#and some creep-ass power dynamics

[myidealhousehaschickenfeet]

Obedience is honesty, and honesty, obedience.

Fox owes the Chancellor both.

[flokali]

— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamic that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for both of the parties involved.  There’s always going to be an underlying power imbalance, someone who holds the authority over the other; there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately. 

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind. 

The relationship starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well. You ended up offering them private tutoring when you found out you were the only professor’s whose class who they’d been treating like a joke. 

They reject it immediately; seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop into your office so you can review and work on assignments and other material they’ve been failing at. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off the longer you explain your reasoning.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You have seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and ask to study together with them. You’d heard your colleagues rave about them being easily one of the college’s star students, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you sincerely doubt since you’ve seen their works, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class.

Maybe they thought it’d be easier, decided to try it and got it in their head they didn’t have to try – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they keep on messing up some things, even if it means inconsistencies in their work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough that you could fail them but anything that was actually important was clearly half-assed. They were nailing the basics in one essay and then completely misrepresenting them on the next.

You explain your concerns; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so late. It’s not the end of the world to repeat a semester, but it’s avoidable in their case and you don’t understand why they seemingly insist on failing.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, they’d hooked you in with a months long performance and it all relied on this moment, it was a disgustingly perfect story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs and finance, how they had been struggling for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves and pay rent and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all the studying they’ve been doing. Your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades. They can’t believe they’d let themselves go in your course and they’re deeply ashamed because they enjoyed it greatly, but there was little they could to catch up now.

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind. 

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as them dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried about what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier. You reiterate that this must not come out, fully aware that you were breaking multiple rules but you were too much of a bleeding heart.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature people to try and mess with someone who was struggling. While the mindset eventually wears off, you understand why they could be self-conscious about it.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways than they would have before, their speech slowly morphs into a more flirtatious tone, their touches being lingering on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs. Opting instead to think of it as a silly crush, choosing go try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either an above average grade.

It didn’t take too long for their grades to get better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice, or even thrice if you could fit it into your schedule, if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place.

Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching them, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point. It’s silly, they know, but they can’t shake that shame off.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place, they point out that anywhere else and you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re too exhausted to continue arguing with them and give in. 

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering too far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned. 

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch them entering your apartment. You didn’t even want your neighbors to see them, even if you looked close in age you didn’t want to hear anything about a potential secret lover sneaking into your house.

They agree and promise to follow every single rule you’d put in place, they swear.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together.

It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares. 

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore. 

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.” 

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”  

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don��t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this? 

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?” 

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.   

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester. 

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”. 

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

[pursuitseternal]

“Seek Me:” naughty Hide and Seek for you and your Vampire Lord in “The Rogue You Were”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 3.4 K of predator/prey, hide and seek double smut

Summary: To fight the impending ennui of politics, you play a game, just a simple hunt, a sort of dark and perverted hide and seek. Winner claims the spoils, and the spoils are always… delicious.

CW: predator/prey dynamics, perverted hide and seek, slight exhibitionism (twice), rough sex, possessive sex, double cream pie, (surprise) carriage sex

Ao3 link | Astarion fic Masterlist

Chapter 11… Seek Me

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Shadows stretch across the palace halls, bending and misshaping anything familiar. That creeping memory of sneaking in here years ago to stop the Rite that made you and your love what you are still niggles in your thoughts and nightmares sometimes.

Times like this, you wonder why Astarion insisted on living in such a place of past torment. Even though the decor was brighter and the crimsons more vibrant, it didn’t matter in the dark.

All looked the same cloaked in shadows and covered in night.

Your undead heart pounds, it's slow and hard as your breasts rise and fall rapidly with your breaths. Why… why did you agree to let him go first? Some little game to break the ennui. A simple game of hide and seek. But you should have known, hiding and seeking was more than that in an ancient ancestral, vampiric palace.

And it was always more than that with Astarion, your love, your sire, your husband.

You keep your eyes open for his glowing red gaze… your ears train the ground for his near silent step… he’s far more practiced at all being a vampire entails. He can hold his breath, slow his heart, move like death incarnate.

Your only advantage is that you know the palace better. All these days spent overseeing renovations as he attended council meetings and travels, you had more than a few tricks up your sleeve. As long as he didn’t catch you first.

Darting onto the balcony, you keep to the shadows and hug the wall. If you can just make it inside the hall, you’re sure he won’t find you for quite some time.

After all, it’s just a little game to play while your guests are still departing, admiring your new palace. It’s only a matter of time now before you both need to leave for some grand soirée, another of many evenings wrapped up in tedium and the boring banter of politics and power. This game is to spice up the evening ahead. And instead, it just makes your heart race.

Winner or loser, you know you’re just going to end up split on his cock, gasping and pleasured wherever you are. Wherever it is he finds you.

