head as she takes the bottle. "No Lennox today?" She asks, preparing to fill it up with milk.

"No ma'am." You smile, shaking your head and digging in your pocket for the change you brought and placing it in front of her on the table. "He's off getting into some kind of trouble, I'm sure."

"Take good care of him, will ya? He's a good kid." She hands the now full bottle back to you with a sealed cap.

"Yes, ma'am." You nod, tucking it back into your bag. "Thank you."

She nods at you and you're on your way down again, Coryo allowing you to pull him along as you grab his hand.

You go stall to stall, picking up everything your mother asked for as your shoulder bag steadily fills and Coryo takes it from you to carry instead. He was much stronger now than he was when you first met him- the Plinth Prize had fed him well in every sense of the word.

You look up as you near the end of the street, surrounded by locals who are talking and shouting all the same. The market on a Saturday always was busy, and today was no exception.

"What is it?" Coryo asks, looking at you as you freeze in the street and a smile steadily grows on your face.

"Listen." You tell him, tuning in on the steady clapping coming from the end of the street. When he puts in a little bit of focus, he can just make out the music.

By the time he does, you're grabbing his hand again and pulling him toward the source of the familiar sounds.

The crowd parts around you when you get close enough, and by now Coryo recognizes the band playing as the Covey. There are people dancing in the street despite the heat, sweating and laughing and having fun. It takes a moment for him to notice you being pulled away by little Maude Ivory, who had set down her hip drum to come dance with you.

The smile on your face was simply unmatched, lighting up the shadows cast by the buildings where the sun couldn't quite reach. You hardly even seem to notice when the people dancing around you cleared away, and it was now just you and the little girl who Coryo speculates didn't even know where you had disappeared to for most of July.

You come to a slow stop as you look around, your smile fading as the music continues.

"Thinkin' you're so fine, thinkin' you could have mine..."

Coryo couldn't just watch this. He was far from a dancer himself, but he'd be damned if he let a bunch of idiots dampen your mood because of something you couldn't control.

"Thinkin' you're in control, thinkin' you'll change me, maybe rearrange me,"

You hardly hear your favourite part of the song you loved as you're focussed on Coryo taking the spot of Maude Ivory who's carrying your bag of shopping and placing it down next to their instrument cases and picking her drum back up.

"Think again if that's your goal!"

The extent of Coryo's dance experience was limited to ballroom, and that showed as he quickly raised your hand to spin you. The sunshine smile that finds its way back onto your face while you twirl around under his hand makes his fears of being a bad dancer disappear in an instant, and others must be feeling the same way as the crowd begins to clap and cheer for the two of you.

It was only another beat before others were dancing again, and someone had taken the liberty of breaking a nearby fire hydrant to spray everyone on the street. Now, your clothes were freshly wet and you didn't stand out so much anymore as Coriolanus took a hold of your waist and dipped you just as the music came to a halt.

He smiled as he looked down at you, frozen in the moment with your wet hair hanging down toward the street and your chest rising and falling quickly. Your eyes were closed, cheeks rosy and flushed, and Coriolanus Snow felt like he was on top of the world.

You wake up in Sejanus's bed in the morning, the satin dress that was part of your costume clinging uncomfortably to your skin under his blankets to accompany the horrible plague of sadness that didn't even give you a moment to breathe. Staring at the ceiling and processing your consciousness, you were disappointed with the memory that presented itself as a dream.

Disappointed in yourself for thinking you could have him, really have him, and foolish for thinking he was actually looking past where you were from. But you had made him a promise that was haunting you.

"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet."

He would not give up who he was, but he claimed to love you. His stance was clear, and now it was your turn. Give up the District, or give up him.

When the buzzer rings signifying there is someone at the door in the afternoon, Coryo is flying to the receiver and praying it's you. "Hello?"

He's extremely disappointed when it's Sejanus Plinth's voice that he hears instead. "I'm here for the cat."

Coryo sighs, knocking the side of his fist against the wall as a quiet way to vent his frustration. "No."

"What do you mean, 'no'?" Sejanus spits, voice crackling through the speaker. "He's Y/N's cat-"

"I mean, no. I'm not giving you her cat. He lives here. She lives here. She'll come back." Coriolanus interrupts him, and he's met by deafening silence.

"Coryo-" He sighs, and the pity traveling with his tone up through the walls onto the twelfth floor is what sets him off.

"If she wants her damn cat she can come get him herself." The cat in question is purring and brushing up against his leg as he practically shouts into the wall, letting go of the button before scooping Tybalt up and walking back to his room.

He wasn't angry at you, he knew that much. He was angry at the world for forcing him to make the decisions he did- he was angry at Sejanus for not letting him speak to you last night, and more than anything, he was angry at himself.

Coriolanus Snow was never one to admit when he was feeling afraid. He had never been very good with feelings outside of the basics. He knew he loved Tigris, and now you, and he knew anger and frustration like the back of his hand, but fear- fear was a whole new beast. When it came to recognizing and acknowledging it, anyway.

When it came to you, you were everything to him. Since the moment Coryo first laid his eyes on you, you occupied every ounce of his thoughts. You and your astonishing mind, your body, your everything was like a chronic illness that he never wanted to be cured of, an illness that shamelessly followed him around- gnawing at any other area of his brain that wasn't you until you fully dominated his thoughts altogether. He had never craved anything more, no amount of power could ever make him as satisfied as he is when looking at you.

And that is what terrified him. That losing you meant so much more than losing his path to the presidency. As he places Tybalt on his bed and crawls back under the covers with your cat to rot in his own regrets, he realizes he doesn't give the slightest fuck about his future. Not if it doesn't include you.

So why had he done this at all?

You couldn't call home. You wanted to, you were supposed to, but you couldn't talk to your parents. Put on a smile and tell them everything is fine even when you were calling from the Plinth mansion and you hadn't been back at the Snow's in a day. God forbid this is the day Lennox decides to speak to you again- you couldn't lie to him, and he wouldn't be pleased.

When Sejanus comes back to the large homey mansion empty-handed, you couldn't say you were surprised.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. He's holding Tybs hostage." He tells you, attempting a lighthearted joke while he watches you clean up cups and decorations.

"That's alright." You reply quietly. "He's happy there, they're good friends."

"No, he's being childish. He can't leverage your cat against you."

"Well, it doesn't matter much. I will go back tonight." Sej's eyes go wide at your statement.

"You're kidding." Is all he can offer in response as you casually continue to take down decorations, piling them on the coffee table to dispose of all at once.

You shake your head, turning to look at him fully with a reassuring smile. "Yes, it is totally fine. I'll just help clean up before I go."

"No!" Your friend protests. "Are you not angry? He's been lying to you- he's embarrassed of us, is what it seems like to me. That's not fair to you. Not one bit, Y/N."

He had seen your pain last night. Felt it, even, and he knows that even a good night's sleep could not have solved that- but he also knew that you were a preacher of forgiveness and clung to it like a vice. You would forgive Coriolanus whether you really should or not.

"Never anger made good guard for itself."

"Y/N... Please." Sejanus replies, shaking his head at your saddened smile. "Stay here. Just for a couple of days. I am begging you to think about yourself and what you need for once."

You sigh, giving him a slight nod. If you were being totally honest, you did not want to go back yet. You just needed time.

It was such a relief to be able to finally relax, even if it was just for a few days. You lounged around in Sej's spare pyjamas, curled up in his Ma's library while she and her husband were back in District Two on some alleged business that your friend did not care to know much about. It was very much not your concern anyway.

The point of your couple days off was to not care about others, not care about the problems of the world and the mistakes you have made but instead to just enjoy the company of the books stacked high on shelves in the Plinth's mansion.

So far, a dusty book in surprisingly incredible condition had been keeping you company for the better part of the morning. Little Women. It was captivating- far from the love stories that typically drew your attention, but you couldn't tear your nose from between the pages.

You had to, eventually, when you heard your name being shouted by your best friend from downstairs. You tuck an envelope from the table next to you in between the pages and make your way down the long hall, already excited to tell him about what may very well be your new favourite book.

"Sej?" You call out, having lost track of where the voice had come from as you head for the front hall. You were aware he was leaving only to go pick up something for breakfast at a bakery he said was his favourite, one you had never been to, but that had been quite some time ago. As you walk toward the foyer assuming that's where you would find him, you guess there must have been a long lineup. "Sej, I have to tell you about the book I found!"

You couldn't keep your raving in as you round the corner, already flipping once more through the pages in preparation for citing to him some of your favourite parts while you ate breakfast.

You look up when you sense the shadow of more than one person at the door, expecting to see his parents, having returned early from their trip. Instead, your heart stops in your chest. It's Lennox. Rigid, nothing but a backpack slung over his shoulder as he stares at you. You hadn't heard from him in months, despite all your best efforts.

The book in your hand clatters to the floor and before you know it your arms are around your brother's neck, holding onto him for dear life. You hear his bag drop to the ground beside you before his arms are around your waist, firm as he pulls you as close as he possibly can.

"When I am from thee every place is distant..." You say into his shirt, gripping the back of it in your hands.

"I missed you too." Lennox mumbles.

"I'm sorry... I am so sorry." You tell him quietly and you feel him shake his head before he pulls back just to look at you.

"Don't you apologize to me." He says strictly. "Don't you dare." The tears pooling on his lash line make yours spill over again. "I'm sorry. I should be sorry."

You hug him again, and now it is your turn to shake your head. "Let's just agree to forgive each other so we can just be happy we're together..."

"Deal." He sniffs, patting your back before letting you go again to pick his bag up off the floor.

"What... what are you doing here?" You ask with a slight laugh, wiping your eyes quickly. "Howdid you get here?"

Your brother nods toward Sejanus, who you now realize was just forced to watch the whole exchange. "Sejanus called the house the other night." He explains. "Said you were havin' a real rough time, so I hopped on the freight car of the peacekeeper's train first thing in the morning."

Which means he would be here for the month- and immediately you couldn't be more relieved or excited.

"Thank you." You nod at him, turning now to give your best friend a hug. "Thank you for doing that..." You whisper and he nods, gently rubbing your back.

"Of course, Y/N/N."

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x Reader: Awakening Chapter Three

Chapter 3: Traitor!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Optimus Prime Ending, Megatrons Ending, Elita Ones Ending, B-127 Ending, Bonus+ Deadlocks Ending

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

TW/tags: B being adorable, death (deer robot and primes flashback), tried to add reader in the best I can without changing too much, D loses his shit near the end, 3rd pov, that should be all

(Alright gang it’s time for chapter 3! It was a bit hard for me to add much moments for Y/N and B in this bit because most of the time it didn’t feel right to change certain parts and moments except for the part where the gang is walking. As always I try to add accurate dialogue as I imagine that it’s what the characters would say. Hopefully you all enjoy this and enjoy the reader as you see their character grow and more of their personality and so on. Enjoy.)

