#and i desperately need him to have his own show

[fawnhart]

drew begs bambi to forgive him ! ˚ ᡣ𐭩. 𖥔 ๋࣭

They had just wrapped filming her final season on Outer Banks. The whole time, Bambi acted as if she wasn’t hurting inside and nailed every single take flawlessly. Drew, on the other hand, was a mess and everyone knew it.

He kept messing up his lines, forgetting his call times, and dozing off between takes. In a way, Bambi felt bad for him. But he had no right to her sympathy, at least not at the moment

Now, both back in New York, Drew for a photoshoot and Bambi back in her elementl she couldn’t help but look at him with disgust and anger.

How dare he show up?!

It was one of those nights where everything was happening all at once and nothing at all. Drew stood at Bambi’s townhome door, soaked from the rain, his hands trembling, his chest tight. His mullet was a mess, not giving a damn if paparazzi caught him. He just wanted her to listen. She stood there, arms crossed as her eyes burned with anger, hurt, maybe a little curiosity, but mostly just tired.

she had every right to be

“Please, Bambi. Please, let me in. I can’t” He cut himself off, his voice breaking just a little, the words too heavy in his chest. He couldn’t keep pretending to be fine. Not anymore.

She didn’t move, arms crossed, standing her ground. She was beautiful like that, even if her face was streaked with tears, even if her lip trembled slightly.

“You can’t just come in here after everything, Drew.” Her voice was quieter than he expected, but sharper. It made his heart twist “You think you can just say sorry and it all goes away!?”

“I’ve been a mess without you, baby. I’ve screwed everything up,” he said, his words coming out in a rush “I was… I was just scared. Scared of you and your reputation, of what people would say about us. i-” His voice cracked, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to hold it together “I thought if I distanced myself, it would protect you.”

Bambi’s expression softened, just a little, but not enough for him to get comfortable. She was still holding that distance “You pushed me away because of what other people might think?” Her voice wavered just slightly on the word might. “And that’s supposed to be for my own good?”

He dropped his head, his eyes stinging “I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was..no, I am an idiot.

She didn’t say anything, but her gaze never wavered. After a long silence, she sighed, her breath shaky “And then there’s your friend” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear.

The words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He didn’t need to ask which friend she meant. That girl. The one who had spent more time telling Drew what a mess he was for being with her than actually being his “friend”. Drew had started to feel that insidious doubt creeping in, her words twisting around in his head like vines.

“She told you I wasn’t good enough, didn’t she?” Bambi asked, and there was a bitter edge to her voice.

“i-I didn’t believe her, baby,” Drew said quickly, his hands shaking again. He took a step forward, desperate “I never believed her. I-look, I shouldn’t have listened to her at all. I was so caught up in my own shit, and-”

“And what!? You let her tell you who I am!? Who we are!? But you were perfectly fine having sex with me?, right” she said feeling utterly and totally used

He swallowed hard, a heavy knot in his throat “I should’ve told her to back the fuck off. I should’ve told you sooner. I should’ve never let her put those thoughts in my mind. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The air in the apartment felt thick, too heavy to breathe. He finally dropped to his knees, his face flushed with the weight of it all “I love you, Bambi. Please... don’t shut me out. I need you. I can’t fix this without you.”

Her eyes flickered with pain as she stared down at him, her arms still crossed, but now her lips were pressed tightly together as she fought back more tears. She couldn’t let him see her break just yet. Not like this. Not when she was still trying to figure out whether or not she could believe him.

“You really hurt me, Drew. You have no idea how much.” Her voice cracked as she spoke, and she turned away, wiping at her eyes. She moved slowly, the silence between them stretching like a thin wire.

Drew stayed kneeling, helpless. “Please, Bambi. I’ll do anything. Just tell me what I need to do.”

She turned back to him, eyes red-rimmed but steady. “You have to prove it. You have to show me you’re not just talking. Words don’t mean anything anymore.” She paused, her gaze hardening. “And you need to cut her off. She’s clearly got it out for me, and for us, and you can’t keep her around if you want to make this right.”

He nodded immediately “I swear I will. I’ll cut her off. I’ll do anything. Just... please don’t leave me.” His voice was raw, the last of his pride crumbling.

Bambi stared at him for a long moment, and then she sighed “Fine,” she said quietly “But I’m not forgiving you tonight. I need to think about it.”

Drew’s heart sank, but he nodded, trying to be understanding, even if every fiber of him wanted to scream.

“Get up, you’re embarrassing me” He stood up slowly, and she led him into her townhome, but not without a sharp glance over her shoulder as she said, “And you’re sleeping outside tonight, With my cat.”

Drew blinked, startled. “What?”

“I’m serious. Outside. With Ms. Mocha. You can sleep on the balcony.” Her tone was final, but there was a faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she walked past him into the closet, grabbing a blanket and tossing it in his direction.

Drew was about to protest, but the look on her face stopped him. The soft, determined way she held herself now was a reminder of why he loved her in the first place, because she never made anything easy for him. She knew her worth, even if he had forgotten for a while.

He grabbed the blanket, muttering, “I’m an idiot.”

Her lips quirked up at that, just a little. “Yeah. You are. But you’re still my idiot.” She softened then, her voice growing quieter. “you have to prove you deserve to be with me. Because I can’t go back to being second place.”

Drew nodded, his chest tight. “I swear I will. I swear.” He hesitated then added “can I atleast sleep on the couch?” he said with a weak smile

Bambi rolled her eyes, but it was playful now, the tension easing just enough for her to offer him a tiny truce. “Fine. I haven’t burned your clothes yet, consider yourself lucky.” She said heading to her room to grab some of his pajamas he had left there several times

He laughed softly, grateful for the small weird victory. He knew it was far from over, but it felt like a step in the right direction.

“missed you Mocha” he whispered as he curled up on her soft pink couch, Ms. Mocha curled up next to him with an irritated meow, Drew stared at the night sky view from her townhome, wondering how he could have been so fucking stupid. But maybe, he had a chance to make it right.

© 𝐅𝐀𝐖𝐍𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[deviouz]

Jason with a chubby! fem readerrr pls pls pls!!

Him admiring her as if she were an angel descended on earth and being genuinely surprised and confused that she doesn't really see that much appeal in her body like he does, but he has a way of showing his sweetheart just how beautiful she is (he may or may not has bought a floor length mirror and positioned it riiight in front of their bed <33)

Xoxo

thank you for indulging in my chubby chaser jason fantasies <3

if there’s one thing jason is good at, it’s making you feel beautiful. hell, beautiful might be an understatement with the way he worships the ground you walk on and gazes at you with nothing but pure love and devotion.

sometime’s he can see you staring longingly at outfits while out shopping, and he’s all to quick to force those negative thoughts out of your head. he’ll encourage you to try them on, narrows his eyes when he knows you’re about to say something rude about yourself, and insists on buying it because all he wants is for you to see yourself the way he sees you — drop dead gorgeous and utterly perfect.

truth be told, jason loves his partners to have a little more meat on their bones, so to speak. there’s something about the way your eyes widen and face gets all flushed when he picks you up, sometimes completely out of the blue, and spins you around like you weigh nothing.

“jay, put me down! i’m too—”

“don’t you even think about finishing that sentence unless you’d like not being able to walk for the rest of the week.”

he’ll put you up on the counter and slide his hands under the sundress he had bought you, fingers gripping into the plush of your thighs until they’re parting to make room for him. you’re still too flustered to look him in the eye, lips curled into a slight pout and cheeks all puffed up.

“come on, sweetheart, don’t give me that look. you and i both know that i could easily bench double your weight without breaking a sweat.”

you can’t really fault him there, especially not when he’s slinging you over his shoulder and waltzing off to the bedroom. the asshole even has the audacity to laugh at your incessant demands to put me down! and the so-called-punches you threw at his toned back.

another thing jason todd was particularly good at was fucking those mean thoughts right out of your pretty little head.

ever the adventurous one, you and jason have tried your fair share of positions in the bedroom, though his favorite had to be reverse cowgirl. he loves having you perch on his lap right at the end of the bed, hands roaming your naked form with fervor, all the while he has you gaze into the mirror hung on the wall just across from you both. it was tall and expensive and oh-so-perfect to gaze at the sheer size difference between you and your boyfriend.

“so fuckin’ pretty, baby,” jason whispers, rough hands grabbing at the fat of your hips with need. “so perfect for me.”

you’re already at your wits end, throbbing with need around all eight inches of his cock nestled deep in your cunt, lips swollen from the way you kept tugging them between your teeth. it was hard to keep still, hips itching to move, but jason kept you from doing so.

“jason, please—”

“ah, ah, ah. you know the drill.”

giving a desperate whine, you threw your head back against his shoulder and rolled your hips. “you’re the worst.”

one of jason’s hands trailed up to grab at your neck, lips pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head as he gave a soft chuckle. “don’t be a brat and maybe i’ll give you what you want.”

“maybe?”

“mhmm. i’m sure if you said it sweet enough i could be convinced otherwise.”

huffing out a puff of air, you turned your gaze back to the mirror. jason’s hand trailed from your neck to your chest, giving your breasts some much needed attention while you stared at the reflection, embarrassment trickling into your nerves.

“i… i’m beautiful.”

his hand slowly slid down to your stomach, sharp eyes staring at your own in the mirror. “and?”

“and pretty.”

“and?”

“…gorgeous?”

“and?”

“and if you don’t fuck me within the next two seconds, i’m gonna—”

before you could even finish your sentence, jason gave a sudden thrust of his hips, forcing his cock all the deeper — deep enough to have the tip brushing at an all-too-sensitive spot and your eyes start to roll back.

“yeah? what are you gonna do, princess?”

his thrusts didn’t stop after the first. if anything, he was just getting started.

“gonna go try to get yourself off?”

“n-no, jay!”

the sound of skin-against-skin soon filled the room, coupled with his teasing words and your pleasure-filled noises.

“you sure ‘bout that?”

the quick nods from your head had him smirking, hands grabbing at the plush of your hips with a possessive touch. he held you tight and fucked up into you like an animal in heat, like he was desperate to leave a mark on you to show everyone else who you belonged to — who he belonged to, too.

“promise, i swear,” words were becoming harder to form with the way he relentlessly pounded up into your warm heat, “no one— ah! fucks me like you!” your arousal was more than evident with the way slick began to coat your inner thighs, a creamy white ring appearing around the base of his cock with every thrust.

“that’s my good girl.”

[captain-bubble-wrap]

Your dark Quinn is DELICIOUS! May we have more!?

I can't get the gif of Quinn out of my mind from the awards last season. The one where hesfixining his tie? Can we get some outfit picking? Quinn approving and disapproving of the reader's dresses for the upcoming awards show?

Please,make my dreams come true? ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Nonnie...I went down a very slutty rabbithole with this one. If you (or anyone else) don't want 1,500 words of smut right out the gate. Ignore this one. If you'd like a redo, let me know, please!

It goes without saying: dark sexual themes throughout, just....dark everything. There's too much to list. 18+ Rated A for Adult, lol. Y'all know the drill!

"Darling, I need you to show me what you're planning on wearing next weekend," Quinn spoke, giving you a sideways glance as you passed by him in the living room. You stopped when he spoke to you, giving him your full and undivided attention anytime he spoke to you. He'd beckon you to come closer to the sofa where he sat, instructing you to sit and straddle his hips before he'd continue. His hands found the curve of your hips like a magnet, fingers clawing at them gently, while your hands rested on the top of his shoulders.

"Do you have an idea of what you want to show me?" He pressed, bouncing you with his leg a couple times so you slid closer to his chest.

"I have several I think you'd like," you smiled, keeping your hands where they were, but wanting to play with his hair. Your eyes remained on his, knowing he didn't like when they wandered.

Quinn breathed deep the smell of your shampoo as he leaned up into you to place a kiss to your exposed collarbone. His hands trailed from your shorts, up under the hem of your tank-top, to tease your taut nipples with the soft pads of his thumbs. Your sharps gasps brought a smirk to his lips while he continued to dot your skin with his affections, careful not to leave a mark anywhere it might be seen by a prying camera.

"Someone's a little needy this morning," he teased, working fast circles on your left bud while your hips grinded against him. You could feel your heartbeat pounding between your legs, just wanting to beg him to touch you but you knew he wouldn't. It was a treat that he was even letting you tease yourself through the friction of your cloth shorts. You could already feel the fabric grow cool from your arousal.

"What are you doing, princess?" He hummed, feeling you try to push deeper into his hips; struggling to press your clit on something that would give you the stimulation you craved.

Your answer to his question was simply a moan, as his tongue took over for his finger. His hot breath and spit against your sensitive button sent a fresh wave of tingles coursing through your body, Your pussy ached for the feeling of a touch that wasn't your own, of something you couldn't anticipate the sensation of.

"Answer me, sweetheart, or you'll be grounded."

/Grounded./ Quinn's definition of the word meant no orgasms, either by your own doing or his, no matter how much you begged, promised, or cried. He'd get you just to the point of release, time-after-time, just to leave you in tears while he walked away, making you think he was going to lift your punishment when in reality it only made it worse. You had only been "grounded" once, and it had been the worst week you could remember. You had never felt more desperate, more needy, or touch starved than the week he kept you waiting. But god, when he finally let you come, you felt weightless for an hour afterwards.

"I want you to touch me, please," you replied, breathlessly following his one and only warning, stopping your movements while he spoke.

Quinn's tone deepened, "Do you want me to touch you, or do you want to get off?"

"Both," you answered immediately, your chest heaving.

He just grinned at your answer, that devious smirk that drove you equally as crazy as it frightened you.