You just hope it’s not within earshot of these nobles…these poor, pathetic souls who wander to look at your splendorous home. You hear their voices from down below, lightening your step to go unnoticed. Muffled noises grow closer. Hands shaking, you know that hidden door is here… behind this panel, your hands skim over the ornate wallpaper, searching with fumbling touch for the switch. Noises grow louder, and suddenly you’re aware of the milling crowd on the other side of the railing. They can just catch you from the corners of their judgemental eyes, their ears just within reach enough to hear you if you were to make enough noise…

You wonder if they can also hear those footsteps approaching. Astarion. Hunting you down, seeking you in your fun and twisted game.

Trembling, ragged breaths come from your mouth as you finally hear the click of the hidden switch, the panel shifting in the wall to reveal total and utter darkness. You smile, relieved….

Until two glowing crimson eyes open to look down on you from within. Quicker than breath, he’s turned you around, dagger to your throat and arms pinning you against his chest as he laughs so quietly in your ear. “Shhhh, not a sound… my treasure.” He grinds his prominent erection on the curve of your ass through your thin silken gown. “Not if you want those Patriars and Council members to hear how much of a slut you are for your lover…”

You swallow the sound that longs to break from your throat. His hand, the one that isn’t skating the blade of his dagger tantalizingly over your neck, skates up your thigh, rucking up your skirts to reveal your bare legs and curves. Just the way he likes you.

“You want that, want to show off how much I crave you, don’t you…?” you hiss the question, pulling at his arm enough to free you, but he only retaliates with a smile on his lips.

Clutching you all the harder, he spins you both into the wall to press you into that elegant wallpaper. That dagger blade is stowed away, replaced by his hand at your neck. His laugh is laced with pure devilry—he lives for this. That hand returns to hiking up your skirt until you feel nothing but the fine, supple leather of his trousers grinding against your ass. “You question if I’d like the powerful men of this city to know that its Hero against the Netherbrain whimpers for me almost every hour of the day?” You feel his hands quickly, dexterously unlace those leathers. That thick, hot head of his cock teases against your ass, slipping beneath your thighs as he spreads you wider with his knee. “You wonder if I’m proud that my beloved longs for me always, and I for her?”

You stifle your groan against the rich and ribbed texture of the wallpaper. That cock head teasing into your entrance just enough to make you shake, to make you press against the wall harder to lift your hips more for him. A low growl shakes against your sensitive ear as he approves, that cock teasing inside you just a little bit more. “Tell me, my treasure, how hard did you try to hide from me? That couldn’t have really been your best…” he taunts you, both with that hot and blunted head in your folds and his words in your ear. “Once I’m finished claiming my victory this round, you’ll just have to try again you know…”

Shivering, you nod, your cheek rubbing that expensive paper, its lush colors too bright to have your face shoved against it. “Oh no, I was barely trying, my love,” you lie just to taunt him all the same. “I just wanted you to claim your victory, worried you’d take too long for how badly I need you.”

“Such pleasing words from my lust-driven consort,” he chuckles, quiet enough for your ear alone. “Such a slut, just for me, is that it?” he rasps as he shoves himself deep into you at last, fangs sinking into your neck all at once. “What kind of lover would I be to deny you that?”

He sucks harder at your neck, hips pistoning against your rear deliberately and smoothly. You physically bite your tongue and cheek to keep from moaning, the hard won prize of this game going to both of you, that desire flooding your bond. Thighs shaking, you know you won’t last much longer, not with the thrill of being just out of eyesight from the dozen or so guests that still mill around. “I look forward to you trying to beat me again,” he growls in your ear, words staggered and stuttered with his thrusts. “But we better finish this round before anyone suspects the Vampire Lord and his Consort of being so madly in love they can’t keep their hands or sexes off each other, hmm?”

A small whine escapes your self-imposed gag on your lips, and it makes him laugh low and dangerously in his throat. “What a good little consort,” he nips at your ear. “Just can’t help yourself. So clever to get caught…” he groans. With that thickening inside you, that gravel in his voice, you know he’s growing close.

The thought alone makes you come undone, back arching, your fangs breaking your own lip’s flesh. It takes every ounce of self-restraint to keep yourself from mewling and screaming as you burst in heat. And all the while, he’s groaning and rasping in your right ear. Shivers run down your back as he grunts harder in that sensitive spot against your neck. Erratic, hard thrusts jab deep inside you, his cock twitching as it pulses and fills you.

“That scent will make it harder for you to hide this time, you know my treasure,” he emphasizes with a deep breath right against your neck. “Your blood, my cum, your arousal… You’re such a mess, marked so well. There’s nowhere inside this palace I won’t be able to track you down, you know…”

You smirk, spinning in his arms to rest your back against the wall. “We’ll see about that…” you tease, breathless and overconfident. He just smirks, that edge of arousal and intrigue darkening the deep crimson of his narrowing eyes.

“I’m sure you’ll do your best, my darling little vampling,” he kisses your lips longingly, a little playful nip at the end, the mingling of iron on your tongues from your blood. He breaks away, eyes wide, frightening as he wraps his hand around your throat, your skin still slick from blood. “We have half an hour before we must depart for the evening, my pet. You had better not delay us, you know.”

“You wish me to let you win in that time so we remain… punctual?” you tease.