Elita starts punching the giant rock next to her.

“Ok so uh this is us. And if we follow the path to-“

“Now you listen to me Mr. Zero seconds since my last accident. I’ll go on your little quest ‘cause I don't have a choice! But I carry the map. I navigate. And if this leads to nothing! Then I’m dragging you and those two idiot GoBots back to Iacon city and into the first supervisor depo we see at which point you will explain everything that has happened using words that reflect me in a very positive light! Got it!!”

“Yeah ok deal all right all right.”

“Lets go!”

B would then follow Elita after look at Orion. Orion looking terrified. As the four walk forward following Elita. Orion was waiting for D first to catch up then starts walking. D admiring their surroundings both curious and confused. Y/N was next to Orion as the two walked forward. Orion would look over at Y/N.

“This is going well. Sorry for bringing you into this. Didn’t plan you two joining.”

”It’s fate at least someone other then D joins you. More then one it seems.”

”Yeah B we just met when Darkwing brought is to one of the sub levels to keep us hidden. B helped us escape and thought of the train once we found the map.”

”Well. He seems pretty nice….Enough.” The two would then start walking once D caught up

”She- She’s joining us? Fantastic! Hi there, uh Elita right? Am I saying that right? Wanted to formally introduce myself. Uh, I’m B-127. You kneed me in the face earlier back there. Uh you-you can call me B or! Badassatron. It’s a nickname sort of what the guys gave me I don’t know. I didn’t give it to myself or anything, it's just-…actually it’s pronounced “Badassatron!!”…In case you were wondering. “Badassatron!!” You like that right?….”Badass-“

“I’m going to need you to talk less.”

“Sure oh yeah no problem. What am I stalking less about? My nickname? That’s fine with me.” Y/N started to walk forward a bit. Giving the two some privacy as they smoke and continues to look at their surroundings. Then joining Elita and B.

“Hey. You’re thinking about what you’ll say when you hand the Matrix to Sentinel aren't you?”

“I can’t help it.”

“D! We’re really doing this.”

“So glad I’m out here with you. This was a great idea.”

The five will continue their journey for what seems like a few hours.

“I’m just having a good time. How much further is the matrix on the map? Make an educated guess that- This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to anyone anywhere I’m telling you! One not two not three, not four but five. Five best friends who are walking through the door- there’s no doors we’re outside.”

Y/N would chuckle finding his humor funny other then the others. They were walking next to B as the others were a bit further.

”B-127 you certainly know how to sing”

”Oh well thank you. You know I just got that talent I guys.”

The two would laugh as Elita rolls her eyes as Orion and D groan until he notices plants from the planet showing again

“Hey look there’s more of it over here.”

Orion would touch the planet life coming out of the ground.

“What is it?”

“It’s not metal.”

“Like some kind of uhh weird nature. It’s weird.”

“So are they.” Soon seeing robot deers

They all then hear a loud noise

“What was that?”

“Uhm I think this is not right, we should go.” Orion seeing dust past him and the deers running the direction they were headed

“Yeah, good idea. “ The five start running getting to what seems like an abandoned town

“Run!”

“What are we running from?”

“What is that!?”

A ship will show itself

“Oh no. It’s a Quintesson ship!”

“What!”

“Oh that ain’t right!!!”

“What do we do? What do we do?”

“Shh. Quiet.”

Soon the five have their backs against a wall. Orion, D, Y/N, B, And Elita all looking up at the sky confused and scared. The five would then see one of the deers running and soon the poor deer was hit with something that caused it to explode. Elita was the one to grab Y/N’s hand after they tripped for a second and kept running

“It’s scanning for lifeforms. Move! Move!”

They soon start running

“Go go go.”

D, Y/N and Elita are able to make to a spot where the structure over them of the town can block the scanners above them.

“Come on! They’re not gonna make it!” Y/N trys to step forward wanting to help them but D and Elita would put their hand on Y/Ns shoulder and chest stopping them as the three watched.

Orion then grabs B by just stopping him as they stay under something that keeps the scanners from detecting them. B soon falling on his knees once they pass. Soon the ship will leave

“What- what were they searching for?”

“Someone to hug B. How should I know?” Y/N hits Ds arm with your fist

“I’m not waiting around to find out.”

“This way we’re close.”

“Quintessons haven’t been for 50 cycles.”

“It doesn’t make sense! There’s nothing out here.”

”What ever they’re looking for can’t be up here!…I hope.”

They soon make it to a cave. Climbing to an unpleasant entrance.

“A cave with teeth. Nothing scary about that.”

They start walking forward. B staying close to Y/N as the two look at the eachother scared and unsure

“Knives coming out of the ceiling. Everyone, do we have to go- ok yep we’re going in. Why shouldn’t we? Just walking into the scariest place I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Not ridiculous.”

They continue to walk until they see a sight that causes them to have to stop for a moment

“I don't believe it…”

“The Primes…”

“We’re here.”

”It’s…..really them..”

The five then start walking deeper in the cave. Elita looking at the body of Solus Prime. D. Walking to the head of Megatronus Prime. Kneeling down as he puts his hand on it. Soon looking angry. Orion looks at Zeta Primes body soon kneeling down before him. Y/N walks to Vector Primes body. Taking a knee and bowing their head to him

“Megatronus Prime…..”

“Zeta Prime….The Matrix?…It’s gone.”

“Lets keep looking.”

“Hey guys!”

Soon the five find rocks pilled together making something that was big and after removing them it’s revealed to be Alpha Trion

“It’s Alpha Trion.”

“He’s powered down, but his spark is still lit.”

B would then give Orion a small cube. Orion puts it in Tyrion’s mouth. He soon awakens and the five step back scared

“Message before!”

“Whoah whoah it’s ok! It’s ok. You’re safe now. The war is over.”

Trion would then stand up and make his way to Zetas body as he held his chest.

“I’ve failed you. Old friend. You deserved so much better than this end.”

“No you didn’t fail. We heard your message. We’ve come to find the Martrix-“

“Your transformation cogs- what happened to you? Who are you?”

“We’re cogless miners. From Iacon.”

“Miners? Why?”

“Well we’d have to drill for energon ever since it stopped flowing.”

“Impossible.”

“That’s why we came to fix things. If we find the Matrix of Leadership and get it to Sentinal Prime he sai-“

“Sentinel Is No Prime!”

“WHAT!?”

“He’s broken. Frantastic.” D and Y/N say looking at eachother thinking the same thing as they look back at Trion.

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that?”

“Sentinel Prime is our protector. He’s been saving us from the Quintessons ever since the-“

“You have not been saved. You’ve been living a lie. I saw the truth with my own eyes. Come. I will show you.”

“For thousands of cycles the war with the Quintessons have been a brutal conflict. Until sentinel, the principled aid to the primes. Intercepted an enemy transmission. There was going to be a secret gathering of Quintesson commanders. Their intermission would end the war. It was a mission so important. We primes took it on ourselves. We agreed to meet sentinel for his sensitive intel. In Secret. Here in this Cave. But we were Not Alone.”

The five would watch as the vision of the primes from the sands move around them

“We were outnumbered but stood as One. Our Victory was Near!” The primes continue to fight until one of them, was stabbed from behind

“Until we were Betrayed.”

It then shows sentinel stabbing one of the primes through the back and soon makes his way to the other primes. Shooting Solus Prime. Decapitating Megatronus head. Then shooting Zeta Prime causing him to fly back. Making the four scared and prepare for impact as he appears to fall on them and slides back a bit.

“Sentinel….why…”

“For all the power of Cybertron.”

“But sentinel never understood the true power of what he desired. The Matrix of Leadership can only be wielded by one that Primus himself deems worthy. And sentinel most certainly was not.”

Orion and D watched. Orion with fear and D with anger. Orion would fall on his knees

“Wai- ho- hold on. Yo-you’re saying that the Matrix of Leadership just vanished?”

“No. No no no no. That is impossible. I don’t believe it.”

“Why would sentinel do that?”

“To make a bargain.”

“A bargain? With who?”

“With the new rulers of Cybertron.”

“Quintessons..”

“There are so many.”

The five would see many ships and then one over them as it heads to an open area. The biggest taking center stage. Y/N would kneel between Elita and B as they all watched to see what’ll happen

“He’s here! Sentinel prime is here!”

Sentinel and the other guard are seen flying and soon land in front of the ships. Transforming. The Quintessons solders soon start marching out of the ship getting in line on both sides before their leader

“Keep your eyes open.”

“They always are.”

The master and one of the leaders floats out. Soon sentinel is seen kneeling as the others behind him do the same. The four gasp quietly from what they just saw. He would then look back and nod. The boxes in the trainsf float and then open.

“I load those crates. Those are filled with contaminated metal.”

“I don't understand. What do the Quintessons want with toxic waste?”

“Our energon!”

“Traitor!’’

“D no.”

“I know what I promised you. But our mines. They’re running out. There’s barely enough energon for us.”

“I swear I will get you the rest.”

“Triple time every mining shift. No miner gets a break until I get my energon. All of it! Lets go!”

From there the Quintessons leave and so does sentinel and the other guards. B let out a sigh and looked down showing to be pretty scared as Elita goes to leave. Y/N noticed this and puts their hand over Bs hand. Comforting him and giving a gentle smile. B would then look down with a bit of a frown and follow Elita after. Orion would then leave back into the cave with the others while D stayed for a bit longer still processing what he just witnessed. Y/N stay down a bit as the three would pass them. Seeing D they come next to them, putting their hand in his arm. When he looked at them he saw their expression was anger. They are just as mad as he is looking at the ships then down. Then they look at D as the two stare at each other. Nothing knowing that each other are very, very upset of what they just witnessed.

“Now you have seen the truth.”

“Everyday…every single day of my life has been a lie.”

“My god I knew it! Deep down I always felt something was off!”

“He deceived everyone.”

“Sentinel bought himself power and then put us to work. Paying off his debt.”

“I can’t believe it. Well obviously I can believe it I just saw it. But I still…I can’t believe it.”

“Sentinel..lied…to my face.”

“He lied to all of our faces! To believe we were protected. To believe we had hope and dreams of a future with no worry of the enemy. No! Gone now. Now that the truth is out.” They would then get a big rock close by. But it not creating any pain or anything to them

“It was all a sham. How could we have been so gullible? Oh this. This is going to change everything.”

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You just had to go to the surface. Head into the Iacon 5000. You just had to break protocol.”

“Who cares about protocol?”

“I do! I care! Because nothing ever happens when you stay on protocol!”

