#and she's a FORCE and all her actions are so purposeful so to suggest that she “gave up” feels just alien to me

[backjustforberena]

I reject any and all assumptions that, at any point, Rhaenys lost the will to live. That's something I won't entertain. She didn't. That's just wrong.

[lovelytsunoda]

nation of two // oscar piastri

summary: a camping trip in perth, and a set of missing sleeping bags brings together a pair of childhood friends in a way neither of them had quite anticipated

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: lando being a little shit, wee lil' age gap (reader is a year and a half older than oscar is), general outdoorsy activities, forced teambuilding. for all intents and purposes, this is in the very beginning of lando and oscar's time as teammates and they don't know each other well yet.

authors note: I was so tempted to make this a fic for a different fandom but knew y’all would hate me if I started dropping top gun fics out of nowhere instead of the f1 goodness you’ve come to expect, and then this prompt was just so perfect for oscar and now here we are

the australian sun beat down as she trekked up the rocky hiking trail, rugged outdoor shoes digging into the dirt and mud beneath her feet. sweat soaked through the back of her concert shirt, her black bucket hat concentrating all of the sun's rays on her scalp.

"jesus, piastri! how much further?" she whined, taking oscar's outstretched hand and allowing him to pull her up the trail.

oscar laughed, looking over and grinning at how ridiculous she looked with her massive backpack and sweat stained shirt, the hot pink of her sports bra showing through the white fabric underneath the words 'duran duran'.

"don't be such a baby!"

"i'm older than you!" she shreiked, feeling the burn in her legs as she rested her weight on the younger boy. "carry me the rest of the way?"

"no! you have to get to the lookout yourself."

she groaned, rolling her eyes. "then where are lando and will? i'll sit in the damn wagon if i have to. how are you not winded?"

she hadnt planned to even be here. oscar had phoned her late the night before, asking if she would be up for a hike. she'd agreed, searching for a reason to get out of the house. it wasnt like she had anything better to do.

she'd known oscar all her life. in elementray school, they waited for the big yellow bus at the same stop, and were in the same homeroom for most of secondary school with oscar taking advanced classes for his age and y/n sinking down a level in maths, despite oscar's many absences. their mothers were in the same knitting club, and many a night teenage oscar would apologetically come to her house and collect his wine-drunk mother from the knitting circle. (despite it all, she loved nicole. how could she not, the woman was an icon)

"because i'm an athlete and you're out of shape?" oscar guessed jokingly, prodding at the cute pudge of her stomach.

the action gave her butterflies, a feeling in her stomach that wasn't welcome when thinking about the younger man she was leaning against.

they'd always been friendly. too friendly, some may say, eyebrows raising when people heard about the age gap. what did a sophisticated older woman want with oscar piastri?

it was simple: she liked stupid men with hearts of gold. and so far, nobody had compared to the 21-year-old. she was 22, so the gap wasn't even that bad.

and oscar didn't really think she was out of shape. he might joke, but that small bit of pudge on her stomach was so adorable, like a kangaroo pouch in his head, and he dreamed about the day he could cuddle up behind her and wrap his arms around it, skin to skin between cotton sheets.

"shut up." she whined, relieved that the group had finally stopped. she flung down her badly-packed and underprepared rucksack and slumped against it, pulling her hat over her eyes. it was getting cooler, though still humid, as the sun began to sink below the horizon.

"i think it's time we think about making camp." mark webber suggested, stretching out his old man limbs, tapping the giant stick he held as a walking aid against a rock. "this is as good a spot as any. lando, do you have the sleeping bags?"

"do i have the sleeping bags?" lando repeated jokingly. "what kind of muppet do you think that i am? of course will and i have the sleeping bags!"

the mclaren driver sidestepped towards the wooden wagon, dramatically ripping back the tarp on top to reveal the cardboard tent box (which had been duct taped back together so many times that it was more tape than cardboard) and the clusters of rolled up sleeping bags.

one by one, lando and will started tossing the bags at the hikers. in almost no time at all, everybody had a sleeping bag.

well, everybody except y/n.

"oi, orlando, what the fuck!" she shouted, deliberately getting his name wrong. "where's my stuff?"

not looking sorry at all, lando shrugged his shoulders, eyes hidden underneath the brim of his bucket hat. "i guess i miscounted."

"you didn't miscount shit." she glared at him, using both of her hands to flash the man her middle fingers.

lando stifled a laugh, looking over at oscar. "are you sure she's the older one?"

"lando, shove off." oscar defended before turning to her. "my sleeping bag is a double, we'll be just fine. as long as lando hasn't lost the second tent."

y/n chuckled darkly, using the rock behind her to push herself to her feet. "the tent is in my rucksack. there's no way in hell that i'm sleeping on the dirt floor."

"princess." lando coughed into his fist, hoping that neither oscar or y/n noticed.

see, lando norris had a plan. a plan that was formed out of one too many rom com nights with his girlfriend, and an impatience born from watching y/n and oscar run circles around each other like horny dogs too nervous to get to humping.

the way lando saw it, hiding the sleeping bag was just going to help that along.

"anyways, im heading out." y/n sighed, getting to her feet and brushing the leaves and twigs off her thighs. "you freaks better not follow me into the woods and watch me piss."

oscar watched her leave with a dreamy expression as she pushed branches out of the way, stumbling over tree roots and branches. he saw her loose her footing in the mud , scraping the side of her knee on the tree bark.

"you okay?" oscar shouted, ready to jump into the woods after her.

"i'm fine!"

when she came back from the woods, legs slightly scratched up from the way she stumbled, hat dangling from the chinstrap around her neck and her sweat-matted hair falling down her shoulders. oscar was setting up the tent, shirtless as he hammered the tent stakes in place. all in all, the tent was fairly well constructed considering that oscar had done it all himself.

"so, your new teammate is a jackass." she laughed. "who suggested this trip?"

"i did. against my better judgment." oscar rolled his eyes, straightening up at dusting off his hands before peeling back the zipper door to the orange tent. "welcome to my humble abode. ladies first, your highness."

"oh, shut up." she laughed, her face turning pink as she ducked into the tent.

it was a large space, backlit by the battery powered lantern from oscar's rucksack. the soft yellow lighting made their shadows dance as she sat down on the double sized sleeping bag, unsure of what to do next.

they hadn't shared a bed since they were sixteen years old on a joint family trip to fiji and they had been so drunk that they fell asleep together on a sun lounger.

it's okay. you can do this.

"can i have the right side?" she asked timidly as oscar followed her in, zipping up the door behind him.

"knock yourself out." oscar said, avoiding eye contact as he reached into his backpack and passing her a bag of cheetos.

the proximity and the rising heat in the tent was starting to make him uncomfortable. no doubt he was also thinking about the sun lounger.

"i'm glad that you came. i missed spending time with you, y/n."

she laughed, popping the bag open and cursing when she spilled orange cheese dust on her leg. "me too. i've been at a loss lately. a crossroads, if you will. this is exactly what i needed to get out of my head."

"remember what mark said? leave your problems at the bottom of the mountain!" oscar laughed. "just put one foot in front of you and keep moving.''

she grinned, popping a crispy cheeto into her mouth. "easier said than done when thinking about the future paralyzes you."

oscar moved his body along the sleeping bag so that he was sitting directly next to her, his thigh touching hers. the sleeping bag took up most of the floor space, neither of them wanting to lean back, lest they cause the whole tent to topple over.

the feeling of his skin against hers made the hair on her arms stand up, goosebumps following in its wake.

"you'll figure it out. i know you will. have some faith in yourself."

the way the led lantern highlighted every pore, every contour of his skin should have been reserved for the film crew on fifty shades of grey. he looked so breathtaking in the dark that it had just that effect: taking all of her breath away. she felt like she'd been hit in the lungs, unable to think about anything except the greek god in front of her.

and she was going to have cheeto breath when she kissed him.

outside the tent, their silhouettes danced in the half light as she leaned towards him, lips moving to whisper something inaudible but that the aussie seemed to understand instantly, wrapping his hands around her waist to pull her closer.

and when oscar kissed her? she forgot all her worries, this airy feeling spreading throughout her body. the skin around their lips would be stained from the cheetos, as would the sleeping bag where the bag toppled over, but neither of them could find it in them to care, too lost in the others touch as oscar's calloused fingers ran up her t-shirt, gently squeezing the part of her stomach that made her the most self-conscious,

"you're beautiful. and smart. and brilliant. and i'm sorry that nobody has ever told you that." he whispered in his kiss, his tongue licking into her mouth. he growled at the taste of cheetos, something that was suddenly so much sexier than he had ever believed it could be.

"shut up." she blushed, kissing him again.

outside the tent, lando and will sat by a crackling fire, watching the embers rise in the air and wondering if the pair knew that the lantern allowed them to see everything through the tent walls.

"i knew he had it in him." lando laughed. "look at the little guy go."

"should we tell him about the lantern?" will chuckled, popping a marshmallow into his mouth.

"nah. they'll figure it out in a minute when we all start wolf whistling."

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @twinkodium @thatsdemko @userlando @libraryofloveletters @diorleclerc @lorarri

[yeahihyperfixtate]

♡ — luke and kieran x assassin!reader

content : fluff, suggestive (like you have to squint), nonmc!reader, reader contexted to have killed ppl, idk luke and kieran being adorable, more or less the twins x reader

authors note : i havent written stuff in a year hope we're somewhat back in the game. idk I love luke and kieran and this idea has been buzzing about since I met them in game, and ik it says assassin but assistant felt too icky to call reader so yeah, enjoy pls <3

♡ — assassin!reader who, in her vulnerable youth, was taken under the wing of onychinus's mysterious leader, revealing a hidden purpose and destiny within her.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly fell in line when an opportunity arose, casting aside her former recklessness as a besieged street rat, employing such developed cunning senses to eliminate anyone who dared interfere with the hailed leader of onychinus.

♡ — assassin!reader who was treated no differently than the others, used as a strategic asset in those dull meetings the sylus ordered her to attend, some remarking on the irony that no one in that overly cologned room took a woman seriously, even if she stood beside onychinus's revered leader.

♡ — assassin!readerwho only sighed at the memory of the last meeting as her boss spoke humorously. those who dared to push their limits with him, feeling a boost of superiority against one man in his lonesome and some unseen woman, lay with their throats slit as she returned to stand beside her seated superior, her actions displayed as a brief warning to those who tried to think the same.

♡ — assassin!reader who had to refrain her walls of stoicism from falling when she was handed her very own crow mask, briefed that she would be under his direct commands, no other.

♡ — assassin!reader who after a few months of securing a spot directly under sylus’s hand, was introduced to her previously unknown, equally skilled comrades, luke and kieran—the infamous twins of onychinus—immediately affirming such with her new uniform, smaller but just as tactile copy of theirs.

♡ — assassin!reader who quickly learned the personalities she was forced to interact and work with daily, distinguishing between the vigorous, unpredictable nature of the older brother, Luke, and the calmer, more soothing demeanour of Kieran.

♡ — assassin!reader who while navigating these complex dynamics, found herself constantly adjusting herself, carefully tailoring her walls to stay upright as she interacted with the pair careful to not stitch herself into their lives, wanting no more than to rely only on herself, all while maintaining her unwavering loyalty to sylus.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds it increasingly hard to hold up these walls as she works with the pair, finding herself alongside the two during their free time, relaxing in one of sylus’s penthouses, awaiting his next command to fill the boredom that overshadows the three.

♡ — assassin!reader who isn’t respected by a selection of lower-ranked members due to her status of being a highly-ranked woman in onychinus, her name slandered continuously among the workplace.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself watching the twins with a mix of admiration and surprise as the two yank a man out of his chair, their aura cold and menacing. their victim, refusing to acknowledge her high rank, accompanied by a moment of foolishness calling her a bitch during a meeting the three were conducting. all triggered by her blunt criticism of his team’s failure to deliver the required number of protocores on time, fuelling the brothers' anger, actively threatening his life with a gun to his head unless he supplied an apology on his knees within the next five seconds.

♡ — assassin!reader who gradually comes to the profound realization of the deep significance the twins hold in her life, a startling epiphany triggered by a harrowing near-death experience on what should have been an ordinary mission gone south.

♡ — assassin!reader who often perches on a high-rise rooftop after successful missions, gazing over the mist-shrouded N109 zone. only recently finding herself joined by the twins, a result of their collaboration over the past few weeks.

♡ — assassin!reader who suddenly finds herself looking for the pair during her scarce free time, looking for the mix of comforting personalities to fill her boredom.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds herself swept up in their mischievous antics, reluctantly pressed against a wall corner alongside them, watching as an unsuspecting newcomer to onychinus gets a face full of pie upon opening the shared base fridge.

♡ — assassin!reader who finds her cheeks reddening as her two companions casually speculate about her appearance, pulling guesses on the colour and texture of her hair, her supposed eye colour and its shape, all while she attempts to avoid their curious eyes on her.

♡ — assassin!reader who silently prayed to whatever deity was watching, begging for an open grave to swallow her whole as luke reached out to hold her, thankfully, masked face, forcing it still in an attempt to peer past the red slits that lay over her eyes.

♡ — assassin!reader horrifyingly wishes she could jump off this very rooftop they resided on as kirean casually chimes into the conversation some more, audibly wondering about her form in outfits that weren't the current uniforms displayed. he shrugs it off, only adding fuel to the fire as he stretches on how he knows that 'you’re a beauty either way behind that mask', luke places the foreseen cherry on top as he agrees with his younger brother so casually, finally letting go of her burning face.

♡ — assassin!reader can only stare at the back of their heads as they both turn away from her, looking down at the streets below as if this was the most normal thing in the world

[devnmon]

by the lantern light.

Summary: Pining for your bounty partner is manageable most times, but it becomes extremely difficult when the hotel screws up your room choice and you're forced to share a bed.

warnings: smut, fingering, some oral (r!receiving), a cutesy love confession too & a tiny bit of angst

wc: 4.4k

Another long day of riding from West Elizabeth to Annesburg and back had come to pass. An Era of outlaws and gunslingers had come to a close, while Sadie Adler found herself a successfully skilled bounty hunter.

Everything ached; your legs, your back, your heart for the woman you called the other half of your bounty hunting duo.

Sadie Adler continued to be the one constant in a world that showed you anything similar to it. A sickening love for her had grown with it, overtaking you to no end.

In turn, the day was finished with more than enough pay to last you both a while. To treat yourselves, Sadie suggested a night of hearty meals and the nicest rooms in the local town.

Add a bath to your expenses for the sole purpose of relaxation and hot water, your night was simply made.

Your boots were giving you countless blisters, and your thighs ached just standing upright.

Remind me never to suggest this many jobs in one day again...

Her low chuckle at the words you murmured while entering the hotel was almost enough to let her have a chance at the bath before you. But she took one look at you and basically ordered you to get in immediately.

Something about how she bossed you around, enjoying the way it made you feel wanted—no, needed, by her.

In her defense, you looked like shit.

For the meantime, you were to clean yourself while she ran a couple errands in town after booking the room. Most times, you had to pay extra for a specific room with two beds, lest society began to wonder if you were sharing the same bed.

Each muscle ached a bit more trudging up the hotel's steps, spurs clinking with each slow movement.

Shoving the bath's door closed was your next action, followed by peeling each and every item of clothing off of you for the time being.

While the tub filled, your mind floated back to the way Sadie had praised you earlier that day. Her drawl made your knees weak without fail, the thickest you've ever heard but no one else's you would listen to every day.

There you go, you got it... Nice job, honey.

Sunflower colored strands of her hair always remained neatly pulled back in that familiar loose braid of hers, wondering what you lengths you would go to for just a chance at running your fingers through it.

Your palms sweat around her just thinking about it. Other times about how you might look in one of her shirts, aroma of orchids and vanilla intertwined in the fabric.

With the first dip of your body into the steaming water, the outside world ceased to exist in that moment. Goosebumps flooded your skin and pricked up those little hairs along your body.

Upon the lack of sleep you'd received the night before, the warm water had you ready to nod off and rest your eyes. All you wanted to do was stay submerged in the clean water and dream of a certain blonde woman.

Your whole body ached for her; the warmth in her presence, the way she called your name, joked around with you, put every part of her trust in you on jobs. Your heart had held a special place for her ever since the day you two met.

Dreams of yours mainly consisted of her figure, putting you in not-so-safe-for-work positions that arose many confusing feelings in you.

Once the word love crossed your mind regarding her, there was no other way for you to see her. But in that golden light right before dusk and how she smiled when you genuinely made her laugh.

If there was a future for you out there, Sadie was painted in along with all the images you envisioned.

No matter how much being in her presence sparked a flame inside you, there wasn't enough evidence in the world to speak how you felt.

Just the deep thrum of heat flowing from the true center of your body, suffocating you in desire. Your skin under the water managed to be more sensitive, reminding you of the gentle but calloused hands of your partner.

Ease in her touches that had patched you up multiple times had been ingrained into your memory.

Ignoring the heat between your legs to clean your body, you tightened your thighs together in attempt to suppress it.

Sooner than later, a knock at the door pulled you from your daydream and alerted you of how cool the bath water had become. That familiar feminine drawl called out from the other side.

"Y'done in there yet? Our room's 'bout ready an' my feet're killin' me."

Shit.

Having to face the woman you were just daydreaming about— there were more things you'd rather do. She won't notice the blush on your cheeks because the room was hot from the steam. Right?

"Oh- yeah! Just gimme a minute."

Clothes returned to your back, clutching your gun belt and satchel in hand while your boots clicked on the floor once again. Upon opening the door, Sadie stood against the nearby wall, sighing when she noted your refreshed state.

"Well don't you look purdy." She smirked, dragging her eyes up and down your figure, impressed you actually listened to her.

Her comment was met with a roll of your eyes, walking past her and further down the hallway. Because of course you listened to her, you would walk into hell itself if it was what she wanted.

"Hey, it's room 2A, should be unlocked already." she called out to you, giving her a thumbs up wordlessly without turning back to face her.

Your eyes coasted along the wooden walls, finding the door unlocked like Sadie had said.

What she wasn't aware of was the lack of two beds and presence of one. Only one bed possessed this godforsaken room, and somehow that was seeming to be the last straw for you today.

There had to be some mistake, you were sure the hotel's clerk took bribes for preferred rooms. It had worked in the past, why was now the time for that to get thrown out the window?

You couldn't sleep in the same bed as her. You were sure you wouldn’t survive.

You always knew she wouldn't see you as anything more than her best friend and bounty partner. Which should've been enough. It should've been enough to satisfy you in this life. Lucky enough to even be graced with her presence on a day to day basis.

Not many men in this world could say this woman would even look twice in their direction.

But the sickening feeling when she pulled you close in the cold or when she gave you the last of her food. Those moments were when you wanted to break the silence and pull her lips to yours.

Organizing your things around the room was how you passed the time before Sadie eventually came knocking at the door.

One creak of the door opening was enough for her to realize exactly how she'd fucked up.

"What the hell? I could've sworn I paid that jackass at the front desk enough to get us the exact room I specifically requested! I should kick his ass—"

As much as you'd pay to see her cuss out the clerk at the front desk, the two of you couldn't handle all the attention it would bring. When Sadie doesn't get what she asked for, it was never long before hands were thrown.

"No—" you sighed, "we can't afford gettin' kicked out, Sadie. My back cannot take another night on the ground."

"Well, yer right," she drawled, "You ain't gon' make it five feet out them doors before needin' a lie down. Plus, we're both beat."

She took a quick look around the room, then placed her things down on the opposite wall.

"I think we can tough it just one night. Whatchu think?"

Truth be told, you were much too drained to argue or find another reason to protest the situation any longer.

When your figure hit the mattress, feet free of the cowboy boot leather, the comfort of soft sheets was enough to lull you off into a deep sleep.

Though your subconscious dug deep into the layers of your mind, unearthing the most filthy words in Sadie's beckoning voice.

You have no idea how much I want you right now... as her hands pin your wrists to a wall.

God, you look amazing like this, while you're perched kneeling between her thighs.

You're a needy girl, aren't you? Tell me what you want... the minute she gets you undressed.

Her closeness has you sweating and your body is on fire. She reaches for your waist, hands eager and steady; that is, before the vision fades and your eyes jolt open to the low lit room.

Gasping slightly, you're frozen in place upon waking from sleep. Stuck sleeping in a bed with the woman that embodied your dreams just a moment ago.

Quiet breaths filled the room, another reminder you were in such a situation that there was nothing you could do. About these overwhelming sensations, the feelings you bared, an urge to take care of how turned on those dreams had made you.

This situation was beyond impossible to weasel your way out of. Sleeping on the ground was terrible, but at least you could sneak away silently; any slight move or sound could wake her on this mattress.

Though you attempted to drift back off into sleep, your overactive thoughts of Sadie intensified.

How long would it take to kiss every inch of her body?

Which spots would be more sensitive to your touch?

Your eyes shot open again, void of any fatigue you felt a couple hours earlier. Only thing inhabiting you now was the heat radiating from under the covers. Sadie's body heat next to you on the bed contributed to the raised temperature, but you could tell that wasn't the only heat you felt.

Not only were you drenched in sweat, but the overwhelming heat painting your body radiated from between your legs. Aching something awful the second you squeezed your thighs together.

Having to share a bed with her was anxiety inducing enough— add the effect of seeing her laid out for you perfectly behind your eyelids, and you felt helpless to do anything.

Attempting to fall back asleep was out of the question as well, seeing as those thoughts of her positioned so nicely for you lingered distastefully. It just had to be the night you couldn't keep your mind off her that she lay the closest she's ever been to you.

The more you attempted to avoid what was keeping you awake, the more your cunt throbbed and begged to be touched.

At this point you'd become desperate, wanting to be relaxed so bad that the idea was more appealing now than it was five minutes ago.