“I’m just stating the obvious,” he shakes his head very slowly as he smirks wide enough to bare his fangs, “I won’t be pleased if I have to leave without you just because you decided to be clever.”

“I… am… clever,” you taunt, tapping him on his nose with each insolent word.

Astarion pulls his hand away from your throat, eyes glinting, breath still. “Then I’ll let you get a head start, my clever girl…” he leans his fanged face into yours, “so you had better run.”

You stumble away, thighs slick as he watches you break out into the evening on the balcony again. He just laughs, your scent too strong in his nose. Voices from below call up to him, those guests wishing to impart a few more good wishes to their host before their departure for the next gathering. Astarion shoves his cock back in his trousers, perfecting his appearance before leering down at the nobles form over that thick railing. Those mortals so literally far beneath him. “A fair evening to you,” he calls with a flourish. “My lady and I will see you at the festivities anon. A few matters of home to wrap up before the evening, I’m afraid.”

He sniffs the air, the stink of these guests cloud his senses. Striding down the stairs, he tries to pick up your scent, but there are just too many bodies, too much stale wine and general stink. Once the door is shut to the palace, once he is truly alone, he tears through room after room, searching and sniffing. His mind tugs against yours. “Where are you… darling….?” he growls down your bond, but you know better than to answer. “Trying so hard to be clever, is that it?”

He sneers to himself as he sweeps silently through bedchambers and ballrooms and galleries. He presses against the walls at cracks and hidden doors to scent you within the tunnels. The clock starts to chime, and Astarion hisses in frustration. He hears the carriage rumbling outside the main doors.

“On the gods, darling,” he hisses outloud and down their bond. “If you don’t come out right now, I will be sorely disappointed.” He huffs, grabbing his gloves and cane perched neatly in the foyer. He pauses for a moment, tilting his pointed ear to listen to his palace, scanning his domain for her. “You think you’ve won?” he snips, irritated and irked as he starts out the door towards the waiting coach. It’s black paint trimmed with gold shines in the torchlight as night falls. “I assure, my darling, if you don’t come this moment to the coach for the evening’s gathering…”

He lets the threat hang in the air. Not even a tremor of a laugh from her end of their bond. Teeth grinding, he launches from the door into the gathering dark of night. He opens the carriage door with a shout for the driver to make haste. Before the door has even shut behind him, his team of raven black mares is off through the Upper City.

Astarion flops down on the elegantly cushioned seat of his coach. His cane in his hands nearly breaks in the strength of his angered grip. “How dare she…” he hisses into the dark as the carriage bumps and sways over the streets. That little window lets the wind whistle in. Usually he enjoys the breeze on his face, but now, tonight, it annoys the hells out of it. He slams it shut

Suddenly, without that breeze, a scent reaches his nose. Blood… arousal…

“Oh… my love…” your voice tickles his mind.

The couch sways around a corner, something shuffling near his feet. A hand shoots up to grab the hem of his jacket, yanking him towards the floor.

“Darling…” he purrs down at you as your eyes lock into his, your fangs must be glinting in the dim light in the carriage.

“I win,” you gloat, your body pinned beneath him on the floor of your carriage. His legs are already spreading yours, hands already roughly pulling your skirts up to your waist, yet you feel like the victor. The prey finally catches the predator in her neat little trap.

“Clever little consort, setting her snare so neatly for me to wind up between your legs…” he rasps, his body bumping and swaying against you in time with the movements of your coach. But then he begins to add a few more deliberate thrusts of his clothed and hardened cock against your already used and soaking folds. “What is the prize you wish to claim, my treasure?”

“You know my favorite prize,” you purr, catching the edge of his pointed ear in your mouth for a suck, one that deafens him for the moment from the rumble of your coach. A moan slips out from his lips far louder than would be dignified.

His ear slips from your mouth as he turns his head, a snarl in Astarion’s throat as he catches your chin. “Then it is everything you shall receive…” he growls, “when I decide to finally give it to you…” he teases you darkly, those hips grinding against your folds mercilessly. He’s heavy on your core, the bumping and jostling of the carriage stealing your breath as he sometimes times his thrusts with the unpredictable up-down. It only makes him laugh harder and capture your lips in his when he squashes you so completely.

“Maybe if you had just played the game properly, you wouldn’t be feeling so trapped like the little prey you are for me, my little treat…” he nips into your neck, just a small bite. Enough to draw blood by the mouthful for him to feast on.

“I did play, and I won,” you chuckle low in your throat, reaching between our hips to blatantly touch myself. “Maybe it’s time you paid respects to the victor this round?” You tease him, acerbic and haughty as he hears your fingers toying through your own slick.

Astarion gives that low and wicked laugh, relishing your defiant spirit. “I don’t think you want anything respectful done with you…. Do you my treasure?” He can’t stiffle a groan as he teases his own cock head through your sopping seam. Over the rattling of your wooden coach cobblestones, you hear the wet sounds of him playing inside you. It sends shivers down your spine and makes you bite your lips enough to draw your own blood to paint your lips scarlet.