“Sentinel prime has been forcing us to work in the mines until our gears strip! And all the while he’s been giving the energon away to our greatest enemies!”

“And what do you think he’s going to do when he finds out that we know?”

“I’m not thinking about what he’s going to do. I’m thinking about what we’re going to do.”

“Well that’s the whole thing! You’re never thinking about anything else! Just yourself! Fantastic! Another Orion Pax master plan! I can’t wait to hear this!”

“Hey don’t you want to stop him?”

“No, I want to kill him! I want to put sentinel in chains and march him through the mines so everyone can see him for the false prime that he is! I want him to suffer then to die in darkness! But we all know that it doesn't matter what I want right Pax? The fact is we’re just cogless bots, right? We had limited options. And now, now we have non.” Y/N would look down. Getting deep in their thoughts as their hands tighten out of anger

“No son or daughter of Cybertron is born without a cog.”

“Oh yeah, I have been with myself since I came online and this slots always been empty!”

“So what are you saying?”

“No, no way. Nobody can be that evil. Not even sentinel.”

“He removed your cogs before you came online.”

“We were born with transformation cogs. But he-..he-“

“He took them from us.”

“OH so he has not only made us work since the moment we wake up. But he is the reason he are fragile and insignificant to the rest of Cybertron!”

Y/N chuckled a bit at first before speaking. Elita looking at them a bit surprised as she put her hand on their chest when they tried to step forward towards Trion. B putting his hand on their arm. Elita never saw Y/N this upset before

“What defines a transformer-hmm..Is not the cog in his chest but the spark that resides in their core. A spark that gives you the will to make your world better. My fellow primes had that spark and I see their strength in you. Take their cogs and access your full potential. Prima. Onyx. Alchemist. Mircronus. Vector. Warriors of noble spirit. Loyalty, Strength, Their uniqueness enhanced by you.”

From there the cogs inside the Primes float out of their chests making their way as the five float and the cogs go into their chests. Transforming them to full Cybertronians

“They were one. You are one. All are one.”

The four would and on their feet and see they have changed

“Wait we- have- you-you gave us-“

“The ability to change your world. How you choose to use that power is up to you.”

Orion would look up at Alpha Trion was hope and joy in his eyes. D doing the same once he looked at Trion as well. Orion turning back to look at B first as B laughs excited. Elita and D looking at each other excited full with pride. Orion soon turning back again to look at the two. Y/n looking at their self as barely has any words. B and Orion look at them with large smiles on their faces excited. Y/N doing the same as they too cheer.But the moment is cut short when the four soon hears a loud rumble.

Hope you all enjoyed and hope to see you for the next chapter!

Next chapter will be released on Friday Nov. 1st

[pomefioredove]

i was wondering if you could do Duece, Leona, Ruggie, Azul, Jamil x Christian S/O headcanons? like reader used to be a preacher back at their world, and still kinda preaches in twst (i think rollo believes in God?) like they do all the things Christians should do but still kinda chaotic? their very respectfull and kind yk? sorry for making this a bit long and confusing lol

twst's relationship with religion is so vague and complicated and yet. I cannot imagine rollo as anything BUT catholic. look at that guy. so I believe there's some kind of similar belief systems happening there

summary: religious reader type of post: headcanons characters: deuce, leona, ruggie, azul, jamil additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader yuu, short and not proofread author's note: writing these on the basis that religion does exist in twisted wonderland and parallels religions of our own. I am catholic and admittedly unfamiliar with preaching to others, I think that's more of a protestant thing, so I kinda just winged that part?

𝐃𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

if there's anything for him to admire, it's your dedication

I mean, you're sticking to your beliefs and passions in an entirely different universe

with a bunch of strangers, no less!

whether or not some version of your beliefs exist here, you're committed! and quite knowledgeable, too

it's pretty impressive to him

Deuce's family doesn't seem particularly religious, though he probably just enjoys hearing the stories

the narratives of change and redemption catch his eye

𝐑𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐞 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐡𝐢

he's big into all those "it's easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of God" verses

even if he doesn't necessarily believe in all that heaven stuff... it's a little funny

(he might use that one in the future, actually...)

if religion which parallels our own does exist in Twisted Wonderland, I can imagine his granny being religious

she seems like someone who'd cover the walls in symbols and art

maybe (likely) not Christian in origin, but enough for him to recognize that what you're going on about is a similar deal

he's practically used to it already

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

literally just falls asleep while you're talking

it's not that he doesn't care, it's just that...

wait, no. he doesn't care

sure, he participates in traditions and such with his family, but that's more for looks

Leona doesn't really see the point in blindly following something that hasn't helped him out at all

and hearing about miracles and blessings just annoys him

but, hey! you make for a great sound machine

these are basically all just bedtime stories for him to doze off to, anyway

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

merman religion is... tricky, to me

the existence of Hades in implies (confirms, even, if we take into account Yuu's dreams) the existence of Poseidon

but, like King Triton, these figures aren't necessarily worshipped. they're depicted as monarchs, not gods

but, then again, our knowledge on Coral Sea culture is limited

in any case, Azul might tolerate preaching

he really sees no use for it, and he's a busy man, but he doesn't really mind the company

if anyone, it's Jade who would be really interested in hearing alllll about these human stories

Floyd might tag along, too

and, suddenly, Azul finds himself wedged between the tweel's shoulders on the floor while they eagerly listen to you

...there goes his afternoon

𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

to me, Jamil is not religious or superstitious by any means

he doesn't mind listening, but don't expect him to change his mind about any of that

(especially while Kalim is begging for more stories)

though, even he admits that having you around is as refreshing as it is entertaining

you're just always so... hopeful

and it's much different from Kalim's version of optimism (in his eyes, at least) simply because, in this world, you're at the same disadvantage as Jamil is

your autonomy is constantly in question, you're living at the mere goodwill of others...

and yet, you're hopeful!

it's strange, but Jamil can't help but crave that presence in his life

[bloggingboutburgers]

hello! I was wondering about QPR relationships? Like how do you know if it's a crush or smth like a huge huge friend likeness thing? And like some examples(if its fine!) Thank you!

Sorry for the late reply! Hmmm... I've talked about it before on this tag, and I can only ever really talk about my own experience, but I'll try to give examples that are as concrete as possible that sorta clue me in on the fact that it's not romance from what I can understand of my own situation :

I don't feel jealousy or possessiveness when it comes to my partner and it's mutual. We like spending time together but we're perfectly alright with the other spending their time with another person without getting worried about it. It doesn't feel lonely either – it's just nice to know they're vibing.

In fact we're very much encouraging each other not to put each other at the dead center of our own lives. It would feel like too much if that was the case.

If it ends someday, it'll feel lonely, sure, but not world-shattering. Not any more world-shattering than a friendship ending at least – which yeah, granted, IS pretty world-shattering, but it wouldn't get worse than that, at least as far as I can imagine.

I never really felt extra nervous towards my partner personally, like no heart-beating-faster kinda thing or losing sleep over it.

We have some physical affection, with boundaries, and pet names, with boundaries, but one of our favorite things past that is chatting and bursting into laughter over something we find funny mutually.

When I call them "my" something, I always feel the urgent need to specify "just as a matter of speech, 'cus you're not mine, you don't belong to me".

Also some two cents from my partner @civiart who was the one bringing up the fact they had a squish on me, and that I feel might be more useful:

They can see themselves having key life events with me, like moving in together or whatnot, or traveling together or such, but they have trouble picturing ourselves in typical "romantic situations" for what it's worth. They say that was helpful in figuring that out for themselves, although it was a year-long process in their case.

It doesn't depend on orientation strictly, since anyone from any orientation can have a squish, and some people on the aromantic spectrum can feel romantic attraction depending on their place on the spectrum.

One last thing I very much agree with: it's a very personal thing and at the end no one can make that call but yourself. It's about what feels right to you and what it feels right to label yourself as – if it feels right to use a label to you in the first place!

[halliestinks]

Not enough butters appreciation smh 😔 since ny sweet boy deserves better can I pls get headcanons of a reader who has like a MASSIVE crush on him and is super affectionate and sweet with him and he's not used to it

Butters x Reader who has a Massive Crush on him

a/n: YES PLS MORE BUTTERS REQUESTS!!! I agree 100% he doesn’t get enough appreciation and he’s literally one of my favourite characters (apart from clyde) 🙁🙁

• you’ve always been head over heels for butters, the way he’s so sweet and genuine to others and how he never has any underlying intentions when he’s being friendly to you always gave you butterflies

• he of course is completely oblivious to your crush, assuming you just think of him as really good pal

• butters isn’t used to someone being so openly affectionate towards him, so when you start showing him affection he gets confused and unsure how to react

• he often blushes and stammers, not knowing how to handle your overwhelming sweetness

• is soo confused, like somebody actually likes being around him???? AND they’re not just using him?????

• despite his confusion you are super patient. you know that butters may need time to adjust to your affectionate nature, you simply enjoy making him feel appreciated

• you despise how everyone uses him, constantly finding yourself sticking up for him even when he doesn’t realize he needs it

• you get so defensive whenever somebody exploits his naivety, though often times he reassures you that it’s okay and he is willingly helping whoever is taking advantage of him. (he doesn’t understand he’s just being used)

“butters just think about it before you agree, please? for me?”

“w—well alright…”

• it sometimes ends with you stopping him, while other times you aren’t so lucky. you make sure to tag along just in case something happens anyways

• complimenting him throughout the day is a must, it will successfully leave him feeling giddy and majorly boosts his confidence

• the first time it happened probably went like this;

“your smile is really cute :)”

“aw gee!! thanks y/n!!! you have a cute smile too!!!”

“☺️”

“…wait”

• takes a minute for him to realise what you just said. he literally NEVER gets compliments so it catches him off guard

• immediately goes red and fiddles with his thumbs as he usually does when he gets shy

• his reaction made you want to compliment him all the time, it irks you so much that he’s never really had much affection towards him

• you usually suggest places to hang out, like at an arcade or a restaurant, etc. he will agree to go no matter where it is, he’s just happy to have somebody who genuinely wants to be around him

• chilling at home together is equally as fun, watching movies while either you play with his hair or he plays with yours

• his parents adore you, they constantly ask if you want to come over for lunch/dinner. they’ll even make an exception for you to visit whenever butters is grounded

• one time you actually got grounded with butters for doing something silly, so you had to stay in his room for the entirety of your stay. you ended up having alot of fun that day, and you got closer to butters so you decide it was worth the grounding

• butters will sometimes surprise you with homemade gifts, or he’ll save up his money to buy you something you’ve mentioned wanting a few times

“do ya like it?? I made it ‘specially for you!!”