Anything for you to rest again.

Very delicately, one of your hands moved to slide down the front of your underwear. You were betting on the fact that Sadie was exhausted that night and wouldn't be woken by the slightest movements.

Just as your fingers snuck past the waistband, the woman beside you shuffled slightly. Your movements halted until you were sure she didn't wake easier than you thought. Upon the lack of evidence afterwards, you decided to continue and reach down between your legs.

It was almost surprising how soaked you were upon running your finger over your cunt, holding back a whimper when just the pad ran over your clit. You were clenching around nothing just from it, tempted to go further but knowing someone could hear you.

God— fuck it, right?

Damn Sadie Adler with her hickory colored eyes and sweet southern drawl, with those nimble hands and steady thighs and proportions that could make a grown woman cry—

Pushing two fingers between your folds tests you more than anything in the moment, with filthy sounds threatening to break loose.

Why oh why couldn't you two just have gotten separate rooms like you wanted? What possessed her to make you share a room with her all the time?

A pad of your finger swiped up to your clit, circling ever so slowly and with feather light touches.

What would she think if she caught me? Would she punish me? Or make me worship her to no end?

Either way, you were fucked in the head for thinking any of it.

That cunt of yours throbbed to no end, worsening by the second you begun touching yourself again. Light circles turned to adding more pressure and steadying your breath with each pass of your fingers.

Your body ached for her touch, picturing the image of her above you with those hands of hers outreached for you. It was erotic enough to make you whimper in the silent dark of the hotel room.

"Fuck..." you muttered under your breath.

Wet sounds began to fill the room once your fingers pushed inside your entrance.

Now you were really moving slow, pressing both digits inside just to curl them at the perfect spot that sent your thighs tightening again.

Her sweet saccharine southern drawl was the closest thing to euphoria you'd imagined. Putting the words in your mind to her voice- you were exploding on the inside from imagining it.

To sit at the mountain peak of her thighs and give her everything you had... to have her call out your name out of any others in the world. It was enough to make you—

Oh, Sadie...

Too focused on keeping her image clear in your head, you’d missed the additional shuffling next to you. Eyes squeezed so tight, your blood pumping in your ears was all you could hear.

Any time she filled your mind, the images were always of her splayed out any way your brain could fathom...

One of her completely naked on a couch, another where she's towering over your body, thrusting her hips against yours; one more of her face shoved between your thighs while your fingers ran through her blonde strands, her tongue slowly inching through--

"Havin' trouble over there?"

A raspy voice called out through the dark, belonging to none other than the woman you were fantasizing about to no end.

In a fraction of a second, you were frozen in place... as if you would be any less caught than you were in that moment. Your hand shot out from between your legs faster than light on impulse.

As if doing cartwheels, your stomach dropped over and over again, while you were in the midst of surveying what to do.

Take it on the chin? Face her? Tell her everything you'd been thinking about? Absolutely all of it? None of it?

Before you could even get a chance to realize how fucked you were, she'd switched on her lantern light and sat up on the bed.

"If you needed some stress relief, all you had to do was ask'." Her low drawl rings out in the warm light, blonde hair covering her back as you peek over at her.

Sitting up nervously, you turned to face her, eyes overwhelmed with regret and uncertainty. Guilt had overridden you on another level, not knowing how she'd react to— wait, did she just say...?

"When they told me I could change our room, I decided against it... to see what would happen. To see if my suspicions were right all along."

"You did this...? Why--" you started, meeting her brown eyes for the first time all night.

"Cause I... could tell how you felt. For a while now. Just... didn't know how I felt. Took me some time to. But now I do." she drawled, a look of understanding meeting yours.

"And now?"

Surprisingly, the heat level in your cheeks settled some when she scooched closer to you on the mattress.

"Just... let me try somethin'."

Not only does one of her hands land on top of yours, but cups your cheek with the other and began to lean in to you.

Every atom in your body screamed out for her, similar to the way a firework sparked a bit before its shot into the sky.

Once her lips finally pressed to yours, every moment you shared together flashed through your head. Almost like a vision aligning, where you could see every day she kept you around wasn't just for convenience. Each time she had your back in life, through fights and drunken nights, was because she cared only for you.

Instantly you forgot how to breathe, only wanting to savor the burn of her pillow-esque lips against yours for the rest of eternity.

But when she pulled away, the breath you were holding became overwhelming and caused you to gasp for air.

"Sadie... I-"

"No, I know. I know, honey. But it's the middle of the night, we can't afford to lose any more sleep talkin' about this. We already ain't had enough of that." she chuckled, intertwining her fingers with yours.

"Kiss me again, please..."

Of course she would indulged you over and over, spending minutes frozen in time and trapped in the loving embrace her lips were giving yours. Somehow it was even more perfect than in your dreams.

Wordlessly, she laid you down on the bed, your hair scattering across the pillow while you continued to share the most perfect sounds she'd ever heard. Heartbeat quickening, sighs and small moans of pleasure escaping the both of you until she pulls away for a moment.

"Y'were thinkin' about me, weren't you?" One of her fingers swiped at the excess saliva on her lip from your overeager state.

Reminded of how exactly you'd gotten yourself in this situation, you nodded in confirmation and felt your cheeks pink up.

"You're the only person I would, Sade."

One of the corners of her mouth points upwards, painting a smirk on her face.

"Now what are we gon' do about that, hm?"

"Whatever you want."

Your response tumbles out a split second after her question hits the air, the apples of her cheeks brightening with a bit of a blush.

Instantly, her lips are on yours again as she's pushing you down onto the pillow's soft cover. Sadie's loose strands of hair tickle the sides of your face slightly, but the contact isn't unwelcome.

With her in an image you'd been daydreaming of for god knows how long, you thought this moment might actually be the paradise in her you were searching for.

Another gasp leaves you as her lips separate from yours to leave a trail down your jawline to your neck. Her hands resting on the mattress at your sides were gripping the comforter.

"Can I... touch you here?" Her fingers ghost over your waist, the lightest touches hovering over your skin.

"Yes... god, yes. Please touch me. All over, Sade."

Your voice is barely a whisper, plainly begging for her to run those hands down your body until she was satisfied.

Only after you'd given her the go ahead does she connect her hand to your waist, slipping her fingers under your sleep shirt ever so slightly. That overbearing heat still lingered, only burning hotter with her hands on you.

You can feel her mouth sucking a mark into your collarbone, swallowing your whimpers before she releases with a popping sound.

"Now then, let's make sure you sleep t'night. I ain't doin' this all night with your damn tossin' and turnin'."

You scoffed, because how could you be so careless? Sadie was one to know when gunfire was about to break out-- of course she knew you weren't really sleeping.

Her hands delicately lift your shirt up, fingertips painting goosebumps along your skin. When your chest came into view, you caught her licking her lips before bending down to place a kiss between the valley of your breasts.

"You're prettier than a flower in bloom. Know that?" Her lips ghost up your chest and collarbones with feather light kisses.

"Stop sweet talkin' me..." you replied breathlessly.

Without warning, she takes one of your hardened nipples into her mouth, circling her tongue around it before nipping ever so lightly.

"Shit-- don't tease me... it's been long enough," you whined, pulling a chuckle from her.

"Alright, alright." Her other hand grasped your other breast, playing with your nipple between two of her fingers.

You inhaled sharply when her other hand slipped right past the band of your bottoms and down between your legs, slapping your palm over your mouth in surprise.

"Shh, shh... gotta be quiet for me, m'kay?"

Nodding in reply, she licked her lips and pulled down your bottoms.

"Ah, there she is... my sweet girl." Her drawl had your head spinning, not even realizing her hand was traveling further down your body to push your legs open for her.

"Sadie..." you whispered, perplexed by the entire situation. You pinched your arm to make sure this wasn't a dream while you sensed her palms cupping the soft plush of your thighs.

Sadie's fingers stroke over your heat, unbeknownst to her how badly it burned and pleaded for her touch. As if she could read your mind, two of her fingers opened you up for her, vulnerability washing over you in that moment.

"Y'don't even know how whipped you got me, honey. I'd have walked into hell itself if you were the one askin'..."

God... you were lovesick.

You whimper behind your palm, practically vibrating with how much you were riled up beforehand.

Once her fingers sliver through how soaked you were, the pad of her middle finger traces circles on your most sensitive part. Sadie's eyes catch your flustered state as she continues the slow movements, moving down to your entrance while collecting your slick.

It's cruel how she barely touches your entrance before removing her fingers to taste you for herself. Your hazy eyes catch her licking your arousal off her digits before reaching down to touch you again.

"Sweetest thing I ever did taste, baby."

Please... you whisper, gripping the bed sheets tighter than you can imagine. Sadie only chuckles, before two of her fingers prod at her entrance, pushing in slowly at first. When she realizes you welcome her in with no resistance, she bites her lip and smirks.

Though your overwhelming arousal allowed for her fingers to slip in easily, it felt as if it was your first time. Thin and nimble, they were even more fulfilling than your own. It made a world of a difference not having to pleasure yourself for the first time in ages.

Men tried their best, but you knew Sadie Adler's skills would outperform all of their past attempts.

As if a reflex, your walls clench around her fingers, covering them in your arousal again, and she smiles. Her dirty blonde strands tickle your thighs as she presses a kiss to one of them, feeling you throb while pushing them back inside.

Her unused hand parts your folds for her and her thumb gently rubs your little bundle of nerves, taking pride and joy in being the one to do so.

She adores the way your eyebrows scrunch together while you attempt to remain quiet, the way your breasts sit prettily on your chest and the way your body reacts when she angles her fingers just right.

"Y're so... lucky I'm too tired to scream your name right now..." you pant, taking each tantalizing drag of her fingers with pride. Her fingers curl inside you upon hearing your words, watching you swallow another sound she feels envious to not hear in the moment.

"Sounds like heaven. Maybe when we got a little place of our own someday." Sadie leans down to press a kiss onto your heat, catching more of your slick on her lips and humming with content.

"Shut up... oh-!" You bite your hand to combat the filthy sound you want to emit, just so she can hear how intoxicated by her you've become.

"There ya go, takin' me so well..." the movements of her fingers set a steady pace inside you, observing you breathe heavily above her.

Her tongue against your heat was the closest thing to euphoria you could imagine, saturated in her lust and devotion like a god. In a split second, she hums against you and you can feel the wave of pleasure begin to build like no other type of adrenaline.

"I'm close, Sade... don't stop..." you spoke breathlessly, your entire being feeling connected to hers in that moment. Your toes curled, fingers grasped the cotton sheets until your knuckles turned white.

"Let go for me, sweetheart. Just let it all out, there ya go..." she beckoned, pressing her tongue to your clit as her fingers continued to pump inside you.

The quiet of the room was now filled with your heavy breathing, as though the entire world paused its turning for a moment, high coursing through your body.

Some of the slightest moans you'd been withholding for the sake of people in the hotel slipped past your lips like music to Sadie's ears.

As your high washed over you, she could feel you clenching rhythmically around her fingers and chuckled to herself before pulling away and crawling back up your body.

Her lips trailed kisses up your stomach and neck while your breathing steadied, the contact with your skin warm from your overwhelming orgasm.

"You're so pretty..." she breathed, "when you come for me."

Sadie kissed your cheek and dragged her hands up your body, goosebumps in your afterglow spreading like wildfire. Your hands loosened their grip on the bed sheets and wrapped around Sadie's neck loosely, welcoming each kiss she placed upon your face.

"Feel better now?" she mumbled against your ear, cupping the side of your face with her palm.

"Mhm... thank you, Sade. Feel s'much better now, love you... so much."

The lack of sleep had you delusional, barely registering anything you admitted to her now that you'd finally gotten the one thing you wanted.

"Love you too, honey. More'n you know."

Sadie lay beside you, her arms wrapped around your body to pull you in close while the both of you finally let your mutual tiredness drift you off to sleep.

[nickel156]

New theory incoming:

What if Rhysand is actually Valg? Okay, not a new new theory, but I come with new receipts!!

Bear with me, because once you start connecting the dots, it starts to look real suspicious. Let’s talk about how the Inner Circle seems to mirror the Cadre in Throne of Glass—because let’s be real, they’re all miserable.

Look at how Rhysand doles out responsibilities: Azriel, the shadowsinger with a traumatic past, is tasked with torturing people as a spymaster. And guess what? He hates it. It’s literally the last thing he wants to do. Then we have Cassian, who’s put in charge of keeping the Illyrians in line—an entire group of people who don’t respect him, who he’s constantly battling, and a job that leaves him emotionally drained. And then there’s Mor, who’s forced to keep the Hewn City in check—the place that brings her so much pain and trauma, the place she despises. And let’s not forget that Rhysand gave her the “opportunity” to kill her parents, knowing full well that Mor would never be able to go through with it, leaving her trapped in this endless cycle of pretending and unresolved pain.

And let’s not forget about Amren. Rhysand touts her as this second-in-command powerhouse who has all this freedom, yet he binds her to Velaris and to his Inner Circle. She’s trapped in a body she hates, pretending to be something she’s not. Remember, Amren is ancient, powerful, and she longs for a sense of freedom and the ability to return to her true form. But what does Rhysand do? He ties her to Velaris, makes her part of his court, and essentially uses her powers as a failsafe whenever things get dire. And when Amren finally has the chance to become her true self again, to escape, she’s roped back in. It’s almost like he needs to keep her close, keep her feeling indebted to him, so she never truly finds her own way out. Another parallel to the Cadre, who were always indebted and beholden to Maeve.

So why would Rhysand, who supposedly loves his family, give them jobs that do nothing but torment them? It feels a lot like the Valg in Throne of Glass and how the Cadre was bound to Maeve—stuck in miserable positions, tied to a leader who claimed to be doing everything for the “greater good” but really just kept them all under control. It’s almost like Rhysand is purposely keeping his Inner Circle in roles they despise to maintain a sense of power over them. He creates this narrative of being the savior and protector, while they’re the “necessary” pawns who have to suffer for the “greater good.”

It’s a consistent theme: Rhysand presents himself as the caring, understanding leader, but his actions suggest he has no problem keeping his closest friends in tormenting roles for the sake of his control over the Night Court. They’re constantly doing things they hate, locked into positions that make them miserable, all while Rhysand stands above it all with this narrative of being the “most powerful High Lord” with the “perfect court.”

Sounds a lot like how Maeve ruled over her Cadre, doesn’t it? And if you squint, you start seeing the parallels between how the Valg control their pawns and how Rhysand manipulates his Inner Circle. Just a theory, but the more you think about it, the more the pieces start to fall into place…

[stardustdiiving]

The way some people talk about “misogynistic writing” with the female genshin archons—specifically Nahida & Furina— kills me a bit, because while i do feel there’s valid criticisms of genshin’s writing to be made (especially regarding Ei, who I do feel was done a massive disservice writing wise), often I see people seem to come from a place of not understanding the writing/characters well, and/or leaning into like…very reductive ideas of what makes a female character “good” that honestly says more about their biases than Genshin’s

For example, a common complaint I see against Nahida & Furina is about them being made to be “weak/unserious” and how this is bad writing because genshin is unwilling to take their characters seriously—but the way this is argued seems to suggest Furina & Nahida would be better characters if they were more physically powerful, mature, or “cooler” in some way. But I really dislike the notion of girlbossification being seen as the one standard of good writing for women. A girl being strong and independent and able to punch things really hard isn’t a marker of inherent good writing

Nahida and Furina not being physically powerful or completely sure of themselves is the point. Their lack of life-experience-based maturity and overpowering physical strength are intentional and points of strength for their character writing, not flaws or weaknesses:

Nahida is the God of Wisdom—her primary source of strength is her intelligence, which comes from her curiosity about the world that is intrinsically linked to her being very caring by nature. The reason Nahida is at a disadvantage in physical strength with the antagonists—Scaramouche and Dottore—and doesn’t have an epic moment where she brute force overpowers them, isn’t because Genshin is treating Nahida like an incompetent joke, it’s because her character highlights the overall theme in Sumeru’s AQ that power isn’t everything and strength/wisdom comes from many places.

She outsmarts both Scaramouche and Dottore through her ability to strategize—if you’re trying to sell Nahida as a character who embodies wisdom, it’s far stronger writing wise to have her use her wisdom and mind to overcome narrative conflict than have her be all powerful. If you don’t think Nahida revealing she’s trapped Scaramouche in a dream loop after he tries to rip her gnosis from her, or her standing her ground against Dottore and forcing him to bargain with her when he attempts to intimidate her into giving him what he wants doesn’t make her “cool” or interesting….idk ! Maybe it’s not the writing and just your personal preference for character appeal

Furina —without getting too deep into 4.2 spoilers—has an arc revolving around the loneliness & conflict of needing to mold yourself into a performance for a greater purpose, and grappling with personal identity and autonomy in the aftermath of performance and repression shaping your life. I really don’t understand how people watch how she’s handled and come away with the conclusion her character gets bent around Nuevillette’s man pain/the fact he’s just so ~much more competent than her unless you’re just really not interested in trying to engage Furina’s writing or taking it in confusingly bad faith

Her struggling with lacking the physical power/competence a god “should” have is, again, the point of her character and they are very clear where that lack of ability comes from within the writing. Her narrative actions follow an arc that revolves around this internal conflict she has—she feels very established to be her own person and they certainty don’t shy away from expanding on Furina’s emotions without it only being done as footing for other (male) characters

I think Nahida & Furina were just not what people were expecting the Dendro & Hydro Archon to be like, I also see a lot of complaints that neither of them “act like gods” or “seem very godlike” but see, in my opinion, one of the central themes to genshin overall is to examine the relationship between humanity and the divine. Part of this also includes calling into question what a god should be, especially in relation to humans/having a sense of humanity

The center conflict within Nahida & Furina’s characters is that their sense of humanity is at odds with being held to what being a god “should” be. Nahida is imprisoned by the Sages who treat her with disdain for being a child and not being inhumanly perfect enough to be useful to them as a deity. We see Furina try to engage with her people earnestly in a more human way before realizing she needs to put up the performance that proceeds to shape her life & state of deep loneliness for the next 500 years to be taken seriously and fulfill her duties. You aren’t supposed to look at Nahida or Furina and think they’re all powerful otherworldly divine beings. You’re supposed to view the, as people—people who are young and inexperienced regarding their position in life. Venti and Zhongli act like people in the same way—the only difference is they have more experience and have had the time to accomplish more feats as original members as the Seven

Again, it’s not that I don’t think there’s criticisms to be made. Genshin to me sets up Ei to be a character who requires a lot of self reflection/growth and thought with handling her moral dubiousness, and then out of desperately worrying she won’t be likable enough, seems to bend over with trying to insist on Ei being palpably appealing while not following through on a lot of what her character really needs to feel well handled. (I feel they barely even address Ei needing to rebuild trust with her people and it’s only more clear when you now see Furina spend a lot of time handling something similar despite doing less um, government oppression thsn Ei did for instance HDJNDJDJ. But I guess me pinning where my personal dissatisfaction with her writing comes from is another post in of its own and more based in general issues with Inazuma vs viewing it as misogynistic writing alone) The trend of not letting a female character grapple with her morality and try to push her being livable at the expense of addressing her complexity does honestly feel it falls into a misogynistic writing trends. I am really bummed out with Ei’s execution when genshin has proven through other characters along with Nahida and Furina they are capable of handling a character like her writing wise imo

But I really think, again, if someone thinks none of genshin’s women are engaging or interesting, or that Nahida and Furina aren’t taken seriously enough narratively while seeming to not really understand the intent of the characters’ writing, or want to take them seriously unless they’re cool/girlboss-y enough, I feel it may say more about their ideas of handling women in fiction than it does about genshin. I get personal preferences and not being really into a character, but people so frequently frame it as a possibly misogyny pattern with how genshin writes the female archons and I can’t help but disagree. I think sometimes people don’t consider what the story is trying to say with the characters vs what they think is cool or want (and of course what we all think is cool or may want/expect narratively is always informed by our own biases). There’s a level of subjectivity in how you can interpret writing and narratives of course but they’re just not interpretations I feel fit into what’s presented in the text !

[pedgito]

Smut request for Eddie, but I’m worried you might think it’s too close to your single!dad series! But I’m just gonna give it to you anyway because you’re my favorite smut writer. Dad!eddie and babysitter!reader? (Obviously 18+)

author’s note: it’s not at all!! i really wanted to try out something a little different so hopefully this isn’t terrible lol. i hope you enjoy!

cw: 18+ (minors dni), large age gap (21 & 36), dad!eddie, power dynamic (but it’s still pretty balanced, just given the content), virgin!reader, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, all the sex stuff—don’t come into my inbox with bs, if you don’t like, don’t read. but if you do, ily.

word count: 5.6k

Eddie liked to think that with being older came more wiser thoughts, actions—but through experience, he was still fumbling his way through life the same way he had back when in his early twenties, fresh out of high school and making the decent money that he could between shifts at the plant with Wayne, who had to nearly bribe his boss to give him the job, and the small shows he kept up with Corroded Coffin—not that it ever brought in a lot of money.

But, it did bring him to the life he had now; nearing his late thirties, fresh divorcee and a spirited young daughter to prove it. He couldn’t even believe it himself half the time—marriage was never something he planned out, or kids, or searching for babysitters instead of opting to force his child into daycare—spending hours looking through possible prospects, vetting them thoroughly. It felt like he was living a dream most of the time, until reality plopped down on his lap with a giant grin on her face, stray curls cascading down her forehead.

“Do you have to go, daddy?” His daughter asks, “Can’t you play another night?”

Any shows he did now were more for his own enjoyment—monthly shows at a small bar at the edge of town. They gathered a decent crowd and lended to Eddie meeting some very friendly ladies, not that he cared that much.

He had his eyes elsewhere and it was a damn shame nothing would come of it—as horrible as he felt about.