You groan, the carriage lurches around a corner making you both roll to the side. A wicked laugh in your throat, you take full advantage of the surprise. Momentum swings you around, until you are the one on top, in a second, a little rise of your hips, and you sink his cock deep inside you.

Astarion bares his fangs and hisses at the sudden warmth and wet that sucks him in, his head now bouncing on the floor. You ride him mercilessly. “Such a good prize you are…” you tease him, gripping his chin to make him look at you. “Nothing like having the Vampire Ascendant at my mercy for once,” you flaunt your victory.

“You think yourself so clever and….” he starts, but you press a finger against his mouth before sticking two of them inside his mouth as you shush him.

“Hush,” you smirk, glowing in your moment of power. You swirl your fingers around his mouth, grazing over his wet and sucking tongue, pricking your skin on his razor-fangs. “Just let your clever Consort have this victory once,” you smile, pouting down at him a bit as you pull your fingers from his salivating lips.

“Very well, my darling,” he growls, “but at least you could let your loving Ascendant lord sit up so his head isn’t addled by the roads.”

You snicker, “Of course. We wouldn’t want to have your mind any more befuddled by my glorious win.” Your smirk is feral and arrogant. You ease off of him, watching with a knowing and careful eye as he slides himself up to rest against the door of the carriage.

He tosses his head, your bodies still joined perfectly, the coach still rocking with that extra, insatiable friction that moves your sexes on their own. He smirks as you ride over a massive bump, one that fairly throws you into the air to slide down his cock with more force than you can give. You gasp as it makes you land squarely on him, cock head slamming your cervix.

The grin on his face grows delightfully sadistic as it twists those sharp features. You see his ears twitching as he listens closely to the rumbles of the coach, smirk winding higher as he lifts you up in time with the coach to slam you back down as it falls….

You grit your teeth and scream through them with a smile as he fills you, sharp and suddenly. “Get riding, my clever treasure,” he chuckles as he pulls you in for a kiss, “or these roads and I will do it for you.”

You give him a glare, more amorous than angry, your mouth slack as you buck your hips with abandon. You bite your lip as you move, the vibrations of the coach send you barreling towards your bliss so quickly. Hard and fast, your hands grip into the stitching of his jacket, his breath hot at the base of your neck. His gaze burns your skin, watching the way your breasts jiggle and move right before his eyes as you are thrown around, at the mercy of the coach’s movements.

He groans, the pressure so great inside you both, you feel it searing between you and crashing down your mental bond. With one breath, you clench around him, his hands grip into your waist to keep you steady as he tries to snap his hips. It bursts inside you, the pressure and pleasure erupting through your core as you reach your peaks as one. He places a breathless kiss on the soft skin of your bosom. “I do so love when you win too, my perfect prey and equal hunter…” he pants against your flesh. “I’ll gladly let you claim your victory from me…” his left brow arches rakishly and teasing, “but only when you’ve earned it, my darling…”

“Hmmm,” you hum, irritated and yet shivering in pleasure. “Just admit, I’m just as good…”

Suddenly the carriage rumbles to a stop, and you lock eyes with Astarion. Voices approach from behind the door, and your two sets of crimson eyes flare wide a moment before the door pulls open behind him.

He grunts as he spills backward, unceremoniously dangling out the door. His head hangs over the edge of the coach, his fanged smile wide and grinning as he stares into the crow upside down, while your hands grabbing furiously at your skirts to hide your sexes still throbbing and intertwined. He laughs that low and rumbling giggle, quite the sight as other guests pause to stare at the Vampire Ascendant indulging within his own private coach. “Well,” he chortles, sitting up to give a bit of privacy as you slide off his lap, “there isn’t any use hiding our love any longer…” Astarion nips at your neck playfully as he refastesns his trousers. “If they sought a glimpse into the loving depravities of the Ascendant and his consort, they certainly found it.”

You giggle, the rush of being so on display racing through your nerves. Carefully you follow him out of the coach, both of you straightening your clothes as if nothing happened. “And you wanted to play your games thinking tonight would be boring,” you rasp into his ear.

He stops in the middle of the grave path and pulls you hard into him, his kiss all lips and fangs and tongue down your throat. Hiding nothing of your passion from the spectators. “Nothing is boring when I’m with you.”

[paradiseismine]

His Favorite, part 2 - Miles Fairchild x reader

Love note from Nina: I wanted to write some more of that Miles and naughty maid storyline, so here it is.

Pairing: Miles Fairchild (The Turning) x f!reader

Warnings: all smut, slight breeding kink, degradation, imbalanced power dynamics. Is this a bit too much? idk let me know

Being the little creep he is, Miles always made sure the maids working at the manor were young and wore the shortest skirts possible. He also ordered them to always clean the floor on all fours and wear thin white underwear as part of their uniform. So, following those “rules”, there you were: scrubbing the living room floor, all alone.

Miles had gathered all of the other maids in his room, as they were required for a “group uvular check” - his code to have them take turns sucking his dick. On those “checks”, he’d judge their cock sucking skills and slam his dick on their faces one by one, while the others were forced to watch.