"Get up, princess," he ordered, withdrawing his hands from your body, leaving you stunned and fearful you had answered incorrectly. "Now."

Without needing another push, you pulled yourself off of him and stood beside him, trying so hard to be patient.

"In my lap, sweetheart."

Swallowing hard, you did as you were told, and soon found yourself between his thighs, your hands resting on either side of him.

"You're such a good girl, doing as you're told so quickly," he growled deeply into your ear. "I don't like having to tell you twice. Thank you for not making me do that."

"You're-- welcome," you choked out, finding yourself nervous for whatever was about to happen. You mind was fuzzy with wants and unspoken desires, making it harder to focus on the present.

Quinn's breathy laugher sent goosebumps across your skin as his right hand roamed. "I like to reward good girls."

His fingers slipped under the band of your shorts and painfully slow, inched across your bare skin until he discovered just how wet you were for him. You never disappointed him on that front, and he loved being surprised with just how intense it was. There were few things that topped how his fingers felt when you craved him so badly, they were a second to his tongue, of course. Your back arched against him as he traced the outline of your lips so lightly you had to focus to feel it. He was playing with you, but it didn't matter: you were getting what you had asked for, and if you played your cards right, he'd complete both of your wants at once.

"You get so wet so fast, princess. I hardly even touched you. Tsk, tsk, tsk," his tongue ticked against the back of his teeth. "Such a desperate little thing you are, aren't you?"

"Yes!" You moaned as he slipped his index into you, the sound of your wet sex popping in the quietness of his apartment while he buried his finger into you as deep as the angle would allow him. You were tightening against him, pushing into each thrust with quickening desperation.

Having given you a taste of what you could expect later, Quinn withdrew his finger, slick with your fluids, and took to rapidly stroking your plump clit. Your moans grew deeper, and more consistent with each wave of pleasure that washed over you.

"You sound so beautiful, sweetheart." He whispered, nuzzling into your neck as you continued to grind against his hand. You tried to grasp at the cushions for something to hold on to, but you just couldn't get your fingers around enough of it to do any good. Instead, your right hand would find the top of his, as he continued to play with you; your fingers sliding down his.

"Maybe I should make you get yourself off?" Quinn teased, feeling your hand press against his.

"Please, no," you begged, eyes closed in complete bliss.

"But you seem so eager to help. Do you want to feel how wet you are?"

Quinn slipped his hand from beneath yours and forced you to touch yourself, his fingers instructing where and how fast. You already knew you were past the point of being a dripping mess, and you couldn't deny how good it felt to have him show you how to pleasure yourself. Your moans continued, short and high-pitched as his pressure grew against your clit with that of your own fingers.

"That's enough," he hushed, making you take your hand away reluctantly. "That's for me to do."

The next time his fingers would separate your aching slit, your legs would involuntarily spread wider, as you pushed back against the pleasure. Every sensation felt so heightened, so intense, while you teetered on the edge of numbness. Quinn was grinning as he nipped at your shoulder, wanting to leave the darkest hickey on your shoulder yet he had to restrain himself. His fingers switched between rolling your clit under his fingertips to seeing how far he could bury his fingers inside of you.

"How good do you taste?" He asked, ordering you to clean off your fingers of your own arousal. "Good?"

"Yes," you replied, after sucking your fingers clean on demand.

"I can't wait to taste you," he murmured, his hum of his voice shooting like a vibration between your legs, a fresh supply of that slick nectar coating his fingers. "Ah, fuck.'

Quinn hissed against his tightening cock pressing against the zipper of his pants. Each time you thrusted against his touch, it teased him and you could feel him press up into you. He was hard, making you want to ask him if he'd fuck you right there.

"Do you feel what you do to me?"

"Yes."

"Good girl." Upon the praise, Quinn buried two fingers deep into you, for the final push to get you to come when he said so. You were close; you had been since touching yourself. Your mouth was growing dry, having to constantly gasp for air against the throaty moans he was causing you to expel. You wanted to come, yet you didn't want to have his fingers be gone from your body.

"Are you going to come hard for me, sweetheart?"

"Uh-huh," you nodded, mouth open and eyes rolled back as you met his thrusts. His beautiful fingers lost inside your wetness just made you quicken your pace. He knew you were desperate to come, and he was nearing letting you finally let go. Just a few more minutes under his control was all he selfishly wanted and he'd get it, too.

"You've made such a mess."

"I know, I'm sorry," you whined, absolutely pathetic and lost in his touches.

"What do you want?"

"I want to come," you cried out.

"What else?" He dared you to say what you wanted later.

"I want-- I want to--," you were struggling to speak in complete sentences, and for good reason. Quinn had two fingers, knuckle-deep inside of you, pressing you to do what you were told. "I want to feel myself tighten around your cock, daddy!"

You were drooling as Quinn smirked behind you. Your hips were pushing against his erection harder now, causing Quinn to have to issue you a warning.

"Careful, princess. Not so hard; I'm not inside of you yet." His voice was low as he bit your ear. "Eager little daddy's girl, hm?"

"Yes!" You gasped, feeling Quinn's fingers slip back to your sensitive clit. You didn't know how much longer you could hold on.

Feeling you had deserved to finally have your release, Quinn brought his left hand to your throat and squeezed just enough to heighten the last few moments of pleasure. "You've done so well for me, baby. You've made daddy so proud. Would you like to come now?"

"Yes-- Yes, daddy, please! Please!"

With his lips right next to your ear, he breathed that phrase you had been craving, "Come for me, princess."

Your ears were ringing, legs were Jell-o, and your whole body was tingling as you were finally granted the extended orgasm you had begged for. Your moans were loud, but sounded so sweet to Quinn. He loved how your voice sounded at this stage, your fingers clawing at his skin, and you going limp against him as wave after wave of bliss flooded every one of your senses.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered again, holding you tightly against his chest, your back still to him. Your head had fallen back against the sofa, as you struggled to catch your breath. The room was spinning but you felt so good that it didn't matter.

"Are you okay, sweetheart?" Quinn asked softly, giving you as much time as you needed to find yourself again. He had all day, and he was kind enough to let you use as much as was necessary.

"Mhm," you mumbled, your voice sleepy. "Thank-- thank you."

"But of course," he said, a smile in his tone. "Take your time. There's no rush, but I'm going to take my fingers away, alright?"

You bit your lip and nodded; your hips jerked feeling his fingers withdraw from your over-stimulated petals. However, you quickly melted back into a feeling of weightlessness as Quinn's arms snaked around your waist, holding you tightly and keeping you right against him.

"Still okay?"

"Mhm."

Smiling, Quinn tightened his hold on your, nuzzling against your bare shoulder. "How about I get you cleaned up and you play dress-up for me, hm?"

You would nod again, and he'd let you get away with not using your words when he asked you a question. Quinn believed in a free pass every once in a while.

"Alright, swing your legs over, princess, and I'll carry you."

"I can--," you mumbled, still sleepy but you'd be interrupted.

"You can't walk, don't lie to me. I can see you're still shaking. You'd fall down if you tried to stand, and I won't have that. Legs. Don't make me ask again, sweetheart."

Swinging them to the left, this would be the first time seeing his face since he told you to get up and turn around. Your hair had fallen down from the messy bun it had been in, sweat had your skin glowing, and your bottom lip was red from how many times you had rolled it between your teeth. Quinn pulled your shirt back down before placing one last kiss to your exposed neck. He always led with his tongue. Your eyes would roll closed, feeling your core tense up in eager anticipation all over again.

"Just one last little tease, baby," he whispered. "There will be time for more later."

Hiding your face in the curve of his neck as he stood to his feet, you'd find yourself smiling at the thought.

- - -

The bath had been so relaxing.

Quinn had washed your face while the water filled, and made sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything. All he had asked, was that you sipped at the glass of water he had given you. Everything he did was calculated, unhurried, and almost painfully soft. Even has he washed your hair, his fingers were careful never to pull through a snag. You were his little doll, and the most delicate of treatment would be afforded to you every time.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked, kneeling down to be level with you. You hadn't bounced back as quickly as he thought you would have, so he was keeping a close eye on you just to be sure. "You're sure you're okay?"

"I think so," you replied, eyes searching his face for a hint of what could be the reason for him still asking the same question so many times. He always checked in, but this seemed different. "Is something wrong?"

He smiled, "That's for me to worry about."

You remained quiet. You felt okay other than you were just physically drained.

"Have you had anything to eat today?" Quinn's eyes narrowed slightly, knowing you had a bad habit of forgetting meals.

Your guilty eyes fell from his face in an instant and you knew you'd have to answer for it. "Toast."

"Sweetheart, you can't live solely on toast."

"I know, but--" You went to bite down on your lip again, but you stopped yourself, just like you stopped yourself from saying something that would get you in trouble. "I'm sorry. I'll be better."

Quinn's hand found the side of your jaw, holding it to keep your gaze where he wanted it. "Thank you." His smile was minimal but spoke volumes, mostly that of how pleased he was at how well you knew your place and what he expected of you. When he called you a good girl, it was because you really were one.

"You stay here and relax a little more, and I'm going to make you something for lunch. Ah--," he stopped, putting his thumb to your lips to keep your mouth closed. "I'll come get you when I'm done. Do you understand?"

With his thumb tracing your lips, you'd give a nod to his question.

His smile deepened as he pulled your face to his for a kiss, making you work for it as the water sloshed about with you having to struggle to meet him. "That was mean of me," he lamented, finally letting you slide back into the warm comfort of the water. "You should be resting."

Quinn would kiss the top of your head before getting to his feet and leaving the room. However, before completely exiting, he'd turn to look at you, his eyes dark, "I expect you to be where I left you when I come back, princess. Towels and floors best still be dry."

"I promise."

"Thank you," he said, finally disappearing from your line of sight.

The water was still steaming hot, but you knew he wouldn't forget you, and leave you to sit in cold water. Having a moment in your own thoughts, you remember what he had asked of you. The NHL Awards were next weekend and you needed some black-tie-level dress to wear. You knew you had several such gowns hanging in Quinn's closet, you just weren't sure which one would be the one he'd pick. Mentally, you'd flip through each of them, deciding which ones you'd reach for, and which you'd pass on when asked to finally try them on. At the moment, you knew of five you knew he'd show interest in. One he hadn't seen yet.

Twenty minutes later, Quinn would return to the bathroom, and was pleased to find you sipping from your glass and just as promised.

"Ready to get out?"

"Yes, please."

- - -

Quinn laughed, setting down the bowl of lemon and herb pasta in front of you. "Do you want me to feed you?" You couldn't tell if he was being serious or actually joking with you. His laugh should have given it away, but the sheer nature of it all seemed very honest.

"I can manage," you replied softly, hopeful he wouldn't take offense. "Thank you."

"I know you can, just having a bit of fun," he winked, though a part of him did wonder how that would go if he told you that you just had to sit there while he brought food to your mouth. A thought for another day, perhaps. "I want you to let me know how you feel in a little bit."

"I will," you reassured. "I'm okay, Quinny."

Quinn turned his head, his brows raised. "That's for me to decide."

You adverted your eyes from his face, focused now on the marble veins of the island. You knew you had just spoken out of place and now you feared the consequences. You could hear his footsteps move back towards you, and through your peripheral you could see him headed to come up behind you.

"Do you think I don't know when there's something wrong with you, hm?"

Quinn's finger traced the curve of your spine through the black silk, slip dress he had chosen for you following your bath. You shuddered against his touch, eyes closing unsure of what he was going to do next.

"You do, I'm sorry! I didn't mean it that way."

His fingers continued to inch upwards, following your neck until the digits were buried deep in your freshly dried hair, coiling around it tightly. He had a fistful when he pulled you backwards, your eyes snapping open when you felt like you were going to fall off of the kitchen stool. You would be looking at the ceiling when Quinn stepped into your view, still gripping your hair by the roots.

"Have I ever been wrong?"

"No," you yelped, the nape of your neck more sensitive than you could remember. "You know better than I do! I'm stupid, I'm sorry."

Quinn's fingers let go in an instant, allowing you to pull yourself back up and catching your breath. He stepped around to your right, taking the empty seat beside you.

"Look at me," he ordered, causing you to turn your whole body to face him. "Never say anything like that about yourself, princess. You're not stupid. I don't like hearing you put yourself down, especially when it's incorrect. Understood?

"Yes," you replied quickly, trying to steady your breathing, but it was turning into a struggle.

Quinn's hand would touch your thigh and move upwards, stopping when his wrist reached the hem. "You're never stupid," he reiterated.

You sniffled, as you nodded at his statement. He knew you were sorry so you refrained from uttering the constant apology.

"What am I going to do with you?" He mumbled, looking you over as you continued to face him. Quinn reached forward for your silverware then the white ceramic bowl, his left hand still gripping your upper thigh.

With a perfect piece of bowtie pasta perched on the tines of the fork, Quinn instructed you to open your mouth. He'd feed you the whole bowl, one piece at a time.

- - -

Quinn sat on the edge of the bed, watching you as you thumbed through the hangers, looking for the dresses you had in mind for the following weekend. He finally felt confident that you were well enough to entertain his private little show. You were barefoot, wearing only the silk slip dress, and your hair was pulled back in a large, black hairbow. While on your tiptoes, he gazed at the curve of your calves, upwards to your full thighs and bum. So many places for his hands to hold, but he'd restrain himself from telling you to come over. He'd get the opportunity soon enough.

You decided to pull first the dress that he hadn't yet seen -- start strong right out the gate. It was black, floor-length and off the shoulder with long sleeves, with a single, thigh-high slit on the left side. No sparkles, no lace, just the dull satin to hug your body. Minimal but stunning.