“Sorry, sweetie—I made a promise.” He explains to her, trying his best to lay it out in her terms, “You know I can’t break promises.”

You step through the door only a few moments after, overnight bag snug over your shoulder as you squealed gleefully at his daughter—her previous qualms about Eddie leaving disappearing in an instant.

“You could stay home and play board games with us!” She suggests excitedly, pulling at your hand. You smile knowingly at Eddie, it was typical behavior that didn’t surprise either of you.

“Yeah, Mr. Munson—she’s a pro at connect four, believe me.”

You say his name the way he hates, the way you know he hates. He’s told you time and time again—Eddie. It’s Eddie.

It felt like you were doing it on purpose most of the time.

And so what if you were?

“Oh, I do.” He smiles smugly, crinkling his nose toward the young girl as he fetches his keys from the letting. “Her mom said she might come tonight—maybe in the morning. I can never really predict her, but you’re fine with staying the night just in case, right?”

“I did bring my bag for a reason.” You retort with a playful tease to your tone, swinging the back around as you drop it on the empty loveseat. “You know I don’t have a problem with it.”

“I just—there’s no telling how tonight is going to go.” Eddie admits.

There was no telling how drunk he was going to get—that’s what he means to say. Your eyebrow quirks up in interest and Eddie only shakes his head. There was never any judgment—his life was his life. But, being so young and naive still, it made you wonder how life could really be as you grew older. Eddie seemed to be happy; great friends, nice house, a small but close knit family, he had it all.

Eddie felt the monotony set in the moment he tied himself down to his ex-wife, but being newly single—it had sparked something inside him that wouldn’t die out. Maybe it was an early midlife crisis, a lapse of judgment, but it made him want the things he knew he couldn’t have.

The clues weren’t there initially either. Eddie was as respectful and stern as you expected when you first met, scrutinizing and over-examining every part of your life—you were the secondary protector of his daughter outside of him, it only seemed fair.

But, things took a slow turn as you started to come around more—dinners were occasional, cigarettes out on the porch before you drove home, small talks about what you had to deal with while he was away that soon turned into Eddie being more open with his personal life, and in turn, yours.

There wasn’t a part of his life that was much of a secret anymore—you knew the dirtiest details, the saddest ones. He confided in you a little too easily, but you were just as much at fault for letting it happen.

The first night things shift, you keep telling yourself it’s not actually happening. You had your keys in hand, ready to step out the door until Eddie grasps at your wrist, nodding you back in for a glass of wine, Chardonnay, or whatever the hell he kept around in his cabinet.

“I…don’t drink wine, Eddie.” You say wearily, not complaining about the tug on your wrist as you follow him.

“I forget—you probably like beer, don’t you?” He teases, “At least I did at your age.”

Admittedly, you were twenty one—so it wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong per-say. You had graduated, opted out of college, and made most of your living through odd jobs and nannying—Eddie’s was probably the most stable you’ve been, even if you weren’t a live-in. You saw his daughter nearly everyday, dealt with his chaotic ex-wife as often as he did, and it felt like you had embedded yourself in his life. Eddie couldn’t complain, he liked having you around.

“I—I really shouldn’t.” You say regretfully, twisting the key in your hand. Eddie senses your nervousness, leaning an arm out against his open fridge. “I have to drive home and I—“

“Just one.” Eddie barters, holding up the two frosted bottles, “You don’t have to finish it if you don’t want to.”

You smile slightly, nodding despite your better judgment.

“Fine. One.” You say sternly, “And you still have to pay me for this week, don’t think I forgot.”

“Can you stretch it a week?” He asks, “I promised the little devil I’d get her that guitar she’s been begging for and her birthday is in a couple days.”

“I know.” You tell him obviously, but the smile you return is sweet. “But that’s fine—just, next week for sure. I have to pay rent.”

“Promise.” He grins, a perfect smile that has you clenching your thighs together every time. “Cheers.”

The clink of the bottles is deafening and Eddie moves to the corner of the counter where you take your seat in the barstool, leaning his torso over as he sips at the beer.

Being close wasn’t strange—you’ve sat next to him on the couch, at the dinner table, but the air is so thick you feel it caught in your throat. Your eyes flick up as the bottle tips to your lips, letting out a small giggle as he tips it up with his finger, a small amount of the liquid trickling down the side of your mouth.

You recover with a small cough, shoving at him weakly.

“Hey, that’s not nice.” You say, feigning annoyance. “You’re wasting a perfectly good beer.”

“Sorry,” He lies, taking a long chug of his own before placing it down on the counter. “So, plans for the weekend?”

He asked every week, it wasn’t strange to you. Eddie always seemed genuinely interested, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like that now—and maybe he was just stringing you along to keep you here, but you played into it so well.

You wanted it—maybe not as bad as him, but it was there.

“No,” You say shyly, shaking your head, “Just my bed and a couple movies. Same old thing.”

“No bars? No clubs?”

“Nope.” Your lips pop around the consonant, taking a small slip before shoving the bottle toward the middle. “They don’t interest me.”

“Come on,” He prys playfully, “There’s gotta be something you do for fun, sweetheart?”

And it was the same thing he had called you after a week of taking in the job, a kind endearment that didn’t make you feel any certain way, a sweet way to differentiate from calling you by your name, but it sits on his tongue like sin—begging for you to lick it off, let him defile you the way he desperately wanted to. It wasn’t lost on either of you how tense the air had become—it was Eddie’s web and he had you caught.

And as much as you enjoyed it, tonight just wasn’t the night.

He’d had a bit too much to drink, alcohol dripping from his breath.

“That is fun.” You insist, “Some of us don’t need to go out to the club and relive our younger years to feel good, you know?”

It’s meant with all the care in the world, a playful jab for how insistent he was being in keeping you here tonight, dragging out the conversation instead of getting to the point.

You would’ve been more satisfied if he had just kissed you at the door and let you leave, but then again, this was pretty enjoyable.

“You’ve never seen me play,” Eddie points out, “I think you’d really enjoy it.”

“I’m sure I would,” You agree before shaking your head slightly, “but I wouldn’t be caught dead at that bar.”

Eddie makes a face, a little taken aback at the insult.

“How come?” He asks curiously.

“A bunch of creepy old men who stick around to prey on the younger girls who sit and watch you play—no thank you.”

Eddie laughs through his nose, leaning into your space slightly.

“What about me?” He asks, wide eyes glazed over in a haze.

“Creepy? No.” You assure him. “Old—-eh?”

“I’m thirty six, that hurts.” Eddie pouts slightly.

“So old,” You reinforce, “We should probably put you into a retirement home already.”

“I can promise you, sweetheart.” Eddie says menacingly, bottom lip pulling between his teeth briefly to nip at the skin. “Nothing about me is old.”

Your eyebrows raise in subtle interest, leaning forward slightly.

“I could show you.” He suggests, eyes glancing down at your lips briefly before catching your gaze. He’s close enough that you can feel his breath, see the freckles on his face this close, faint but there. “If you want.”

He can see the gears in your head turning, deciding. But, it quickly fades as you pull back, his lips barely brushing yours.

“I have to go.” You tell him again, insisting more sternly despite how kind your voice sounds. “Eddie, we can’t.”

He looks instantly dejected, pulling back slightly and rubbing at his eyes with the palms of his hands. He’d forget this in the morning surely, his words had been slurring together most of the night and he wouldn’t have acted so boldly otherwise—would he?

“Let me walk you.” He insists, sliding your bottle toward the trash, his own following until the clink to the bottom.

The walk is slow, palpable, his toes on your heels as he hovers behind you. He grabs the door handle before you can reach for it, pulling it open silently.

“Tell her happy birthday for me?” You ask hopefully, knowing you wouldn’t be around in the day despite how much you wanted to be. “Please?”

Eddie nods quietly, lips pursed together in a tight line.

“Yeah, of course.” He assures you. “Goodnight.”

You lean up on your toes as you turn, caution to the window as you press a chaste kiss to his cheek, stubble rubbing against the sensitive skin of your lip. You can feel the sigh Eddie releases as you make contact, his hand coming to rest against your hip gently, a featherlight touch that if you were to have blinked you would surely miss.

“Goodnight.” You smile, words spoken against his skin.

It’s the same touch Eddie reminds himself of as he tightens his hand around his cock that night, stretched out and writhing on his bed in the loneliness of his empty house—and god did he wish you were there to keep him company.

His ex-wife shows up an hour before midnight, a lot more put together than you’d usually expect, but she fetches her daughter without fuss, leaving you to clean up the mess left behind.

It doesn’t take long, only a little over a half an hour—and your immediate thought is to leave, get the hell out of there, enjoy your weekend like you planned, but you still hadn’t been paid for the week prior, and you’d be damned if Eddie didn’t follow through like he promised.

“Hey—“ His voice is soft as he shakes you away, your figure hunched over the arm of the couch where you napped briefly, peering up at him through bleary eyes. You poured slightly, his face becoming clearer by the second, “did she pick her up?”

He looks surprisingly sober, which is unusual for him.

Admittedly, it was a weird night. His mind had been racing all day, he didn’t play as well as he’d wanted, and he spent the entire night hoping you’d still be there when he got home.

At least one thing has gone right for him.

“What time is it?” You ask, avoiding the question.

“A little after midnight.” He tells you, watching as you leaned up from your reclined position, adjusting your clothes and smoothing out your hair as best you could.

“Uh yeah—yeah, an hour ago.” Your speech is slow and spacey, “Why?”

“Well, I figure you would have left already.” Eddie says admittedly, running a hand through his tousled curls, the hairstyle never changed—and you were kind of grateful for it.

You’d seen pictures of him younger, mid-twenties and dating all the way back to his first day of high school—he didn’t look all that different aside from the slight aging in his face, worry lines buried into the corner of his eyes and that light scruff he wore every now and then when he didn’t shave for a week.

“You still need to pay me.” You retort with a tinge of annoyance, holding your hand out expectantly.

Eddie snorts, reaching for his wallet and slapping the fold of bills into your hand. He hadn’t forgotten at all.

“Did you have a good time?” You ask curiously, stuffing the money in your wallet before burying it back into the back placed on the coffee table, kicking your feet up behind you on the cushion as you stared up expectantly.

You could’ve fled immediately after he handed over the cash, but something was telling you otherwise. Eddie frowned slightly but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

“It was alright.” He tells you halfheartedly, “I hope my kid didn’t give you too much of a hard time, she can be a little, uh—“

“She’s never a problem for me.” You assure him.

There’s a long beat of silence as Eddie lingers about, hands shoved in his pocket as he leans against the wall. You hadn’t talked about that night, hadn’t even mentioned it, but it was still heavy on your mind—and hopefully just as heavy on his.

You pat the cushion next to you expectantly, friendly—it wasn’t out of the ordinary or weird, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate as he throws himself down lazily, stretched out at the other corner as he kicks his shoes off and onto the floor, smiling at you like he always did.

“No groupies tonight?” You tease, knowing he’d had a few experiences with them, none of them memorable or positive.

They were always messy and weird and everything he hated.

Eddie mocks a laugh and rolls his eyes slightly, “I shouldn’t have gone out tonight anyways, too much on my mind.”

You give him a skeptical look, turning to him fully with your arms bugged around your legs, chin tucked up by your knees. He tries to ignore how innocent you look, wide eyes and eager, hanging on his every last word.

“You wouldn’t understand.” He excuses, letting out a deep, heavy sigh as he rests his head against the back of the couch, legs spreader unnecessarily wide. Your eyes draw to the stretch in his jeans near his groin, quickly darting up to meet his gaze with a soft smile.

“Try me.” You shrug, tongue poking out slightly between teeth as you bite down gently, “You’d be surprised.”

Eddie huffs again, a mix between a laugh and flippant noise of dismissal, “Come closer.” He suggested, motioning toward the cushion positioned between you two. You crawled forward without question, resuming a similar position. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“No—this couch feels amazing, actually.” You tell him honestly.

“Sweetheart.” He says like a prayer, head tilted down slightly despite how his gaze still stays. “That’s not what I mean.”

And he’s not drunk—stone cold fucking sober, actually. That’s what intimidates you the most, his willingness to do whatever he felt he needed to have you. It wasn’t just the influence of fuzzy inhibitions. It was genuine, selfish want. Something he knew he shouldn’t have, couldn’t have—yet here you were.

“Around you?” You ask, he nods slowly. “Never.”

The touch he returns is careful, fingers wrapping around your ankle gently, rubbing soft touches into the skin. You follow his movements, the silence lingering.

“And now?” Eddie asks quietly, eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning back to his slowly moving hand.

A slow drag of his middle finger up your calf, up under the curve of your knee until he can wrap his fingers around it and widen your legs slightly, arms spilling from where they’re snug and tight around you, forcing you to sit up slightly. There’s no resistance when he pushes your legs apart, eyes darting toward the apex of your thighs. Your breath catches slightly, hands falling behind you in an effort to keep you upright. You’ve never been more thankful than to have chosen a dress on a night like this and Eddie can’t even act like he’s able to keep it together, thin lace panties on display before his very eyes.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks when you don’t answer his first question, your chest rising and falling rapidly at his lingering touch, guiding along the inside of your thigh. The leg that isn’t bracketed against the back of the couch falters to the floor, spreading you so wide that Eddie has no other choice but to rub his fingers over the clothed mound of your cunt, pulling a soft gasp from your chest. “Answer me.”

“Nono,” You rush out embarrassingly quickly, “please, don’t.”

It’s exactly what he wants to hear. Needy, desperate—everything he was feeling just as intensely.

“Have you ever been touched like this?” He asks, words careful and precise, his movements as such, dragging a single finger down the seam, pressing into the growing spot of wetness there.

And you can’t take your eyes off of him, same as he does for you, it’s so much more than admiring your body, rather admiring the way you react to his touches, taking it all in. Your mouth hangs slightly, soft breathy gasp escaping.

You shake your head shyly. As much as you would’ve liked to lie and say you had tons of experience, you didn’t. Most of the time you lied, afraid of the ridicule, but you’d been saving yourself for someone special—and if that was Eddie, so be it.

His finger curves around the barrier of your underwear, forcing it to the side until there’s skin against skin and he feels it, if he wasn’t attempting be so coy he’d make a comment about how wet you already were, but the words are lost on him as he drags a finger through the pool of wetness and presses gently against your clit, unmoving as he watches you.

“Is this okay?” He checks in again. There was never a doubt in his mind, but he needed to ask for reassurance, to know that he wasn’t just dreaming again. “Do you like it?”

You bite harshly at your bottom lip, nodding a fervent yes in response. The heat invades your face, your eyes, practically your entire body as it flushes under Eddie’s gaze. The tension had always been there, but it had finally snapped and you couldn’t help but stare at him now, watching as his face contorted into his own version of pleasure, idly running his open palm over the front of his pants, palming his growing cock as it sat heavy in his jeans.

“Talk to me, sweetheart.” He encourages, “Don’t go shy on me now.”

You giggle softly—it was completely unlike you, knowing you talked his ear off every chance you had, but there wasn’t a single word or thought in your head that made sense right now.

“I’m sorry,” You apologize meekly, “I don’t know what—what to say.”

Eddie smiles warmly, head resting back against the couch as he slips a finger inside you wordlessly, just the beginning of his first knuckle, not enough of an intrusion to make you feel anything.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” He says softly, “how you feel, maybe?”

“Good,” You chirp quickly, “I’m okay.”

His finger pushes in more, breaching past the tight entrance and you gasp, finally breaking eye contact as your head luls back, gaze caught on the ceiling as he moves slowly, pulling his finger out gently before pushing back in—it’s torture, count throbbing with every movement he made. You could hear the soft ruffle of fabric, metal against metal and a zipper being undone and when you finally have the courage to look up, you’re not sure you’ll ever recover.

It’s not the first dick you’ve seen and you’re not sure it will be the last, but you can’t help staring and taking it all in. They’re never pretty or enticing or enough to make your mouth water—but with Eddie, that’s all out the window.

He’s thick, cut, and everything that intimidates you. He’s confident in the way he holds him, let’s spread wide as his hands come down to cup his balls gently before traveling up his shaft, squeezing over the sensitive head.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He coos, pulling his working fingers out to glide over your clit, rubbing soft and timid circles until you’re moaning out his name—it’s like music to his ears. “You’ve really never done anything?”

“I’ve—I’ve kissed boys.” You admit, “And girls—but never, never—“

“Never let them touch you,” He finishes for you, “have you?”

You nod, affirming his statement.

“Can I have you?” He asks softly, voice sweet and dripping with adoration, “I want you to be sure, don’t lie to me.”

And you can’t even properly describe how badly you’ve wanted him. It felt like crossing a line—like sleeping with your boss, but lust wins you over.

You nod slowly, “Yes. Just—I don’t know what I’m doing, not really. I don’t want to screw anything up.”

“There’s not much to it,” He comforts, removing his hand from your aching cunt and grabbing your own hand, guiding it over his dick, pulling his shirt up slightly where the tip rests against his lower stomach. You always forget how toned he is, how well he takes care of his body, always hiding himself under his work clothes and suits, “I’ll talk you through, okay?”

“Okay.” You answer, letting him squeeze your fingers around the shaft, dragging your hand up slightly before pulling back down, creating a slow rhythm. He grunts softly, eyes half-lidded as he continues the motion until he thinks you’ve got it, resting his hand over your thigh, traveling up until he can squeeze at the curve of your hip, feet tucked under you as you lean over his lap slightly. It’s like soft velvet against your even softer fingertips—Eddie notices the difference immediately, used to his horrible calloused hands all worked and worn out from his jobs, the joints aching with age. It gets the job down, but it’s never as good as this. Ever.

It does grow boring though—not that you didn’t enjoy every soft sound and subtle face that Eddie made when you squeezed him a little too harshly or teased your thumb over the head of his cock, swirling through the oppulescent precome heading at the tip.

“Can I—“ The words catch in your throat when his eyes lick on, peeking out from under his previously closed eyelids.

He sees the way you glance toward his dick, smiling at your bashful awkwardness and nods, “If you ask nicely, that is.”

He’s only teasing, but he loves watching you squirm, trying to find the courage to ask for what you want. You’re always so confident, sure of yourself—it’s one of the reasons Eddie adored you so much, there was never any doubt with you. He never had to worry.

“Please?” You retort playfully, watching as Eddie’s grin grew wider, “Please, Eddie?”

He nods, urging you down between his spread legs, forcing his jeans down further until he can remove them fully, letting you settle until you're comfortable.

You expect it to feel a little awkward, peering up at him as he does down to you, cock still heavy in your hand as he pushes your hair away, gathering it into his hands skillfully—but truthfully, the feeling never approaches.

You’ve talked to your friends about it before, seen small clips in porn, and none of it ever really made sense, and especially not now as you’re sitting between his legs, staring at his dick and hoping that you weren’t about to make a complete full of yourself.

“Don’t laugh.” You tell him, a small pout forming on your face.

“Never, sweetheart.” He comforts you, free hand rubbing the underside of your chin, following as your lips draw forward, closing over the head of cock, swirling your tongue testingly over the tip, through the slit to taste the salty slick of him that had formed there. Eddie groans softly, the first real noise he’s made all night, face scrunching up in concentration as he cradled your head, hair and all, as you moved your way down, taking him sparingly into your mouth until your lips connected with the hand you had around him, covering what you couldn’t reach.

“That’s it.” He compliments, “Fuck, that’s perfect.”

You barely acknowledge him, but given how hard you were trying to concentrate on not fucking up, he understood. His words flowed freely, openly, and once they started they never stopped.

“Look at you, so pretty with my dick in your mouth.” Eddie says softly, pulling your chin forward slightly from where he had a tight grip on your face, forcing you deeper. You gagged slightly, breathing through your nose. “Hold it, sweetheart. I know you can.”

If you weren’t so eager to please, you would’ve pulled away immediately, but you allow him to hold you there, cock heavy on your tongue until you can’t take it anymore, pulling away with a harsh gasp, lips shining obscenely as you stared up at Eddie.

It’s the same look he had the first time he met you, but a sharp edge of something more, something dangerous.

“Stand up,” He instructs, a guiding hand running along your thigh as you go, fingers delving under your dress to pull at your underwear, slipping the fabric down your legs carefully. He flips the fabric of your dress up, dragging the soft surface of his lips along your upper thigh, eyes following you the entire way, “good, sweetheart—can I taste you?”

You nod quickly, hands cautiously running over the top of his head and through his thick curls, whimpering soundly at the way he chuckles, deep and gruff against your cunt, raising your leg over his shoulder carefully, his hands resting at your back to steady you.

It’s like scolding hot fire with the first touch, his tongue delving deep and running up your cunt, ghosting along your clit as he bites playfully at your folds, looking up at you sparingly to gauge your reaction.

You couldn’t even act like you were able to keep it together, moaning unabashedly as the hands in his hair soon traveled down his back, body curling over him slightly as he made it his mission to torture you relentlessly, sucking at your sensitive clit until you’re softly tapping at his back, silently begging for a break while the words are still caught in your throat.

“Tapping out already?” He teases, squeezing the soft globes of your ass. You shake your head defiantly, peaking his interest

“I want you,” You tell him coyly, “I’ve been thinking about it and—“

“Oh, hey—“ He soothes, “That’s special, you don’t have to give that to me, sweetheart. You’ve already given me plenty.”

Another defiant head shake, shoving his hands away as you took a careful seat on his lap, his eyes following you intensely, arms held out at his side as you seated yourself against his cock, the heat of your cunt striking his body with the reality of this situation.

“No, you don’t get to do that.” You tell him, noticing the concerned look on his face, “I’m capable of making my own decisions.”

Eddie smiles slightly, reaching up to cradle the side of your face tenderly. He can see the subtle pout on your face, bottom lip poking out slightly—and he feels the overwhelming want to kiss you, force it off of your face. So, he does.