“…this is the nicest gift anyone has ever gotten me 😖”

“a—are you crying?!”

• your heart practically melts, it baffles you how somebody can be so pure and yet doesn’t get the love he deserves from others

• it doesn’t take long before he starts to realize just how much he enjoys your company, your sweetness and affection leaving him with a funny feeling in his stomach after hanging out. and he finds himself falling for you too

• I feel like he would probably confess to you almost immediately after he realizes his feelings for you

• you would be hanging out at his place playing a board game, until he can’t hold it in any longer and just straight up confesses

“I—I really like you y/n! like… I like— like you… do you uh.. like— like me too??”

“of course I like— like you too butters!!! I have for ages, I thought you already knew??”

“really?!? I had no idea!!!”

“and here I thought I made it so obvious.”

• the two of you start dating afterwards and nobody is surprised, almost everybody thought you were already a couple so!!

• anyways, he tries his hardest to be the best partner ever. and you do the same, making sure he knows how much you love him everyday <3

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

Love and Liabilities: Chapter Four (Agatha Harkness x Fem!Reader)

Summary: As you prepare for the impending trial and attempt to find ways to relieve your stress, the biggest stressor in your life has a funny way of showing up when you least expect it.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Lawyer!Agatha is back after a little hiatus! This is a bit of a shorter chapter to get me back into writing after a few months. I’m hoping to be updating a bit more regularly but I’m (sadly) growing even more busy & stressed, so I promise to do the best I can! As always I hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think. My asks/dm’s are always open!

Tag List: @chiar4anna @harknessshi @neverfindmegone @aggieslittleslut @ris-ris-mind @tr333sus @sabstance-blog

Present Day

The whooshing of the wind in your ears combined with the cool air filling your lungs fueled you to increase your pacing as you ran through the deserted park. It had been nearly a week since you reunited with Agatha, and your brain had been hellbent on torturing you ever since. Nothing could take your mind off the infuriating attorney, not even work. You had spent the past few days pouring over every word in the various documents Agatha presented during the pretrial conference, hoping to find something, anything really, to solidify your case.

It was times like this when you missed working in corporate law. Although you had only been a junior attorney at Stark & Strange, you had unlimited access to paralegals and attorneys at your disposal. Unfortunately, working for the government meant not only taking a significant pay cut, but also limiting your outsourcing. You didn’t regret your decision to leave the firm, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the perks.

Since burying yourself in piles of work proved useless, your only real escape from Agatha came from running. The familiar burning sensation began to fill your lungs as your body begged for a break, but you forced yourself to continue. Your legs felt heavier than when you first started, and as you rounded the corner of the trail you had to work twice as hard to not slow down. Even though you were growing tired, the rush of endorphins was a welcome change from the haunting memory of searing blue eyes burning holes into your own.

Agatha would be far too pleased to learn how much of your time and energy was being wasted trying to forget her. However, being the soul sucking succubus she was, you wouldn’t be surprised if she was already aware of the pain she was causing. A swell of anger suddenly overtook you, a feeling you had long grown familiar with when thinking of her, and you used it to finish the final stretch of your run. The thudding of your feet on the pavement along with the loud thumping of your heartbeat acting as a painful reminder of the woman you so desperately wanted to rid yourself of.

Swirls of scarlet, orange, and yellow painted the Manhattan skyline as the sun gradually rose over the city, and the quiet beeping of your phone from your back pocket signaled the end of your run. Nearing the end of the trail, you slowed your pace down to a steady walk, allowing yourself to do some breathing exercises in the process whilst checking your email. It was early enough in the morning that there wasn’t much for you to go through, but you knew it was bound to be yet another busy day.

You had timed your run to give yourself just enough time to head back to your apartment to get ready for the day and get to the office before the rest of your colleagues. The stress of the looming trial was becoming overwhelming, and you had to be prepared for whatever chaos Agatha would inevitably throw at you. Unfortunately that meant you were working nearly double the amount of hours than normal.

Luckily you were able to take a quick shower, find clean clothes in the back of your closet, and managed to get to work before anyone else had arrived. You would hopefully have an hour or two to yourself before you were eventually interrupted, and you intended to use every last possible second you could. As you strolled the corridor, you were tempted to stop to make yourself a coffee, but decided to get settled before adding caffeine to this situation.

Absentmindedly dropping your bag to the floor after you entered your office, you refocused your attention on reading a memo that one of your colleagues had left for you. Making mental notes of what needed to be addressed, you turned to open the blinds when you stopped dead in your tracks at what was in front of you.

Agatha Harkness sat in an armchair in the corner of your office, an amused expression painting her face. You nearly fell over at the sight of her, how did she get in here? The door was locked when you had arrived, wasn’t it?

Agatha, unaware of your current inner ramblings, took a sip of her coffee before repositioning herself, recrossing her legs as she gave you a disappointed look. “Your lack of situational awareness is truly astonishing. I could have been a murderer.”

Adrenaline continued to course through your body as your heart thumped loudly in your chest. Taking a deep breath, you ignored her sarcastic remarks as you leaned against your desk, attempting to calm down.

“What-what the hell are you doing in here?” You spluttered out, unsuccessfully trying to regain your composure.

The attorney frowned, as if that was an absurd question. “This is your office, is it not? I wasn’t sure at first, but the withering plants were a bit of a giveaway.”

Typical Agatha. They weren’t dying, were they? You made a mental note to ask your paralegal to water them a bit more.

Ignoring the jab, you took another deep breath, your body still on edge. “Do I even want to know how you got in here?”

Taking a moment to think over your words, she shook her head. “No. Now drink your coffee before the ice melts.”

It was then that you noticed the untouched cup of iced coffee on the edge of your desk. Narrowing your eyes at it, you gave her a suspicious glance. “How do I know you didn’t poison it?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, as if that was the most ridiculous thing to ask her and she didn’t just break into your office. “Honestly, dear. You’re far too paranoid this early in the morning. Drink. We both know how irritable you are without caffeine.”

When you refrained from grabbing the cup, Agatha huffed, her stormy blue eyes swirling in annoyance as she rose from her seat. Taking a step towards you until your legs were nearly touching, she snatched the cup, the silence in the room disrupted by the clanking sound of the ice swirling in the cup. Hovering over you, she used her free hand to grab yours, the soft feel of her touch briefly taking you back to a time where it would have been more welcomed.

Your breath hitched as the rich, musky scent of her expensive perfume washed over you, and you fought the temptation to look into her eyes. How many times had you found yourself in this exact same position with her, you mused lightly as your brain attempted to regain its ability to function. Agatha’s fingers intertwined with yours, as she leaned in even closer, her lips grazing your jawline and you closed your eyes, fighting against the urge to lean into her touch.

Clearing your throat, you shook your head. “No. This can’t happen again.”

Agatha pulled back, her eyebrows slightly raised. “What can’t happen again?”

Giving her a pointed look, you tried to ignore the feel of her fingers still interwoven with your own. “I don’t think we need to relive that mistake, do we?”

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Agatha replied, swishing the cup of iced coffee as she lifted it up. “I seem to recall you rather enjoying yourself during that mistake, or was that someone else who pulled me into a closet and jumped me?”

“I did not jump you! You’re the one who came onto me,” you hissed as your irritation grew exponentially.

“Easy, tiger,” Agatha teased, raising the cup until the straw was nearly touching your lips. “I see the caffeine withdrawal is already kicking in.”

“Agatha…” you trailed off, ignoring your brain protesting that this would hurt even more than your last encounter.

Dropping your hand, Agatha gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head upwards until you were forced to meet her eyes.

“Sip,” Agatha murmured, raising the cup once more to your lips.

Her words were soft, but you both knew it wasn’t a request as much as a command. A part of you knew this was a mistake, that you couldn’t give into her yet again after being strong for so long. But then you looked into her eyes and found yourself getting lost in the fiery intensity she always seemed to carry. Logic and reason held no weight against the pleasure that was being at the mercy of Agatha Harkness.

Wrapping your lips around the straw, you lightly sucked, savoring the creamy, cold taste of the iced coffee on your tongue. Agatha’s eyes darkened at the sight; using one hand to brush your hair behind your shoulders while the other remained glued to your jaw, fingers brushing lightly against your skin.

“Good girl,” Agatha quietly praised, running her fingers through your hair, tugging lightly at the loose strands.

As you released the straw from your mouth, Agatha set the cup down, tightening her grip on your hair before capturing your lips in a kiss. Her lips were warm and gentle against your own, but it wasn’t long before she began nipping on your lower lip, biting down harder when you let out a whine. Moving forward, she pressed herself fully against you, while you instinctively wrapped your arms around her waist. Her tongue expertly sought out your own, and it felt like she was trying to get every drop of coffee from your mouth.

Panting, you were the first to break the kiss, tilting your head as Agatha proceeded to pepper persistent kisses down your jawline, each leaving you more breathless than the last.

“Agatha…” you whimpered, the last bit of self control slipping away even as you tried to hold onto it. “We can’t do this again.”

The attorney chuckled softly against your skin, tickling you ever so slightly in the process. She took a moment to look up at you then, with her ever blue eyes hazy with want and perfectly swollen red lips, and you remembered a moment in time where this had been easier. It was almost too easy to forget the pain of the past when she looked at you in that special way; as if she saved those intimate, sweet glances just for you. You used to believe you were able to bring out a different side of her than the rest of the world saw; that you understood who she was at her core.

Having her here now made the whole situation even worse than you previously remembered. It complicated things, and if there was one thing you hated more than anything, it was unnecessary complications. You found it difficult to remember the seemingly obvious reasons why you left her all those years ago when she was standing within your reach; the light that once dimmed in her eyes was once again ablaze. Gone were the demons of the past, in its place was the woman you had once fallen in love with.

Unfortunately, you were snapped out of your thoughts as you heard chatter from the hallway; your colleagues had arrived for the day. Agatha’s head tilted at the sound, and the moment was broken as she took a step back.

Clearing her throat, she folded her arms across her chest. “I was hoping you had given more thought to dropping the case, that’s why I dropped by.”

Annoyance took over any feelings of longing that had been threatening to emerge, and you frowned. “You do realize that this could be perceived as intimidation, right? That on top of trespassing could mean you potentially lose any upper hand in this trial that you believe you possess.”

Agatha fully cackled, which only served to enrage you further. She picked up a few files that she must have previously set on the desk. “You always were so full of pride and ambition, dear. I’m not surprised to see it still has a hand in clouding your judgment. It’s a pity. I always thought you had a lot of potential.”