Quinn would watch you let the slip dress fall from your body to a minimal pile on the floor as you stepped into the gown, pulling it up over your hips before it pulled your cleavage into place. You'd get the zipper up as far as your could on your own before he finally spoke to you.

"Come here."

As instructed, you'd saunter over, the slight train dragging behind you as you made your way across the room. And when told to turn around, you'd do so. Quinn's warm fingertips touched your back gently as he pulled the zipper up the remainder of the way.

"I like this one. Face me again." As you turned, his hands felt your curves until you were once against standing in front of him. "Set this one aside. I want to see something else before I decide."

He'd give you a nod to return to the closet and pick another for his viewing pleasure. The next one was similar, only it fully covered your chest while the entire back was out. Quinn wasn't as pleased with this one as he had the first.

"It's alright, but the first one suited you more. Put it back on for me."

Again, you'd find yourself walking back across the room, your heart beat quickening as you remembered just how much trying on anything for him made you wet. Any time you had taken photos for him while he was away turned you on so much that it made it easy to record a little something extra for him with nearly no effort. This was proving to be no different.

With the dress back on, you'd return to his side but this time he wouldn't complete the zipper. Instead Quinn would rise to his feet, a look in his eyes like he was plotting something.

"Over the bed, princess."

There it was. This was the "later" he had mentioned before carrying you off to the bath.

Doing as you were told, you bent over the bed, your arms outstretched in front of you, face down into the duvet, as you knew what that meant. You tried to contain your breathing, hiding that you were anxiously awaiting his next move. Quinn's hands gripped the curves of your hips as he pressed himself into you, forcing your legs wider apart with his foot. Your stomach tightened as you found yourself aching for his touch again. Slowly, the fabric of the dress was inched up until you were exposed in front of him.

"You deserve this," he said, the sound of a smirk in his tone. The smack he'd give to your ass stung like a hot iron but you couldn't lie -- it had felt good. "Did you like that?"

"Yes," you giggled, getting a rise out of Quinn.

"Oh, did you now?" While he was talking to you, you hadn't heard the sounds of him removing his pants, but what you felt next had you clawing at the sheets.

"Can you take all of me, princess?" He asked, teasing the head of his cock against your throbbing sex.

"Yes!" You cried out, your eagerness getting the better of you again, making Quinn laugh softly. "Please!"

He'd enter your awaiting folds in one, full thrust, pushing you deeper into the mattress. You'd moan into the blankets but the sound was hardly muted. With one hand, Quinn braced himself, while the fingers of his other slipped beneath the folds of the dress to flick your sensitive clit. Like before, you'd push back into him, feeling the pleasure strike you all at once. Each stroke he blessed you with was met with a deep thrust in tandem. All you could do was grab at the blanket beneath you and gasp for air between moans.

Adrenaline was making your hearing fade, but you could hear him enter you again, and again -- the bed thumping against the wall slightly. Everything felt so good: his cock plunging deep into you, his soft fingers teasing you devilishly, keeping you so close to the edge of ruin.

"You're so pretty, darling -- say it back. Tell me you're pretty."

You were so lost in the multitude of sensations rattling your cage that you almost didn't hear Quinn talking to you. You swallowed hard, gasping for air to help you form the words he wanted you to say.

"I'm pretty!"

"Mhmmmm, and you're prettiest when you're get so wet for me, aren't you?"

"Yes, daddy!"

"That's right. You're doing so well for me, but I think you can do better."

Upon issuing you the challenge, Quinn's pace quickened, and you were all but biting at the sheets. Slick fingers caressed your clit with such pressure you nearly forgot to breathe. Just when you thought you'd hit your limit, Quinn demanded more from you, more patience, more self-control.

"There you go," he purred. "Hold on until I tell you not to."

You wanted to scream. Your brain was pudding, but that release was so close, one thought and you'd explode. He was railing you so hard into the mattress you had to constantly keep grabbing new fistfuls of the duvet to hold your place. You were on your tiptoes, cramps threatening to buckle your legs. It was so much to handle.

"Just a little more, princess. You can do it. Wait for me."

Had you been biting your lip, you would have tasted blood. Every muscle keeping you upright was at its limit, but you had to do what you were told. The last few minutes felt like an eternity. You were nearing the point of overstimulation.

"Now, princess, tell me what you want." His voice was strained, trying to hold himself together.

"Come in me, daddy! Please!"

His release shot into you before you were finished uttering the words.

Eyes rolled in your head when he finally granted you your reward for being so good, "Let go, darling. Come for me."

Your back arched, pushing yourself down on him one more time before he pulled out, leaving himself dripping down your leg. "That's a good girl," he finished, leaving a kiss between your shoulder blades after you had collapsed into the bed. You would have slumped to the floor in a heap had Quinn not pulled you into his embrace on the bed. You couldn't find your breath at first.

"You're alright, breathe. Breathe with me, sweetheart."

You were crashing, reduced to a girl puddle in a black gown.

"I definitely want you to wear that dress. I'll be sure to fuck you in it afterwards, so you can just be a desperate mess for me the whole night, remembering what I've already done to you in it. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, daddy," you whispered, throat sore from gasping for air so many times.

"Thank you, princess." Quinn said, his arm tightening around you, as you went limp. You were exhausted and in need of another bath. For now, he'd just hold you while you had a little nap. You had earned that and much more.

[sylussflower]

Let's talk about Sylus's recent secret time, "Heatwave."

Sylus—the man who lived his life all alone, who never received comfort or warmth when he was sick, and who is at constant risk of showing vulnerability because of his many enemies. He has always been a hyper-independent person, believing he can handle everything on his own. Imagine living a lonely and dangerous life, yet deep down, there’s an unhealed inner child secretly longing for comfort and warmth when sick. It’s heartbreakingly tragic.

When he says, "No one is allowed here," it’s because he doesn’t want to show his vulnerable state. He’s convinced he won’t receive any comfort, but then he sees MC. That’s when he realizes—she is the exception. She can give him the warmth and care he’s always needed.

And the way he asks, "Let me use your lap as a pillow," "Be gentle," and "Hold me"—it’s as if he transforms into a needy and clingy person, allowing his wounded inner child to seek healing. When he refuses to take medicine because it's bitter, it's like he's finally letting himself act stubborn, just like a child who wants to be taken care of. Gosh, I will never get over the fact that he acted like a baby! This is such a rare and beautiful side of our beloved Onychinus leader.

Then, we see his possessive side emerge:

He asks, "What's on your neck? You were putting on lipstick, and it accidentally got here." Then he kisses her neck and says, "I won’t believe that."

The way he questions the lipstick—almost as if he’s making an excuse for why her neck is marked—shows how much it bothers him to think of someone else being close to her. Even if she says it was an accident, he chooses not to believe her, because deep down, he wants to believe there’s something more—something his.

And the kiss? That’s both a possessive act and a desperate attempt to feel connected to her. It’s as if he’s silently saying, “You’re mine,” even though he refuses to acknowledge how much he truly cares.

This scene captures Sylus fighting so hard to maintain control while unknowingly revealing his feelings—his jealousy, his possessiveness, his desire for her. He’s caught between protecting himself and letting his emotions slip through the cracks. It’s raw, messy, and powerful.

And then, he calls her "Ice pack."

That’s such a soft Sylus moment! He’s still holding on to his tough persona, but his tenderness seeps through. Calling her "Ice pack" is his way of keeping things casual, but it also shows how much he craves her care. And when he asks her to hold him—that’s a huge step. He’s letting go of his usual control to let her in.

Finally, when he says, "We should have done this earlier," it feels like he’s realizing, maybe for the first time, that it’s okay to be vulnerable with her.

Our Sylus is finally allowing himself to be open, little by little.❤️

[deviantlair24]

Trading with a Naga (FemHuman x Naga)

You had spent three months searching for reclusive species, hoping to trade for the more hard to come by creature parts. Witches would pay a high price for these things and it was your job to source them, ethically of course. 

You were currently on the hunt for a Naga, they were seclusive creatures of high intelligence. They often lived in mating pairs or on their own, which made them harder to find. 

The one you were tracking lived deep in the jungle, far from convenient but if you were able to trade with the Naga what it gave you could bring you over a million dollars, they were incredibly rare. All you needed to do was find a Naga, and survive of course.  

The jungle was dangerous enough on its own given the bugs, predators, and diseases. The heat alone was getting to you but what was really dangerous would be the Naga itself. 

You were smart enough to be cautious of Naga’s, they were incredibly strong and knew how to use their environment to their advantage, and that’s not even bringing their venom into the equation. One wrong move and you could be dead in minutes. 

Luckily for you, this wasn’t your first go around, you had already found one Naga years prior and traded with her. She had been relatively understanding of your ignorance and taught you the basics of dealing with her kind. 

She had needed medical supplies and a rare ingredient from Alaska so she had been more than accommodating to you. Nagas couldn’t go in cold climates, they were still part reptiles so they were cold blooded making places like Alaska, Canada, and Russia unacceptable to them. 

You had made sure to pack herbs and supplies only found in cold climates in hope of making a decent trade but first you had to find a Naga in this jungle which seemed to go on forever. 

Thankfully you were in luck as you finally found signs of a Naga nearby and tracked them back to their territory. 

Your footsteps were loud as you crunched on fallen leaves and sticks, the last thing you wanted was to sneak up on them. You were so focused on making your presence known you didn't notice as you walked right into a tripwire. 

The world turned upside down as you were strung up in a tree by your ankle. You yelled out in surprise, your bag falling from your arms as you swung back and forth, trying desperately not to get sick as blood rushed to your head. 

You did your best to keep your equilibrium as you reached for your belt, you kept a knife on you for emergencies along with a machete, saw, and ax. But those were in your bag.

You grunted as you pulled the knife from the holster and struggled to reach your ankle. You worked out regularly but this shit was harder than they showed in the movies. 

Eventually you got a hold of the rope and attempted to cut yourself down only to feel a sharp poke in your side. You let out a yelp as you let go on instinct, dropping your knife as you fell back down only to see a tail full of dark purple scales. 

Your eyes followed the tail to see a male chest before a spear was pointed at your face. Well, at least you found a Naga. 

“Ssstate your busssiness” He hissed with narrowed eyes, he had scales covering his lower stomach and his shoulders while the rest of his upper half looked human besides the patch of scales on either side of his face and his fangs. 

You gulped as you tried to avoid the sharp point of his spear “I came to trade with you! I brought plants and medicines that you can’t get yourself” You were hoping he would let you down but he made no move to do so. 

“I don’t need plants” he said simply, his spear not moving from your face.

“Then what do you need?! I only want some of your venom and any shed skin you have! I’ll give you whatever you want, I brought a lot of stuff with me!” You were growing dizzy the longer you stayed hanging upside down. 

It was getting hard to think straight “Please just let me down!” You pleaded as you looked up at him with wide eyes. 

He looked at you for a moment before turning away, you thought he may be leaving you when suddenly you fell to the ground. You groaned at the impact, cursing as you fell onto a rock and cut your arm. At least it hadn’t been your face. 

You grabbed your bag as you stood back up, notably leaving your knife on the ground as a show of goodwill. 

You grabbed a bandage from your first aid kit and tied it around your arm to stop the bleeding from your cut. You would need to properly treat it soon before it gets infected. You could never be too careful in the middle of the jungle miles away from any hospital. 

“Uh, can I?” You asked, motioning to your bag. When he gave a nod you began to pull out the items you wished to trade. He looked them over, his slitted eyes unimpressed as you explained what they did. 

“I want none of thisss” He said simply, putting his spear away on his back as he realized you had not come to fight. 

“Well then what do you want? I need some of your venom” You pleaded, not willing to go back after all you had done to find him. 

He tilted his head and took a deep breath through his nose, you were thankful he didn’t have slits for a nose like Voldemort, it would make it very hard to take him seriously. 

He looked up at you with a smirk “There iss sssomething I want” he said simply, the look in his eyes made you flush. He couldn’t be thinking what you thought...Right?

“Care to tell me what that is?” You asked after a few moments, growing slightly uneasy....and excited. Not that you would admit it and make a fool out of yourself. 

His golden eyes moved up and down your body “I have no mate this ssseasson, If you let me Mate you I will give you what you wish” his words made your eyes widen in surprise. 

You gaped for a moment before snapping your mouth closed, he just waited expectantly for an answer while you both panicked and tried not to show how incredibly aroused you were already. 

As you took a deep breath to gather your thoughts you forced yourself to relax “If I agree I want more than venom. I want your shed skin and nails, alonge with two vials of your blood” You tried to speak with confidence and it must have worked as he nodded. 

He turned away, motioning for you to follow as he slithered across the jungle. The reminder of his tail kept you frozen for a few moments before you scrambled to pick up your things and follow behind him. 

Were you really gonna do this? You knew Naga’s were not only large but had two penises. Were you really going to let him fuck you for a payday?...

If you were really honest with yourself it wasn’t just the money you could get that had you considering it, which to be fair would set you up for life. What other opportunity were you going to have to get fucked by a Naga? 

It was a once in a lifetime chance, and you would be paid extremely well for it. What was there to lose really? Well...Besides some elasticity. 

You followed him to a cave, watching as he put down a pile of shed skin and nails in front of you he looked at you expectantly, holding out his hand. 

Your eyes were drawn to the talon like claws on his hands before you realized he needed the vials for his venom and blood. You reached into your bag and removed the vials you had purchased from one of your clients. They had stasis charms on them along with an unbreakable spell to keep the venom safe and preserved. 

You hadn’t expected to get any blood but the vials would also keep his blood preserved. 

You pursed your lips as he filled the vials with venom before cutting his finger on his spear and letting the blood drip until two small vials were full. 