And he kisses with a forcefulness you’ve never felt—he’s not timid or unsure. Eddie’s confident, given his experience, he had no reason to doubt himself. You whimpering softly, his teeth pulling your bottom lip in, tongue sneaking its way in and tasting the saltiness of himself on you. He pulls away briefly, nose bumping yours.

“One problem, sweetheart,” Eddie starts regretfully, “I don’t have any condoms—I’m not really used to using them anymore.”

You shake your head fervently, “That’s not a problem.” You assure him, “Trust me.”

You didn’t need to explain and Eddie didn’t feel the need to ask—it wasn’t hard to piece the information together. But god, he’s never been more thankful for modern medicine.

“You sure?” Eddie asks again, lips grazing yours as he speaks, chin resting against his fingers, rubbing delicately at your skin. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Eddie,” You chide softly, “I want you to fuck me.”

He laughs at that, your boldness startling him slightly.

And he doesn’t need to be told more than once, taking control of the situation as he lifts your hips, bracing you over the head of his cock, allowing you to ease down at your own pace. It’s nothing like you were expecting, more of a dull sting if anything—but the filling of fullness, it’s overwhelming.

You rock your hips gently, watching as Eddie’s eyes fell to the place where you were joined with him, dress lifted up slightly as he reached for your clit, rubbing gentle circles to distract your wandering mind—and it works perfectly, gasping when you feel him deep, buried inside you as the back of your thighs hit his lap.

“God, you’re fucking perfect.” He comments idly, eyes falling shut as he leaned back—and it’s infuriating that you can’t see his chest, hidden behind the buttons of his shirt; a ridiculous black button up, making him look well beyond his years. You yank at the buttons with steady hands until the skin peeks through and you can shove the shirt off his shoulders, hands placed firmly against his chest.

You’ve never seen his tattoos this close, not that you could focus much now, but your hand closes over the one of his chest and your blunt fingertips dig into the skin as you lift your hips and seat yourself just as swiftly, punching a ragged groan from the both of you.

“Knew you’d be this good,” Eddie admits, “Thought—thought about it every fucking night.”

“Oh?” You challenge softly, “Tell me?”

Eddie nods, though the struggle to remain cool is evident on his face, losing his focus every time you clench around him, grunting with every little movement you make.

“Just like this,” He admits, “taking me so fucking well, too.”

You nod in agreement, humming as you leaned forward to drag your lips along his jawline, “Like…I was made for you?” You ask teasingly, giggling at his airy groan.

“You’re fucking devious,” Eddie retorts, “not nearly as innocent as I thought you’d be.”

His hands grip your hips tightly, pulling you impossibly deeper, closer, and you can’t bother to keep yourself upright, letting him do the work, hips snapping into you with force.

“What—what do you mean?” You stammer through broken gasps, “I’m so innocent, Eddie.”

“Not a chance,” Eddie disagrees, eyes squeezing tight as he buried his face into your neck, sucking a faint bruise into the skin, “be honest with me.”

“I wasn’t—wasn’t lying.” You respond, words dying out on a desperate plea, his hand snaking between you both, rubbing insistent circles over your clit. “I don’t do this stuff—was waiting for the right person, you know?”

Eddie nearly comes then, panting desperately into your skin.

“You think I’m the right person?” Eddie asks redundantly, given your current situation—that was pretty goddamn obvious.

“Your cock is inside me, what do you think?” You ask playfully, eyebrows furrowing in anguish as Eddie makes a quick pass over your swollen bundle of nerves, driving you over the edge unexpectedly, clinging to Eddie out of instinct, letting him rock you through the duration of your orgasms until he’s coming deep inside you, legs shaking as he groans pitifully.

And despite his obvious exhaustion, he retorts a snarky, “I think I’m the perfect person, sweetheart.”

You smile, leaning forward to press a sloppy, passionately filled kiss against his lips, nodding slightly at his response.

“Same time next week?” You ask cheekily and Eddie chuckles in response, biting gently at your shoulder at your obvious playfulness.

Eddie hums thoughtfully, “How about tomorrow?”

And even if you had plans, they diminished into thin air, offering Eddie an affirmative smile.

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[sebsbarnes]

jealousy || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle.

warnings: mildly toxic dynamic, semi-suggestive (no descriptions)

word count: 900+

tangerine masterlist

your eyes followed the two figures amongst the crowd as if losing them was a sin. your fingers drummed against the now wet glass of your drink as the heat inside the club combatted with the ice. you were infuriated, to say the least. truth be told you were jealous, hungry for the attention not being provided to you, but to someone else. you wish you could blame the way your body was pulsating on the ear-ringing music but you knew it was because you were watching tangerine dance behind a girl, his eyes now piercing into your own.

tangerine and you were...messy.

there was really no solidified relationship between the two of you, however, it was evident that the late-night rendezvous indicated you two weren’t just friends. there were many nights spent staying up until the sun rose and many days spent tucked under sheets. he was still staring at you, whispering things into the woman's ear causing her to giggle and all you could do was suck your teeth, seething in anger.

"well don't ya look fuckin' jolly," lemon chuckled bumping into your shoulder, taking the seat next to you. you broke the staring contest to glare at lemon.

"i get we're on a fuckin' mission but jesus could it look like he wants to fuck her anymore?!" you spit.

"relax champ. let him work his magic and we will be outta here soon enough," lemon said patting your shoulder.

tangerine's back was now facing you and lemon and all you could see was the woman throwing her head back in laughter, her fingers tracing up and down tan's back. you could vomit right there or you could kill her, she was the enemy anyway what's the difference? you felt your throat constricting watching his arm move to grab her face, planting a kiss below her ear. with force you swiveled in your chair to face the bartender.

"three shots of tequila please," you almost begged.

"any of those for me?" lemon joked trying to suppress his amusement at the situation.

the first shot slid down your throat burning the entire way down to your stomach, "over my dead body."

the other two shots went down with ease and the fuzzy sensation was coursing through your body. it helped the jealousy subside even though you knew they were still dancing behind you. just as you were about to close your tab, a large hand situated itself where your neck and shoulder meet and a black credit card was thrown on the counter. you rolled your eyes so hard that it hurt.

"gettin' drunk on the job hm?" tangerine quipped bending dangerously close to the right side of your face. you could feel his breath on your ear.

"at least i wasn't trying to fuck on the dance floor," you retorted looking at tangerine through your eyelashes.

he let out a short fake laugh running his hand down his chest to smooth out his vest, "you know i only save that for you, love."

you ignored him and the warmth throughout your body and stood up wobbling a bit. from the other side lemon balanced you and nodded his head for the three of you to leave. you sauntered behind lemon, tangerine behind you which he liked quite a great deal. you could feel his eyes burning into every inch of your body and you purposely swayed your hips a bit more. he knew you were fuming about his actions and he loved it. the two of you loved making the other jealous. it was a sick cycle.

the three of you were now outside heading towards the car when you heard a pair of heels behind you and then two voices. turning around you saw the woman from earlier, the lady the three of you were here to steal information from, now talking to tangerine with a hand on his chest. their voices were quiet and tangerine's eyes quickly glanced over at you as he shot the woman a feigned smile. at this moment you didn't even care. you stalked over to the two pushing the woman to the side gripping tangerine's tie with such force it nearly ripped from the collar. the woman had stumbled to the side but she was now an afterthought as you shoved tangerine against the brick wall nearby.

you grabbed his face resting your palms on his cheeks and kissed him roughly. your fingernails scraped across his scalp, his hair knotting in between your fingers. his hands found themselves on your waist pulling you in closer. tangerine's tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you gladly let him in. he could taste the tequila and he couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the kiss making his head fuzzy. but he loved it and he wanted more. he wanted every inch of your body on him. he wanted you underneath him, your nails marking his back as he kissed the special spot on your neck.

"we gotta get the fuck outta here love," tangerine grumbled against your lips swinging your body into his arms and trekking to the car.

as you retreated to the car in tangerine's arms you glanced over his shoulder. the woman had stayed where she was in shock and all you could do was wiggle your fingers at her in goodbye knowing she was staying here while you left with tangerine knowing soon enough he'd find home between your legs.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

kirashino in killer queen's pov

You know what, I almost didn't do this one, thinking I had nothing interesting to say, but it turned out to be the microfic I had the most fun writing. Fittingly, this is also going to be the last microfic for this round! Thanks so much to everyone who sent in suggestions. I'm going to get back to editing some longer stuff, and hopefully posting more art soon! ---

This is the way of things. First there was one: Kira. Then another: Killer Queen.

Kira is a man with a man’s heart, a man’s appetites, a man’s joys and sorrows and petty tantrums. He keeps a house, goes to work, eats and sleeps and shits and talks sweetly to people he would happily feed feet first into a wood chipper. When his urges bubble up, hissing and spitting like hot milk over the lip of a sauce pan, that is when Killer Queen comes forward.

Killer Queen is a tool. Since it first emerged from Kira some fifteen-odd years ago, it has not changed in any fundamental way: smooth, vaguely feline in form, adorned in skulls and samurai swords, symbols it does not comprehend the full meaning of.

Killer Queen’s primary task is of separation. Separating body from person, limb from body, hand from limb, all without damaging them too much. And when Kira is finished with these disparate parts, when they begin to leak and sweat and stink of corruption, Killer Queen devours them, leaving nothing behind. That is what it does.

There are exceptions, of course, times when Killer Queen is needed for other purposes. The destruction of the snotty-nosed child whose stand swarmed them like fleas. The schoolboy who had pinned Sheer Heart Attack in place, but more importantly, stung Kira with his words, sending Killer Queen lashing out, cat-quick. Kira himself, forcing Killer Queen’s hand to sever his own, an action as painful as forcing blood to pump backwards.

Sometimes, rarely, when Kira is sunk deep into the dark well of a dream, Killer Queen is called forth for no apparent purpose at all.

It is theorized by some that deep in the mazelike folds of the brain, neurons fire almost at random, tiny messengers ignorant of the messages they carry. These cells have no comprehension of their importance, and yet the slightest scratch in cortex can render a man blind, deaf, or amnesiac, unable to remember what he had for breakfast or the face of his beloved grandmother. The world outside the body is not, a place of objective fact, but utter darkness, illuminated only by the scant and scattered efforts of a few million thready gray tendrils.

Such is the same with Killer Queen. It does not emerge because it wants to, but because it is called. The higher purpose behind the summons eludes it entirely. It does not perceive time away from the world as anything other than absence; it does not long to feel sunlight on its face, or to fight, or to kill.

Kira asks, Killer Queen answers. That’s the way of things.

On this night, Killer Queen hangs in the air like a haze, moonlight limning the pale curves and angles of its body. Its arms hang loosely at its sides. This is not Kira’s bedroom, but some other place, a place he has been spending most of his time in the last month or so. There is nothing to destroy in this room. Kira is-

a cat, a most beautiful tomcat with a silky soft coat, with lovely whiskers arranged just so, with eyes like deep blue pools, and he is cradled in the arms of a woman as she strokes his head, his cheeks, his chest. He does not understand what she is saying, but the words are soft, and when he nibbles on her finger she coos, delighted. Saliva wells from the corners of his mouth and dangles from his chin in long pearly strings.   

- deeply asleep, eyelids twitching. His face is different, but his habits are the same. His dreams are the same.

The woman, whose name does not matter, because she will be dead soon, is in the room too. She’s curled up like a pillbug next to Kira, face buried in the pillows. When he is awake, Kira wants very badly to strangle her, but he is not awake, so Killer Queen does nothing.

Outside, insects buzz and frogs peep. The dim orange light of the streetlamp flickers, throwing strange shadows over the sleepers. Devoid of intent, Killer Queen can only watch. Its unblinking eyes do not waver, its preternaturally muscular frame does not grow tired. Its focus is absolute.

It watches the woman stir and sit up, raise her arms in a stretch. It watches her leave the room, then come back with a glass of water. It watches her take a sip and place the glass on the nightstand, before sitting down on the side of the bed.

Kira sighs. The woman turns. She runs a hand through his hair, the movement slow and hesitant at first, until he shifts closer with a soft groan of contentment. His heart rate slows, his breathing steadies.

The woman says something to him, but it does not matter what, exactly, the words are. She sits and pets him, and gradually a soft noise begins to permeate the room, a noise only audible to the one person not awake to hear it. Kira-

knows her, this woman. This voice, this touch, the loose strand of reddish-brown hair tickling his fur, all are familiar. He stretches up to touch his nose to her nose, blinking at her, greeting her. His tiny pink tongue darts out to taste her. She laughs, and holds him close, and he feels content.

-is dead to the world, lost in his own private reverie.

The noise is like the idling engine of a well maintained motorcycle, or the deep-voiced treadle of an elephantine sewing machine, or the stuttering whirl and hum of a serpentine belt, spinning and spinning and spinning. It is like all of those things and none of those things.

Kira is the man, and Killer Queen is his tool, nothing more, nothing less. Nonetheless, tonight it purrs.

[sparklingchan]

The way I love you || Lee Minho (Stray Kids)

Pairing: Reader(fem.) X Lee Know

Word count : 4k+

Warnings : Sexual implications, making out, prostitution, mentions of alcohol, mentions of death, cuss words.

Genre : Romance, angst, royal AU, suggestive.

Description: He was a prince, bound by his duty. She was a harlot, longing for someone to love her truly. In stolen moments beneath the moonlit city, they dared to dream of a love meant to be.

A/N : HELLO MY TUMBLR FAM! I'm back again with the Royal fics haha. And this time it's my boi Lino<3 I hope y’all like this! It's one of my favorites!

And as I promised, I'll make a masterlist for all the Royal fics. Here is the link. Do check out the other fics in this series(the stories are not interrelated)!

Minho hates coming to the main market; he hates the sticky workers bumping into him, he hates the smell of burnt meat, he hates the sound of noisy instruments people play in the name of music.

The only things he does like about the market is the wine, and you.

"Here for y/n again, my Prince?" One of the courtesans-Taylor- asks him just as he enters the tavern. She wears the brightest of lipsticks and smells like jasmine.

"I'm here for the wine." He says, which is only half a lie.

"As you say, my prince," Taylor giggles, "Your y/n is on the third floor as always. She hasn't had any customers today."

He walks the flight of stairs without breaking sweat and knocks on your door, excitement bubbling inside him.

The door opens and he catches a whiff of your rose scented perfume.

"Well, hello there," you smile at him, "Long time, huh?"

He chuckles, "It's only been three days, y/n."

You pull him inside by his collar, shut the door behind him and immediately draw your mouth to his.

You'd missed him, clearly.

In your dark lit bedroom, many men entered everyday for the purpose of their pleasure. But Minho was the only who entered this room everyday only to please you.

"Excited, aren't we?" He asks you when you push him onto the bed and climb over him, "I missed you, y/n."

You kiss him again; this time with more force, more passion and a lot more tongue. He reciprocates your action with equal enthusiasm.

As the night grows colder and darker, you find yourself cuddling with the man under your quilt. The love bites on both of your bodies barely visible under the light of a single candle.

"I wonder what magic keeps me coming back for more everyday. " Minho says softly, his fingers playing with your hair.

"Oh, does the 'Perfect Prince' not want to be seen in a whore's bed? Does it embarrass him?" You ask, playfully.

His mouth twists into a smirk, "Never. Not even in a thousand years."

He kisses you again and again and again until the last candle dies out and the quilt finds its place in some corner of the floor.

*

"Taylor, it's too early to be bothering me with customers!" You yell first thing in the morning, still sleepy and still cold from the absence of Minho's body against you.

"Y/n, it's not a customer. I need to talk to you." She yells back, "Open the door."

Groaning, you push yourself towards the door.

"What is it?"

Her face lacks the usual cheerfulness. She looks grim. Sad, almost.

"Minho didn't wanna wake you up," she pulls an envelope from her pocket, "He asked me to give you this."

"Okay. I'll read it later." You mutter. It's not unusual for Minho to deliver love letters for you sometimes. What's so special about this one?

"Y/n, read it." Taylor says, "Now."

There's an underlying urgency in her words that she tries to mask but doesn't escape your notice.

You walk back to your bed and open the letter.

Hi, y/n.

This is probably the last time that I'm writing to you. I feel sick even just at the thought of being without you but I have to do my princely duties now.

I'm getting married to Princess Sophie soon. My father commands it.

Y/n, I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me someday. I really meant it when I said I loved you.

Minho.

Inside the half empty envelope are a few coins of gold.

He paid you. For sleeping with him. For the first time ever.

It's as if the air is forced out of your lungs. You find it hard to breathe, hard to keep your eyes open, hard to even comprehend Taylor's questions.

You're not even in that room anymore.

You are by the river at midnight, with Minho. He'd set up a fire and covered the both of you with a quilt while he sung a soft melody.

You are in the rain, shouting profanities at each other. That was the day when he first told you he loved you.

You are at the tavern's terrace, kissing him for the first time.

You are at the Royal Palace. That's the day he first sees you, bold and loud, not afraid to say 'no' to sleeping with his monstrous father.

You are at the main market, buying a new pair of earrings when an injured Prince shows up at the shop. That's when you first see him.

You only had one regret at present.

You never got to tell him how much you loved him.

*

"Y/n, I know you're grieving but you cannot refuse customers anymore. You know this is what brings food to your table!" Taylor wraps a shawl around your half naked frame, "You always knew Minho could not just leave the palace and come live with you in this brothel, didn't you?"

You'd had another episode today; screaming and punching a customer while he tried to take your clothes off.

That's three days in a row.

If Taylor hadn't been there, the boss would have killed you with his own bare hands.

"I know," you say, "But I just...can't. I cannot bring myself to accept the fact that he burnt down the past year to the worth of a few coins. I have no lust for gold. I have no desire for a family, especially when my own father sold me here. I only loved him and now, he's fucking gone."

Taylor rubs your shoulders gently.

"Y/n, I know. But you have to get yourself together or you will only hurt yourself." She replies, "For all I know, he could be already married now. Sticking his fucking tongue in Sophie's mouth."

You look up at her.

"What do you mean? His wedding is today?" You ask.

She nods, "The city has been decorated like never before."

You force yourself out of her embrace and rush towards your cupboard.

"What are you doing, y/n?" Taylor asks.

"Going to crash a royal wedding."

*

Minho has developed a habit of looking for your eyes everywhere he goes. It's not a good one, but he can't seem to get rid of this habit.

And on his wedding day, as he stands at the alter, holding his fiancé's hand while the priest talks about loving, cherishing and honoring Princess Sophie for life, he cannot stop himself from looking for you in the sea of people.

Rich and powerful people from all over the world are present in the hall but somewhere in between these people, he sees a glimpse of someone he knows. Too well, in fact.

"Y/n?" He whispers to himself, heart pounding against his chest.

"Minho, are you alright? Your hands are getting sweaty." Sophie whispers but he just shrugs, his eyes glued to you.

As were yours, to his.

You didn't think he'd notice you amongst the velvet clad aristocrats but he did. And you wish he hadn't.

The bride and groom exchange wine glasses and have a sip from it.

"If anyone has any objections to this holy matrimony, speak now. Or hold your peace forever." The priest announces and the room goes quiet.

Of course no one would object to this wedding.

No one except you.

Minho sees a single hand raised among the crowd.

"Yes, miss?" The priest says.

"How could the prince marry another woman when his child grows inside me? What about the seed that he left behind? If I choose to give birth to this child, will it be your successor, my prince?"

Minho feels the blood drain from his face.

"You! How dare you?" Minho screams at you, his heart breaking into a million pieces. He would never speak to you in this way, but he has to. To protect you from this mess you'd created, he must be harsh.

He is the prince and he will be safe but you, they wouldn't spare you.

"How dare you?" You yell back, eyes bloodshot, "Do you think a few coins could make up for what you did to me?"

"Quiet! You whore! Dare you to disrupt a royal wedding with false accusations?" The king-Minho's father finally speaks. "Guards! Take her to the guillotine and bedhead her!"

"Father, no! I will deal with this in my own way." Minho says, almost losing his calm. "Guards, take the woman to the dungeons."

Your tears roll down your cheeks and you quickly rub them off with your hand as the guards take you down to the dungeons. You're sure he's gonna get you killed.

You take one last glance at the man you love and smile at him.

So long, Minho.

*

The wedding is called off and Princess Sophie storms out of the wedding hall along with her father. Of course, Minho's father was furious.

"I will kill her. I will kill her with my bare hands!" The king slams his fist against the table, "She ruined everything! Everything!"

"Father, please calm down." Hyunjin-Minho's younger brother says. "We have to think of a way to make up with Princess Sophie and her family."

"He's right. Being angry won't solve our problem." Minho says, twirling the wine in his glass, a playful smile on his face.

The king glares at his eldest son, walks toward him and smashes the glass from his hands.

"How dare you sit in my room, relaxed as ever, while you've fucked up so bad?" He yells, " You slept with a common whore, impregnated her and I have to suffer for it?"

Minho wants to defend himself but he knows it's of no use when the king raises his fist in the air and punches right at Minho's nose.

Minho smells the blood before he sees it.

Hyunjin tries to stop the king and mouths at Minho, leave now.

Minho does as he is told.

That night, as he cleans the blood from his face, he finally let's himself relax a little.

Today was a blunder, a total disaster but at least he didn't have to marry some other woman. He couldn't imagine life with a woman he didn't love. He considered himself a coward for not fighting for you enough, which is why you were in prison. Nevertheless, he swears to himself that he will save you from this mess. It didn't matter what he had to do, he would make sure you're out of prison by tomorrow.

"You're a reckless idiot, y/n." He mutters to himself, "But you're my reckless idiot."

*

You've never seen Taylor look this sad before. Her eyes are bloodshot and the tip of her nose shines red.