You weren’t called in for that “task”, which left you all by yourself doing the housework for the last half an hour or so. With a brush and a small bucket full of soapy water, you couldn’t help but sigh, slightly angry at the situation.

Until you heard the door softly swing open.

- There you are - Miles approached you from behind, lightly touching the fine fabric of your white panties. His touch made you shiver and wet your panties instantly.

- Are you done fucking the other maids’ throats? - you spat, jealous, as you sat up on your knees, no longer on all fours as he had found you.

- Yes, and I’m ready to fuck your pussy and dump my cum in it.

- Why didn’t you just cum in their mouths? - you crossed your arms and batted your eyelashes at him, displeased.

- Women’s pussies were made for men to cum in. Why would I waste my cum anywhere else? - Miles kneeled to look into your eyes as he spoke. He delivered his words as if you were stupid.

- Well, I wasn’t invited to your throat fucking party, which left me here all alone doing all of the housework. - you complained, frowning.

- Of course you weren’t invited - he grabbed your chin. - You’re not ugly and stupid like they are. Your cunt is the best one of the manor. Why would I cum inside those ugly bitches’ throats, when I can cum inside your delicious creamy pussy?

You blushed. Miles weren’t one to throw compliments, this was already unusual of him. Your frown softened instantly, and Miles studied your face for a few seconds, intrigued.

- Stand up and open your mouth a little - he ordered, standing up as well.

You did as you were told, still a bit confused.

- Good. - he said.

Miles’ face approached yours as he inserted his tongue inside your slightly open mouth, giving you a sloppy kiss.

He NEVER kissed any of the maids before. You closed your eyes and enjoyed his tongue dancing inside your mouth, fantasizing about him eating your pussy.

- Panties off - he ordered, cupping your pussy for a second as he broke the kiss. You were wet through your panties and he could absolutely feel that with the smallest touch.

You immediately lifted up your skirt and slid your panties down your legs, discarding them on the floor, for the other maids to find later. They were always so jealous of you for being Miles’ favorite.

He guided you to the couch and touched your back, gesturing for you to bend over.

As you did so, Miles unzipped his pants and rubbed his cock, already slick with the other maids’ saliva, into your clenching, needy pussy. That girth never failed to bring a moan to your lips. Inch by inch, he entered you, rolling his eyes at the feeling.

- How do you remain so tight if I fuck your pussy every chance I get? - he asked, hand wrapped around your hair like a horse rein as he thrusted.

- I don’t know sir, I just love taking your cock - you moaned, rolling your hips back at him. - I love having a nice warm load of your cum inside me…

- I bet you do - Miles chuckled, giving your ass a good smack. - I bet you’d love to get knocked up by me, wouldn’t you?

- Yes sir, I’d love that very much…

- All the bitches on this manor would, that’s why I don’t cum in their pussies. But you’re different…

- Yeah? Am I better than them? - you moaned in response. Feeling all stretched out by Miles’ cock was heavenly.

- Ugh, this is the best cunt I’ve ever cum in - Miles groaned, his curly hair bouncing around his face. - So warm and soaking wet, always soaking wet for me, aren’t you, my favorite little slut?

- Yes sir, always dripping wet for you, always desperate to be filled with your warm cum inside my whoreish pussy - you moaned, rolling your hips while getting impaled from behind.

- Now that’s a good cumwhore - he praised. - Always eager to take my load into you cunt, aren’t you?

- Yes sir, always…

- Then take it, slut - he thrusted faster and faster, and you could faintly hear him panting behind you.

Soon, that divine warmth invaded your soaking cunt, his load so thick and creamy. Miles’ grunts and moans as he came inside your pussy were surely a delight to hear.

- All filled up to the brim - he removed himself of your pussy. - Maybe next time I’ll have one of the other maids lick you clean, it’d be a good view, don’t you think?

[creepy-friday]

Just came across your blog and I ended up binge-reading everything! I'm in love with the way you write the characters, specially the Proxies. And the female Proxy is definetly my favourite👌.

How it would be if, instead of being Slender's trusted minion and already a experienced Proxy, she was a newbie and fresh meat? Kinda like Cody, younger and dragged there with little to no choice because the Operator saw potential in them. Would the dynamics change, since she doesn't have a high rank to rely on?

Maybe Brian is appointed as her mentor and he gets advantage of her inexperience by corrupting her?

I'M VERY GLAD YOU ENJOY MY BLOG💖

Creepypasta Proxies x Newbie!Female Proxy

The overbearing silence after the buzzing static faded away was bringing in a new damned life.It's been a month since you were bought here,locked in your room until The Operator decided it was enough for you to settle in

It was time for you to meet again with the masked men that dragged you here-the same killers that were supposed to be your team, "allies" even

Every resident was looking down on you,even EJ that pitied you and looked at you with mercy behind his blue mask.The first time you had to pay a visit to his clinic he even asked if you are scared because deep down,his instinct made him to enjoy it

The harassing is real,but this time it's more dangerous.Remember,you're a helpless outsider in a place full of rapists,killers and awful fantasies.Walking down dark hallways is always in a hurry,same as eating and showering.