Once it was done he placed it on the table like surface in front of you “Isss it a deal?” He asked, his stare intense as he met your eyes. 

You bit your lip as you looked down at what he was offering, even if you wanted to you wouldn’t have turned it down. It was one evening that ensured the rest of your life. But in reality you were already twitching at the prospect. 

“I agree to your terms” you said before grabbing the items and quickly storing them away. 

No sooner had you zipped up your bag did he have you backed against the cave wall. You jumped as your back hit the cold stone as he boxed you in with his arms. 

You swallowed as he stood above you, now that he was so close you could see the light patch of scales on his cheekbones that seemed to glitter against the firelight. 

Your hand tentatively reached up and settled on his face, running the tips of your fingers over his scales as you looked at him in wonderment “You're beautiful” you whispered before meeting his golden eyes. 

He looked at you amused as he pushed his body flush against yours, keeping you pinned against the cave wall “Thank you” he said with a chuckle as he ran his hands up and down your sides. 

At that moment you decided to enjoy yourself, have a wild night and then never speak of this to anyone ever again. In the meantime you were all in as you grabbed his face and pulled him into a kiss. 

He seemed confused for a moment, still against your lips before he began copying your movements. He leaned into the kiss, taking your hands in his and restraining them against the wall before pulling away and kissing down the side of your neck. 

He made a pleased hissing sound as you leaned your head back, exposing your neck to him. You knew it was the sign of submission in Naga culture. 

He licked up the side of your neck with his forked tongue making a shiver go down your spine. 

“Are you ready for me?” He asked against your neck, one hand keeping your arms restrained while the other ran down one arm to your chest where he tugged at the fabric of your shirt. 

TO BE CONTINUED ON PATREON (FREE) - HERE

Full Story - 3.3k words

Naga, Double Penetration, Overstimulation, Ovipositor,

[czytling]

The one where Tim Drake has his first sex scandal.... with himself.

Everyone knows how Red Robin and Tim Drake -Wayne hate each other, right? They have a very loud and public beef via Twitter. Also, there is a ton of fan edits and thrist trips with Tim Drake x Red Robin.

The public finds THE evidence. It was well hidden, but some good hacker managed to leak it. A real Tim/Red Robin sex tape, reel of Red Robin and Tim arguing and the thing getting heated, and them angling closer and closer together, until the kiss, and the camera dies just before it could show more than a single moment of them kissing and a hand moving lower, but it was *suggestive*.

----

Meanwhile, Tim (current Red Robin) and Red Robin (who is also Tim, just from a future or alternate universe) are like "bleh. This was weird. It was weird for you too, right? I don't have a narcissus complex or something? No? Great. Let's never do that again. Or mention it. But thanks for giving me a hand there, I started getting too much heat on my secret persona, this will throw them off."

Tbh, both Tims find the concept hilarious, even if the sacrifice needed to execute it was far too great. Chaos has always been their thing.

----

Meanwhile, a look at Batfamily.

Dick saw a clickbait and clicked at the video to laugh at shoddy fan edit of Tim kissing his vigilante persona, because he wanted some blackmail material to tease him about. He got a full performance of Tim kissing another Tim, and yes they were both real Tim, Dick can tell his brother in mask or not. His brain is melting. He is also desperately trying to bleach the image of his brother having sex with himself and also trying to put into thoughts what should he do now and how to give Tim a slight intervention about self-cest without mentioning anything that he just saw or un-bleaching his brain.

Bruce is near equally as disgusted. But some part of him also considers if he could do the same thing with his next time travelling/alternate self, you know, to confirm the fact that butts match while proving they are separate people and also because giving more fodder for Brucie/Batman ship is even better than Tim's enemies to lovers, considering it's public knowledge that Brucie funds Justice League and Batman.

Damian is disgusted. Cass is confused befuddled and baffled more than anything, she saw a passionate scene with no passion for each other but clear passion for optics and it just doesn't make sense.

(Note here that if you give a camera to *Two* photography nutjobs, their fak-ish sex tape will be the most artistically overdone thing you have ever seen. The lightning, and the angles, and the shots are all artisitically perfect despite seemingly being non-scripted and caught on camera by accident.)

Jason just doesn't know what to think. But it's disguisting and he is furious at his Replacement for sullying the Robin title like that. ("First off, I'm Red Robin and not Robin. Second, working girls should be respected too and that is your own rule. I don't see how this is any different, so stick to your own code, Hood")

Barbara was not the hacker who leaked it. In fact, she was desperately trying to un-leak it, but she had been on vacation with her dad when the tape premiered and by the time she heard of it, it breached containment and it was too late.

Young just us finds the whole thing hilarious. A bit too many members try not to think at all about whose place they would rather be in. No blushing here, none at all.

[diamjem]

mastermind

pairing: sebastian sallow x f!mc

summary: sebastian’s attempt to bend the situation to his favor backfires as he realizes he’s been expertly played by the one person he thought he could outsmart.

word count: 4.6k

warnings: manipulator x manipulator, possessive!sebastian, sebastian has questionable morals, garreth weasley is a menace, some swearing, no use of y/n

a/n: this is far from my best work buttt i’ve been sick for the past few days and honestly i think just putting something out there will make me feel better no matter how dogshit it is :pp i was planning on making something romantic for valentines but… everytime i write sebastian he just fully takes over so idk have some slightly unhinged seb!!

[ao3] [wattpad]

they say all’s fair in love and war.

sebastian lived by that adage—bled by it, burned for it. for him, there’s no price too steep, no means too outrageous to attain his ends. he has never been above a desperate measure or two when it came to those he held close.

and most especially, when it came to her.

the vial felt cold between his fingers, condensation beading against the glass as he turned it in the candlelight. the liquid inside shimmered faintly—murky as mud, but somehow heavier, clinging to the glass in slow, syrupy waves. it looked like poison. probably tasted like it, too. to be honest, he didn’t trust it. hell, he didn’t even trust himself right now. and trusting garreth weasley? that was its own brand of lunacy.

he could still turn around, hand it back to garreth, pretend he’d never even considered it. walk away, save whatever was left of his dignity. it wasn’t a horrible idea—actually, part of him knew it was the smart one, but before he could think twice, the vial was snatched from his fingers.

“oi—give that back!” sebastian snapped, lunging for it.

garreth held it just out of reach, smirking. "not so fast, sallow. before i hand this over, i need some confirmation that this is for a harmless cause. i refuse to be implicated in whatever questionable scheme you’ve cooked up this time."

sebastian cursed under his breath. his patience—what little he had—was wearing thin, and garreth knew it. the redhead had always been insufferably good at needling people, and tonight, it seemed, sebastian was his latest amusement.

he exhaled sharply through his nose, forcing himself to unclench his fists. he hated this. hated being on the back foot, hated that garreth was right to be wary, hated that he didn’t even have a decent excuse to offer.

because it wasn’t harmless. and he damn well knew it.

“i don't see how that's any of your business.” sebastian argued. “you don't see me asking why you have a polyjuice potion of the head boy, do you?"

garreth arched a brow. "see, that’s the thing. when i’m the one providing the suspiciously illicit potion, i’d say it is my business." he made a show of shaking the potion mere inches from sebastian’s nose. "take it or leave it, mate."

sebastian clenched his jaw so hard it ached. he didn’t want to explain himself—didn’t want to lay his cards bare—but he wanted that damned vial more.

"fine," he bit out. "let’s just say fawley’s got something of mine and i intend to get it back."

garreth's smirk sharpened, green eyes gleaming with intrigue. "oh? now that’s interesting. do tell, sallow."

sebastian crossed his arms. "no, i think that's plenty information.”

"right, well. seems you don’t need my services that badly.” garreth twirled the vial between his fingers and turned on his heel with an exaggerated sigh. “goodnight, then.”

"wait—alright, fine!" sebastian exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. “he started courting her." his throat tightened around the words, and he hated how they tasted. "i need to put a stop to it. get them to break up by pretending to be him.”

garreth froze mid-step, then turned back slowly, his grin widening like a cat who’d just caught the scent of something truly entertaining. sebastian cursed himself, knowing there's no going back anymore. "merlin’s bloody beard, this is brilliant. so let me get this straight—you're out here spiraling because some poor unsuspecting sod caught her eye instead of you?”

sebastian's glare darkened. "say it again, and i swear i’ll knock your teeth in."

garreth, the bastard, just laughed. "and here i was wondering when you’d step in and do something about it.” he then leaned in, feigning concern. "but, say, have you considered simply talking to her instead of, y'know, committing identity fraud?"

sebastian rolled his eyes. "are you giving me the potion or not?"

garreth hummed, weighing the vial in his palm like he was actually considering it. "hm… i don't know. this has the makings of a true masterpiece, and i do love a good bit of drama… so tell me, sallow, what’s the plan? break her heart, then swoop in to comfort her?”

sebastian exhaled sharply, rubbing the heel of his palm against his temple. "something like that."

garreth barked out a laugh. "merlin’s sake, mate, you’re actually insane. your possessiveness truly knows no bounds, huh?”

sebastian shot him a withering glare but didn't rise to the bait. it wasn’t exactly a secret to anyone who cared to notice that he’d staked his claim on her—not in the sense that she was some prize to be won, but in the way the sun belonged to the sky, in the way the tide belonged to the moon. some things were simply meant to be; unspoken but undeniable. and merlin help the poor bastard who thought he could rewrite the stars.

see, sebastian’s jealousy wasn’t just a petty thing. it was greedy. cunning. dangerous. a monster that curled in his chest, waiting to sink its teeth into anyone who got too close. whispers behind his back called him reckless, obsessive, unhinged—as if he didn't already know. but he would let them talk. let them sneer. none of it changed the fact that he belonged there, belonged to her. and if some git had the audacity to threaten his place… that was a subliminal declaration of war if there ever was one. talk about putting a big, glowing target on your back.

and unlike hector fawley, garreth knew better than to stand in sebastian’s way. he shook his head before tossing the vial back to sebastian. "that will last you about fifteen minutes.”

sebastian caught it, rolling the cool glass between his fingers. "and you’re sure this will work?"

"as sure as i am that this is a terrible idea," garreth quipped. "love really makes one batshit crazy.”

sebastian scoffed, the edge of irritation sharp in his voice. “for your sake, i’ll pretend you didn’t say that.” he paused, his gaze hardening. “now, what do i owe you?”

garreth only grinned wider. "believe it or not? nothing, mate. i just can’t wait to see how this blows up in your face."

that sounded ominous, but honestly, sebastian didn’t care anymore.

a man does what he must when faced with war. he strategizes, he sacrifices, he does the unthinkable, and most of all, he doesn't hesitate. and love—well. that was just another battlefield. one he’s willing to fight dirty to win. one that wasn’t waged with swords or spells, but with glances that lingered too long, with stolen moments and whispered promises, with the slow, agonizing realization that someone else might take what should have been yours.

and in matters of love and war, you played to win, or you didn’t play at all. best believe, sebastian wasn’t about to lose.

—

the plan was perfect—at least, on parchment.

owl her, pretending to be fawley. keep it short, keep it cold—we need to talk, something vague enough to plant the first seed of doubt in her mind. ask her to meet somewhere public. specifically, central hall, right in the thick of a bustling school day. and then? under the effects of polyjuice, break her heart. loudly. cruelly. make sure it hurts.

she’d run. bolt before anyone saw her break, before she let a single tear fall where someone could see. and that was where he—as sebastian—came in like a knight in shining armor. he would be would find her, offer comfort. a steady hand. a soft voice. because unlike fawley, he wouldn’t leave her shattered and alone.

and then, as a final, satisfying touch—he’d defend her honor by beating fawley into a bloody pulp on the ground. though that last part wasn’t strictly necessary in the grand scheme of things, but let’s be honest—he already had it coming just for even entertaining the thought of taking her from him.

to anyone else, he probably sounded insane. and maybe they were right. but to sebastian? this was restraint. the merciful option. honestly, they should be grateful because he could have done worse. salazar, he'd thought about worse. if he fired on all cylinders, this castle would be ash by sundown.

he’d let anyone be collateral damage—even her own feelings—as long as it meant she’d be right back where she was meant to be. in his arms. he hated how easy it was to justify. hated that he could twist his own cruelty into something almost noble if he looked at it the right way. but guilt? it was a small price to pay compared to the fear of losing her.

sebastian is machiavellian, sure—but borne out of devotion. not out of some cold, detached ambition. and if he has to play the villain to keep her, then he’ll sharpen his claws and bear his teeth with pride. he would ruin everything—everyone, if that’s what it took, and he would call it love.

because, really, how many people in the world were willing to own that? to strip themselves bare and confess, i will ruin and be ruined for you?

only sebastian ever could.

so he stood there, hidden beneath fawley’s face, his heart a twisted knot of triumph and disgust. the polyjuice had done its work—on the outside, he was hector fawley. his voice, his posture, even the sharp, self-righteous smirk he wore like a second skin.

"think about it. a head boy like me and a delinquent like you?” he let the words sink in, each syllable weighted with contempt. "embarrassing."

he could almost feel the sting as the words landed, could see the hurt in her eyes. he wanted to shed the mask and pull her in now, but no—he needed to stick to his guns. this was war, and he was here to win.