"I told you," she says to you, handing you some food, "I told you not to do this. Now look what they've done! Minho has you locked up and you can be sentenced to death any minute!"

"Well, it was worth a shot, really." You say to her.

Taylor snickers at your words, "Also, are you really pregnant or did you make it up to get his attention?"

You chuckle, "Of course I'm not pregnant. I just thought it would add a bit spice to the drama."

"Fine. Whatever. Just do not die on me, y/n. I swear. You're my.." Taylor sucks in a deep breath, "You're my only family. Please."

You blink your tears away before Taylor even notices. You take a spoonful of the porridge she made and stuff it in your mouth so you'd forget about her words. You're too weak for this right now.

"Y/n, just promise me-" Taylor is interrupted by the prison guard.

"Prince Minho is here to see you."

Even the porridge in your mouth does not stop your heart from aching and your eyes from tearing up.

Why is he here?

"Your majesty." Taylor greets him with the basic courtesy. You, on the other hand are looking at everything but him.

"Taylor, may I have a word with y/n alone? My guards here will take you up to my room. I have something important to discuss with you as well."

Taylor nods with a word and follows his guard.

Now it's just you and him. In a jail cell. While your heart breaks knowing he will serve you with capital punishment.

Is it the heavens punishing a common whore like yourself for loving the prince?

Perhaps.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Minho says in a soft whisper. His voice is filled with concern but you cannot look at him. Absolutely not.

If you even as much glance at those eyes you'd fallen in love with, you know you might lose all your will power.

"Fine." You reply sternly, "What do you want?"

Minho sucks in a deep breath, "I wish I had more time to explain but it'll all make sense some day, okay? For now, just trust me."

He offers you a vial of clear liquid.

"It's not anything bad, I swear. Just trust me, please. " He puts it on your palm.

His touch sends shivers down your spine.

And just like that, he turns around and walks away.

You stare at the vile in your hands and for a split second, you wonder if he'd handed you some type of poison. You wish he did.

And when you open the vial and gulp down that bitter liquid, you pray to the gods that you never wake up again because that's when your body hits the ground.

*

Hyunjin is anxious from the moment he wakes up in the morning.

He's anxious while he has breakfast, he's anxious while he avoids the eyes of palace officials to sneak into the old quarters of his mother.

He's especially anxious when he sees you lying on the bed, lips pale and stiff.

"I hope this works for God's sake." He pulls out a vial of purple liquid from his pocket and carefully, pours it into your mouth.

He curses Minho for handing him with the scariest possible task ever.

And as he paces the room, waiting for the antidote to work, he prays to every God, every spirit, every deity he's ever heard of.

Within a few minutes, much to his relief, your eyes open.

You look at Hyunjin alarmingly.

"You..You're his brother." You say, almost as if accusing him of a crime, "Aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Hyunjin." He seats at the foot of the bed, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. But my head hurts real bad." You reply, "Where's Minho? That bastard gave me a bitter drink and disappeared!"

Hyunjin notices your hopeful gaze go from the ceiling of the room to his face and then to his outfit. The mourning outfit.

"Why are you in mourning? And why are you wearing that badge with a dove on it?" Your voice is alarmed and you immediately sit up.

You remember Minho had once told you that the dove badge worn by the Royal family implies a death of a member of the Royal bloodline.

"Is Minho okay?" Your words are almost a whisper.

"Well, y/n, it's a little complicated, I will be honest but if you come with me now and trust me on this-"

"Why the fuck does every keep on asking me to trust them? What is going on? Either let me die in peace or let me leave this palace! I cannot take this anymore. And, for the love of God, would you tell me if Minho is okay or not?"

"He's alive." Hyunjin sighs, " Everyone thinks he committed suicide last night. The city is mourning the death of their crown prince. "

You're confused, "But he's alive, right?"

Hyunjin manages a smile, "Yes, he's alive. He staged his death and is waiting for you by the river bank. "

You jump out of the bed at once, heart pounding against your chest.

"Take me to him, please."

*

The river bank is the most beautiful place in the city, filled with shops and tourists and traders and singers and life. It's beautiful. Unlike your room in the brothel, which was as lifeless as anything could get.

The only one who made that room lively was Minho.

Minho who taught you to play cards, Minho who once beat up a customer because he was harassing you, Minho who promised he'd give anything to get you out of that hell hole.

Minho who loved you.

Now, Minho stands by a boat, wearing a straw hat and gripping his sword tightly. Taylor stands beside him, a brown package in her hands.

And when Minho's eyes meet yours, you run to him as if he'd run away if you didn't, disappear into thin air, leaving you alone in that cold dark room once again.

And oh! Minho is so warm as he wraps you in his embrace. He's warm like the sun on the coldest winter morning, warm like a cup of tea, warm like a freshly baked cookie. He's warm and he's yours.

"What..what is going on?" You sob into his embrace, "Please, will you stay with me? Minho, please?"

Minho is crying too, which is surprising because you've never seen him cry. Upset maybe , but crying never.

Yet here he is crying like a newborn baby, crying because a part of him knows he's managed to save you somehow.

"I'm not leaving okay?" He says, still crying, caressing your cheeks, "We're gonna go far from this city. We're never coming back okay?"

You can only nod as Taylor gently pats your head.

"This is a farewell gift. From me." She smiles at you, handing you the package, "It's a wedding dress that I made. I hope you can wear it when the day comes."

And you're crying again. But this time, you're crying into Taylor's embrace. It's hard leaving behind someone who loved you like a sister.

"We'll write to you. We promise. As soon as we find a proper place to stay, we will write to you both. " Minho says, to Taylor and to his brother.

"Sorry for burdening you with this country. " Minho whispers when Hyunjin hugs him, "I hope you forgive me someday."

"Bullshit. Really, I've always wanted to kill you and get this crown for myself. You only made my job easier." Hyunjin jokes, patting Minho's back.

Minho chuckles. The boatman catches his eye and points to the sun.

"We should get going now, y/n. They'll be holding a prayer in the afternoon and we cannot risk anyone seeing us before we leave."

You nod, kissing Taylor's head softly, holding her gift close to your chest.

"Do visit us sometime." You say to both of them and they nod in unison.

Minho helps you on the boat and hands a few coins to the boatman.

The soft current of the river pushes your boat farther away from the shore, Taylor and Hyunjin wave goodbye to you. You feel horrible leaving behind the city of your birth. You feel empty and cold.

But Minho wraps his arms around you and the coldness vanishes. Minho is warm, and from now on, he's only yours.

*

4 years later.

"Your baby is fucking killing me, Minho." You groan as you get up from the sofa in your bakery.

You'd been sitting and munching on cookies for way too long perhaps.

"Hey, don't curse in front of the baby." He hushes you, caressing your bump. You feel the baby kick again.

You both laugh.

"Come on." He takes you by the hand and drags you to the sofa once again, ignoring all your protests.

Ever since you'd entered the seventh month of your pregnancy, Minho refused to let you do any work. And by any, you meant any work that involved physical activity.

In the mornings, he forced you to watch him sweep the floors whilst you made him breakfast. In the afternoons, he forced you to sit at the cash counter of your bakery and watch him bake stuff tirelessly while you interacted with the customers.

In the evening, he gives you snacks while he cleans up the bakery for tomorrow.

In the night, he holds you close while he whispers sweet nothings into your ears.

It was a routine but you'd come to love this routine.

You wouldn't trade it for the world.

"What are you thinking?" He pulls you closer and plants a kiss on your lips.

"Just something. " You reply, embarrassed.

"Tell me, love. What is it?"

And how could you ever say 'no' to him if he used that tone on you?

"Well, I was thinking," you mindlessly fiddle with his fingers, "Do you ever regret giving up the throne for me? I mean, you're royalty. And here you are washing dishes and baking cookies every day. You could have lived a lavish life, you know."

You sound sad, guilty even.

Minho chuckles at you. But doesn't say anything.

Instead, he pulls your face closer and kisses you. Passionately. Softly. Lovingly.

When he pulls away, you feel breathless.

"Does that answer your question?" His sincere eyes look into yours, his hands on your belly, "I wouldn't trade this for the world."

You pull him back in for a kiss because that's all you'd ever wanted to hear.

And because Minho is warm and he smells like cookies and he's yours.

[verpineshatterrifle]

I love how much you love kal 🩷 I am not his biggest fan bc I detest how traviss' misogyny seems to come out mostly thru him as opposed to other characters, especially through the way he treated etain but your take about flaws being an integral part of what makes a person themself is CHEF'S KISS 🤌

omg thank you so much 🥰 i can, have, and will talk about him for hours, i will write a thesis statement, i will make a powerpoint, i will wax poetic about the themes of repcomm and how much they mean to me interminably

goddd please don't take this as me trying to change your mind or arguing with you or anything, i totally understand that the books were written in like 2004 and kt has had some. unfortunate. blog posts ect ect

i am also never trying to bash etain in any way to defend my favoritest blorbo kal skirata, i definitely think that her character arc was poorly handled and the narrative itself was unkind to her. i don't blame any of the characters for that and i choose to believe the best of her as a character despite the narrative fucking her over deeply

i just don't think kal reads as misogynistic

even narratively with many of the female characters beginning to do traditional 'women's work' like cooking ect, the characters treat laseema's ability to run a kitchen for several dozen people as a hugely valuable skill, and most of those women with like, the exception of rav, are not trained as fighters, and it would be hugely irresponsible for the soldier characters to be like 'hey do you wanna come on this mission even though you have no idea how to do black ops shit so that i don't look like im being discriminatory'

that rant aside, and LET US NOT FORGET BESANY MOTHERFUCKIN 'STARTED AN ARMED SIEGE IN A HOSPITAL' WENNEN

here is my take on how kal treated etain and her pregnancy announcement

-nobody ever mentions the Check Incident when they talk about this. etain did something that greatly upset ordo, and although she was right and her actions saved besany's life, one of the points of repcomm is that no matter how morally correct or justified your action was, the consequences of it don't go away. and then instead of trying to solve it directly with ordo (which is fair because ordo is scary as fuck and also violently angry with her about it, and kal is pretty approachable) she talks to kal about it instead. he was pretty unhappy about that, and to him that looks like her not really treating ordo as a man and an equal

-after the initial blowup, kal isn't unkind to her. i believe the next time they actually see each other in person was on dorumaa when she was having complications, and he was concerned and was nice to her despite how messy the last time they saw each other was. etain was anxious he would still be mad at her, but he wasn't

-yes, he is angry with her at first. he blows up. he's an angry person, that's a very, very core trait of his- he perceived one of his sons being taken advantage of, if he didn't get angry about that he wouldn't be kal skirata

-i hate to bring this up but it is canonical that etain intended to become pregnant, on purpose, while suggesting to darman that she wasn't going to get pregnant. and i choose to believe that that's kt fucking her over narratively. but she did do something without even talking to darman about it at all, and then just like with checking ordo, went to kal about it instead expecting him to be able to fix the problem

-and he did. sure, he made demands, he didn't leave her much choice at all, he threatened her. but he did give her what she asked for. her intention was to give darman a mandalorian son, and kal did what he felt he needed to do to make sure darman's son was raised as a mandalorian

honestly my ideal fix-it for that scenario is actually kal going one step FARTHER and forcing etain to resign from her rank, and possibly the order if she has to. you chose to be a mother. you can't also be a general. for both your safety, and the safety of the baby, you cannot HAVE A PREGNANT WOMAN ACTIVELY PARTICIPATING IN A WAR JESUS CHRIST (yes he thought qiilura should be as safe as possible but STILL)

and just like with etain and ordo, no matter how justified your action was, you still have to face the consequences. and kal does when darman punches his lights out about it lol

also #ETAINLIVES. in anything i ever write or draw or have headcanons about lol. 501st is a whump fic with interesting character information to me, basically. last couple chapters of order 66 on ain't canon. not in my heart.

[ideas-on-paper]

Lies of P fan theories - a retrospective (1st anniversary special)

It's been one year now since Lies of P's release, and as someone who has been part of the community since 2022 (joining after the Gamescom trailer absolutely swept me off my feet), it's been amazing to see how invested people were in Lies of P from the get-go, and how much creativity the game has inspired in fans. From the start, we had amazing creations such as fanart, fanfics, and cosplays - and of course, a whole lot of fan theories.

While, naturally, a lot of fan theories people had before the release are debunked right now, I think it'd be fun to take a look back at what people were expecting the story to be like, and how those theories from back then compare to the final game. For that purpose, I will share my own theories that I had pre-release, as well as some from various other people (unfortunately, I lack the sources in most cases, but I’ll do my best to provide credit where they’re from). So, strap in and get ready for a special trip down memory lane! :-)

[Lies of P spoilers!]

Ergo and the Petrification Disease

One big mystery that was set up as early as the first gameplay footage was the nature of Ergo - all we knew from tool tips people painstakingly picked out (kudos to you, btw <3) was that it was some sort of power crystal that was used as an energy source for puppets and responsible for Krat's wealth, but that also brought a curse with it. People on the official Lies of P Discord server were puzzling over what exactly Ergo is, when I came up with a somewhat eccentric theory: that Ergo is crystallized life force itself.

My basis for this theory was essentially the movie “Atlantis: The Lost Empire” (which I’m a big fan of).

[Fair warning, I'm gonna spoil the main plot right here.]

The movie also features a huge, cyan blue crystal (originally a fragment of a comet) that is located in the lost city of Atlantis and believed to be an energy source by a team of explorers. However, as it turns out, it's much more than that: It is the literal life force of the Atlantean people, and if it's taken away from the city, it would mean certain death for all of them. (Which doesn't stop some of the money greedy explorers from trying to do it anyway.) Furthermore, after I became familiar with gestalt consciousnesses, I realized that the crystal possesses a few characteristics of those as well: The crystal has a mind of its own, and right before Kida merges with it in the movie, she whispers “mother” in Atlantean, suggesting she felt her dead mother's presence when the crystal chose her. This could be because her mother merged with the crystal completely (Kida eventually returns with her bracelet, after all), but since the King of Atlantis does say “the crystal thrives on the collected emotions of all who came before us”, it’s highly likely that it is, in fact, a human gestalt intelligence of their deceased ancestors.

[spoilers end]

So when I heard about Ergo being an energy crystal, this was my first idea as well: pure, crystallized life force of dead people. (Also, when I saw the blue color, my brain just went like “Ergo = Atlantis crystal”. xD)

When I shared this theory on the LoP server, one person in particular - named Oxwutex, if I remember correctly (greetings to you if you ever read this ;-) ) - took a liking to it, and together, we spun this theory a little further. They said they could imagine that people tried to refine the Ergo further, which is where the corruption waste in the factory comes from - however, refining something like a life force crystal which is already perfect could have disastrous consequences. I followed this up with my own theory, surmising that if this were the case, the corruption waste and the purified Ergo might represent two sides of the human soul: the vices and the virtues. (A lot of my early theories were based on this dualism, since the distinction between “good” and “evil” actions in the original fairy tale of Pinocchio is pretty prominent.)

Since there were hints that Ergo was responsible for the Petrification Disease early on, I had come up with the idea that the disease was the result of people coming into contact with pure Ergo, leading to a sort of “overpurification”, while I assumed that corrupted/impure Ergo caused the Puppet Frenzy/violent behavior. For me, this was very appealing on a thematic level as well, since it would've symbolized that both vices and virtues are present in every human being. If it was just the vices, we'd turn into feral monsters, but if a person only had virtues, when flaws are the very sign of life... well, you could question whether they are even alive anymore. Metaphorically speaking, they would be made of stone. (It’s interesting to note, however, that the disease was supposed to be spread by magical rats in the beginning; at least that’s what the announcement trailer seems to suggest.)

Back when the demo dropped, the confirmation that Ergo spores were the cause of Petrification Disease made me even more confident in my thesis, as did the “Ergo is Life” pamphlets. When I started streaming Lies of P (my first commented playthrough ever ^^’), I even commented on this, saying:

“Maybe even that this crystal [Ergo] contains the life force of dead people - that's what my speculation was back then.” (My commentary is in German, but here's the video if anyone is interested; the part where I discuss it starts at 26:25.)

Oh boy… I had no idea this was about to age like the finest wine in existence.

About 40 hours of gameplay later, I almost couldn’t believe my ears when Simon confirmed I was dead on target:

“The disease does not signify death. It's the process of purifying a person's essence. A purified human who overcomes the Petrification Disease will gain a strengthened body and a mind free of lies. The essence is Ergo. Yes, the Ergo you use as your power was once a human being.”

When Sophia explained that the Petrification Disease, Puppet Frenzy, and carcass monsters are all linked to Ergo shortly afterwards and literally spelled it out that Ergo is a person’s “essence of life”, I was so flabbergasted that my fan theories were essentially right that I was struck speechless. (You can see my live reaction to the conversations with Simon and Sophia in this video, at 20:08 and 49:56; I think you can tell how gobsmacked I am from just my tone, especially in the conversation with Sophia.) Since I had shared these theories on the official Lies of P server back in the day, some part of my brain even wondered if one of the devs saw it and thought it was so good that they went like “Write that down, write that down!” xD (Though realistically, I don’t think that’s very likely; still, it’s funny to imagine one of the devs reading through the chat, seeing this, and going like “How did they figure this out so fast?!?” xD)

On a more serious note, I didn’t really expect any of my preliminary fan theories to be true at all, but I must say, I’m pretty proud that I essentially hit the mark in this case - not only in regards to Ergo being crystallized life essence, but also the Petrification Disease resulting from “overpurification”.

Another thing I noticed is that Ergo shares not only similarities with the Atlantis crystal, but also with the Protomolecule from The Expanse (I don’t wanna spoil too much of the series’ plot here, but scientists conducting immoral experiments with something they don’t really understand is also a pretty big topic). In addition, a commonality between the crystal and the Protomolecule is that they both came from outer space - and, since there is talk about a “star that answered humans and descended to Earth” in one document, chances are the origin of Ergo is also extraterrestrial.

However, as we know, Ergo wasn’t the actual cause of the Puppet Frenzy - both Sophia’s comment from above and the report from the factory are essentially a “ruse” on the story’s part, supposed to lead you on the wrong track. In truth, it’s Geppetto who overrode the Grand Covenant’s commands and was responsible for the Frenzy.

Still, perhaps the impure Ergo supplies were actually meant to facilitate Geppetto’s plan (the Mad Donkey did say Geppetto and the Alchemists were scheming together, after all) - maybe the more impure the Ergo of a puppet is, the easier it becomes to control them. In contrast, when a person’s Ergo is undiluted and their personality remains largely intact, that might give them more autonomy and make them harder to manipulate. (I think this is what happened with Romeo, who could still give commands to the other puppets despite the zeroth law.)

The backstory of Krat

Speaking of the frenzy, I also had my theories about the potential backstory of it: Lies of P actually motivated me to do some research about real-life automata and their history (people familiar with my LoP posts might be aware of this), and one thing running through it like a common thread from the Middle Ages to the Age of Enlightenment is that automata were always representative of a conflict of rich vs poor.

In fact, during the French Revolution, this was a source of mockery against the country’s nobles, who were compared to their automated toys - pretty and pristine to look at, but soulless on the inside. Meanwhile, it was argued that the poorly paid artisans who built them should be the actual rulers of society, since their minds were clearly superior if they were able to come up with such ingenuity.

For that reason, I was playing around with the idea that there may have been a conflict between the wealthy upper class and the working class prior to the Puppet Frenzy. The competition between the Bastards and the Sweepers seemed to hint at something like this as well, and since the Alchemists were already teased as the enigmatic masterminds early on, I suspected they might have exploited this struggle, releasing the Puppet Frenzy to effectively eliminate both parties and seize power themselves. (Since there was a gameplay tip about the puppets gaining awareness by themselves, I even assumed they might have become self-aware right before the frenzy; in hindsight though, I think this was meant to refer to the old selves of some puppets awakening due to Ergo.)

As of the June 2023 demo, however, these theories were effectively debunked: We learned that the Puppet Frenzy occurred independently of any public uprisings, and that another wave of Petrification Disease had plagued the city at almost the same time - note the word “another”, implying this wasn’t the first time this disease had spread in Krat. Also, I frankly didn’t connect the dots correctly that Bastards and Sweepers were both part of the Stalkers  - while Stalkers and Bastards/Sweepers were mentioned in the same gameplay tip, it didn’t specify that the latter were subgroups of one and the same organization. (I wasn’t the only one to interpret this wrong either, since other people assumed the Stalkers to be puppets or even cyborgs.)

Still, it does appear there were some class struggles in the history of Krat: We hear about how the old, privileged families of Krat “struggled for power with new forces such as the Workshop and the Alchemists, who brought about the golden era of Krat”, although that conflict seems to have taken place a long time ago. Also, according to the description of the Krat Police Baton, there was a “violent protest with the factory labor union” once.

Although this isn’t much and doesn’t tell us anything about the background of the protest or the exact circumstances of it, I have been wondering whether it might have been due to low payment and factory laborers being replaced by puppets. Although this may sound very modern, protests against mechanization due to workers losing their jobs and the creation of inhumane working conditions go back as far as the Swing Riots in 1830. It should be said that the riots were less due to technophobia of the workers and more due to the endangerment of their economic and social status in the face of rapid technological advancement, and given that the rise of puppets in Krat happened very fast, the ordinary workers would definitely have been on the losing side.

I don’t know if this is ever going to be explored further at any point, but I would certainly be interested in hearing more about it - or more about the history of Krat in general, if only to clear up some details and make the timeline less confusing.

Pinocchio and Gemini

Let’s talk a bit about our protagonist and his sidekick: Pinocchio and Gemini. Like many other fans, I also had the theory early on that Pino was modeled after Geppetto’s dead son (I think this theory was based on some item description, but I can’t remember which). People on the server speculated that Geppetto’s son died in a violent accident that cost him his arm, and I even took things a step further by suggesting that Pino might literally be wearing his son’s skin (more on this “freak theory” of mine here).