Since Brian was assigned to your ass,you're almost totally saved and worry free next to him,but he's also a piece of shit

He sees your potential,after all, if The Operator views you as valuable-then you're most certainly priceless.

He's a gentle guy,takes his sweet sweet time to teach you everything you need to know.

Sure,he respects you,but during training sessions he will do everything in his power to get you under him,sort of helpless.

"See,it's not that hard" he breathed out as he guided your hands on the right places "if you ever happen to find yourself in this position you know what to do now,right?" he smiled in a gentle manner,slowly standing up from above you,taking you by your hand with him."Do you want to reverse the roles?"

He will defend your name even if you are in the wrong during proxy meetings.He will keep on bringing up how fucked up all of them felt when they arrived there,and this point always works.(more or less for Masky)He knows how to pull the strings when he wants to

You already know the drill,Masky is a menace to work with,especially with newbies.Don't get me wrong,he doesn't expect you to be fully prepared to know shit,he enjoys having you dumb,but he will always make you feel like shit,he will try his best to bring a pained expression to your face because it makes him feel better and he's bored of Toby

Definitely uses you as a vent chat,no restrictions for him,from inventing some fucked up story to telling you about his miserable life from before the mansion and during the present since he doesn't expect you to stay

The only time he stops is when his friend gives him the sign.It's crazy,but he respects Brian more than he cares about breaking some of your lovely bones

Toby was more than glad to know another woman "joined in",especially since you're new and vulnerable,he now has the chance to look out for someone and to be needed

Altough Toby was the most unusual individual,Cody was the one to give you the creeps most of the times.And he does it on purpose

Since he's no longer the fresh meat everyone looks down to,he feels superior that now he has you around

He wouldn't bully you or make you feel bad on purpose, but he will definitely baby you around A LOT

Kate is complicated.She doesn't talk,she doesn't look at you,she doesn't make any effort to teach nor to train you.She looks down on you,and the only time she will open her mouth is to either tell you to stop what you're doing or to answer any of your questions with a phrase so vague it will make you have even more questions

Time is precious,so don't waste it.Every hour can be spent becoming stronger,but also every hour goes by terribly slow when around every fucking corner someone is gawking their eyes at you

[shadowdaddies]

girl… “Crawl to Me” was wonderful!! I loved it!! Could you possibly switch the roles and see some dominant Rhys 🫣🫡

I always knew that Rhys was the biggest switch in Prythian lol. He’s definitely the male who loves it when his partner wants to top every now and then and gladly submits and gets all giddy lol.

thank you💜 Rhys is def a a switch but dom-leaning (he is Illyrian after all) so here's the "crawl to me" with Rhysie on top

Crawl.

dom!Rhys x Reader

Warnings: smut below the cut, oral m!receiving, d/s dynamics, p in v sex, minors DNI, not proofread

Realizing that your time had run out of avoiding your mate, you slowly made your way up the stairs to your shared bedroom where Rhys awaited. Hand halting on the cold metal of the door handle, you considered if there were any other options than facing him right now.

“Come in, darling,” the High Lord drawled from in your room. Of course he had heard your approach. With a deep breath, you turned the handle and pushed the door open. Rhys sat in a chair by the fire, swirling whiskey in a glass as violet eyes watched your every move. Closing the door behind you, you dared to creep closer to your mate. 

“You embarrassed me tonight,” Rhys murmured, his gaze now on the roaring fire from the hearth. Your head hung low as you nodded, wracked with guilt from your actions this evening. 

It was your first meeting among the High Lords, and you had underestimated just how antagonizing some of them could be. When Rhys had to jump across the table to keep you from smacking Beron across the face, you knew tensions would be high when you returned home.

“It’s hard for me to hear the way that they speak to you,” you admitted, reflecting on how the High Lord of Autumn had the nerve to call your mate ‘Amarantha’s Whore,’ as if Beron didn’t know what Rhys had sacrificed for Prythian. 

Rhys’s gaze softened, understanding exactly what you felt as you waited by the door. You felt love and admiration flow through the bond - an unspoken agreement that Rhys understood your actions. You were defending your mate, and would continue to do so until your dying breath.

You dared to glance at the male across the room, emanating dark power as he watched you with a predatory gaze. Rhysand smirked, looking down his nose at you despite being sat in the large velvet chair. “Crawl to me,” he purred.

Your thighs immediately clenched at the raw power that laced his command, and you began to crouch towards the ground. Rhys clicked his tongue in reprimand, and you froze in your place. “Undress first, darling. I want you ready for me to use.”

You stood back to your full height, eyes locking with his as you slid the straps off of your dress, letting it fall to the floor. Rhys let out a low groan at the sight of your bare body. “Filthy girl, wearing nothing under her clothes to a High Lords meeting?”

You smirked, stepping out of your heels, lowering to your knees. Rhys’s chest was heaving now, his patience hanging by a thread as you lowered to all fours, arching your back to provide him an ample view of your breasts and ass as you slowly crawled towards him. 