Flabbergasted, you shook your head. You should have known better. Only Agatha would be capable of attempting to manipulate you over your shared past to better serve her motive. Shoving past her, you finally opened the blinds to your office, the once sunny morning replaced with dark gray skies as rain furiously poured down. As you turned around to tell Agatha to get out, you were unsurprised to find she was already gone. Typical.

Settling down at your desk, you opened your laptop and started going through your checklist for the day when you noticed something on the edge of your desk; a file folder. You quickly realized Agatha must have left it behind by accident, which was strange; it wasn’t like her to do something like that. It was unclear what drove you to opening the file, but looking back you’d blame it on your own morbid curiosity. Inside there were over a dozen pages of what appeared to be hospital records for two people, one being Wanda Maximoff.

As you settled in to read, your eyes drifted to the neglected iced coffee. A part of you wanted to throw it away, but the caffeine driven side of your brain led you to grab it. After all, it would be a shame to let it go to waste.

Flipping the page over as you sipped, you paused as you actually tasted the coffee for the first time without distraction.

This is your exact coffee order. Iced coffee, extra ice, one pump of vanilla and a splash of oatmilk. After all of these years she still remembered, remembered it perfectly.

You weren’t sure why you hated that as much as you did, but it burns in your mind as you keep reading and drinking, trying to wash her taste out of your mouth.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

kings rising highlights & annotations

chapter 13

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

The intimacy of last night might have been too much for either or both of them.

sorry you’re not convincing me that scene was like groundbreaking relationship-shifting magical catharsis. but this is ultimately damen’s narration and his perception has never been 1:1 with what’s actually happening, in terms of authorial intent or what i analyze

They were gazing at each other. To Damen’s delight, Laurent reached out to trace a touch down over his body. Laurent was looking at him as if he couldn’t quite believe the fact of him, as if even touch could not quite confirm it. ‘What?’ Damen was smiling. ‘You’re very,’ said Laurent, and then, flushing, ‘attractive.’ ‘Really,’ said Damen, in a rich, warm voice. ‘Yes,’ said Laurent.

this is laurent being soft, but also still being laurent. if that makes sense. the one scene we’ve gotten through his pov has shown that he overthinks every aspect of a situation—the fact that he just awkwardly states that he has observed that damen is hot, in an attempt to ground himself in some kind of objective knowledge, is both adorable and poignant

‘Well,’ Damen owned, turning his head back to Laurent eventually, ‘You are too.’ Laurent dropped his head slightly, on the edge of laughter. He said, with absurd fondness, ‘Most people tell me that right away.’

damen always thought it, but i think laurent appreciates that he didn’t say it then. he really appreciates hearing it now, because damen actually knows him. the compliment has substance and weight and importance that it otherwise wouldn’t. it’s funny bc laurent has used his beauty to manipulate damen before—the baths, verisimilitude, etc.—but i think this is the first time he actually WANTS damen to find him beautiful. maybe even the first time he wants anyone to find him beautiful, for reasons other than strategy (like with torveld)

Sweet and simple in the morning, Laurent’s beauty was heart-stopping.

“you like it simple” my thoughts about that single line of dialogue from chapter 7 is going to continue to be a subject of importance throughout these annotations, as damen ~finally gets what he wants~ from laurent (not using quotation marks bc i don't want to make it look like that's in the text, but i'm being like sarcastic/ironic/whatever)

If there had been a chance for our countries to be—’ Friends.

i like how immature his thought here is, evidenced by the fact that he doesn’t even say it. damen knows it’s silly to think about politics like this, but he’s so attached to laurent as an individual that he’s starting to see vere as a person too. which is both great, bc it shows how much his character has evolved from accepting everything he once believed, but also highlights the way damen can lose himself and his critical thinking in his attachments

'I would have been trailing around tugging on your sleeve, trying to get a look in edgewise.'

cue a bazillion pieces of fanart

After a moment, Laurent said, ‘He would have liked you.’ ‘Even after I started courting his little brother?’ said Damen carefully. He watched Laurent stop, the way that he did when he was taken by surprise, and then lift his eyes to meet Damen’s. ‘Yes,’ said Laurent softly, his cheeks reddened slightly.

this is soooo crazy for them. while i think it does represent legit development, i also think they’re kind of acting the parts of people who are lot more healed and happy than they actually are. like they feel the desire for lightheartedness and vulnerability, and don’t want to deal with the things that make them uncomfortable anymore, so they’re just committing to the bit that they’re fine and seeing where it takes them. see also: the previous sex scene. but they still have big problems (see also: the previous sex scene again) and the book is not over yet

‘No. Listen to me.’ He felt Laurent’s hand firm on the back of his neck. ‘I’m not going to let my uncle hurt you.’ Laurent’s blue gaze was calm and steady, as if he had made a decision and wanted Damen to know it. ‘It’s what I came here last night to say. I’m going to take care of it.’ ‘Promise me,’ Damen heard himself say. ‘Promise me we won’t let him—’ ‘I promise.’

oh he already knows he’s trading himself for damen’s not-son, doesn’t he. which also makes the uncertain and uncomfortable vibes of the previous scene make a lot of sense. it’s kind of a repeat of their sex scene in prince’s gambit, except this time only laurent knows it’s probably the last time (or one of the last times) they’ll ever have together

actually wow yeah, laurent’s insistence here—“listen to me, it’s what i came to say, i promise’—that really nails down the finality and desperation he’s feeling. and damen just Didn’t Get It, and still doesn’t. which is interesting bc he was so pleased in the last scene that laurent was finally being honest, and accepting him for who he was. while laurent was accepting damen finally, and wasn’t even really LYING about his intentions (like right here, he pretty much deadass says it), damen is so distracted and overwhelmed by this romantic victory that he doesn’t notice the tragedy looming

also—“let him” what, exactly? “hurt him?” do you think laurent thinks damen knows what the regent specifically did to him, and could do to his son? bc if i didn’t know that he didn’t know, this line would pretty much indicate that he did. wow that is an incoherent sentence.

Laurent said it seriously, his voice honest; no game playing, just the truth.

damen isn’t actively trying to deceive the reader, but he is definitely incorrect in his certainty a lot of the time. but then again, those words were the truth—laurent is not going to let his uncle hurt damen’s not-kid, and it was the reason he visited last night.

The kissing this time had an echo of last night’s desperation, a need to block out the outside world and stay for a moment longer in this cocoon, Laurent’s arms winding around his neck.

okay what did i just say. we are so fucking back (in terms of actually good analysis)

‘Come in,’ said Laurent, turning his head towards the sound. Damen said, ‘Laurent,’ shocked and on full display as the door swung open. Pallas entered. Laurent greeted him with no self-consciousness at all. ‘Yes?’ Laurent’s voice was matter-of-fact. Pallas’s mouth opened. Damen saw what Pallas saw: Laurent like some dream of a newly fucked virgin, himself unmistakably above him, fully roused. He flushed all over. In Ios, he might have dallied with a lover while a household slave attended to some task in the room, but only because a slave was so far beneath him in status as not to signify. The idea of a soldier watching him make love to Laurent was breaking open his mind. Laurent had never even taken an acknowledged lover before, let alone—

ironic that damen was so overjoyed in the last chapter about this exact situation—that it was LAURENT who he had, being vulnerable and acting like his past submissive partners coughslaves —but when he actually gets spotted in this situation he’s like oohhhhhhh my goddddd nooooo!

like i know i kinda talk shit about akelions a lot, but the persistent theme that it’s inherently some kind of like natural entitlement of the “powerful” (royal, rich etc.) to possess and use people designated beneath them in status just truly reveals how weak and transparent their power actually is. like of course you’re going to look strong, if you only allow yourself to be seen with people you’ve placed in lower stations. some of damen’s shame here must be due in part to his akelion upbringing, but that same upbringing is WHY he got so excited about making someone as powerful and stubborn as laurent submissive and vulnerable to him. in a culture where it’s encouraged to keep it simple, he’s found himself deeply rewarded by the complication of laurent in ways he’d never anticipated, but also afraid of how that complication will come across to his countrymen.

Pallas turned blindly, and made for the door. ‘What is it?’ Laurent looked at Damen, who had detached himself and was sitting with the sheet pulled up to where he had clutched it to cover himself. And then, with the burgeoning delight of discovery, ‘Are you shy?’ ‘In Akielos we don’t,’ said Damen, ‘in front of other people.’ ‘Not even the King?’ ‘Especially not the King,’ said Damen, for whom the King still partly meant his father. ‘But how does the court know if the royal marriage has been consummated?’ ‘The King knows whether or not it has been consummated!’ Horrified. Laurent stared at him. Damen was surprised when Laurent dropped his head, and even more surprised when Laurent’s shoulders started shaking. Around the laughter emerged, ‘You wrestled him without any clothes on.’ ‘That is sports,’ said Damen. He folded his arms, thinking that Veretians lacked any sense of dignity, even as Laurent sitting up and pressing a delighted kiss to his lips had him slightly mollified.

love this lighter shot at the cultural miscommunications here. but MAN is it hard to ignore the giant dark shadow over laurent’s every word and action here. unless you’re damen i guess, but that’s part of why they’ve always worked well together (see other annotations about damen allowing laurent to feel like a person beyond his trauma because he doesn’t really understand it, while still being a fiercely protective and uniquely intuitive partner in romance and life)

Later, ‘The King of Vere really consummates his marriage in front of the court?’ ‘Not in front of the court,’ said Laurent, as if this were unspeakably foolish, ‘in front of the Council.’ ‘Guion is on the Council!’ said Damen.

it is very funny to realize how in vere, sex is basically a form of bureaucracy and political posturing. and it’s like, some people are having fun with it, but others aren’t. as opposed to akielos, where it’s also posturing but sounds like pretty much everyone who is high-class enough to have slaves is very happy to partake. unlike vere, they do it in the privacy of their bedrooms, and people are taught to believe it’s happening and respect it. in vere, if it’s NOT happening in a public forum, no one really gives a shit and it might as well not be happening at all.

basically, sex is a means of political posturing and demonstrating status in both kingdoms, but in distinctly different ways. in akielos, it’s the equivalent of subtly telling everyone at the hedge fund that you have an affluent lifestyle by wearing certain clothes and using advanced technology. you’re perceived and accepted as certified finance bro by tasteful implication. but in vere, it’s more like straight-up driving your third tesla into the office and loudly counting your money during staff meetings (i don’t know if hedge funds have staff meetings) so it’s garishly undeniable to your wealthy peers that you belong

‘I’m sorry Govart is dead. I know you were trying to keep him alive.’

“sorry for your loss, of the man you killed with a chair. we both fuckin hated the guy but he would have made great leverage” they really are rubbing off on each other <3

‘I thought he knew something that I could use against my uncle. It doesn’t matter. We’ll stop him another way.’

and what way would that be. laurent. (also, a surprise tool that will help us later!)