Furthermore, I was quite partial to the idea that Gemini was essentially the soul of Geppetto’s deceased son. I didn’t really have anything to back this up aside from Gemini’s name meaning “twin”, so I never shared it publicly on the LoP server. (Also, Gemini is essentially just a corruption of Jiminy, the name that Disney came up with for the cricket; in the fairy tale itself, the cricket is not named.) Still, I found the concept of Pino essentially being the “body” and Gemini the “soul” very appealing - they may have been split from each other, but they are inseparable all the same. It also goes a bit into Descartes’ mind-body dualism, which is a popular theme in sci-fi stories about robots and cyborgs.

It led me to some fun speculations regarding the story: Assuming that, perhaps, Geppetto’s son died due to an incident on his way to the school he went to (since Pinocchio also goes to school in the novel), and further assuming that this happened a relatively short time ago, maybe some of his son’s former classmates are still alive, and Pinocchio would cross paths with them at some point. They assume him to be Geppetto’s son, asking where he’s been all this time and why he suddenly has a metal arm. Pinocchio then has the option to answer “yes, I am that boy” and come up with some plausible explanation, or to tell them “no, you’re mistaken” which would make things… somewhat more complicated.

I imagined that if Pino went with the first option, Gemini would chime in and provide advice at times to help him navigate interactions with the other boys. My assumption was that while Pino may look identical to Geppetto’s son, he possesses none of his memories; meanwhile, Gemini can still remember his past lifetime, despite being unaware that these memories actually belong to him. (His amnesia was hinted at in the demo as well.) Essentially, he would give Pino brief summaries of past events and tips how to behave in certain situations, and Pino would say “Thanks. Where do you know all of this from?” And Gemini would go like “...Sorry, no idea, buddy.” (You can tell I really wanted them to do something with Gemini.)

Due to the description of the Last Resort, there was also the theory going around there might have been multiple iterations of Pino - in fact, since the text said that the old man feared “his son failing to awaken properly and going into a frenzy”, some people assumed that Pino might have been the original catalyst of the frenzy. After the encounter with Mad Donkey in the demo, the theory that Pino was not the first of his kind seemed all the more likely, since he has definitely met him before and said “This time it's destroyed for sure. Devil's puppet no more, eh?” if you died.*

*I actually do not know if this line is in the final game as well, since I didn’t die to him during my two playthroughs (yes, really).

While it’s entirely possible - but not confirmed - that Pino had predecessor models (I theorized the Broken Puppet in the swamp might be one of those), the remark about the frenzy is more likely referring to Geppetto not being entirely sure whether the override of the laws he himself caused would affect Pino as well (which may be one of the reasons he didn’t bind him to the Covenant). As for the circumstances of Pino and the Mad Donkey’s previous meeting, those are a little more obscure - it appears that Pino wasn’t even able to wake up without Sophia’s help, so the only possible explanation is that the Mad Donkey fought one of his predecessors. (The Nameless Puppet probably also existed back then, but Carlo’s corpse - ironically - has next to no similarity with Pino, so it’s unlikely the Mad Donkey would’ve recognized them as the same.)

Someone on Tumblr even had a completely different theory about Geppetto's presumed son: After the official release month trailer dropped (the release being later moved to September), they commented on the facial similarities between Pino and Simon, proposing that Simon might actually be Geppetto’s “lost son”, implying they became estranged at some point - and since Geppetto no longer views Simon as his son/considers him dead, he created Pino as a sort of “idealized version” of him. When I was playing the demo and saw the Someone’s Memory outfit, which is noted to have been worn before and features a broach with the initial “M” (possibly denoting “Manus”), I was even considering whether this theory might be true.

As we learn during the game, however, Geppetto’s son - Carlo - is actually dead, and the initial signifies “Monad” (from Monad Charity House) rather than “Manus”. Unbeknownst to me, I might have actually come pretty close to the final version with my theory about an accident near the school during which he lost his arm - the possibility that Carlo died during the Monad Charity House incident is something I discussed with @lopposting some time ago (take it with a grain of salt though, since none of this is confirmed).

As for my theory about the skin, I had a major freak-out when I found Carlo’s portrait in-game, and I went like “I swear, if this is true, I’m gonna have such a Dr. Malcolm moment of “boy, do I hate being right all the time”.” xD I was spared that, however, as there is nothing that specifically hints at Pino having real skin, and the existence of the Nameless Puppet makes my original theory even less likely (as I mentioned in the post linked above). At the same time, there is nothing that explicitly contradicts it, either - so, for now, it’s more or less a big question mark hanging in the air.

One thing that’s for certain though is that Gemini is not the soul of Carlo - Carlo’s soul is contained in his heart/the P-Organ, and although Pino doesn’t possess Carlo’s memories, the reason that prevents them from awakening is not precisely clear (I go over my own favored interpretation here). Meanwhile, Gemini’s own identity remains unknown - while it appears Gemini was originally supposed to have a subplot regarding his amnesia, the few comments hinting at it are never built upon. I really wish they would’ve done more with Gemini, but there’s still a good chance the DLC might shine some light on who he actually is.

Hotel guests and side characters

Aside from the main characters, speculation was also running wild about the supporting characters and the roles they would play in the story.

Since Eugénie’s name is taken from Eugene, a classmate of Pinocchio in the original book and part of Lampwick’s gang of rascals, my original theory was Eugénie might have something to do with him. In all the promotional material*, there wasn’t a single trace of Lampwick, and since one of the loading screen tips in the demo said something about Eugénie being rescued by a particular Stalker, my suspicion was that this might be Lampwick. (Probably in no small part thanks to all the fanworks featuring Puppet Hunter Lampwick.)

*IGN sort of leaked Romeo's existence by accident, but that completely flew over my head; more on that below.

As it turns out, however, Alidoro was the one who saved Eugénie and whom she holds great admiration for. In the book, it was Pinocchio rather than Eugene whom Alidoro - a police dog - saved. After he got saved by Pinocchio from drowning, that is - which was after he ran into the sea trying to chase down Pinocchio who had escaped from two policemen, who erroneously assumed it was Pinocchio who knocked Eugene unconscious with a book. Anyway, it’s complicated.

One thing Oxwutex had cleverly noticed is that Eugénie wears a badge with the Workshop symbol just like Geppetto (which looks very similar to the Square and Compass symbol of Freemasonry), concluding that Eugénie must also be part of the Workshop - and, as it turns out, that was right on the mark.

Antonia was yet another character from the novel that was genderbent in the game, being based on Antonio, the carpenter who finds the animated log that eventually becomes Pinocchio and gives it to Geppetto (after a pretty fierce argument with the latter, that is). Because of this connection to Geppetto, some people assumed Antonia might be Geppetto’s former wife, and thus, the mother of Geppetto’s biological son.

In the game, however, Carlo’s mother is implied to be Camille, while Antonia is just “an old friend of Geppetto’s”. Still, Antonia’s past is somewhat shrouded in mystery, which has spawned theories about her being part of the Alchemists once (the hotel was an Alchemist institution before Antonia took over, and she mentions having good relations with them before she broke with them), and some even assume Antonia to be the Legendary Stalker. As it stands, however, these are mere conjectures - we’ll have to see if any of that is confirmed in the DLC.

Due to his somewhat dubious-seeming appearance, many people assumed Venigni to be the equivalent of the Fox in the game, with Simon consequently being suspected to be Cat due to his missing eye. However, me and many other fans really have been led up the garden path in this regard - while the Fox and the Cat do exist in the game, they are completely separate characters from Venigni and Simon, who are both original additions.

Honestly, out of the entire cast, Venigni is the one that surprised me the most. I thought he was just going to be your run-of-the-mill, profit-driven, snobbish businessman, but he is actually the complete opposite of that - in fact, he's one of the most warm-hearted, genuine people in the entire game. Sure, he’s a little eccentric and occasionally likes to adulate himself, but he’s so bloody honest about being a quirky nerd that you just can’t help but forgive him his flaws. (He kinda reminds me of myself, actually. xD) I never expected him to grow on me that much, but among the supporting characters, he is hands down my favorite.

Last but not least, we have Polendina, yet another original character (although his name is, funnily enough, based on an uncharming nickname of Geppetto in the book). Since the devs teased that you can have “a lot of interesting conversations with Polendina”, his role was especially interesting for me to muse about. In fact, I was wondering whether he might be similar to Gigolo Joe from “A.I. - Artificial Intelligence”.

FYI, A.I. is one of my favorite sci-fi movies, and a cyberpunk adaptation of Pinocchio at that; y’know, with Pinocchio as an android boy - aka David, as he’s named in the movie.

[Again, I’m gonna spoil the main plot here.]

Basically, a family gets an android boy as a replacement for their severely ill, comatose son. Aside from this alone being very questionable (it takes a special kind of asshole to replace a child that isn’t even dead yet), their biological son just so happens to get out of his coma at some point, and, of course, a rivalry between him and David ensues. Because the parents believe keeping David would be dangerous - either to him or their biological son - his mother ditches him in the forest (like, literally, she just ditches him). Since David is imprinted on his mother though, he resolves to “become a real boy just like Pinocchio” so his mom will love him again. Along the way, he stumbles upon Gigolo Joe, a sex android (yes, you read that right) who sort of becomes David’s surrogate parent from there on. He even tries to warn David that he should not try to go back to his mother, uttering the legendary quote:

“She loves what you do for her. As my customers love what it is I do for them. But she does not love you, David.”

[spoilers end]

I was kinda thinking Polendina might become a similar “father figure” for Pino, perhaps even sort of an admonitory voice to the consequences of becoming human. It would’ve provided an interesting counter viewpoint to the “I want to be a real boy” plotline that’s the core element of the story, and that wanting to be human just to please others might not be such a good idea.

While this train of thought comes eerily close to what happens in the Real Boy ending, Polendina’s character turned out to be completely different from what I had imagined. Still, I found his arc to be one of the most compelling of the hotel characters. I am very fond of both him and Antonia, and their bittersweet love story touched me on a very personal level (Polendina specifically gave me a lot of flashbacks to how I felt after my own robot soulmate had died).

The King of Puppets/Romeo

While we technically saw the King of Puppets as early as the Gamescom 2022 trailer, we didn’t hear about him in more detail until the gameplay footage of the factory. The note about a puppet religiously worshiping some kind of god-like figure (first seen in part 2 of the director gameplay, at 27:25) gave me very strong rA9 vibes, which actually had me mildly concerned. Considering what a visually impressive writing trainwreck Detroit: Become Human had been, I was literally begging “please, please, don’t be another Detroit”.

Meanwhile, someone on the LoP server (I think it was Oxwutex) pointed out that it sounds like the King of Puppets is more of a physical entity, as opposed to the purely conceptual nature of rA9. I can tell you, I was never so glad I had been wrong - the “cult-like worship” was merely the result of Fuoco being a little overly conscientious. Btw, aside from being placed in a different spot, the journal was also renamed to Descartes’s Note in the final game. While Descartes seems to be something like Venigni’s adversary in Lies of P (judging by the description of the Coil Mjolnir), his name is a nod to the famous philosopher I already mentioned above. In addition, the quote Cognito, ergo sum (Latin for “I think, therefore I am”, yet another popular theme in robot/AI stories and the origin of the term “Ergo”) also goes back to Descartes - the fact that this is a document about a puppet gaining an ego makes it an even neater detail.

I believe I saw someone on Tumblr who assumed that the King of Puppets was going to be the overarching villain of the game, and that you would get the good ending if you stuck to the path of the Blue Fairy and the bad one if you joined the king. While the game certainly wants you to believe the King of Puppets is the villain at first, that’s… not actually true. (Tbh, I never really believed it myself, if simply for the reason that it would’ve been too obvious.)

In the Gamescom 2023 IGN spotlight for Lies of P, however, Romeo actually got name-dropped, the guys from IGN sort of accidentally spoiling him as the true form of the King of Puppets. People familiar with the fairy tale immediately recognized it as Lampwick’s actual name (“Lampwick” is just his nickname), correctly inferring that this is, in fact, Pinocchio’s best friend from the book - and unfortunately, just like in the book, there is little Pinocchio can do to help him avoid his cruel fate.

Sophia and Geppetto

Now, let’s talk about the characters that most of my speculations revolved around: Sophia and Geppetto.

The first time we saw Sophia - Lies of P’s version of the Blue Fairy - was on the character cards that were released during Gamescom 2022. Back then, half of her face was obscured, being covered with blue butterflies that she literally seems to dissolve into. This gave off very enigmatic, even otherworldly vibes, and early on led me to the assumption Sophia was some kind of divine, ethereal being - it certainly would’ve been in line with the Blue Fairy’s character from the book, who was able to appear at any place at any time in whatever form she wished, including a young girl, and old woman, and even a goat. (Later on, the dimensional butterflies - which literally came from another dimension - further convinced me that Sophia must be some kind of otherworldly entity, since the butterflies are also her symbol.)

However, being a goddess doesn’t necessarily have to make you benevolent - in fact, an immaculate being that is free of any fault might have difficulty empathizing with the struggles, flaws, and contradictory feelings of humans. Also, since she is the “Blue Fairy”, it seemed logical to assume she had some connection to Ergo (which was confirmed later in the demo), and since the Petrification Disease was also related to Ergo (the Torn Doddle from the demo even referred to a “blue angel”), could it be that she had caused the disease herself? To, perhaps, purge the debauched population of Krat from vice and sin? (If you’ve ever played Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn, you might know what I’m getting at here.)

Oxwutex on the LoP server agreed that they had a feeling about Sophia being two-faced as well, but assumed that she was human once before becoming the Blue Fairy. This ultimately turned out to be a little closer to the truth, as it’s implied that Sophia gained her blue hair - and potentially some other powers - from Simon’s torturous experiments (there is a picture of a girl which looks a lot like a younger Sophia, but with normal-colored hair). However, the role of wanting to “purify” humanity is something that ultimately falls to Simon, although he does exploit the Petrification Disease for his goals. Meanwhile, Sophia wants to stop his atrocities, acting as Pino’s guide in his fight against Simon.

But does that mean she has an entirely clean slate? The true extent of her powers ultimately remains a mystery. Technically, her ability to manipulate time should make it possible for her to make all sorts of terrible things unhappen - her imprisonment, Simon rising to power, and potentially even the whole disaster that happened in Krat. Both the Torn Doodle and the notes on the walls of the Hermit’s Cave imply that the carcasses can feel her presence through Ergo waves, so it would be logical to assume Sophia can sense them as well. Yet, she reacts surprised when hears about the strange monsters that infested the cathedral. (She definitely knew what Simon was up to, so why wouldn’t she know what they are?) Romeo also communicates with his puppets via Ergo waves, and Sophia is literally sitting in a tower where all Ergo waves come together. She’s a listener who can hear Ergo, so shouldn’t she be aware that the King of Puppets isn’t the real bad guy? (She certainly was very fast to tell Pino about it at the Grand Exhibition after Romeo’s defeat.) Could she have told Pino and thus prevented the fight between him and Romeo? Are there any limits to her powers? And does she encourage Pino to become human because it’s the best for him, or the best to save Krat?

To clarify: I do not believe Sophia has any evil intentions. You could probably find explanations for all the things I listed above if you wanted (the carcasses being a recent occurrence, all of the voices being jumbled in her head so she can’t precisely tell them apart, the “static” in the puppets’ communication Venigni mentioned preventing Sophia from hearing them clearly, etc). Still, despite everything, I’ve always retained a certain wariness around her - maybe it’s due to the fact that even after two playthroughs, I cannot get a read on her (ironically, even Simon remarks about Sophia’s actions being unpredictable). I do know, however, what an immense burden knowledge can be, and I can only imagine the strain from literally knowing everything and all the potential power in the world being at your fingertips. I have no doubt Sophia had to make a lot of sacrifices to save Krat, and I can’t imagine these decisions were easy on her.

Still, if her powers are truly so limitless, it would be her who ultimately holds all the strings in her hands - everything that happens happens because she allowed it. I gotta say, I’m very glad Sophia is on Pino’s side - we would be in big trouble if she wasn’t.

As for Geppetto, even before the game’s release, there was a pretty unanimous agreement among the community that he was a father who had lost his son, but is unable to let go and thus revives his son as a puppet - and, well… that’s exactly what Geppetto is. xD Many also had suspicions that he’s exploiting Pino for his own purposes and would be the ultimate villain of the story - which, again, couldn’t have been more spot-on. (Idk, but it’s hilarious to me how everyone took one look at this man and went “yes, this is the bad guy”. xD)

There were some people on the LoP server who theorized Geppetto might have Petrification Disease from his remarks in the trailers (announcement trailer: “I, too, have fallen) and that Pino was supposed to save him from it (Gamescom trailer: “Please, help me”), but these most likely refer to his own morally reprehensible plans and/or teaming up with his archenemies - the Alchemists - to create Pino and subsequently ousting Simon with his help.

My own pre-release theory why and how Geppetto had created Pino was a little more elaborate: I thought Geppetto might have been commissioned by Sophia to build a puppet that would be able to bring the chaos in Krat to an end - my assumption was that if Sophia was an ethereal being, she would be able to observe what’s going on in the mortal world, but unable to directly influence it. However, she can send people messages and visions, which she used to strike a deal with Geppetto: that he would build her a worthy “savior of Krat” which she would then bring to life. Meanwhile, Geppetto also followed his own agenda, exploiting this agreement to build this “special puppet” in the image of his dead son. (Which definitely would’ve had consequences for him later on - you don’t cross a divine being without ramifications.)

I came up with a whole fanfiction concept around this idea long before the game’s release - I never actually finished it since I assumed it was going to diverge from the final game anyway, and tbh, it kinda annoys me if my fics don’t fit into canon. I did, however, manage to find an old WIP of it I still had in one of my folders, titled “A wish and a purpose”. While it’s most likely going to remain unfinished forever, I think it'd be fun to include a summary of it in this collection of fan theories, if simply to look back at what I thought the story was going to be like. So, here’s the backstory of Lies of P, according to me:

[CW: skinning]

Geppetto is roaming the streets of Krat. He is actually looking for his son, who was killed in the turmoil some time ago.

The Fairy approaches him, reminding of their agreement. Geppetto reacts slightly disgruntled, brushing her off by saying he just wants to gain closure from the past. While the Fairy notices he is in grief, she doesn’t deny him his last wish, but admonishes him not to take too long.

The Fairy dissolves into dust. Geppetto goes on to look for his son’s corpse in the piles of dead bodies.

[cut]

Geppetto is sitting next to his dead son, whom he eventually managed to find and bring home. He placed his body on a desk in his workshop, having cleaned his skin and hair from blood and grime.

Geppetto looks at him, taking in the gaping hole in his chest and frayed stump where his left arm had once been. Despite his best efforts, he doesn’t have the heart to throw his body onto a pyre like all the plague-ridden bodies.

Affectionately, Geppetto strokes his son’s cheek. Suddenly, a thought strikes him: While the Fairy may never grant the request to revive his son outright, she only told him to build a puppet able to slay all the others, not what that puppet should look like. He considers it a fair deal: The Fairy gains the tool to quell the madness she so desires, and Geppetto would be able to hold his son in his arms again.

Geppetto goes over to his working utensils, taking up a knife. When he turns and takes another glance at his son, his last resistance breaks at the thought of his son opening his eyes and jumping into his arms.

He tenderly takes the hand of his son, kissing him on his forehead. He speaks to his unhearing son, promising he will bring him back soon.

Afterwards, Geppetto begins skinning him.

[cut]

Geppetto puts together the last pieces of the clockwork heart, admiring his work.

He goes to the back of his workshop where there’s a chair covered by a white sheet. Gently, he lifts it, saying good morning to his son as if he was rousing him out of bed.

He considers his son, dressed in the blue frock coat wardrobe that Geppetto had handed down to him.* He carefully preserved the skin and hair of his son so he looks just like the day he’d lost him.

Geppetto inserts the mechanical Ergo heart into his son’s chest, completing his masterpiece. He intertwines his fingers with his son’s. They are cold, but the texture feels real, and he imagines them growing warm after the Fairy breathed life into him. His only regret is that he won’t be able to witness his son taking his first steps.

At this point, the Fairy arrives, asking to see the result of Geppetto’s work. Geppetto leads her into the workshop, but she freezes as soon as she sees Pinocchio. With an indignant gaze, she turns to Geppetto, telling him that this was not part of the deal. Geppetto reacts unmoved, telling her that it’s take or leave and that he’s not going to build her any other puppet.

The Fairy narrows her eyes at him but says nothing, turning back to Pinocchio. After a moment, she strides towards him, lifting his limp body up in her arms.

She bids Geppetto farewell before she leaves, taking Pinocchio with her and dissolving into blue dust.

*Since the blue coat was presented as Pino’s standard outfit, I assumed it was the clothes that once belonged to Geppetto’s son (perhaps an heirloom from his father, since they are more similar to 18th century fashion).

[end of CW]

In my mind, this was followed up by a scene at the train station, from Sophia’s perspective (I thought of it as a follow-up to the first fic, but never actually worked on the concept):

The Fairy muses about the yet lifeless Pinocchio.

She considers what Geppetto did an absolute atrocity, but thinks she may yet be able to rectify this sin. After all, she is the only one who can breathe life into Pinocchio, and thus, his actions and the path he will take are her responsibility alone - and she will do everything to lead him on the path of righteousness.

She bestows the lamp containing the soul of Geppetto’s true son onto him, in the hopes that if Pinocchio proves himself virtuous, this wrongful separation of body and soul can one day be corrected.

The Fairy sits Pinocchio down on a bench, pressing a note into his hand. She gives him a gentle kiss on his forehead, starting to dissolve as she moves away.