Rhys downed his glass of whiskey, legs spread wide as you settled on your knees between them - your palms flat on your thighs as you kept your head down and waited for instruction. 

“Eyes on me, darling,” Rhys purred, one finger crooking underneath your chin as he tilted your face to look at him. You swallowed at the intensity of his gaze upon you, breathing turning erratic as the scent of your combined arousals filled the air. “You know what to do, pet.”

You nodded as Rhys leaned back in his chair, lazily stroking your hair with one hand as you moved to undo his pants. Lifting his hips, Rhys helped you pull the fabric off completely, waving his hand to spirit away his shirt and leave himself bare to you. You absentmindedly licked your lips at the sight of his toned, tattooed chest - yanked from your perverted thoughts by your mate’s voice. “Set to work, then.”

Looking up at him through your lashes, you knew what Rhysand was expecting. You took his hard cock in your hand, licking a long stripe up the vein on the bottom of the shaft. His jaw went slack, but his eyes kept their focus on you as the hand in your hair slid down to gently hold your neck. Bringing your tongue to his tip, you licked the slit before sucking on the head, enjoying how Rhys’s hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth. 

With a smirk, you quickly took him all the way, feeling the head of his cock in your throat as you gagged around it. Rhys let out a loud moan at the feeling, holding you in place until you tapped on his thigh for air. Slightly releasing his hold on your neck, Rhys allowed you to bob up and down on his shaft, one hand working the part you couldn’t reach with your mouth while the other hand gently cradled his balls. “Fuck, darling, just like that,” he groaned and you could tell Rhys was getting close.

Hoping to have him spill inside your mouth, you doubled down on your efforts, picking up the pace as you sucked and stroked him. Rhys twitched inside your mouth just as a hand wrapped around your hair, pulling you off of him. The High Lord panted as violet eyes simmered, looking down at you. “A very nice effort, darling, but I intend to finish inside this pussy tonight,” Rhys drawled, his other hand cupping your chin as he forced you to stand. “Up you go, on the bed. All fours, please.”

You obeyed without thought, walking to the bed and positioning yourself just as you knew he liked, pussy clenching as you anticipated his touch. The bed shifted behind you, one finger lazily tracing up your core. Your head fell forward at the sensation, and you heard the sticky sound of your slick between Rhys’s fingers. “So wet for me, darling. Sucking my cock affects you this much?” he teased. 

You opened your mouth to reply when your head was shoved into the mattress, ass in the air as darkness enveloped your senses. You couldn’t see, couldn’t move, couldn’t think about anything besides Rhys’s firm body behind yours. Warm hands gripped your hips as Rhys lined himself up at your entrance, slowly pushing in until you were full of him.

You were panting, struggling to catch your breath as you clenched around your mate’s cock, earning a hiss from him. Rhys began thrusting inside of you, quickly picking up the pace as he pounded you relentlessly. A hand came down to smack your ass, a lewd moan escaping you at the contact as Rhysand murmured dirty words in your ear. He was hitting the perfect spot every time, overstimulating you without even trying.

“Rhys, please baby, let me come,” you pleaded, and he knew exactly what you needed to tumble over the edge. Dark tendrils held you in place as Rhys continued hitting the perfect place inside of you, his cock twitching as he brought a finger to circle your clit. 

You came with a scream, chanting his name over and over as Rhys came inside of you, the both of you falling to the mattress to catch your breath. You were barely back to reality when Rhys brushed your hair from your face, violet eyes searching yours with concern. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You laughed, pulling Rhys close to you and pressing kisses anywhere you could reach. “No, my love. That was amazing,” you admitted, blushing as you tucked your head into his shoulder.

Rhys pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Well if that was amazing, just wait until you see what I have prepared next for you,” he teased, a dark tendril swiping your core - earning a gasp from you as Rhys let out a dark laugh, setting off towards the bathroom where he drew a bath for you, the evening far from over.

[argisthebulwark]

All Emotion Dripped Away

summary: skyrim men and their red flags <3 gn reader, no gendered terms or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Cicero, Mercer warnings: some unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Brynjolf's inability to commit is maddening. The worst part is that you understand exactly what led to him acting this way - losing Karliah and Gallus at such a young age, Mercer effectively ruining every positive moment they've shared, thinking that he's lost you. You can understand his aversion to committing himself to another person but the knowledge doesn't make it any easier to handle. "Must we put a label on it?" He groans, dragging your chair closer to his. He leans closer, lips only a few inches away - he knows exactly what he's doing. It's his most common maneuver - kiss you until you can hardly think, distracting you from anything deeper. "It's difficult to think with you so close." You breathe, attempting to resist his charm. "Aye, as you've said." "Don't you want more?" You ask, allowing his fingers to creep under your armor. "Why ruin a good thing?" His kiss is full of heat, a promise for more to come if you're willing to forget this conversation.