‘It was nothing. There was a knife fight. I got free, and Guion and I came to an arrangement.’

and it was one of the best chapters in the entire series

‘You were taken prisoner, you single-handedly escaped from the cells at Fortaine, and somehow managed to get Guion to switch sides on the way out?’ ‘Well,’ said Laurent, ‘not everyone is as bad at escaping as you are.’

laurent would enjoy tabletop roleplay gaming so much. also i love them

‘When you lost your brother, was there someone to comfort you?’ ‘Yes,’ said Laurent. ‘In a way.’ ‘Then I’m glad,’ said Damen. ‘I’m glad you weren’t alone.’ Laurent pushed himself away, up into a sitting position, and for a moment he sat, without speaking. He pushed his palms into his eye sockets. ‘What is it?’ ‘It’s nothing,’ said Laurent.

ohhhhhh my god (i wonder if mentally laurent is like, ‘well i thought he might have figured it out, but i guess not. how the fu—‘)

‘We should—’ ‘And we will.’ Laurent turned to him, sliding fingers into his hair. ‘But first, we have the morning.’

“and then i will turn myself in to my abusive creep of an uncle as a solution to the problem i’m ignoring. but for now, this is a romance novel, and i’m stepping into your genre for a change”

(which is i think the main thing i missed in my analysis of the previous chapter, by the way. i’ve written so much about damen being forced into laurent’s genre but remaining romantic despite the horrors, but that last scene was a subversion where laurent is forcing himself to ignore the horrors so he can both indulge damen’s perception of them and try to experience it himself as a relief from the imminent tragedy and his past traumas)

After, they talked.

great thing to write after a fade to black sex scene! reminds us what their relationship really is about, beyond the physicality and emotional catharsis. these two fell in love doing battle strategy, remember?

Servants brought a breakfast of fruits, soft cheese, honey and breads on round platters,

glad to see thematically appropriate fruit basket guy is still finding work, even though damen and laurent are un-marrieddivorced

Damen took the seat closest to the wall, affixing the gold pin he had recovered to the cotton at his shoulder. Laurent sat in a relaxed pose, in only pants and a loose shirt, its collar and sleeves still open. Laurent was talking.

i love prince’s gambit

Damen realised that Laurent was letting him in to a part of himself he had never shared before, and he found himself drawn in to the political complexities, even as the experience felt new, and a little revelatory. Laurent never opened his thoughts like this, but always kept his planning intensely private, making his decisions alone.

damen i think you’re underestimating how much laurent showed you in the last book, compared to literally every other person he talks to

‘You are not keeping slaves in your household.’ ‘I can’t imagine why,’ said Damen.

smash cut to the cover of captive prince, a novel by cs pacat

‘You hate the idea of slavery. It turns your stomach.’ Damen said it, a flat statement of truth. ‘If I’d been anyone else, you would have freed me on the first night.’

doing my analysis for me. how far we’ve come

‘When I argued the case for slavery in Arles you didn’t try to change my mind.’ ‘It is not a subject for an exchange of ideas. There is nothing to say.’ ‘There will be slaves in Akielos. We are a slave culture.’

wow, i’m actually kind of surprised damen hasn’t already committed to dismantling the entire practice. i know he gets there eventually, and maybe he wants to at this point—but he’s still like, “well other people are going to do it and that’s their right.” maybe that’s the incomplete part of his development here: he’s decided that it’s wrong for HIM to be doing, as a result of his experiences and tastes, but hasn’t quiet grasped that is a universally wrong practice, even if it’s his friends and allies doing it

Damen said, ‘Are pets and their contracts so different? Did Nicaise have a choice?’ ‘He had the choice of the poor with no other way to survive, the choice of a child powerless to his elders, the choice of a man when his King gives him an order, which is no choice at all, and yet still more than is afforded to a slave.’

yep, i’m a little rusty but i do remember a lot of my laurent character analysis having to do with the fact that he would rather be doing something on purpose even if it isn’t something he wants to do, than given no choice or ability to HAVE thoughts or preferences at all. free will is extremely important to laurent, and the idea of losing it is both terrifying and shameful to him. so even in situations of financial desperation or lack of power due to age or status, laurent still believes that there is more of choice to willing submission than just never being “afforded” the ability to make choices in the first place—even if slaves live under less stressful or overall comfier conditions. even the most desperate, poor, powerless victim still has more personhood and autonomy allowed to them than a slave. and without that foundation of personhood and autonomy, there is no purpose to life.

laurent thrives on having purpose, and suffers without it. and in his big pov chapter we're also told that he often has hope, despite everything, and has to regulate it in order to be realistic. there is no purpose for a slave, and there is no hope for a slave. at least with veretian pets, at least for laurent in the veretian court, he still had purpose, and he still had hope. i think the only time in laurent's life where he did NOT feel purpose/hope was when he was under the regent's thumb, which had only happened because laurent lost hope and purpose due to auguste's death and leaned on the regent for comfort. and that situation had only really changed because the regent stopped being attracted to laurent as result of natural aging, not even because laurent was eventually able to change things due to his own internal strength. that's fucked up, man. but it does explain laurent's perspective.

Damen felt again the shock of hearing Laurent voice his private beliefs. He thought of him, helping Erasmus. He thought of him visiting the girl from the village, teaching her a sleight-of-hand trick. For the first time, he caught a glimmer of what Laurent would be like as a king. He saw him, not as the Regent’s unready nephew, not as Auguste’s younger brother, but as himself, a young man with a collection of talents thrown into leadership too early, and taking it on, because he was given no other choice.

damen, assessing laurent’s situation: he was given no other choice, but he’s still trying his best :(

laurent, miserable and tired but possessing free will: i am MAKING the choice to do this to the very best of my ability, using my compassion and intelligence in a way no one else could. even if it sucks, even if i could do something else (because i absolutely could), i am CHOOSING to be the kind of king my people deserve. having “no choice” would mean lacking the will to choose to do anything but the exact thing i’ve been trained to do, which is how both akielion slaves and princes are groomed to live (re: the latter—consider damen’s musing on his father, the military, and tradition)

I would serve him, he thought, and that itself was like a little revelation.

back in book 1 i highlighted the overall thematic question: can there be honor in submission?

yes. like this. so much has led to this line, subtly and slowly, and we’re finally seeing it said outright. damen would serve laurent because of the person he is, not the royal status that has been put upon him by birth. and he’d be doing so as a person with free will, acknowledging laurent’s complications as well as his own, instead of the imitation of a slave who can’t choose anyway so might as well just go along with it.

in other words, he’s leveling up his commitment to the bit <3

‘I know what you think of my uncle, but he is not—’ Laurent spoke after a pause. ‘Not?’ ‘He won’t hurt the child,’ said Laurent. ‘Whether it is your son or Kastor’s, it is leverage. It is leverage against you, against your armies, and against your men.’ ‘You mean that it hurts me more that my son is alive and whole than it would if he were maimed or dead.’ ‘Yes,’ said Laurent.

laurent: i know that you think my uncle is simply bloodthirsty and evil, and would only think to injure or kill your not-son, but you don’t understand that he would rather sexually abuse a young boy than kill him. because he did that to me. which you haven’t figured out. although you did know about nicaise. but you seem to have a blind spot about the entire topic.

damen: wait, what do YOU think i think of your uncle?

laurent: ignores the question basically, the kid wouldn’t get hurt, because it’s useful to my uncle to keep him intact as leverage against us both. (especially against me, because i know what he would do to that boy, but if i explained that i would have to explain why, so i’m not going to mention it specifically)

damen: so like. he won’t kill the kid because he can torture and manipulate us with it more effectively if it’s alive

laurent: somehow i have told the truth and you do understand it, but there is so much that you still don’t understand

He said it seriously, looking into Damen’s eyes. Damen felt every muscle in his body ache with the effort of not thinking of it. Of not thinking the other, darker thought, the one that at all costs must be avoided. He tried to think instead of a way forward, though it was impossible.

possibilities for “the other thought”:

1) the obvious one, and the most likely in my opinion: the regent would assault the child.

damen has a reason to suspect this, because he is aware of both nicaise and aimeric

in terms of craft and characterization, this a little hint that damen might have considered laurent being abused, but eventually dismissed the notion because it is TOO dark and too upsetting to acknowledge

^^^ active repression is in-line with damen’s overall tendencies

2) the other darker thought is the death or torture of the child, which laurent is explicitly telling him will not happen. damen is accepting that “comfort” uncritically because it doesn’t make him feel as upset or powerless as the alternative. the regent’s abuse of young boys is not being considered at all.

‘My uncle knows you won’t move against him while he holds the child,’ said Laurent. And then, calmly, steadily, ‘So we get him back.’

not going to lie, i’m not the biggest fan of the baby as a plot device. but i get why it’s used, and how it connects a lot of characters, especially like jokaste and kastor who haven’t been present in previous books. i just think it might have been more effective if it was a child that damen and/or laurent actually knew—although i do understand that the baby’s “royal lineage” probably comes into play here. but i also think a big theme of the series is about honor coming from integrity in action, rather than blood or status. but it is just a fuckin baby, and a baby is the ultimate symbol of innocence and helplessness. so maybe it’s just kind of a wash.

also the confusion about the paternity kinda just annoys me. i get that to damen it doesn’t matter, but then like. make it kastor’s baby for sure, then. that would give damen’s integrity and family oriented nature even more of a spotlight.

(maybe it is confirmed to be kastor’s at some point. i didn’t pay that much attention to this plot beat the first time around)

He looked for changes in her, but the cool, untouchable air was the same, as was the particular way that her eyes regarded him. She had the same colouring as Laurent. She had the same mathematical mind. They were like a matched pair, except that her presence was different.

it’s both telling and sweet that damen is so used to having his mind changed by laurent, who ended up so much more honorable and understandable than originally believed, that his first instinct with jokaste is to look for signs of that same potential. as opposed to damen in captive prince chapter one, whose first thought seeing laurent was “he would be an expensive sex slave”

There was a part of Laurent that was always in tension, even when he affected calm. Jokaste’s unassailable composure seemed like serenity, until you knew she was dangerous. A similar core of steel, perhaps, existed in both.

i think you might have just been down bad for jokaste in a specific way, and down bad for laurent in a different way. jokaste definitely isn’t making you feel serene now, is she? and laurent, inversely, is a great comfort to you when you first thought he was unpleasant. another example of the overarching damen nice=/=good and mean=/=bad theme.

She didn’t seem perturbed by her incarceration, or even really to notice it.

like damen in the cell, internally attentive to every little detail. i bet jokaste is too.