"hector, i don't understand—"

he cut her off, leaning in close as if to inject every syllable with poison. “you don’t understand?” he repeated, the words coated in mockery, dripping from his borrowed lips like a death sentence. “let me say it again, then. perhaps louder so it can get through your thick skull?”

that seemed to pique not only her attention but the crowd’s as well. some slowed their steps, others outright stopped, drawn in like vultures circling something wounded. they knew something was happening, felt the tension thickening in the air like storm clouds. her eyes flicked around nervously, panic flickering behind them like candlelight in a draft. they were waiting. watching. the perfect audience for the spectacle he was about to create.

and still, he didn’t let her off easy. instead, he raised his voice. “you're beneath me,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, sinking deep like a dagger. “and i don't know what i was thinking getting involved with the likes of you.”

the words hung in the air, a brutal weight pressing down on her. he could hear the gasps from the crowd, the hushed murmurs of disbelief. he was doing it. he was winning.

but then, just as the polyjuice potion surged through his veins, he hiccupped—just a small stutter, barely noticeable, but enough to pull his thoughts back into focus. he steadied himself, fighting the sudden wave of nausea threatening to overtake him. his borrowed skin prickled, the shift just barely beginning. his time was slipping now.

“are you telling me you want to end this?” she asked, her voice fragile, shaking.

“exactly,” sebastian shot back, flat, emotionless. a perfect performance that almost made him want to clap himself on the back for. “from now on, stay away from me.”

he could see her lips tremble as she processed the words, and something inside him cracked—a bitter satisfaction. she looked as if the ground had been ripped from under her, just as he’d intended. now, all he needed to do was land the final blow.

it was going all according to plan, until—

“is this some sort of joke?” a voice echoed from the crowd, rising in confusion, breaking the tension. “what’s going on here? everyone, move along now!”

sebastian's stomach plummeted straight to his shoes as he saw hector fawley—the real one—materialized from the crowd like some kind of divine punishment, pushing past onlookers who parted with hesitant confusion. the towering figure of the other fawley loomed in the middle of the chaos, his face a portrait of bewilderment. blimey, even in confusion, he still held the same arrogance that made sebastian’s teeth grind. but this time, his presence wasn’t just an irritation—it was a fatal flaw in a not-so-carefully laid-out plans. merlin’s mercy, he hadn't accounted for this. he’d been so wrapped up in his own mind that he hadn’t prepared for the possibility of fawley actually being here.

her gaze flicked between the two fawleys, her expression caught somewhere between disbelief and growing fury.

this was spiraling. fast. what was supposed to be a game of control—of careful manipulation—was quickly turning into a losing battle.

"what in the great gods’—" hector’s voice broke through the spell of silence. he turned to her now, suspicion darkening his face. "care to explain?"

"i… honestly, i’m just as confused as you are!" she blurted, voice strained with frustration.

sebastian risked a glance at her, and his stomach twisted. her eyes darted between him and the real fawley. hurt had given way to shock, then confusion, then something worse—recognition, as if the pieces started sliding into place at an alarming speed.

then the hiccup came again, more pronounced this time. a brutal, humiliating reminder that it was all falling apart. by now, a rational person would have seen this as the sign to wave the white flag and accept defeat. but sebastian didn’t feel rational (and let’s face it, he never really was). in fact, he didn’t feel anything but the burning, anxious thrum of his own heart as it pounded in his chest, each beat a countdown to the inevitable.

so he did what any desperate man with nothing left to lose would do.

he turned on his heel and bolted.

his legs moved of their own accord. he could hear fawley losing it behind him—hysterics bubbling up in a strange mix of confusion and anger. even the crowd was erupting into louder murmurs, the whispers now carrying an edge of amusement. the spectacle had officially crossed the line into absurdity.

as he shoved past the crowd, garreth’s voice rose, mimicking the sound of an explosion. the bastard was standing off to the side, his eyes twinkling with an amused, knowing look. garreth's chuckle grated against sebastian’s nerves, his blood boiling in a wave of hot frustration.

sebastian didn’t waste a single moment looking back at him, but he could feel the presence trailing behind him, like a shadow, reveling in the disastrous unraveling of his grand design. the worst part of this whole thing? garreth had been right—this had blown up in his face. and garreth weasley was never right.

“damn, sallow, you almost had me rooting for you there,” garreth teased with a grin, his voice dripping with amusement. “bit of a letdown, really.”

the words landed like a slap, sharp and stinging, but sebastian refused to give garreth the satisfaction of a reaction. his pride was already bleeding out on the floor—he wouldn’t let weasley dance on its grave. instead, he found the first door that promised escape, his hand closing around the handle with the desperation of a drowning man grasping for a lifeline. he yanked it open and slipped inside, the door slamming shut behind him with enough force to send dust swirling in the dim light.

sebastian leaned against the door, his chest heaving as he closed his eyes for a moment, a brief flicker of relief coursing through him. he could still feel the heat of the polyjuice potion lingering in his veins, its effects starting to wear off, but he didn’t have time to savor the victory. he could already feel his form shifting back, the muscles and bones rearranging as his true self began to resurface.

okay, so the plan wasn't perfect. there were a few hiccups—literally and figuratively. it was pathetic, really, how quickly he went from meticulous mastermind to panic-stricken fugitive in the span of a few seconds—no. he knew better than to get lost in the failure of the moment. he’d played his cards, but sometimes the hand you were dealt didn’t lead to victory.

this battle might’ve been lost, but the war? that was still his to win. he would just have to think of another plan...

sebastian exhaled sharply, forcing his mind to settle. he needed to think—to sort through the wreckage and figure out his next move. but before he could, a voice—her voice—filtered through the wooden door, muffled but unmistakable.

“sweet merlin. please don't tell me you had something to do with this, garreth."

sebastian’s fingers curled into his robes. he could hear the suspicion in her tone, the way it sharpened at the edges. he didn’t have to see her face to know she was still trying to make sense of the mess he’d left behind, piecing together what had just unfolded like a puzzle with missing parts.

and of course, the absolute menace that is garreth weasley was enjoying every second of it.

“what ever do you mean by that?" came his feigned innocence, all honeyed amusement, the bastard’s grin practically audible.

"that was sebastian, wasn’t it? polyjuice potion?"

sebastian’s stomach lurched.

"where is he? i saw you follow him out of central hall, so don’t try to lie."

garreth hummed. “ah, well, it seems i’ve forgotten which door he went in… perhaps a few galleons ought to help me remember?”

sebastian’s jaw clenched. of course garreth was milking this for all it was worth. he should have known that little gremlin would still find a way to yield return, because why waste a perfectly good scandal when he could wring some profit out of it? and gods help sebastian—if weasley had ratted him out, sebastian might have to start planning out his murder.

then came a groan followed by the distinct clink of coins. sebastian barely had time to brace himself before he heard hurried footsteps, the sound of someone moving with purpose, closing in on his door.

"best of luck, sallow!" garreth called, his laughter trailing off as he strolled away, no doubt relishing the chaos he’d helped unleash.

sebastian had half a second to curse garreth’s name before the door rattled against his back, the force of it jolting him out of his thoughts.

"sebastian, open the door right now or so help me, i will blast this down to bits. you along with it!" her voice was sharp, a warning laced with frustration and fury.

sebastian knew one thing with cold certainty—whatever came out of her mouth was never an empty threat. she spoke in absolutes, in promises etched with fire and steel, just as he himself did.

he sighed, the sound laced with reluctant resignation, his hand hovering over the door handle as if it burned to the touch. each second he hesitated only fed the inferno building on the other side. he had run out of moved to pull from his playbook—no clever wordplay or sidelong smile that could disarm her now.

he opened the door to the very picture of anger, standing before him like a tempest barely held in check. her posture was rigid, her shoulders squared, and her eyes… merlin, her eyes burned with a fire that nearly matched his own—only hers was a righteous inferno, ready to consume him whole. before he could draw a breath, her wand was at his chest, the tip of it pressing against the fabric of his robes, steady and unyielding. it was a silent declaration that she wasn’t here for excuses or half-truths. she wanted answers, and she wanted them now—understandably so.

sebastian might have been playing war, but now he’s face to face with an opponent who plays to win just as much as he does. it would have been almost admirable if it hadn’t been so damnably terrifying.

"explain yourself," she demanded, her voice thick with an edge that told him this wasn’t going to be an easy conversation.

“where do you want me to start?" he muttered, his voice a touch more strained than he intended.

“oh, i don’t know, maybe start by explaining why you were trying to humiliate me in front of the whole student body?"

he opened his mouth, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “that wasn’t my intention—well, okay, maybe it was, but that wasn’t the point—"

she cut him off with a sharp look, her eyes flashing with something close to disbelief and fury. "oh, really? what, then, was the point, sebastian?"

there was no easy way to say it, but the truth, raw and unpolished, slipped out. "i wanted to break you up."

the silence that followed was suffocating. she dropped her hand to her side, her brows basically shooting up to her hairline. and then—merlin, he couldn’t have prepared for it—she laughed, a sharp, ringing sound that echoed off the walls, and for a moment, sebastian couldn’t tell if it was the laughter of someone in disbelief or the kind that hid mockery.

“that’s what this was about?” she said through gasps, her voice laced with incredulity. “and here i thought i was a victim of another one of your horrendous pranks.”

“congratulations, sebastian. you’ve set a new record—what, a week? a week before you chased another suitor off. ominis bet me five hundred galleons you wouldn’t last a month… of course i had faith in you—" she smirked, crossing her arms over her chest. "but i should’ve known better.”

sebastian stood there, his breath stuck somewhere between a laugh and a curse. his stomach twisted itself into knots, a sick, tangled mess of emotions he couldn’t quite name. embarrassment? anger? hell, maybe both. maybe neither. it was all bleeding together, one big, ugly blur of what the fuck just happened?

and she wasn’t done yet.

“with such an elaborate scheme too. but did you really have to do it in front of everyone?” she tsked, her voice laced with mock disapproval, like a mother scolding a misbehaving child. “honestly, sebastian. i’ve half a mind to hex you into next week for that.”

he swallowed hard, struggling to keep up. “alright—now i’m confused. you bet on me with ominis?”

“hey, mind you, i bet for you,” she corrected, lips curving into a knowing little smirk. “ominis was the one betting against you.” a lazy shrug, as if that somehow made this less insane. “and honestly? i’m glad i lost. i was starting to miss you.”

“oh, please. like you weren't having a grand old time with fawley.” sebastian argued, trying to grasp back any semblance of control.

her lips quirked into that small, almost pitying smile, the one that always made him feel like the punchline of some joke he hadn’t even realized was being told. “oh, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” she said breezily, as if the words themselves were nothing more than idle chatter, a passing thought. “he ended it with me right after you ran away.”

“and when you think about it, it’s actually kind of sad for me, isn’t it? being broken up with twice in a single day. in front of a whole crowd, no less. thanks for that, by the way.” she added sardonically.

sebastian blinked, caught somewhere between confusion and something dangerously close to amusement. this wasn’t how he’d envisioned things unfolding—hell, he hadn’t imagined much at all, other than his own selfish drive to drive her to him—but the end result? not too far off. the pieces were shifting in ways he hadn't planned, and yet, he found the outcome strangely satisfying.

his lips quirked, eyes glinting as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “i would say sorry,” he murmured, voice smooth but edged with something sharper, something smug. “but i’m really not.”

“oh, my sweet seb,” she drawled, her voice dripping with that mixture of affection and mockery he was far too familiar with. “i was only with him to make you jealous anyways, just like with any other suitor before him. and let me tell you, it works every time. every time.”

“oh, really?” he shot back, arching a brow, words dripping with challenge. “and what about all those times you came to me, crying your heart out over broken suitors?”

she sighed then, the sound almost condescending, like he was the one who’d missed the most obvious thing in the world. it was as if she pitied him, this strange, delicate sympathy for someone too blind to see the game.

she took a step forward, slow and deliberate, each movement like the winding of a thread pulling him closer. her voice dropped, turning into a low whisper that slid down his spine with the unmistakable chill of danger. "all part of the plan."

a shiver ran through him, and despite himself, he held her gaze. the words hit him with a weight he wasn’t prepared for.

"you’re not the only one who can play this game, sebastian. " she murmured, her voice a honeyed poison that wound its way into his chest, each syllable curling around his heart in a grip he couldn’t escape. "i’ve always been yours, you know that. i just can’t help it if i like to remind you in my own twisted, unconventional ways."

a sick realization crawled up his spine, leaving a cold trail in its wake. he’d been a pawn in her game, manipulated without even realizing it. all this time, thinking he was orchestrating some grand masterplan, when in reality, he was just playing right into her hands.

he should be furious. should be embarrassed. but there was something about the twisted symmetry of it all that made him want to laugh. he’d spent so much time plotting and scheming around her, trying to control the narrative, to bend her to his will. but here she was, doing the exact same thing to him, and what could he do but admire the audacity of it? she had played him just as expertly as he’d tried to play her.

of course this was how it had always been. of course, this whole time, they had been at war all along, caught in a game of endless, tangled power plays, one neither of them had ever truly been willing to admit. a battle of wills and emotions, and somewhere along the way, they'd both fallen in too deep to pull back.

sebastian's eyes darkened, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "you didn’t need to remind me," he said, his voice rough with something between annoyance and reluctant admiration.

she cocked her head, the edge in her voice sharp, but playful. "oh, i think i did. after all, you’ve been so busy pretending you’re the one in control. i thought it was time to remind you who really holds the power here."

sebastian chuckled darkly, rubbing his jaw. "alright, alright, you win.” he sighed, conceding—though only because he was enjoying this too much to end it. “how about a truce?”

she raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "a truce?”

the corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he leaned in, his gaze locking with hers. “no? how about a date, then?”

for a moment, her eyes flared with that unmistakable challenge—the same look he’d seen so many times before, the one that made him feel both like a moth to the flame and the one wielding the match, but it was quickly masked by that teasing, almost predatory smile she always wore when she knew she had the upper hand. when she knew she had him right where she wanted him.

the war was far from over. they both knew that. but, honestly? neither of them would have it any other way.