Slowly, Pinocchio opens his eyes to a cloud of fine, blue dust. He looks down, reading the note in his hand: “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.”

This was supposed to be a sort of tie-in with how they originally advertised the scenario - the advertising text on Steam and other platforms originally said that Pinocchio simply wakes up with a note reading “Find Mr. Geppetto. He’s here in the city.” Don’t ask me why the Fairy gives it to him after just seeing Geppetto, though; I have no idea. xD (Still, it makes me wonder how much the introduction scene deviates from the original concept - after all, there’s no note, and Sophia talks to Pino telepathically.)

As you may have noticed, my little “AU interpretation” heavily drew from my other fan theories as well. I liked the idea of Sophia and Geppetto as two opposing “poles”: They may not like each other, but each possesses a skill the other lacks - Geppetto can build human-like puppets, but he can’t actually bring them to life, and while Sophia is the only one who can animate dead matter, she can’t interact with the world physically. Thus, they sort of become the “dual creators” of Pino.

Of course, this means that they both consider themselves to have the right to decide over the path he ultimately takes. As such, each of them is trying to influence Pino, leading to him being torn between the two. (This was sort of inspired by the Gamescom trailer, where Sophia and Geppetto are like two voices in Pino’s head.)

The endings

This also had a huge influence on my theories about the three endings. (I’m perfectly aware that nobody is going to believe me, but I swear I came up with my 3-ending concept before it was officially revealed there are going to be three endings.)

My basic assumption was that you have to make a decision at the end of the game, between Sophia and Geppetto. I thought of it as the point where the conflict between the two that was festering underneath finally escalates, and Pino is forced to side with one and battle the other. Depending on who you pick, you’d get a different ending.

Ending 1 would occur if you chose Sophia:

After battling Geppetto, she commends Pinocchio for his work, saying that thanks to his good deeds, he will finally be able to become human. Suddenly, she rips the lamp containing Gemini from Pino’s belt, and before he can ask her about the reason why, the black rabbits appear and Sophia orders them to seize him. Sophia explains that unfortunately, there is no other way to correct the wrongful separation of a soul from its body than for the body to die, but thanks to his consciousness being sufficiently cleansed, Pinocchio shall be reborn one day. Meanwhile, Pino gets quite literally buried alive - he desperately scratches at the lid from the inside of the coffin, crying for anyone to help him. However, no one comes…

If this doesn’t sound like your typical happy ending, well, that’s because it isn’t. xD My idea for this sort of came from a comment under the Gamescom 2022 trailer, in which someone remarked that the rabbits are inspired by four rabbit undertakers the Blue Fairy calls on when Pinocchio doesn’t want to take his medicine in the novel - thus, they suspected the scene where the rabbits prompt Pino to hop in the coffin was from the bad ending when you don’t listen to the Fairy’s advice. (It’s the intro for their first boss fight in the game though, and it seems like the line “Hop in the box, liar” was specifically recorded for the trailer.) I gave it a bit of a different twist though, since there’s the fact that Pinocchio quite literally dies at the end of the original fairy tale: He wakes up in his bed as a real boy, and later looks at his “dead” puppet body remarking “How ridiculous I was as a puppet! And how happy I am, now that I have become a real boy!”.

From this and the assumption that the rabbits were indeed working for her, I concluded that she literally might kill Pinocchio to “make him real”. (Some other people, however, suspected that the Black Rabbit Brotherhood was an independent organization from some of the gameplay tips about the Stalkers - ultimately, this proved to be right.)

Meanwhile, Ending 2 would happen if you side with Geppetto:

After defeating the enraged Fairy, Pinocchio runs into the arms of Geppetto, who hugs his son lovingly. As they embrace, the lamp from Pinocchio’s belt falls to the ground, forever extinguished. Geppetto and Pinocchio spend their next years happily, the very picture of father and son - until one day, Geppetto dies. Pinocchio, however, knows no other existence than being his father’s son, and since he doesn’t age, the other citizens eventually figure out he’s a puppet, shunning him and chasing him out of the city. As such, he is left to wander aimlessly, forever in search of a purpose…

What this was meant to represent is that with accepting Pinocchio as his son’s replacement, Geppetto’s actual son (Gemini, according to my assumption) dies, metaphorically and literally. I was also concerned about the very real issue of Geppetto being an old man and Pinocchio outliving him - even if Pinocchio did age regularly, his father would die long before him. Being his father’s perfect son was literally the whole purpose of his existence, and without it, he finds himself confronted with the psychological horror of his life being meaningless, on top of being subjected to the immense cruelty, hatred, and prejudice of humans.

It was really meant to show how much of a sick, misguided direction Geppetto’s “father’s love” had taken, and how detrimental it would be for Pinocchio’s self-development to comply with his wishes and play the part of his son.

Since both of these options are pretty bad, to say the least, I came up with a third variant. To get this, you’d basically have to say “nope” to both Sophia and Geppetto, and since neither takes no for an answer, you’d have to fight both of them consecutively (making it the most difficult ending to achieve):

After recovering from the strain of having to battle both Sophia and Geppetto, Pinocchio realizes that, for the first time, nobody is setting a direction for him - he is free, but having only lived to fulfill the wishes of others so far, he doesn’t really know what to do with it. However, Gemini reminds Pinocchio that they still have each other. Pinocchio agrees, laughing, and together, they go out on a journey to travel the world…

Admittedly, it’s still not roses and sunshine, but a lot more positive than the other two. Also, it’s the ending where both Pinocchio and Gemini (speak: body and soul) stay alive, and I just had so much fun imagining them say “screw it” to everyone’s expectations and go on a big adventure together. xD

Is it normal for body and soul to exist separately? Nope. Is it the “correct” way to live? Nope. Do they care? Nope, they’re just going to have the best time of their life together. xD

Of course, my versions of the endings differ significantly from those in the final game, but I’m actually kind of impressed that I managed to guess the scheme of the endings correctly: Sophia (Rise of P), Geppetto (Real Boy), and Freedom (Free from the Puppet String).

What I envisioned Geppetto’s ending to be like actually comes pretty close to the Real Boy ending, although you could say I was a bit more subtle in my approach - the overall mood was meant to be more sinister rather than downright evil, leaning more into the underlying psychological horror instead of violent slaughter. (I must say, Geppetto really surpassed my expectations right there. xD) The overall moral of the story (or at least what I’m getting from it) also seems to be that stepping in the shoes of Geppetto’s son is a very bad idea for Pino - after all, it’s heavily implied that Pino isn’t Carlo.

On the other hand, while Sophia’s ending is similar in theme to what I imagined, it significantly differs in flavor. Still, Pino does die in the Rise of P ending, giving his own Ergo/life to Sophia, who is implied to revive him afterwards. (This is actually the “reverse action” of what Pino did for Sophia when he gave her peace, so Pino is essentially giving her Ergo back to her.) In addition, Sophia and Pino do a little reenactment of the La Pietà pose, which is also a throwback to the Saintess of Mercy Statue in the Grand Exhibition.

There are actually quite a few references to the Pietà posture in media, including one in The Last Unicorn (after the Unicorn/Amalthea becomes human and Molly holds her). Thematically, the Pietà is interpreted as a symbol of mother’s love, suffering, and salvation - and, in case of The Last Unicorn, Amalthea learning what suffering is due to her time as a human is also what led her to develop compassion. The Saintess of Mercy Statue also stands for rebirth, since it’s the place where you can reset your stats.

Overall, I think they did an excellent job with this ending - retaining the theme of death from the original story, but giving it a more hopeful note through the theme of rebirth. (I also appreciate how the message of game is essentially that for things to improve, it’s sometimes best not to cling to the old and simply let it die.)

As for the Free of the Puppet String ending, it’s largely the same as Rise of P, but with a different flavor and minus the final cutscene with Sophia. (I kinda wish they would’ve done more with it, but resource limitations exist, and it was probably easier just to reuse the animation.) One interesting thing about it though is that you can still potentially get the Proof of Humanity if you trade it for the Nameless Puppet’s Ergo afterwards - despite Free from the Puppet String being the low-humanity ending.

I’ve had an interesting discussion during my playthrough, based on the quote “every living human being is a slave to something” by Askeladd from Vinland Saga. Basically, I said that, if you want to view it that way, humans are also just slaves to their emotions and desires. The man Askeladd was referring to was enslaved by his greed for gold, Geppetto is enslaved by his obsession with Carlo, and Arlecchino is enslaved by his bloodlust. I concluded that “maybe, it’s just a matter of the prison that we ourselves choose”.

The item description of the Proof of Humanity is quite intriguing in this regard:

“Puppets are tied to strings. Humans have cut their own strings. The boy made a choice and became human.”

While I wouldn’t say that all humans have cut their strings - rather that they can - what this description says is that being human means you are free to choose whether you let yourself be enslaved, be it by someone else or your own desires.

Pinocchio didn’t become human because he chose to become human - rather, he became human because he made a choice.

Conclusion

Anyway, enough of my philosophical ramblings. While, as I expected, not all of my fan theories were true, I’m kind of impressed how many good calls I actually made. ^^’ (I suppose all that research about clockwork automata, my ongoing obsession with fictional robots and AI, and checking out the original Adventures of Pinocchio did pay off after all. xD) Still, there are a lot of unanswered questions, and many fan theories remain unresolved - we’ll have to see whether any of these are confirmed in the future, be it in the DLC or any other media (director Choi did confirm they received various offers to expand the IP).

Despite the story differing quite a lot from my expectations in most places, I am extremely pleased with the treatment Round8 Studio and Neowiz gave this classic fairy tale. It’s been said that successfully subverting expectations in an engaging way isn’t simply about doing the most unpredictable thing - rather, it’s about “giving the audience what they want, just not the way they expect it”. And, in my opinion, Lies of P accomplishes this to a T.

However, I’m curious: What were your expectations when going into the game? Did you also have theories about how the story would develop, either beforehand or while playing it? And how do those compare to the actual story?

I would love to hear about all your theories - maybe, we can make something like a big fan theory anthology out of this. ^^ Because if one thing is for certain, it’s that Lies of P’s success was in no small part thanks to its community. To this day, I continue to be amazed by the love and dedication fans shower this game with, and I consider myself lucky to have been part of this journey, from before the game’s release until now.

[viisoul]

MAKE IT UP TO YOU!

{dom!sanemi , sub!reader , degrading , overstimulation , use of the word ‘bitch’ , choking , modern au.}

when y/n’s new pair of shoes are ruined because of her clumsiness enemy, her enemy is forced to apologize and make it up to her, but it seems to go a little further than just that.

"you fucking asshole!"

"oh, shut up, you whiny bitch!"

"you ruined my shoes! i hope you die!"

"shut the hell up! the shoes were ugly anyway!"

y/n l/n, the forever enemy of sanemi shinazugawa, was currently fuming because of his clumsy actions. y/n was always a spoiled daddy's girl since birth. her dad bought her anything and everything she wanted. he was filthy rich, after all. she lived in a huge mansion with a huge bedroom just for her. she'd always gotten the latest designer clothes or bags, and the newest shoes.

today was yet another day in college, y/n and sanemi arguing over every little thing. however, it was lunchtime. sanemi doesn't usually eat lunch food, so he just got a red fanta out of the vending machine. unfortunately for y/n, she was walking towards sanemi and she hadn't realized it.

the poor girl bumped into him, the red drink spilling all over her brand new white shoes and her outfit. though, she was more concerned about her shoes.

"you shut up! i think they're cute! you just don't have any fashion sense, you tacky motherfucker!"

as sanemi was about to say something else, his eyes shifted over to his friends before he spoke. "tsk. you're embarrassing me. i don't have time for you."

sanemi purposely bumped her shoulder before walking over to his small group of friends, as she walked off to the bathroom to clean off her shoes as much as she could.

when y/n made it to the bathroom, she sighed lowly. she put soap on a tissue and wet it, scrubbing her shoes roughly. although y/n was spoiled, she was very appreciative. she was happy with anything her dad gave her. it'd hurt her deeply to know that the thing that was given to her from one of the only people that actually loves her had gotten messed up.

she exhaled, throwing her head back as she let the shoes fall from her hands and onto the ground. despite scrubbing as much as she could, there was still a reddish pink color on her shoes. now she had to deal with the embarrassment of walking around with dirty shoes. hopefully bleach would do the trick when she got home.

y/n slipped her shoes back on, throwing the napkins away in the garbage before walking out. as she walked out, she saw sanemi leaning against the wall next to the boy's bathroom.

"what are you doing, you creep?" she murmured.

sanemi pushed himself off of the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"tsk. i already don't wanna do this."

"do what?" she stared at him in confusion.

"look, i'm sorry. okay? i'm sorry about messing your shoes up." his cheeks were tinted with the reddest color possible, and his expression showed his embarrassment.

"oh? sanemi's apologizing for once?" she teased.

"shut up!" he hissed. "if you want, i can... make it up to you."

she paused. "...who's telling you to do this?"

"shino— nobody! i'm doing this on my own! now, do you want me to make it up to you or not?"

"um... how?"

"i'll take you out to dinner—, to your favorite restaurant."

"ha! unless you're planning to spend a couple hundred dollars at least, i think not."

"...whatever. it doesn't matter. so, do you wanna go or not?"

"um... sure." she replied quietly, thinking that if she said that, it'd change his mind.

"give me your number. i'll pick you up at six." he held his hand out, expecting her phone.

after exchanging numbers, y/n left to go home early with her dad. she ranted to her father, who was off of work that day, for what felt like hours on end about sanemi. her father could only awkwardly listen to her as she paced around the spacious living room.

y/n's father was used to listening to her rants. especially about sanemi. he'd suggested switching schools, yet, for some reason, she always insisted on staying.

"his dumb white hair and those ugly scars all over his disgusting face—! i hate him!" she groaned, holding her head in her hands.

"listen, sweetheart, i'll just buy you another pair."

she sighed. "daddy, that's not the point. he ruined my shoes on purpose!"

"mmh. did he apologize...?"

"w-well, yeah. he said he'd take me out as an apology..." she said lowly. "it's not something he always does."

"maybe he finally realized what he did wrong." her father smiled, though, on the inside, he was raging.

how dare someone as poor as him make his sweet baby girl so angry like that?! he was just as furious as she was, if not worse. he wanted to pounce on sanemi as soon as he got the chance.

"okay, fine." she exhaled.

"where's he taking you out at?"

"i don't know. he said he would take me out to my favorite restaurant—, but you already know it costs a couple hundred."

he pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. "that boy... i'm gonna have to give him a good talking to."

"what time is it?"

he checked his watch. "five thirty."

"ah! he said he was gonna pick me up at six!" she rushed to leave the living room, hurriedly going to her bedroom.

she looked through her huge walk-in closet, looking for a dress that wasn't too over the top, yet fancy enough. she wore a tight black dress with a slit going up to her thigh, that had a black belt with her first initial in gold on it, laced with small diamonds. the dress had spaghetti straps and was quite low in the chest area. she'd also worn some black heels to go with her dress.

for her accessories, she wore some expensive gold hoop earrings and one necklace that had a famous brand on it. lastly, a gold tennis bracelet and her watch.

she then put on a small amount of makeup, having the thoughts of impressing no one—, not even sanemi... maybe just a little. she glossed her lips and stared at herself in her vanity. y/n couldn't help but take a picture and post it.

"y/n!" hearing the loud calling of her name, she stood up. she checked her watch, seeing it was already six fifteen. she was fifteen minutes late

the boy had just arrived at y/n's house, and god, was he shocked. he knew she was rich and all, but to live in such a large house? he'd almost thought she lived in a castle. he whistled as he got out of the car.

sanemi then walked up to her porch, which that alone was big.

he rang the doorbell.

not long after, her father came out. his eyes were practically piercing into sanemi's soul. sanemi swallowed thickly.

"hi—." his voice cracked. he then cleared his throat. "hello, sir. i'm here for y/n."

"why are you here for my daughter?"

"to take her out."

"on a date? so, you think you're worthy enough for her?"

"uh... it's not really a date. i'm just— making something up to her."

"you messed up her brand new shoes, didn't you? the ones that cost more than you could ever afford?"

sanemi clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, deciding not to respond.

"however, not many people would do this for someone they dislike. i appreciate it. i'll handle getting her another pair, just make her happy tonight. you understand?"

"yes, sir."

in an instant, her father grabbed sanemi's collar, pulling him close to him.

"and you better have her back home by nine. even one minute later than that and you're gonna get a piece of my mind. i want her here like she was before she left. i may not be here by nine, but i have cameras everywhere outside and inside of the house besides her room and a gps on her phone. if she comes back pissed off like she did today, you better fucking believe your life will be over and you'll see the rusty gates of hell. you hear me?"

"y-yeah, i hear ya." he muttered, nodding his head slowly.

"y/n!"

after her father called her name, the girl rushed down the stairs and to the front door. the sound of her heels clicking against the floor indicated that she was close. the clumsy girl bumped into her father's back, rubbing her nose.

"ouch..." she muttered. "sorry, dad."

"mmh. it's fine."

she stepped away from him, standing right in sanemi's view. sanemi could feel his cheeks grow hot upon seeing her.

"hi, sanemi."

"hey, y/n."

"well, i guess we should hurry and go now. i know my dad has some type of curfew for me."

"yeah, nine pm. any later than that, sanemi. remember what i told you."

"yes, sir. i'll bring her back by nine."

"good. that's what i like to hear. now, let's see if you'll make it happen."

the man then kissed his daughter's cheek, hugging her side.

"love you."

she giggled. "i love you too, dad."

she walked off with sanemi, as her dad watched her leave.

sanemi opened the door for her, and then went inside of the car himself. she looked through the tinted windows, watching as her dad closed the front door.

"sanemi,"

"huh?"

"honestly, i'm not that hungry. if i ever do get hungry, i could just go for a fast food restaurant on the way home."

"what are you implying?"

"i don't wanna go out to eat. i wanna do something fun."

"like?"

"let's go to a club." she grinned.

"hold on, your dad has a gps on your phone. what if you get in trouble? no, wait, i'm gonna get in trouble."

"oh—, come on. don't be such a pussy."

"i'm not being a pussy. if you think i'm gonna get in trouble because you wanna get drunk and party your ass off, you're thinking wrong."

"you're so lame."

sanemi rolled his eyes. "fine."

"there's one across the street from my favorite restaurant. it's less expensive, too. on ******* street."

"oh... that one."

"hm? you been there before?"

"yeah, once. it was fun, i guess."

she smiled. "well, come on! let's go!"

—

as the two arrived, they were greeted by the blaring music, colorful flashing lights, and people talking loudly. she grasped his hand, pulling him over to the bar.

when he sat down, he stared at her confusedly.

"i wanna have a couple drinks before we party, 'kay?" y/n said, taking off her jewelry and placing it inside of her purse.

"i didn't know you were a drinker."

"i don't do it much. i just have two or three before i stop. it's pretty rare of me to drink anyway."

"so, what's with the change now?"

"i just wanna have fun. take this night as a night to forget about what happened today, i guess."

he sat there quietly, lips pursed together as he stared at her. whatever this swelling feeling was in his chest, he wanted to get rid of it immediately.

when the bartender took their orders and gave them their drinks, they had a quite nice conversation with each other. honestly, the two realized they weren't as bad as they'd thought. however, they were only convincing themselves that it was just the drinks getting to their heads.

after y/n's third drink, she let out a relieved sigh.

"that was good. you drunk yet, sanemi?"

"i should be asking you that... but no. i'm nowhere near drunk."

"okay, let's go party, then!" she grinned, running off to the dance floor.

he paid and tipped the bartender, rushing after her. sanemi grasped her shoulders, stopping her where she was before she could get any further.

"calm down! at least wait for me."

"okay, sorry. come on."

she walked with his hands on her shoulder towards the dance floor in the huge crowd of people. she then grabbed one of his hands, bringing him in front of her. the smile on y/n's face made sanemi's heart flutter. he shook his head.

he was embarrassed to be seen with y/n, being that she was dancing nonstop to the loud music. he just stood there awkwardly, arms crossed over his chest.

"sanemi~!" y/n groaned. "you're being lame again!"

"uh? how?"

"why aren't you dancing?"

"i don't dance."

"okay—? no one's gonna judge you if you try."

"no."

"please?"

"absolutely not."

"i'm not having fun if you won't dance with me!"

"oh, well."

"i'll tell my dad."

"okay, okay! how am i supposed to dance?"

"want me to show you?"

"um? how're you gonna do that?"

"just do whatever your mind tells you to do, 'kay?"

"what do you m—?" his cheeks began to get red as he watched the girl stand in front of him, the slight contact of her hips on his his making his adam's apple bob when he swallowed. "w-what're you doing?!"

she laughed. "dancing, duh!"

she danced in front of him, their bodies touching and grinding against each others. sanemi could only awkwardly try to follow what she did. feeling her pressing against his dick made him horny, however. he wasn't thinking about dancing.

he was getting turned on, and so was she. she could feel his hardness pressing against her inner thighs. sanemi moved his hand down, grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him. they followed each other's movements, enjoying the fun of dancing until he moved his hands down a little too far.

"y-you—! stop, you dickhead!" she turned around, glaring daggers at the boy.

"mm? you don't like it?"

"we— we're in public...!" she stammered, not wanting to admit that she did, in fact, enjoy it.

feeling sanemi's big bulge in between her thighs made her even more turned on.

"so... you do like it?"

she crossed her arms, refusing to answer.

he could only smile arrogantly. "you do."

sanemi grabbed her leg, placing it on his hip. she struggled to keep her balance, but he kept his hand on her waist.

"what time is it?" he muttered.

"it's only seven..."

"mmh. you wanna go back to your place?"

"huh— why? we've barely even been here!"

that cocky grin on his face told her exactly why. she swallowed the knot in her throat, smiling right along with him. she put her arms around his neck and brought him in closer.