He said, ‘Is there a child?’

he wants it to be untrue, so the regent doesn’t have leverage over him. i also think he’s partially asking if it’s HIS, although that’s more of a personal thing that wouldn’t impact his actions in saving the kid

‘I have told you that there is,’ said Jokaste. ‘I wasn’t talking to you,’ said Damen. The attending women seated around Jokaste were of varying ages, from the eldest of perhaps sixty to the youngest, Jokaste’s age, around twenty-four.

he's learning!

‘Let me tell you what is going to happen. You are going to be executed. You are going to be executed whatever you say or do. But I will spare your women, if they agree to answer my questions.’

damen immediately doing what he’s so upset the regent is doing to him and laurent is fascinating. like “oh i have an idea of how i can challenge jokaste into talking! use human lives as leverage! wonder where that came from, anything recently happen…? oh right.”

He said to the soldiers behind him, ‘Take them.’ Jokaste said, ‘This plan of action will mean the death of the child.’ He said, ‘We haven’t established that there is a child.’ She smiled, as if pleased to discover a pet capable of a trick. ‘You’ve never been very good at games. I don’t think you have what it takes to play against me.’ He said, ‘I’ve changed.’

this entire war hinges on schroedinger’s inconvenient baby

also, jokaste was born in the wrong kingdom. i think part of the reason she’s so terrible is that she’s bored in akielos. vere’s political landscape would be enrichment for her and she’d probably thrive in that environment, and feel no desire or need to establish her status by getting pregnant by a prince

okay sorry but like. au where laurent reluctantly teams up with young noblewoman jokaste a year or so after the regent stops assaulting him, and they work together to overthrow him through complicated court political maneuvers. laurent is motivated by obvious reasons, and jokaste is mostly just personally slighted by the regent’s misogynistic court and therefore annoyed, but deep down they both know she cares about him and wants things to be better. and obviously he cares about her bc it’s laurent and he cares about everything, just doesn’t want the world to know it

‘You are the only one protected in your arrangement. These women are going to die. Unless they talk to me.’ She said, ‘You have changed. Or is this the new power behind the throne? Who am I really negotiating with here, I wonder?’

damen wouldn’t. he knows it, jokaste knows it, and laurent DEFINITELY knows it. he would not tell damen or expect damen to do this as anything more than a bluff to assess jokaste’s commitment to the bit

He was already nodding to the nearest soldier. ‘Start with her.’ It wasn’t pleasant. The women resisted, and there was screaming. He watched impassively as soldiers took hold of the women and began to drag them from the room.

wait holy fuck did he do it?? it’s not entirely clear. but i think he fucking did??? is it written vaguely to make the reader have this exact confused reaction?? hold please i’m reading more

EDIT: it's "women" and not "woman." i originally read it as "woman," meaning that the first was specifically resisting and screaming as she died, and then the soldiers seized everyone else. if it's plural women, i think it's safe to say that the first woman did not actually die, the soldiers just mobilized in a way that made kyrina scared enough to tell damen the truth, despite jokaste's warnings

‘No,’ said Jokaste. ‘He will not kill a roomful of women for loyalty to their mistress, Kyrina.’

still not saying outright if he killed the one woman, and i have to wonder WHY, if not to intentionally confuse and stress out the reader. it could go both ways with these carefully chosen words of dialogue—“he will not kill a roomful of women for loyalty.” “roomful” could imply that he already killed one but she thinks he wouldn’t kill multiple (but from what we and jokaste know of damen, that assumption makes very little sense—he’s not really like a utilitarian trolley problem kind of guy, although i guess laurent is). but “for loyalty” implies that she does understand damen, and the assumption that he would not kill for the REASON of loyalty, because it’s something he respects in himself and others. hhhhh

EDIT: see previous annotation

‘There is a child. He was taken to Ios.’ ‘That’s enough,’ said Jokaste. ‘None of us know if the child is yours. She says it is.’ ‘That’s enough, Kyrina,’ said Jokaste. ‘There’s more,’ said Damen. ‘Exalted—’ said Kyrina— —as Jokaste said, ‘No.’ —

turns out when your status is predicated on power earned by force rather than earned respect, the people serving you are going to submit to the strongest person in the room. unfortunately for jokaste, she just stopped being perceived as the strongest person in the room

‘My lady did not trust the Regent of Vere to protect her interests. In the case that there was no other way to save her life, the wet nurse could be instructed to bring the child to you—in exchange for Jokaste’s freedom.’

she’s out-veretianing the regent of vere.

oh ALSO!! it’s neat how based on jokaste’s attendant calling him “regent” and not “king,” jokaste must also casually refer to him as such, not actually respecting him or his false title

Damen sat back in his chair, and lifted his brows slightly at Jokaste.

that’s laurent-brand cuntiness. should have added a lean though

'There is no way to circumvent my conditions.'

that phrase is like catnip to damen and laurent. one time damen ripped a metal grate out of a wall

Jokaste, he thought, believed that it was impossible for him to travel into Ios, and that there was no place where it was safe for him to attempt an exchange. But there was a place where two enemies could meet without fear of ambush.

i like how the kingsmeet is set up for a way for damen and laurent to ensure that the regent doesn’t hurt them, but in a twist it ends up being the regent’s plan to anger damen so much that damen breaks the rules and tries to throw hands

‘But you’re a fool to trust him. He has his own plans.’ ‘He has never pretended otherwise,’ said Damen.

true. and perfect for this exact conversation. this is what‘s really being said, i think—

jokaste: laurent may be giving you good ideas, but it’s stupid to trust him because he’s definitely also keeping some of his manipulations from you

damen: he’s never claimed to be honest, which ironically makes him more honest than you. i know he has secrets and i trust him anyway, because i know him. you never even gave me the chance to know you, for whatever reason, and i was a fool for trusting you and faced the worst consequences imaginable. at least when laurent tortured me, we both thought he was my enemy. you tortured me when you were supposed to be my ally. you have not earned my trust and respect, and laurent has, and ultimately that’s your loss. because i know you appreciated my integrity and honor, two things that you believe that you can not afford to have yourself.

(maybe it’s not that deep. but i think it’s satisfying to consider, with the little we’ve been told about their history)

He looked at her, alone on the low couch. He couldn’t help but remember the day they met. She had been presented to his father, daughter of a minor noble from Aegina, and he had been able to look nowhere else. It was three months of courtship before she was in his arms. He said, ‘You chose a man who was bent on destroying his own country. You chose my brother, and look where it’s left you. You have no position, no friends. Even your own women have turned on you. Don’t you think it’s a shame things had to end this way between us?’

NOPE IT’S THAT DEEP I NAILED IT

“i loved you so deeply and immediately and would have done anything for you. kastor doesn’t give a shit about you or this country. the way this ended between us was your choice, and it was a bad one. your loss.”

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Kastor should have killed you.’

and we know he’s right, and that he hit a vein, because the woman who pretends to be cool and detached and in control basically just tells him that she can’t handle him being around.

[emsprovisions]

Hello y’all! Happy Wednesday! Here’s more from top secret au 🖤

Carlos’s face softens at that. “Iris was…unlike anyone else I’d ever met before. Like I said, she was my best friend. But it was more than that, it’s like she really saw me and never cared about all the things I saw wrong with myself. She was always blunt, always funny. She always got what she wanted. She actually proposed to me. She was a couple grades older than me in high school and for my eighteenth birthday, she smuggled this whole bottle of tequila out of her sister’s liquor cabinet, barely twenty herself. We got drunk and she said we should get married and it just made sense.”

Carlos shakes his head, a small smile at the distant memory passing over his face. TK watches him, studying his facial features and taking notes, writing down questions that pop up in his mind. 

“When we moved in together, she had this set of cat figurines. She was obsessed with them, but I always thought they were kind of creepy. But Iris was like that. She liked eclectic things. Her boyfriend is a school teacher, and other than him, as far as I know, she mostly hung around with the people she worked with,” Carlos pauses as he thinks. “Though, there were some people when she was first showing signs of schizophrenia that were a little different than her usual crowd.”

“Different in what way?” TK asks.

Carlos furrows his brows as he tries to remember old details that had clearly never been relevant to the case before. “People with criminal records.”

“Do you remember any names?”

“I don’t, I’m sorry,” Carlos frowns. “I looked into them back in the day but it was when Iris wasn’t talking to me. I only knew she had these friends because of Michelle and Facebook. I seriously doubt they’re part of this, but I can try to find their names before I get off my shift, if you still want me to come over tonight, I mean.”

“Yes,” TK nods. “That would be great, Carlos.”

At that precise moment, Carlos’s radio chirps to life, calling for all officers in the area to report to a scene at Sixth Street. 

He winces and gives TK an apologetic smile. “And that’s my cue to leave. I get off at nine, is that okay?” 

“That’s fine,” TK nods. “I’ll be up late working anyways and my roommate will be at work. I’ll text you my address.”

“Looking forward to it,” Carlos grins. 

Thank you for the tags @ironheartwriter @heartstringsduet @eclectic-sassycoweyes @whatsintheboxmh @nisbanisba @strandnreyes @lemonlyman-dotcom @carlos-in-glasses 🖤

No pressure tags @lightningboltreader @reyesstrand @tellmegoodbye @chicgeekgirl89 @welcometololaland @bonheur-cafe @decafdino @captain-gillian @paperstorm @alrightbuckaroo @butchreyes @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @corsage @firstprince-history-huh +Open 🏷️

[onpointedfeetandbrokendreams]

Day 5 - Painland Week

Day 5 of Painland Week 2024: August 5th - August 11th by @painlandweek

I wanted to post the final day in time because it was the first fic I wrote for this event, but I do have 5 and 6 as well so I guess I'll still share them even if a bit late!

Prompt: Case Fic

Tags:  Post-canon, Established Relationship

TW: None

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For all intents and purposes, Crystal was part of London’s supernatural community. Even before meeting Edwin and Charles she had some ghosts as friends, and obviously there was the whole dating a demon business. But she was surprised to find out that there were several gathering spots that other psychics and beings in general used to exchange information, trade, or generally hang out together.

What didn’t surprise her at all was that Charles loved going there, while Edwin looked like he would rather spend the evening stabbing his own arm with an iron knife.

“I just don’t see the point, if someone has a case for us to solve, they would know where to find us, otherwise we have no reason to talk to them.”

“We don’t have to think about work all the time, do we?” replied Charles, not without a fond smile on his face. Few things had changed between the two of them since they got officially together, at least in public - she didn’t want to think about what they did after she left in the evening, and luckily they never talked about it - except that they were both more relaxed, and sometimes they got lost in each other’s eyes.

She cleared her throat. “So we are going?”

Edwin grimaced, like he had just bitten something incredibly sour. “Fine.”