[antioceas]

" ... D-do you have to hold yourself back from... killing me? " Now that the idea was out there, that the guard would struggle with his emotions and restraint, Luna needed to know how close to the edge her protection was. Had she already tested it with her show in front of the king? Was she teetering on the brink of destruction?

Luna wrapped her arms around her chest, forcing some of that fear back close to her own body. At times like these, it felt like it might burst out and ricochet around the room, trailing chaos behind it. That was the last thing she needed. In an attempt to out all of that energy somewhere, Luna placed anxiously around the chambers. All the while, her mind raced with ideas to try and fix this or catastrophic ideas of what might happen to her next.

"... But... you're mad at me. I should do something to make it better. To prove how sorry I am for being a very bad girl," If she couldn't fetch him water or anything else, what other ways did she have to regain his approval. If she ever had it to begin with...

" B-because I was bad and... I feel really bad. And scared... " Luna desperately wiped at the tears, still blinding her. Panic rose up again in her lungs, squeezing at her throat until she struggled to catch a full breath. Her head was pounding and her legs wobbled beneath her.

" M-may I please... sit down? " It left her in a gasping breath.

"Here we don't see a problem talking ill of them. They plotted to kill their king after all." Jeremy spoke so very nonchalantly about it all. Like it wasn't the whole reason so many had died, the sole reason Luna was in this room now. "But I think you are right. He would've learned eventually. Or paid the price. But he was too involved with the rebellion. I believe I would have to hold myself back constantly from killing him."

There was another shrug. Knowing full well he was talking about the child's brother but showed no signs of empathy for that. They were traitors, she had no reason to care about them anymore. And her father almost gave her willingly away to the king, her brother not speaking up either. But like Luna said, that wouldn't have changed much. He could've screamed and cried for his sister and Jeremy would still take her away from their home.

The guard shook his head. "You are not a servant, kid. If I want water or anything else, I call on a servant, I don't send you. Besides, do you even know where to find anything yet? If I sent you to fetch me bread, you would get lost in the castle and then I would have to find you." chuckling and shaking his head. "No. You will stay here unless you have someone accompanying you. We have better things to do than trying to locate you anywhere."

Jeremy watched her, tears still streaming down her cheeks. "Why are you still crying?"

[nownahc]

i absolutely love the prompt idea! i might not make it easy on you~ prompts 1, 3, and 83 with hyunjin sound like they could be interesting <3

just once | hwang hyujin

hyunjin x reader

main masterlist

prompts list send in an ask to request

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı.

notes. been in my feels lately so this might be a reflection of what's going on in my mind

warnings. angst, talk of serious emotionnal stuff

prompts. “Do you want me to leave?”/“I’m not jealous.”/“Just once.”

Never in his life, Hyunjin would have thought he’d witness such despair in someone. Let alone, when that person happens to be you. He can’t seem to find the words, nor the strength to move as he sits in front of you, watching helplessly as you sob in the sleeves of your sweater. Your bedroom, so familiar, yet foreign now that your laughter doesn’t echo between the walls, feels cold, devoided of any of the warmth he’s accustomed to. “I just… I don’t get it, everyone around me seems so in tune with everything, with their life, their family, their friends, their… love life, while I’m stuck here, watching me, as if I’m outside of my body, like a spectator of my own life, I…” It’s the first words you uttered since he arrived here. All you’ve been doing is sob and cry silently in the fabric of your sweater. When you called, he had no idea what caused you to feel this down, was it someone, or something, he had no clue. All he knew, is that he had to sprint to you, the sole idea of leaving you alone in such a vulnerable state eating at his consciousness.

“I’m not jealous, it’s envy more than anything, admiration even and,” she can’t help but hiccup letting her words hang in the air, until she can speak her mind again, “I want to be like them, to know what I’m doing, to be happy, truly happy, to love and be loved.”

He wants to scream at her that no one has anything figured out, that everyone is pretending, and everyone has probably cried and begged like she’s doing right now. He wants to scream that, he can give her at least one of those things she’s asking for. Love. He can love her, and let her love him. That’s all he ever wanted, all he ever wished for.

“Do you want me to leave, or do you want comfort?”, his voice is soft, barely above a whisper, as if he was scared of his own words.

Finally, her gaze flickers to him, a small sad smile tugging at her lips. “Stay…”, she wants to add that there’s no need for comfort, for his sole presence already means a lot to her. The fact that he's there, watching her drown in her own sorrow is a sign that someone cares, someone sees the ugliness of her thoughts yet, he’s still willing to stay.

Hyunjin shifts on the floor, trying to conjure the perfect words for her, the perfect words that would make her magically see all the goodness this world has to offer, that at some point, she’ll realize that happiness is different from all people, that maybe she simply hasn’t found hers.

“Y/n, I can’t miraculously make you happy, or make you see that people care and love you, but I can help. I can stay with you and guide you through it, so please, give me this chance. Just once, let me help you find yourself.”

The words hang in the air, both Hyunjin and you processing the weight of them. Hyunjin wants to say more, he wants to say that he’d repeat the process of healing with her a million times if needed, in every universe, in every life time if needed.

“Help me Hyunjin…” Her answer surprised him, for a second he thinks he imagined it for how vulnerable and quiet it sounded. Still, she said it, she allowed him to guide her, to show her, to help her through this, and he’s more than happy to help the one person he doesn’t want to see this desperate ever again.

[vodika-vibes]

It Was A Bet?

Summary: Tech admits that Echo was dared to ask you on a date, and your whole world comes crashing down around you.

Pairing: TBB Echo x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1150

Warnings: This made me weepy as I was writing it. Miscommunication.

A/N: So, I've been toying with this idea for a couple of weeks, and I finally had enough to turn it into a story. Also, writing is hard right now because whenever I look at a screen for longer than 30 minutes I get a headache. I desperately need new glasses.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Your comm has been ringing non-stop for the better part of the day. And you know that if you were to look at the name on the screen it would have Echo’s name. 

You don’t want to talk to him.

You don’t want to see him either.

But you also know that the next step is for Echo to show up on your doorstep and insist that you let him in.

You don’t want to.

You feel raw. Exposed in a way you haven’t felt since you were a teenager.

Why couldn’t Tech have kept his big mouth shut?

…no.

No. That’s unkind of you.

This isn’t Tech’s fault. And him not telling you about the dare wouldn’t change the fact it happened.

And, to Tech’s credit, when he realized that you had no idea what he was talking about, he apologized to you and mentioned that he thought that Echo would have mentioned it to you by now.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t, and now you have to wonder if any of it was real. Or was it all pretend? Was it all designed to make him feel better about himself?

You jump when you hear a knock on the door, which is annoying seeing as you expected it, and you turn your head to stare at the carefully painted door. 

“Cyare? I know you’re in there. I can see the light on.” Echo’s voice comes through the door, “Open the door, please?”

You stare at the door for a moment longer, and then you pick up the remote and turn up the volume on the holo.

“Oh, very mature.” Echo says on the other side of the door, “No. Wait. I didn't mean that. Cyare, let me talk to you. Please?”

Again, you don’t respond.

“I have all day. And I have no issues making myself a problem to your neighbors.” Echo warns.

You scowl at the holo, but this time you drop your legs from the couch and stalk over to the door. You slam your hand on the button to open the door, though you open the door enough to look out, “What?”

Echo sighs, “You’re not going to let me in?”

“You’re lucky I’m even talking to you.” 

“Right. Fair.” He runs his hand over his head, “Let me explain. Please?”

“What is there to explain?” You counter as you fold your arms, “You were dared to ask me out. You won. Congrats. I never want to see you again.” Sure, it feels like you’re heart is breaking in your chest, but it’s fine. You’ve always known this was too good to be true.

“Wait, wait! It sounds bad. I know it sounds bad. But you don’t have the whole story.”

“What more do I need to know? That you laughed at me when I confessed to you? That it was all a joke to you?”

“What? No! It wasn’t! None of it was!” He places his hand on the side of the door, “Let me in, please? Don’t make me have this conversation with you out here?”

“Echo, please.” Oh, your voice is shaking. You’re going to cry again. Stupid traitorous body.

On the other side of the door, Echo falters. There’s a flash of guilt, and then he shifts and pushes the door open enough that he can enter your apartment.

Once inside, he lets the door close behind him, and he takes a step towards you, reaching out to touch you. Though he stops when you take a step away from him. 

“Cyare, please let me explain.” He’s pleading with you, alternating between panic and guilt. 

“Fine. If you insist on hurting me more—”

“No. I don’t--I wasn’t--That was never my goal, I swear it.” For the first time since the day you met him, Echo’s tripping over his own words. 

“Then what was your goal, Echo?” You shake your head, “What was the point? Did you think I would just never find out?”

“Do you remember the day we met?”

“...What?”

“It was sunny,” Echo continues, “You were babysitting your nephew, so you were both wearing tooka ears, and he was running around collecting pretty shells—”

“I remember you wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Couldn’t talk to you.” He corrects, “I was--force, do you even know how stunning you looked at that moment? I didn’t say anything because I couldn’t say anything. I was struck speechless.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Echo takes a half step towards you, and this time you don’t back away, “Whether you believe me or not, it’s the truth. And, I’m a confident guy, cyare, but the idea of talking to you when I look like…well, this.” He gestures to his body, “I couldn’t do it.”

You sigh softly, “You look fine, Echo.”

“I had a crush on you, which is embarrassing for a man my age, but I was too much of a coward to do something about it.” He says quickly, “So Crosshair and the others dared me to ask you out.”

“That doesn’t make it hurt less, Echo.” You say quietly.

“I know.” He inches a little closer to you, and you wince when his hand presses lightly against your cheek, “I meant to tell you. I really did.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Honestly, I forgot.”

“You forgot?”

“That…sounds bad.” He cautiously settles his scomp on your hip, “When I’m with you, the only thing I’m thinking about is you. And then I get home and I remember that I still haven’t told you about the dare, and the next thing I know six months have passed, and I still haven’t told you—” He trails off, “I’m sorry, cyare.”

You sigh softly, “You really hurt me, Echo.”

“I know.”

“I felt like I was a joke.”

“You’re not! You could never be.” Echo says quickly, “I love you, you’re everything to me.” He hesitates, “Can you forgive me?”

“...if you ever make me feel like this again, we’re done.”

“Oh, thank kriff.” He drops his forehead to your shoulder, “I thought I lost you.”

“I’m not happy with you right now, Echo.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He pulls back and searches your face, “You still love me, though?”

“Yeah. I still love you.”

His forehead falls back to your shoulder, and his arms snake around you to hold you tight. “Good. That’s good.”

You don’t move for a moment, and then you lightly wrap your arms around him and stroke his back, causing him to almost melt into you. It seems like he was genuinely worried that he lost you because of this.

And maybe you’re an idiot for forgiving him. Maybe you’re a love-sick fool for taking him at his word. But you can’t help it. You love him and you trust him.

“Echo?”

“Hm?”

“Can we get pasta for dinner?”

He releases a slightly shaky laugh, “Whatever you want, cyare.”

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[alittlegiraffe]

Title: "The One Who Got Away"

You had spent the evening curled up on the couch, watching reruns of your favorite show, trying to forget about everything that had happened earlier that day. Your heart had been heavy for a while now. The world felt dull without Marshall in it, without his chaotic, yet comforting presence. The silence in your apartment felt suffocating. You missed him—more than you wanted to admit.

Suddenly, a knock at your door startled you. It was late. Who could it be?

You stood up, your mind racing, but when you opened the door, your breath caught in your throat. Standing before you, looking disheveled and vulnerable in a hoodie and jeans, was Marshall—Eminem himself. His expression was a mixture of exhaustion, regret, and raw emotion.

"Marshall?" you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken. "What are you doing here?"

He glanced around nervously before stepping inside, his eyes avoiding yours. "Can we talk?" he asked quietly, almost pleading.

You stepped back, allowing him in. You hadn't seen him in months, not since the day he left you. The day everything fell apart.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, taking a deep breath. "I—I owe you an apology. I shouldn't have left you like I did. I was trying to be a better person for Kim, but I hurt you. And I hate myself for it."

You blinked, unsure of what to say. You had been carrying the pain of his sudden departure for so long, the hole in your chest growing with each passing day. "You left me when I needed you the most," you finally said, your voice barely a whisper. "I don't understand why you did it, Marshall."

He looked at you, his eyes searching your face, and you saw the pain there, the guilt. "Kim... when she got pregnant, I thought I had to do the right thing. I thought I had to be there for her and for the baby. I thought I was being a good guy, but in doing that, I ended up breaking your heart."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. "I loved you, Marshall. I gave you everything. And you just... left."

He stepped closer, his voice breaking. "I know, and I regret it more than you could ever imagine. But I was scared. I didn’t know how to juggle everything. I didn't want to hurt Kim or the baby, but I ended up hurting you... the one person who didn’t deserve it."

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You had never seen Marshall like this before—so raw, so open. "Why are you here now?" you asked softly, a mix of anger and hurt still lingering in your chest.

He hesitated for a moment, his hands trembling slightly. "Because I can't live with myself anymore knowing I fucked up. I was a coward, and I made the worst decision of my life when I walked away from you. I thought it was the right thing to do, but... it wasn’t. You were always the one I needed. The one I wanted. And I fucked it up."

The tears that you had been holding back spilled over, and you wiped your face, trying to hide the pain. "But it's too late, Marshall. You made your choice."

He shook his head, his eyes desperate. "Please... don't say that. I know I can't change the past, but I can try to make things right. I can try to show you how sorry I am. I’ve been an idiot."

For a moment, you said nothing. Your mind was racing, torn between the anger of the past and the feelings you still had for him. You wanted to push him away, to tell him it was too late, but part of you, the part that had never stopped loving him, couldn't do it.