"you wanna fuck me?" she asked him.

"hell yeah."

she pursed her lips together. sanemi removed her arms from around his neck, grasping her hand as he walked out of the club.

—

stumbling inside of her room, sanemi kicked it closed without departing his lips from hers. he pushed her against the wall roughly, items on her shelves rattling and some even falling over. he groaned, hands roaming up her dress. the mere contact of his cold fingertips on her skin was enough to get a moan out of her.

he pulled away from her, unzipping her dress. he gave her a look before gradually tugging it down. she stepped out of it, kicking it elsewhere. sanemi unclasped y/n's bra, letting it fall from her shoulders. his calloused hands immediately grasped onto her breasts, kissing her once more. she let out a dragged-out whine at the feeling of his fingers pinching at her nipples.

he moved his lips down her jawline and her neck, sucking on her skin harshly. his teeth scraped at her delicate skin as he bit on it, the flat of his tongue pressing against the spot he'd bitten. she could feel herself getting wet at his touch, getting more turned on than before.

"sanemi—," she choked out, instinctively placing her hand on his chest. "let's go to the bed."

he then scooped her up in his arms, walking over to her bed. he dropped her down, her eyes widening in surprise as she stared at sanemi's expression. y/n's lips curled into a nervous grin as she sat up, only to have him crawl on top of her.

he grasped her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

"you havin' second thoughts?" he raised an eyebrow.

"w-what—? hell no."

"mmh. thought you'd chicken out."

"i'd never. even if i did, you probably already came in your pants from just kissing me." she said with an arrogant grin on her face.

"oh, is that right?" he smirked, looking down at her bare chest before staring into her eyes.

she nodded. he roughly pressed his lips against hers once more, the two falling back onto the bed. she wrapped her arms around his neck. he moved his hand down her abdomen and between her legs. he played around with her underwear, leaning back down to kiss her.

before he could, she spoke up.

"go on, take them off. you know you want to."

hearing her words, sanemi unabashedly ripped her panties off, throwing them across the room. he dipped down to kiss her, spreading her legs out wide. he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, rushing to get his garments off.

he pulled his pants down, palming his erection through his boxers. he ogled at her rather vulnerable figure, grinning to himself.

"you're kinda hot."

"yeah, i know." she replied. "y'gonna fuck me with your eyes or?"

"nah, i'm gonna fuck your brains out."

"i'd sure like to see it."

"oh, you're gonna see it." he began pulling his boxers down, only for her to grasp his wrist. he raised an eyebrow, confused at her actions. "what?"

"can you uhm—... take your shirt off?" she muttered, eyes trailing off elsewhere.

he hummed, unbuttoning his shirt. he let his shirt fall from his shoulders and down on her bed. she stared at his abs and the scars going across his chest. it was so hot. she could barely keep her composure.

"yeah, i know." he repeated her words. "don't cum yet, i haven't even put my dick in you."

she rolled her eyes. "uh-huh, okay."

sanemi pulled his boxers down, his dick springing out and tapping against his abdomen. digging in the pocket of his pants, he pulled out a condom. she watched as he opened it, getting ready to slide it on. she could only grin, giggling at him.

"what's funny?" he asked, grasping his cock in his hands.

"you were planning this, huh? i'm that irresistible?"

his eye twitched. "shut up."

"make me."

sanemi grabbed one of her legs, holding it up so he could align himself with her entrance. he pushed himself in without a second thought, a loud squeal coming from her mouth. she covered her lips with her hands, staring up at him. the two locked eyes, a cocky grin growing on his face. he laughed derisively, sending a light slap to her thigh as he shoved himself in deeper.

"ha! you should see the look on your face right now!"

"s-shut the fuck up!" she said, her voice slurring and a string of expletives coming from her as he began moving his hips back and forth.

he chuckled, mocking the noise she made. feeling her clench around him, he groaned and picked his pace up. she grasped onto the sheets, feeling pure bliss at how deep he was inside of her. he didn't hesitate to touch all over her, grasping onto one of her tits while his other hand was tightly holding onto her thigh.

he bent down, kissing her lips sensually. she moaned into it, her stomach getting butterflies once he forced his tongue in her mouth. their tongues pressed together, mixing their saliva with each other's as he relentlessly thrusted into her.

pulling away, he stared her in her eyes while he began to speak. "y'like me fuckin' this slutty pussy? hm?"

y/n nodded absentmindedly, the feeling of her being pounded against the bed by sanemi much better than she'd ever imagined.

"use your words, bitch."

she choked out a 'yes', her eyes beginning to roll back. his hand suddenly went around her neck, squeezing it tightly, but not enough to hurt her. the feeling of sanemi's rough hand around her throat was turning her on even more.

y/n would have never thought she'd be in a position where sanemi was fucking her brains out.

"s-sanemi," she mumbled.

"what?" he asked, the pace of his thrusts not ceasing.

"rub my clit." she said.

"you really are a dirty slut." he said with a laugh, moving his free hand down so he could find her clit.

once he did, it was like paradise for y/n. he was balls deep inside of her, pounding into her like there was no tomorrow while he choked her, called her names, and added more stimulation by rubbing on her clit.

she was a moaning mess, whining and practically screaming his name and several different curse words.

"it feels good, yeah?" he asked her, slightly panting.

her eyes were squinted shut and her face was a bit scrunched, biting down on her lower lip.

"yeah—!" she nodded quickly.

"you're a whore for me, right?" he circled his fingers faster on her clit, making her whimper loudly.

"mhm~!"

"say it." he tightened his grasp on her neck, making her chest raise.

"fuck, i'm a whore for you! i'm a slutty little whore just for you!"

"that's what i like to hear, bitch." he let out a throaty groan, his adam's apple bobbing when he swallowed. he stared down at her, seeing how vulnerable she was just for him.

she heaved a short, yet rough exhale. "sanemi!"

"what is it?"

"m-make me cum, please." she blurted out.

"mmh? you wanna cum on my dick? is that what you wanna do, bitch?"

"yes!"

"don't worry, i'm gonna make you cum, whore. more than once, too."

"d-do it then."

and so, sanemi was like a monster. he made her bed rock back and forth, creaking as it tapped against the wall with his movements. he'd also successfully made her scream and claw at him for mercy. it was quite a sight for sore eyes, if someone were to ask him.

moving his fingers around her cunt, he gathered some of her wetness on his fingertips and continued rotating them at a face pace. it was then he let go of her neck, holding one of her legs up close to her chest. it was then he'd hit a whole new spot, making y/n's back arch.

"oh, god, sanemi! t-there, right there! m'gonna cum!"

"right here? that's what you want? you want me to fuck you just like this? yeah?" he questioned her with a grin, thrusting into her pussy harder. it'd created a squelching sound, along with the sound of their wet skin clapping together.

she yelled out a curse, sanemi tensing up as she clenched around him. he grunted, slowing his quite animalistic pace and staring down at her. she breathed heavily, covering her eyes with her arm.

"holy shit." she muttered. "that was so—..."

"it felt good, didn't it?" he laughed.

"very."

"i could say the same with you... but we're not done yet." narrowing her eyebrows, she moved her arm away from her eyes and stared at his cock that was still rock hard.

she swallowed thickly, a smile growing on her face. she didn't mind. nodding her head, she spread her legs once more, welcoming him for a second round.

—

y/n's hands rested on sanemi's shoulders as she bounced mindlessly on his dick, her head thrown back to give him space to kiss on her neck. his hands were grasping on her ass and he couldn't help but laugh at how worn out she was.

she was so sensitive, she'd orgasmed several times that she lost count. honestly, she'd probably gotten all of her hate for him fucked away. she let out a drawn out moan, biting her lower lip.

she rolled her hips against his, going so slow so she could calm herself.

"sanemi~." she slurred. "it hurts... i can't take it anymore."

"you can. you can take it." he mumbled against her skin, leaving yet another mark. "i think you just need help."

"then help me, dumbass." she said, stopping her movements.

tightening his grip on her skin, he began bouncing her up and down on top of him more roughly, and she could only whine at how sensitive she was. it hurt so bad, but the pain felt great.

pressing her lips against his, she moved her hand down in between her legs and began rubbing her cunt unrelentingly. they shared a sloppy, yet slow kiss, both of them getting tired and ready to finish things off for the night.

their lips smacked together as sanemi moved his hands off of her, hoping she'd take the lead. curses slipped from her mouth as her eyes were shut closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, and beads of sweat fell down her body. their chests would press and stick together as they leaned in closer to each other.

they were unable to resist one another's touch. he hummed, moving her hand away from in between her legs. she opened her eyes, watching as he licked her fingers, soon sucking on them. her eyes widened, her stomach tingling.

"tastes so good." he muttered, tensing up and groaning. "keep riding, baby. i think i'm close."

her heart fluttered at the name, but she nodded and continued moving her hips so slowly, but in a way that felt so good. her moans were like music to his ears, so melodic, and not the mention how good she rode him. he knew that after this, no one could compare to her.

staring at her figure, he saw one hand down on her bed while the other gradually massaged her cunt at the same pace as her riding. her eyes were closed and her lips were pressed together, so concentrated on getting him to reach his climax.

he exhaled, feeling his orgasm creep up on him. he groaned, catching his lip between his teeth. he cursed, feeling his cum spurt into the condom. she smiled, reaching her own with a soft, drawn out whine.

they panted, y/n's hand going on top of his. she leaned her forehead against his, kissing him gently as she slowly inched off of him. he caressed her face, deepening their kiss. it felt so romantic and meaningful.

sanemi sucked on her bottom lip before they pulled away with a smack of their lips, y/n falling onto her bed. she stared at the ceiling, trying to catch her breath. it was then that sanemi sighed, staring up along with her.

"y'know, your dad's gonna fucking murder me?"

"yeah... i know." she mumbled. "good luck."

♡

[deadpresidents]

If I recall correctly, weren’t you a pretty big fan of Bill Clinton for some time? I recall a lot of posts from you about him that were fairly favorable. When did you finally accept that he was a creep? Do you think there’s finally a chance of accountability? I am truly asking from a place of empathy as I know what it’s like to have someone you looked up turn out to be not so great.

No, you're 100% correct. I was a fan of Bill Clinton for a long time. He was President from the time I was 13 until I was 21, and for a kid who was into Presidential history and Democratic politics, he was a major presence in my life. I still think that he is probably the most naturally-gifted politician of my lifetime. Nobody that I've watched has been able to explain public policy or instantly breeze through complicated press conference questions like Bill Clinton. For years after he left office, I said that he should just be the guy who explains how things work to America; he's remarkably smart.

One of the craziest examples of Clinton's intelligence is that he had to figure out ways to make it look like he doesn't have the answer to everything immediately. Clinton's political advisers thought he came across at times like a know-it-all and that it wasn't a good look on the campaign trail. You know how one of the famous mannerisms of Clinton is how he'll pause while he's speaking and bite his lip, like this?

Well, that was done on purpose. Clinton's advisers thought that his quick, completely formed answers to complicated questions was unnatural and that he needed to make himself seem more thoughtful, so he'd pause and bite his lip almost as an intellectual speed bump. Paul Begala, one of the most important architects of Clinton's 1992 campaign explained:

"He was so smart about so many things but also could connect. The whole thing about his biting his lip -- that was coached. Because he would answer so fast. We'd say, 'Take a beat. Pretend you're thinking about it. Pretend you haven't already got an answer.' It was a studied thing to give himself a second to force himself to slow down."

So, things like that were why I was always so impressed and appreciative of Clinton's skills and political gifts.

But, obviously, as I've gotten older and come to understand his personal actions a lot better, it's really hard not to consider him a creep. I mean, the Epstein thing is obviously impossible to reconcile. Even if it there hasn't been any suggestion of Clinton actually abusing any of the girls in the way that Epstein did, he spent a lot of time around Epstein and it's gross. I think one of Epstein's victims said that Clinton was a "total gentleman" and didn't do anything wrong to her, but that photo of a very young girl giving him a neck message in what looks like an airport terminal is a really bad look. That was clearly after he left office, so that was post-Monica Lewinsky and Clinton should have had the awareness to not even put himself near that type of situation with a girl that young (or any woman who was not his wife) -- even if it was just a neck massage that lasted a short amount of time. Even if the girl offered to do it willingly and had no issues with it, that's not a situation that Clinton -- who was impeached and could have been removed from office because he had an affair with a young woman -- should have have felt comfortable with.

But beyond that, as I've gotten older and as we've all gotten better about recognizing these things, his relationship with Monica Lewinsky is what bothers me because of the position that he put Monica in. She was in her early 20s -- barely older than Clinton's own daughter at the time -- and he was President of the United States. Listen, I don't have any room to criticize someone for dating younger women (seriously), but it's the power dynamic and the manner in which he treated Monica when things started to get difficult for him. That poor girl was in such an unimaginably nightmarish place because of what Clinton did and how he -- the incumbent President of the United States -- spoke about her publicly and treated her privately. When you think about it in terms of a relationship, it's just a crazy situation. And the poise that Monica Lewinsky had then and now speaks volumes about the person she is and has become, so it just makes Clinton look that much more terrible in comparison.

It is disappointing because I was a fan of President Clinton for most of my life. And, like Richard Nixon, he was so gifted when it came to his intellectual powers and, in Clinton's case, his political skills, that his flaws and his actions were overlooked for too long. I don't know what kind of accountability there might be for Clinton now that he's been out of office for nearly 25 years and is a few years away from his 80th birthday. But I can say that I feel like I know who he is now and "creep" seems like a pretty fitting description.

[catcas22]

So I’m Pretty Sure Hyetta is Vyke’s Maiden

            Or at least her reincarnation. Maybe this was already super obvious and I’m just late to the party, but I’ll write it down anyway.

            Let’s start with the Shield of the Guilty description.

            Shield made to venerate a maiden whose eyes were crushed by Briars of Sin before being reborn in these lands.

            Given it’s placement on the Weeping Peninsula, we seem to be meant to assume that the maiden in question is Irina. According to her dialogue, her eyes have been weak since birth. After her revival (?) as Hyetta, she says the same, her blindness was a congenital condition, not the result of an illness or injury. Based on the Dung Eater’s questline, we know that killing someone in a specific way (or tampering with the body after death) can inflict a curse that persists into the next life.

            (Side note -- I’ve seen some theories proposing that “Hyetta” is actually the corpse of Irina being possessed either by Shabriri or by the Three Fingers. However, unless she is a phenomenal actress I think we can rule out both of these options based on her horrified reaction to the truth about Shabriri grapes. While I do think that Irina is dead and her body is being possessed, I think that the entity in question is one of her past lives, not Shabriri.)

            So who was this maiden who was executed via the Briars of Sin? I think we can make an educated guess.

Assassin's Approach Description

            The assassins were charged with eliminating Tarnished who had strayed from guidance.

Crepus’s Vial Description

            A ritual implement used by Roundtable Hold assassins. There was a time when Tarnished who had strayed from guidance feared nothing more than utter silence.

            Confessors are tasked with hunting down and assassinating the enemies of the Golden Order, with a special emphasis on Tarnished who strayed from the guidance of Grace. They almost certainly would have gone after Vyke, a very high-profile Tarnished who chose to follow in the footsteps of the most reviled man in history.

Fingerprint Set Description

            No other Tarnished was closer to the throne of the Elden Lord than Vyke. But without announcement, Vyke traveled far below the capital, and was scorched by the flame of frenzy. Did he make his choice for his maiden, or did some other force lure him with suggestion?

            We find Vyke’s berserker shade guarding the Church of Inhibition, within which we find the body of a dead finger maiden. At this point in Vyke’s journey, I think we can confidently say that he did not intend to become the Lord of Chaos, and still hoped to control the Flame of Frenzy to serve his own purposes.

            The description of Vyke’s War Spear (which we gain by defeating the berserker shade) describes Vyke as “tormented by the yellow flame of frenzy from within.” And the ghostly figure at the base of the hill has this to say:

            Ahh, Lord Vyke, it seems that you were no lord, after all. Then where is he? Our true Lord, our Lord of Frenzied Flame. We beg of you, incinerate all that divides and distinguishes. Ahh, may chaos take the world!

            Clearly, this man was a worshiper of the Frenzied Flame. When he says that Vyke was “no lord, after all,” he is not referring to Vyke’s failure to become Elden Lord -- he is referring to Vyke’s refusal to become the Lord of Frenzied Flame.

So, my proposal:

            Wishing to spare his maiden, Hyetta, Vyke accepts the mark of the Three Fingers. However, he keeps his armor on during the Fingers’ embrace, hoping to blunt the effect and maintain control of himself.

            The Roundtable Hold hears of Vyke’s heretical actions. Assassins are dispatched to kill him.

            Vyke and Hyetta are ambushed at the Church of Inhibition -- or, if you want to get really tragic, Vyke sent her away after his meeting with the Three Fingers so that she would not be incriminated by her association with him, only for the Confessors to hunt her down anyway.

            The Confessors execute Hyetta via the Briars of Sin. Vyke proceeds to lose his shit so hard that an echo of his rage (the berserker shade) still guards the church centuries after. For the first time, he gives in to the Flame of Frenzy.

            After massacring the Confessors, Vyke attempts to rein himself back in. He finally manages to wrest control back from the Flame of Frenzy by tearing out his fingerprint eye (which we can later find) and throwing it away.

            He rejects the influence of the Three Fingers and heads for the Mountaintop of the Giants to finish what he started. Vyke remains in control -- for the time being.

            Many years later, Hyetta is reincarnated as the maiden Irina. Due to the manner of her death, she is born with damaged eyesight. After Irina’s death, Hyetta slips back into the driver’s seat (albeit without any memory of her past life) and more or less picks up where she left off, acting as a finger maiden to one who would become the Lord of Frenzied Flame.

[horizon-verizon]

Do you people really believe Rhaenyra was fighting back against the patriarchy (that makes women in her family into broodmares) by giving birth to 3 bastard children that could potentially jeopardize her claim to the Iron Throne if the truth was discovered? One bastard child would’ve been enough (Jace as heir to the Iron Throne). Maybe even a second bastard child (if she wants Luke to claim the Driftwood Throne too). But having a third bastard?? What’s the reason for that? Rhaenyra wanted to say a final “fuck you” to the patriarchy? How come Rhaenyra didn’t attempt to have a fourth bastard too? Going by the canon timeline, she was pregnant with Aegon before she married Daemon, and then the two of them rushed to get married as soon as possible to avoid the possibility of their child being a bastard. But I guess Rhaenyra should have stayed unmarried so that this fourth child could be another bastard, in her quest to keep screwing over the patriarchy. 🙄

Well...yes, Rhaenyra was resisting patriarchal pressures when she advocated for her sons' lives and continued to fight for her position as Queen despite male primogeniture. No, she wasn't thinking of feminism or making other women's lives better. When a woman defies compulsions to submit to the convention it's not always a feminist on her individual part, but it certainly is beneficial towards the necessary example set against female subservience.

She wanted to protect her sons, herself, and get back what was denied her. Because the social preference and graces given towards male rulers, this in itself, such a natural action someone with dignity has, is in itself a rebellious action. And she had to have heirs, but Laenor couldn't give her any (show); likely couldn't (book), so it wasn't entirely how she wanted to have children.

She also truly loved Daemon, he her; it wasn't just for the child. For all intents and purposes, even if Aegon hadn't been conceived in the 6month after Laena died, is there any suggestion Rhaenyra wouldn't have married Daemon once she was "free" from her marriage to Laenor?

But I want to point out that yes, ideologically (which is the idea trying to become reality by claiming it is reality through its claimed expedience, simplicity, or compatibility for one's political interests), Rhaenyra's first 3 boys were bastards. That is by the ideology of that makes one not part of their father's blood used to validate their very existence....which is all what bastardy is meant to convey. Holistically and legally, no they were not. Did it matter that they weren't Laenor's whether they looked like him or not, yes of course, bc there's always the chance of their parentage being found out and the fallout could be very disastrous and it's unlikely that Rhaenyra would have been able to keep them as her heirs if she already hadn't been stripped of her position as heir herself. But the thing standing in her way or that which was actually the largets danger to her was no one but the greens who went out of their way--or really Alicent went out of her way--to try to force Viserys to proclaim them not of Laenor's blood. Without the greens or Alicent, who exactly could as effectively trouble Viserys' plans? This is the material matter of "bastardy", and it matters a lot more because this is where the action is coming from.

Back to fans' trying to make it as if Rhaenyra is intentionally trying to destroy patriarchy; people who claim such want to then argue for how she is not one to root for because they want to ignore the bigger picture and effects of rule when it is inconveinent. If they can claim that Rhaenyra is a bad feminist or a "liar", then they can conflate any sort of female rebelliousness directly with feminism, then they can negate the very core anti-sexist point of the Dance and the entire book of F&B AND claiming feminism itself is not relevant or a substantial movement/critique to explain or inspire rebelliousness against the patriarchal status quo's elements and as a whole.

It's meant to invalidate the reason why anyone should care why her ruling is important, to reduce the entire story and its meaning to the individual characters, to make the story "not that deep" so you cannot detect sexist logic. To make one not regard political ramifications aside from how Rhaenyra is not being obeying tradition (itself not the truth, either). To remove nuance.

Talking back to your father after he gives you a book meant to "humble" you (the girl) is not the same thing as being feminist or being part of the movement or seeking legislation against male sexual violence. Provides the way towards that, but they aren't the same; defending oneself and asserting your human right to point out others' bad behavior is not exactly "feminist", but it is very necessary when you want to be feminist. Personal agency is very important to political agency and authority as an ingredient, but it's not the samet thing. Which is why being a "girl's girl" isn't automatically a feminist thing.

Jeyne Arryn would be a good example of a "proto" feminist as she is looking to make sure women at large gain more agency and political authority.