They had a new client, a young witch called Noora, who said random objects had started to disappear from her shop. She believed someone or something was trying to get her to close because they didn’t trust her, even if she had stopped practising magic for that exact reason, afraid that the power would eventually corrupt her like it happened to many witches. She had seemed honest enough, someone who just wanted to do some good selling herbs and artefacts, plus she had offered an open tab to collect ingredients as payment, which was too good an opportunity to pass on. So after doing some background checks on her - which had become mandatory after the ‘Case of the Asshole Jocks’ (as Crystal called it) in Port Townsend - they decided to accept.

They arrived at what looked like an ordinary pub, with some arcade games in one corner, darts and pools in another, and a counter, with separated menus for humans, vampires, and even ghosts.

“There is food that ghosts can eat?” Crystal asked, looking around curiously.

“It is mostly potions with mild effects,” Edwin explained, “they simulate the intoxication of alcohol, or other nonsense.”

Behind his back, Charles winked at her.

When the surprise faded, she started noticing something else, the barman had greeted them politely, but everyone else seemed to keep their distance from them, it was almost like they were scared of something. She tried to ignore the odd feeling for a while, but it was clear that it was not just an impression.

“Why are people afraid of us? Did something happen?” She asked, looking between the other two to study their faces.

“It’s a very funny story,” replied Charles, laughing, while Edwin grimaced.

“Please, Charles, there is no need to talk about this. I assure you it is nothing, Crystal, let us remain focused on the case.”

She was not deterred in the slightest by his patronising tone, she kept her gaze fixed on Charles until he relented.

“They are scared of Edwin,” Charles said in a lower voice.

“What? Why?”

For how much she and Edwin bickered, she knew he would never hurt anyone.

“It is not extremely common for a soul to escape Hell,” Edwin explained matter-of-factly, “and, as you well know, I have never exactly hidden the fact. There are many who think I somehow made a deal with Lucifer herself.”

“And it’s not only that,” continued Charles, “most of the incantations and rituals he uses shouldn’t be possible for a ghost because they require too much spiritual energy, so they don’t know exactly what he is capable of.” 

He said it proudly, and of course Crystal was impressed as well, but it was also a bit sad. From what she had gathered of Edwin’s life, he had been a bit isolated from his peers back then, and it seemed he still was, even if for different reasons. It was no wonder he didn’t like to come to these places.

“Maybe you should talk to some of them, if they get to know the real you, they will know you are actually a real softie.”

If looks could kill, Crystal’s head would surely have exploded in that moment. “I am NOT a softie.”

Charles was laughing so hard tears collected at the corner of his eyes. “You kind of are, love.”

She decided to go talk to some other people after that, wanting to give them some space. She had some basic self-preservation instinct after all.

Some people knew about Noora’s shop, but none of them seemed to have heard of the random disappearances, so it was a bit of a bust. She returned to the table Charles had claimed for them to figure out their next step, and she was still recounting what she had gathered, when someone approached them. Crystal wasn’t sure what kind of creature they were, but there was something about them that made her skin crawl.

“I’ve heard you talking about the witch,” they said, pronouncing the last word like it was a slur.

“Yes, we are trying to solve a mystery that occurred in her shop,” explained Edwin.

“You shouldn’t mess with her, she is a liar. I bet she gave you the ‘I’m just a good witch who stopped practising’ speech.”

Crystal noticed that every other being in the pub had stopped what they were doing to listen to the exchange. 

She had a sudden idea:

“Do you know who he is,” she said, pointing at Edwin and ignoring Charles’ panicked look of warning, “what he could do to you if you are involved in an act of discrimination against a poor girl who just wants to run a shop?”

“You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. Do you really think someone like him could escape Hell?” The way they snarled, almost made it seem like-

“You are a demon,” Edwin said, before she could reach that same conclusion.

The demon’s eyes glinted. “And what if I am, pretty boy?”

“Oi, leave him alone,” interjected Charles, moving in front of Edwin with his cricket bat ready.

“That witch is mine, you hear me, stay out of my way. I have great plans for her and her shop.”

Edwin started muttering something in Latin, probably a banishment spell, but he was startled by another patron binding him with a golden rope.

“Stop!” Crystal yelled at the ghost who cast the spell. “Don’t you see what this demon is doing? We are just trying to help!”

The distraction was enough to allow the demon to transform their hands in long claws and lock them around Charles’ throat.

“Charles!” Crystal and Edwin shouted at the same time, before Edwin turned to the ghost who was still binding him.

“I swear I mean no harm to any of you, but I can’t lose him, please let me go, allow me to save him.”

The tone of his voice tore Crystal’s heart in two. She knew they could handle the demon, but there were too many people there and if they started going against them, things might become dangerous. Other customers were approaching, looking between Edwin and the demon to decide which side to take.

“Edwin, I’m sorry,” she said. Then her eyes turned white and she sent a flow of images through everyone else’s minds, memories of Edwin saving her from a misery wraith, preventing her from drinking poison, she was careful to only choose moments that were not too personal, that he might feel uncomfortable sharing. “I know you’ve heard rumours, but I tell you we are just here to help!”

Charles didn’t technically need to breathe, but the claws scraping at his throat were making the skin black, grey smoke pouring from the cuts. He was desperately trying to swing his bat at them and hitting only empty space, the arms moving in every direction, disappearing and forming again without ever releasing their hold.

The moment the ghost retracted the binding spell, Edwin raised his hands and started the banishment incantation again. His eyes looked like they were on fire.

Other people recognized the type of spell he was casting and tried to help by confining the demon, until a red portal finally appeared to swallow them.

Edwin collapsed on a table from the exertion.

“Edwin!” Charles yelled in a raspy voice, moving to his side in an instant. “Love, are you okay? You shouldn’t have done that, I would have found a weakness in those stupid liquid arms and freed myself on my own.”

Edwin managed a smile. “No version of this where I didn’t protect you.”

“I hate you when you use that against me.”

“Sure you do,” Edwin replied, turning around to hug him, the relief evident in both their faces. 

While the two continued whispering reassurances and promising - again, as if it were needed - eternal devotion to one another, Crystal tried to explain what happened and apologised for using her psychic powers to the others still gathered around them.

“I am sorry for trying to stop you friend, I hope it didn’t cause too much damage,” the ghost said.

Finally, Edwin moved back, only a little flustered by the public display of affection. “What is important is that you freed me in time.”

“Still, I am sorry. I should know better than to listen to gossip like this.”

“Well, I guess the case is closed. We should still check the shop in case there is some of the demon’s magic left.” He said, more to himself than the others, but he did nod at Crystal and he looked more grateful than murderous, so she allowed a sigh of relief. She didn’t think she would get away from the scolding so easily this time.

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Much fun indeed

Funny Sonny x Reader | SMUT 🔞

A summary of what being with the biker has thought you over time Again apologies for the Daryl tags

This is basically a collection of scenes me and @celtic-crossbow thought up over the course of a very chatty evening.

🚬 🚬 🚬

You and your friend walked onto the bikers' property, having asked if it was okay for her to come look at the bikes and meet your boyfriend she was allowed to come over when fhey held their bonfire night.

"So, which one's yours? There's so many tasty looking ones here I almost want one for my own." She leaned in closer at those last words.

You looked around to find him and evenfually spotted him further off and pointed him out.

"Oh? The spiky blonde one? Good choice." She glanced at the men talking and gave you a pat on the back, but you told her no. "No, the one he's talking to. The fuzzy one."

You learned so much in your relationship with him. It was crazy how everyone on the crew let you wat h as they did bike repairs and talk you through the process of it. By now you could even follow a conversation and knew somewhat of what they were doing to the bikes.

But that wasn't all you learned.

You learned that you were a lot less of a prude than you thought.

Sonny loved parading you around and showing gou off to the younger members and new kids that joined. You'd love to walk around in your new leather jacket with nothing undetneath, red and purple bruises all over your chest where Sonny had marked you up. Whenever he caught one of them staring you were pulled onto his lap, the zipper of your jacket being opened even further and Sonny's face would be between your tits, biting and sucking at them.

"Ah, hey!" He had snatched you by the waist and pulled you onto him. The sound of your jacket clear over the crackling of the fire. "Clearly not obvious enough." Sonny mumbled between each new mark. By the time he was done your chest was shiny with drool and adorned with a few new fresh bites.

On longer nights that could easily last till early morning you now always made sure to wear trousers that kept gou warm enough and had an elastic waistband. You had a favorite pair of sweatpants that hugged your ass and thighs oh so well. Well, technically theg were Sonny's favorite pants. You had slowly become a master in keeping quiet. Sonny on drugs got horny, but also too lazy to get up and take you inside for a round or two so he opted to pull you into his lap while he sat cross-legged on the concrete. You knew what he was planning as soon as the started playfully untying the strings and made his hand disappear, letting you know you should pull up your legs so no one would see the outline of his hand working your folds through the crotch of your pants.

His lips would be up against your ear, mumbling any and all disgusting thoughts he had. "See how often you can cum before anyone notices?" You squeezed his thigh in reply, having to keep your mouth shut or you'd only whine. "You're so into this, my gross girl." His whispers turned into sofg bites at your earlobe that made keeping quiet ony harder.

You never liked when people got all gropey and sucking each others' face off in public, but this?

The lazy fingerfucking was your favorite part of long crew nights, and keeping your moans and whines hidden was such a nice challenge. You knew you'd been caught once or twice by the new recruits but they never dared to mention it and looked away quickly. You almost wanted to give info the pleasure and show just how good Sonny's fingers felt pumping into your sopping pussy.

Before you two met you were already someone with a full purse of 'just in case' items, but nowadays a pack of expensive brand moist wipes was part of your daily carry-ons too. The feeling of riding with Sonny and empty your mind was so freeing, but you could never help your mind wandering to what was at the end of your trip. "Takin' you somewhere pretty." He'd always say. As a biker Sonny knew all the best spots around the area with all the best views. Also the best secluded areas to bend you over his bike and take you from behind, far enough away from anyone so he could have you scream and beg until your throat was sore. "Sonnyy--- please lemme cum.." but clearlt he wouldn't until he had his fun. Or he'd have you draped over the tank with your ass on the seat. Legs spread at each side of his with your pants dangling off one ankle and his as well as he rutted into you at a fast pace. "Gods, look at how well it fits. Like my own personal fucktoy.." His hands on your ass to hold your hips in place as he watched himself fuck into you. After god knows how many rounds you'd be in his lap on the seat, walls contracting through your orgasm while he spilled deep inside of you, having pumped you so full already it ran down onto the leather of his bike seat in thick globs.

You blessed the fact you were on birthcontrol, seeing you both loved watching his cum leak from your folds.