Slowly, you took a step forward, closing the space between you. "You hurt me, Marshall. You left me when I needed you the most."

He nodded, tears welling up in his eyes. "I know. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry."

You searched his face, the man who had once been your everything. "Why now?" you asked again, your voice shaky. "Why come back now, after all this time?"

"Because I’m done lying to myself," he replied, his voice filled with raw emotion. "I was an asshole, and I was afraid of my own feelings. But now, I know the truth. I love you. I always have, and I always will. I was just too fucking scared to admit it."

Your breath caught in your throat. Could this be real? Could he really mean this?

"Marshall..." you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest.

He reached out, taking your hand gently in his, as if afraid you'd pull away. "I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please... can we try again? Can we start over?"

You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there, and for the first time in months, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe—just maybe—this was what you needed too.

With a shaky breath, you nodded. "Yeah... we can try."

And for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.

----

A/N this could be a new series guys I swear this is so cute and angsty.

[lovely080222]

Caitlyn Kiramman and the Crown 

Caitlyn Kiramman has the most interesting arc from both seasons. From a morally idealistic character to a morally nuanced protagonist. 

Being the daughter of a counselor and a doctor, Caitlyn Kiramman has a mantle of a kingdom on her shoulders that has yet to sink in during S1. Therefore, Caitlyn went her way to become an enforcer, despite her parents’ approval. Enhance why her color scheme is purple.

But before that, we need to remember that this woman survived an explosion at a young age, while helping her friend, to which considers her brother, and it’s her parents’ protege, Jayce Talis. Carrying equipment for his investigation, in which she dropped, warning the others (Vi & Co.) that were inside the studio apartment. This was unintentional from her part, however, it marks a significant part of her story is. 

Caitlyn could have always said, “Mother, Jayce put me in danger, therefore, we shouldn’t trust him” after that accident. But she doesn’t. Why? It all comes down to one thing 

Power. 

Caitlyn, even as a child, understands power. The power that she has and how it can be used. Obviously, she doesn’t understand it completely, but she does in a surface level to not say something along the lines “I want him out of our lives.” 

Because of that and other reasons, her mother Cassandra Kiramman tries to help her protegé, though it was futile since Jayce screwed himself, but that’s on another analysis. 

Now, Caitlyn is a sheltered kid. Meaning that she has been put in this golden bubble for her ‘safety’ and content. Thanks to that, Caitlyn has an idealistic view of the world that surrounds her. Meaning her words “I’m a miss fit too, I suppose.” Talk about her nativity in life but also she might not be afraid to step out of the comfort zone.

And due to that, she signs up to be an enforcer, regardless of what her parents, especially her mother, thought of it.

Caitlyn wanted to see the REAL world and protect it, put the vision she has, just like Grayson did. Next time we see her, in S1, she is in her uniform in front of a tent (under instructions of Sheriff Marcus and her mother) which seems irritated by it.

When the attack happened, for amusement and wanting to be useful, and not being posted in a tent which we all know her mother didn’t need protection, Caitlyn partook the investigation that Marcus was avoiding to get It detail. Especially after the explosion that happened in that same night.

Marcus seeing the threat and determination of Miss Caitlyn I walk through everything because I feel the need to check on it Kiramman and her parents’ concern of her being on the field, they make the decision to cut her loose from being an enforcer.

Caitlyn knowing this through Jayce, is furious by this. After he made his proposal of her working for him in his ministry of security. In which, out of entitlement, sense of curiosity, justice and idealistic morality, she starts to investigate on her own. Using her resources, her power.

Once Caitlyn gets to Stillwater, pretending to still be an enforcer, with the purpose of talking to the witness. When she finds out that her witness for the case is injured by an inmate, asks who it is. Obviously the guard knows who she is, or more like, who her parents are. He gave the intel on who was, which leads to Caitlyn to ask them questions.

When she finds out who it is and gets to their cell, Caitlyn starts to interrogate her. Her is Vi, inmate 516. In this scene, Caitlyn doesn’t ask indirect questions, she is very open on what she is looking for and doesn’t hesitate on questioning it. And Vi, deviates them. While Caitlyn, who expects answers immediately (part of it is part of being spoiled other is that she is a police woman), grows frustrated until Vi mentions a name. Silco.

Caitlyn, on detective mode and desperate for answers, crosses the red line, deciding to maybe I should trust her. Caitlyn shows Vi her evidence, and demands the answers that she was looking for, however she is presented with a problem. She needs to release Vi to gather the prof she needs to state her case to the Sheriff.

Caitlyn knowing her sources, she takes advantage of them. Using Jayce’s name to get Vi out. Why not her mother’s? Logically, because they would question her mother, risking her to intervene in her investigation. Caitlyn understands that she has to play dirty to get what she wants.

Now, let’s cover the scene. The parkour scene. Caitlyn is a ‘proper lady’, raised in the environment of class, manners and politeness. Meaning that the moves that Vi did, Caitlyn would never pulled them off, especially with the attire that she had, which is her regular uniform as a guard. This showcases the differences between with their upbringing and the striking nature of both of them.

Later, Caitlyn, obviously not trusting Vi, questions her at every walking moment. Her mistrust comes from a lot of things, one she is a zaunite, she must be someone who is completely accustomed to trouble and, that she is a stranger. That trust almost happens when she saves Vi from Sevika, but other than that, she doesn’t know Vi to just jump to her and say: ”save me”.

That’s why when Caitlyn attempts to make a joke about the last drop: “looks like that place has bodies buried in there.” Vi lashes out to her, portraying a boundary and shut her off. Personally, I found it funny but that’s because my humor is somewhat twisted.

Now the legendary sapphic scene ever: the cupcake scene. For obvious reasons, Caitlyn is unsure of where and what to do, giving an opportunity for Vi to rizz her up and distract her for a minute or two. In Caitlyn’s point of view, she is concerned that she might be out of her comfort zone. In this scenario, she has no control of how things are going to play. But once as we later see, she becomes a huntress, her real nature.

Caitlyn is a hunter, she knows her prey and its surroundings. She knows how to play those cards once she is ahead. We see this too when she tries to cause the collapse of the old house when Silco found them.

But when it came down to Jinx, Caitlyn looses that control, why? Vi. At this point in the story, even though is not an open feeling, but Caitlyn cares for Vi, not romantically (yet but there is a tension) but cares enough for her to want to protect her and help in ways that she can. And because of that we end up with Ekko and the firelights.

Now, covering the discussions that Caitlyn has had with various characters about the war morality, in which Caitlyn has an idealistic view and Ekko has a more aggressive one. This also happens in the meeting with the council, in which Jayce takes an aggressive approach while Caitlyn takes a more idealistic solution. Both of this cause an effect on how things are going to proceed, for the better of the worse.

One, it was a wake up call for Caitlyn when she discussed with Ekko about the stone. It made her realize the issues within the city and the fucked situation that was going on. While with Jayce and council, it was running in circles nonstop, the council mostly being blind and pinning every problem to the zaunites while Caitlyn and Vi were trying to make them aware of the issues that they caused.

With the attack caused by Jinx and Vi coming back to her despite Vi wanting to help her sister, just for later after the meeting with the council was a failure, the concept of oil and water comes up. Caitlyn is water, purity and pristine, something that we see that it disappoints her but also frustrates her, she now realizing that not only she trust Vi, she loves her. And just when she comes to that awakening, she is kidnapped by Jinx.

From what we see on screen, Jinx might have spooked Caitlyn so much that she is deeply terrified but also worried once she sees that Vi is there too. And in a desperate attempt to protect Vi, she makes a bold move, trying to kill Jinx. But since Jinx in enhanced and Vi pleaded her not to kill Jinx, it was a futile effort that ended up her being knocked out and without a mother.

Grief can change a person, and that’s what happened to Caitlyn Kiramman. After the bomb attack, Caitlyn looses control (all of it). But that control is loose slowly. At first, it starts with her emotions when she hugs Vi, the second is when Vi rejects being an enforcer and third is in the memorial attack.

“I had the shot”

But she regains it, however is not into the Caitlyn that we know. No. Caitlyn is not just Caitlyn, she is a Kiramman. Caitlyn is claiming that identity, transforming into her counterpart, a part that has been there, her powerhouse tactic. The ruthless hunter.

“It’s the Kiramman name…it bewitches people”

“I’m a con decorated officer. Leader of House Kiramman. Address me with respect or keep your mouth shut.”

The crown is in the tip of her head, signifying the world and the burden that now she carries. And with every single action that she does the more she fits into that crown. And cover the next point, the separation.

Through Caitlyn’s eyes, Vi betrayed her. How? By her not letting shut Jinx. Let’s face it, Caitlyn had the shot, again. It brings us back to S1, EP9. But this is another detail that I noticed.

“This isn’t on own terms.”

This confrontation, is not on Caitlyn’s nor Vi’s terms, is on Jinx’s. Meaning that neither the plans nor the intentions aligned to either original plans. Caitlyn wanted to bring Jinx to justice, but also it transformed into a seed of vengeance with a strong desire to kill her. Vi, out of guilt and having a moral compass, joins the enforcers to shut down Jinx, only to find herself in a torn situation. And Jinx, had intentions to kill all, whether it was her or Vi, her plans end up being jinxed by Isha but she has what she wanted, a fight.

Now having this in mind, Caitlyn is desperate to make amends, to put the criminal that killed her mother in misery now being stopped by not only the sister of said criminal but also the love of her life. That is where her rage comes from after S2 EP3. She loves Vi but she needs to be the Kiramman Piltover needs. Caitlyn needs Jinx out of the picture. And every reminder of her, and one of them is Vi.

When we see Caitlyn back in Piltover, she has changed. She is in the Kiramman persona. Ruthless hunter and politician with a sense of violent justice, which now will be fueled and shaped by Ambessa Medarda.

How will that happen? Simple. Make Kiramman a Commander.

In next episodes, we know months have passed. Caitlyn is having sex with Maddie Nolan, part of her filling the shoes of being Kiramman and trying to avoid her deep emotions about certain someone (cough Vi cough). From this moment one, we can notice her “relationship” with Nolan is strictly out of control than out of love. And let’s be honest, Caitlyn never trusted Maddie with her emotions only her concerns about her ruling, nothing else. It can beg the question that maybe Caitlyn might have been aware that Nolan was up to something.

By the time of EP4 and EP6, we see Caitlyn shift again, however, more into what we knew of her. Caitlyn starts questioning Ambessa’s methods.

“Why peace is always the justification for violence?”

She is opening her eyes, from our point of view. However, we can see a barrier between Caitlyn and Ambessa from the Paint The Town Blue montage. And Caitlyn’s questioning goes further and bolder after confirming her suspicions of Singed.

Now, the scene with Singed and her new found information, Caitlyn comes to two realizations: one, Singed is bad, but she can understand and sympathize with his reasons. And two, this is the same reason why she did what she did.

"...For love"

Let’s take on account what happened from S1 to S2. Caitlyn loves her job, and believed in a system that Grayson (her mentor and someone who seems she trusted in) practiced. Later, through the same job, Caitlyn meets the love of her life, Vi. Then her mother dies trying to protect the person she loves from her sister. Failing at it because of the same reason, love. Later Caitlyn proposed to Vi to be part of the enforcers, out of love and protectiveness. Because Caitlyn doesn’t want Vi to die trying to get to her sister. She doesn’t want Vi to suffer if she is the one that ends up dead.

Using the Grey was out of vengeance and need to protect Piltover from Jinx, but it was rooted out of love for her mother, despite their differences. It was always bout love.

And that makes Caitlyn Kiramman interesting. She does have morals, ideals and beliefs overall good, however, her means are understandable at best and questionable at worst. She comes to this conclusion when she meets Singed and confronted him. 

Which is why, seeing the dark turns she took because of it, Caitlyn knows she has to set the record straight. But it wasn’t her time to strike, she is a huntress after all, she has a timing for everything. And during her fight-training with Ambessa wasn’t one of them, neither when she was with Ambessa in her office. 

That is the reason why the Grey was used in sections instead of just doing in all of Zaun. Yes, if we go to our laws, it is a war crime. But we know that the options given for Caitlyn to act on was a full scale invasion, which no one, even Zaun, was ready for. Or, Caitlyn using the gas and having a strike team to terminate Jinx and the remaining of Shimmer and its distributors in strategic attacks, and lowering the numbers on casualties. 

Taking this in consideration, that is how why see Caitlyn outside of the tents when Vi is following Singed. Caitlyn had knew she needed to do something before Ambessa acquired Warwick. 

Caitlyn betrays Ambessa, not just because of Vi, but because Caitlyn knows that the path that Ambessa is taking ain’t it. Caitlyn’s plan to attack is completed once Vi is in the picture. 

Which is one step ahead to amend the things that she did. And what is it? Hurting Vi and everything she believed in, in order to pursuit a vain justice. In order to become a Kiramman and not Caitlyn Kiramman. 

Now, EP8 had a lot of things going on with her character, but it all boils down to her taking a step forward from her grief and live, even if she ends up heartbroken in the process. Caitlyn knows that she messed up, between her and Vi, and everything else. For doing what she thought was right, for letting Ambessa take control of almost everything of Piltover. 

“We can’t erase our mistakes”

“No amount of good deeds can undo OUR CRIMES” 

Caitlyn is holding herself in the same standard that she does with Jinx. She considers her and Jinx criminals because she knows that she had committed crimes in order to do good, or the good that she thought she was doing. 

And that is the reason why she lets Vi decide what to do with Jinx. Despite knowing by law that she shouldn’t. She trusts Vi with that decision than herself. Caitlyn can’t forget what happened to her mother, even if she made her mind into forgiving Jinx. Therefore, she rather lose Vi in the process of letting Vi choose her sister than lose Vi again for Caitlyn choosing for her.

We know the outcome, in another analysis I’ll explain further the importance of this scene, but this not the one. However, I’ll briefly talk her point of view.

Caitlyn wasn’t shocked but that doesn’t mean that she didn’t think of that possibility. In this moment, Caitlyn is seeing Vi vulnerable and truthful about it for what it feels the first time. Now Caitlyn has the decision if to let Vi drift away with herself deprecating or she clarifies that this was her intention all along.

And Caitlyn does the latter, she chose to tell Vi that it was okay. She wasn’t mad at her, She knew this would happen and that she wanted the decision to be from Vi. And for that reason she does tell Vi briefly about Maddie, just for Vi to shut her off.

“Cait…I don’t fucking care”

And Caitlyn loves Vi so much that she would let her go in other for Vi to be happy. That is why she felt remorse when she saw Vi’s wound. Again, regretting what she did to her. But we know what happened next.

Finally, the battle. Caitlyn fights Ambessa, with disadvantage because she was stabbed by Ambessa and Maddie knocked her out. Even with that, she had to try, again her huntress side came out. But now is not about her seeing and strategically attacking the prey, Caitlyn is doing an offense impulsively with direct and “desperate” attacks (Vi must have rob to her, somehow).

But the thing is, they weren’t. She knew the aim was Ambessa’s stones. That was the prey Caitlyn was after. And she did it, thanks to Mel’s aid. But the cost? Her eye.

This goes back to the principals of combat that Ambessa taught her. Sacrifice. And that is what she did.

Now, Maddie’s betrayal didn’t affect Caitlyn as much as anyone would think of. Of course Caitlyn might have been disappointed but she clearly wasn’t surprised at all but the revelation. Again, Caitlyn wasn’t full open to Maddie in ways that she is with Vi.

Caitlyn must have given up her seat at the council and started anew. With Vi. Who she asked if she was willing to be with her, and fighting along side her if it came down to it. Caitlyn is asking out of vulnerability, she knows that this is only the beginning of a new era they might face. She knows that despite all, Caitlyn has to face new things that are outside of her.

“Are you still in this fight, Violet?”

“I’m the dirt under your nails, cupcake…nothings gonna clean me out.”

References:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p33fNI6_DY

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MDDT924nbSw

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5gJ2vC1wY0o

Thank you so much for voting, see ya in the next time

~lovely

P.S. Comment respectfully, ty!!!!

[more-mara]

Omg I forgot about this WIP.

Here’s 550 words of unfinished Vampire! Lando and Human! Oscar.

Lando couldn't exactly place when everything changed. When his mindset suddenly shifted. When feeding from humans no longer seemed immoral.

The iron clad smell of their blood alone was enough to send him into a frenzy, to feel the humans quickening pulse against his own still chest- to bite down and feed on their life force. It was dizzying most of the time, but Lando couldn’t get enough.

“Show me,” Lando grumbled, leaning down towards his human, pressing two of his fingers against the boys cheek to encourage him to turn his head. He did so obediently, blinking up at Lando with an unfocused gaze as he bared his neck- showing off the fresh puncture marks on his skin, surrounded by the faded mess of purple and blue.

“So pretty like this, Osc,” Lando whispered, leaning down to lick against the sensitive skin. Oscar whined quietly, one of his hands dropping down onto Landos thigh for purchase.

“Please,” Oscar begged, his voice low and lulling. Breathless. Lando pulled back with a smirk, his hands coming to cup Oscar’s cheeks. Oscar’s pale skin almost glowed against Landos in the dim candlelight, if Lando didn’t know any better, he’d assume that Oscar was the vampire.

“Hm?” Lando asked with a quirk of a brow as he pressed his fingers against the still bleeding wounds on Oscar’s neck.

“Please,” He repeated, as his hands found their way into Landos curls to tug him towards his neck. Lando chuckled but went with it, grazing his fangs against Oscar’s shoulder. Oscar gasped, back arching against the wall that he’d been slumped against.

Lando could never experience it, but Oscar often described a vampire bite as being a little bit like a sudden orgasm. It’s euphoric, apparently. Maybe that’s why Oscar begs Lando to bite him when they fuck- double the pleasure. Landos never actually trusted himself to do it though, not yet anyway. He didn’t think he’d be able to control himself to not take it too far and accidentally drain Oscar in the haze of a good fuck. Not that Oscar would mind, apparently.

“Please what?” Lando asked, his fangs getting oh so close to Oscar’s pulse point. Oscar squirmed beneath him, rutting closer.

“Bite me Lando, please,” Oscar begged, grip tightening in Landos hair. Lando chuckled as he pulled away, mildly enjoying the anguished noise Oscar made in response.

“I’ve already bitten you, I can’t do it again without-“ Lando didn’t have to finish the sentence for Oscar to understand but humans were always so nonchalant about ‘accidental turnings’ and Oscar was no exception. They were almost desperate for it.

“I need you, need to feel you Lan, please,”

“You can feel me in other ways,” Lando said, pressing himself against Oscar’s thigh. Oscar trembled beneath him, reaching to grab any part of Lando he could get his hands on. Lando rubbed his hard cock against Oscar, rutting against his leg with a deep groan.

“Fuck, Lando, come on-“ Oscar gasped, thrusting his own hips to try and get something. Lando shushed him gently before pulling back to remove their clothes- at least his vampire speed came in handy for times like these. Not that Oscar was wearing anything that left much to the imagination anyway.

[rainroses45]

Rocks Float

༄.°description: You loved the lake, Sam noticed you loved the lake - but he didn’t know why you spent so much time there (Sam Winchester x Sister Reader)

༄.°A/n: lately I haven’t been enjoying life and I remember my previous failed attempts so i was like eh let’s write that (Not edited)

༄.°song inspo: Sea Swallow Me

༄.°Warning: Suicide! Mentions of drowning, death

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Sam had always noticed the way you sat near the lake, knees tucked to your chest, eyes never quite focused on the horizon but instead fixated on the water. The air would be still except for the rippling circles that bloomed each time you tossed a rock into the depths. Bubbles would rise to the surface and soon fall with a final gasp, breaking the calm as though the lake itself was breathing beneath its dark skin. Drowning in its own skin, desperate for air yet not desperate enough to breath it.

He never said anything about it. You always came back to the motel eventually, slipping inside with damp shoes and that distant look in your eyes. Sam figured it was just your way of finding peace.

But today was different.

Sam had been watching from a distance, leaning against the Impala with Dean off somewhere arguing with their dad. Hours passed, and you never showed up at the lake. That empty patch of grass where you always sat was bare. No bug or bird ever approached it. The grass laid flat and did not dare to move. It almost seemed like if they invaded it or even changed a glimpse of this memory, you would no longer come back.

Frowning, he pushed off the car and made his way back to the rundown motel where the four of you were holed up. The thin walls and creaky floors reeked of stale smoke and disappointment, but it was home enough for hunters like them - yeah hunters like them.

Your room was empty when he opened the door. The sheets were rumpled, and your duffel bag sat untouched by the bed. Anxiety clawed at his chest, but he forced himself to breathe. You probably just needed space. You never really talked anymore. Sure there were a couple times you would smile at him but it never lasted long - you always went back to your cocoon before he could say another word. Maybe this was your time to blossom into the beautiful butterfly you are. 

Still, something gnawed at the edges of his mind, a quiet unease that wouldn’t let go. He threw himself onto the bed, the old mattress creaking beneath his weight, and closed his eyes for just a moment. A tiny moment of rest. A tiny moment of peace. A tiny moment where the flooding of his thoughts stopped, and all he could smell is you. 

The nap didn’t last long, unfortunately.

Dean’s rough hand shook Sam awake. “Hey, Sammy, c’mon. Dad picked up another murder on the radio.”

Sam blinked groggily, sitting up. “What? Now?”

“Yeah, Dad’s already in the car,” Dean said, already moving toward the door.

Sam frowned, rubbing his face. “Shouldn’t we wait for her?” he asked, glancing toward your stuff. “She might wanna come with us.”

Dean shrugged, brushing it off. “Let her have her own time, Sammy. It’s fine. She’ll meet us back here.”

Sam’s gut twisted, but he followed Dean out to the Impala, climbing into the back seat as John pulled onto the road. The engine rumbled beneath them, and Sam stared out the window, the trees blurring past. Each one turning into a green haze as his eyes lost focus on the site, and his fears began to control him like a pawn. 

The unease gnawed at him, he felt lost, he felt confusion, he felt like you. Like a bomb, he pulled out his phone gently and hit your number. The line rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Call me back, okay?” Sam said, forcing calm into his voice.

Ten minutes passed. No call.

He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. He dialed again. Voicemail. 

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, dialing once more. 

John’s gruff voice cut through the tension. “Let her be, Sam. She’s probably just clearing her head.”

Sam’s jaw clenched. “She always answers.”

“She’s a grown woman.” “She is sixteen,” Sam wanted to say, she wasn’t a collective trauma stamp for him to place wherever. 

  “She doesn’t need you checking up on her every second,” John said sharply, annoyed by the constant clicking of keypad. “We have lives at stake we don’t need to be worrying about something that doesn’t need worrying about.” He finished off his rant, leaving Sam with nothing.

Dean shot Sam a glance from the passenger seat, sensing his brother’s unease but saying nothing.

Sam stared at the phone in his hand, dread curling tighter in his chest with every unanswered call. Your voicemail repeating its self over and over in his mind like a broken record. 

By the time they pulled up to the scene near the lake - the lake, your lake.  Sam’s heart was racing. Police lights flashed red and blue against the trees, and the smell of damp earth and lake water hung thick in the air.

A cop stood near the shoreline, speaking quietly to a paramedic. Sam’s stomach knotted as they approached.

John flashed a fake badge. “What’ve we got?”

“Teen girl,” the cop said grimly. “Found floating face down. Must’ve been out there a while.”

Sam’s breath hitched. His legs felt like lead as he pushed past the officer, heart pounding in his chest.

“No,” he whispered, sprinting toward the tarp-covered body lying on the grass. “No, no, no—”

“Sam, wait!” Dean called after him, but Sam didn’t stop.

He dropped to his knees beside the tarp, his hands shaking as he pulled it back.

The world shattered around him.

It was you.

Your skin was pale, tinged with blue, your hair tangled and wet against your face. The scars on your arms, the faint freckle near your temple—every detail he knew by heart was there, lifeless and cold.

“No,” Sam choked, his voice breaking. “No, please, no.”

Dean was suddenly beside him, his face twisted with shock and grief. “Jesus Christ,” he whispered hoarsely.

Sam’s hands trembled as he touched your cold cheek, willing you to open your eyes, to breathe, to come back.

“You said to let her be,” Sam whispered, voice cracking as tears blurred his vision. “You said she was fine.” He looked up at John. The so called father, the protector of his family, destroying yet another piece of him within seconds. 

John stood frozen, guilt etched deep into his features, but Sam couldn’t look at him anymore.

Dean’s voice was raw. “Sammy… I—”

But Sam shook his head, tears streaming down his face. “I should’ve—” His breath hitched. “I should’ve waited. I should’ve gone after her.”

Dean gripped his shoulder, his own voice unsteady. “This ain’t on you, man.”

But Sam couldn’t hear him. All he could see was you—the sister who always sat by the lake, watching bubbles rise from the depths. And now you were gone, lost to the very place you always seemed to belong to.

[11queensupreme11]

Cu chulainn pissing me off, poor Percy probably feels so used and unloved, like cu only wanted her for a broodmare and then ditched her for the next pussy 🫠

I DONT CARE HOW UNHINGED HE BECOMES. HE NEEDS TO SMOTHER HER WITH LOVE RIGHT FUCKING NOW.

YOU LOVE HER BRO? CHAIN HER TO THE BED AND SHOW HER HOW MUCH YOU LOVE HER

JAHSJWHEHEIWUSBD YESSSSSSSSS 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩😩

Honestly, I think it’d break his own nonexistent heart when he finally acknowledges his wrongdoing and UNDERSTANDS that what he did was wrong and not only put his marriage in jeopardy (sorta, he’s never gonna divorce her at least) but also hurt Percy AND MADE HER THINK HE DOESNT LOVE HER ANYMORE 🥲

He’s gonna be like “she thinks…….. that I don’t love her?????? WHAT THE FUCK?! I mean, I know I rarely say it, but I literally love her so much that that I forced her to marry me so that she could never get away!!!! We literally have A HUNDRED AND ONE LOVE-CHILDREN TOGETHER. I LET HER CALL ME ‘POOKIE’ FOR FUCKS SAKE. That’s it, where are my chains?! I’ll fuck another baby into her if I have to!”

Cú chulainn’s a jerk, but he’s a jerk who does genuinely love Percy (just in ur typical tsun-yan way). He’s just archaic and was alive during a time where men having sex with other women was normal, but NOW he knows that he was wrong and that his actions hurt the love of his life so now he’s determined to not only get her back, but prove his love to her, which WOULD sound romantic if he wasn’t a homicidal unhinged yandere god.

He’s already going off the deep end, but hearing that his affair made his wife genuinely believe he doesn’t love her anymore??????? Ohhhhhhh he’s gonna go crazy with distraught, guilt, and desperation, a VERY deadly combo for a yandere 🥰🥰🥰🥰

Just take him back, Percy 🥺 he swears he’ll never hurt you again, never make you cry, never make you doubt his love for you. He’ll prove it! He doesn’t care how many bodies he has to drop, how many chains he needs to tie you down, or how many babies he needs to fill you with 💖💖💖