At first, Miraak's protectiveness was sweet. He accompanied you on missions far from home and fought at your side. Losing Mora's power had only caused him to become more focused on retaining the skills he had. Over time, it grew. You noticed him tagging along on shorter trips, soon finding that even a quick visit to a nearby village for supplies was a two person job. You'd faced dragons and giants, climbed High Hrothgar and aided in the resolution of a Civil War - yet it seemed you couldn't be trusted to walk a few miles from home. "I don't want to risk you, my love." He insists, falling into step at your side. "What if you were harmed? What if you're hurt and no one is there to aid you?" You don't like this almost childish way he seems to view you - once he'd doted on you, though now it almost seems as if he doesn't trust you to walk without some grievous injury befalling you. He's coddling you.

As an outsider, Vilkas had always appeared confident, headstrong, willing to tackle any problem. He's strong and intelligent and well spoken, of course he can handle things. As a partner, you've been surprised by his avoidance. When you were a recruit he had no trouble voicing your many faults, even as his Harbinger he's been critical - but not his partner. Those problems remain firmly within his own mind. You know he bottles them up, stewing on these emotions until he talks himself out of being upset, rationalizing everything. "If you don't tell me what it is you need, I cannot give it to you." You've pleaded with him, desperate to make this work. "I love you more than I can say - please, all I need is for you to talk to me." "There is nothing to talk about."

Farkas' recklessness had saved your ass on many occasions, but as his spouse it left you a nervous wreck. He'd often laugh off your worries before leaving for days, unable to communicate due to clearing out some bandit camp. His lack of self preservation reduced you to a mess of nerves, trying to work through it but unable to stop your eyes from wandering each time a door opened. "It's not a big deal." Farkas pouts, kneeling before you. His armor's all strapped into place and a pack of supplies hangs over one shoulder - he's about to leave again. Your heart kicks into overdrive, fingers shaking when they clasp the sides of his face. "I always come back safe, dear." He reminds you, that easy grin on his face. "Do you not trust me out there without you?" "I'd feel quite a bit better if I were at your side." You admit, staring pointedly at the sword slung across his back. "We do work well together." He agrees, a kiss planted on your cheek before he stands. "But you're the Harbinger, you have more important duties." Of course you did - your duties included paperwork and worrying, both of which were beginning to wear on your nerves.

You can't fault poor Cicero for his inexperience - he spent far too many years alone, no one but the Night Mother to keep him company. Isolation had changed him, left him lacking the knowledge many others took for granted. Of course you love him, you'd fallen head over heels for the fool and never looked back, but your relationship didn't come without it's own trials. He'd never learned the common things to do in a relationship; little things many couples did like dates were nonexistent and he had no clue how a normal relationship was paced. Falling for each other was easy, why hold back? Why not go all the way? It didn't help that his relationship with the other assassins was strained at best - some were friendly, others shut him out entirely. You were the only one he could turn to, the only one willing to share a meal and a laugh with your beloved Keeper. "Listener, will you teach poor Cicero how to love you?" He coos, gently combing the hair away from your face. Your first instinct is to refuse, to tell him that it's too much - but the peaceful smile melts your heart. "I want to love you the right way."

Often, you find yourself what Mercer likes more - being with you or keeping secrets from you. He omits things that don't even matter which only heightens your anxiety on the topic; if he's willing to lie about something as trivial as who went on what job or which client he's meeting with, what else could he be hiding from you? You tell yourself that it's nothing, just a survival trait he's picked up over the decades of leading the Thieves Guild, but it's impossible to ignore. He doesn't seem to enjoy the jealousy it incites within you but you can't quite puzzle out what he gets from it. In the end, it's easier to accept that he merely enjoys keeping secrets. Only the gods knew how long it had been since he'd last opened up to anyone and you were afraid that prying would make him snap shut the little window you've carved out in his heart.

[satanwritesfanfiction]

Paladin Danse x f!reader || Under you || SMUT

Title: Under you

Rating: explicit, smut

Category: f/m

Fandom: Fallout 4

Relationship: reader x Danse (can be read as ss x Danse)

Characters: Danse, reader

Tags/ triggers: smut, pwp, power dynamics in a sense that he outranks her in bos and that's used as a flimsy thread for pwp??, desk time, p in v, doggy, threat of being caught, injury that's basically forgotten halfway through, argument, ooc

Wordcount: 2800

a/n: the first fanfic for fallout and first time writing in a while so its has its issues but we ignore that for the serotonins my boiiii Danse gives me

***

Opening the door to Danse's quaters onboard the Prydwen, you were greeted with his back towards you, broad shoulders covered by his BOS uniform. It wasn't every day you were faced with the realities of him outside of his armour.

However, you didn't look forward to this conversation given how he had left you at Knight-Captain Cade To get stitched up. His disappointment wasn't without merit, you had disregarded that order but with good reason, the civilians were the priority to you, not your own sensibilities of survival or self preservation.

You cleared your throat as you moved your hands to hook at your back. "Danse."You closed your eyes briefly and took a breath. "..Paladin Danse." You stated, keeping the clench of your teeth out of your voice as best you could ad you took the formal route.

He turned to regard you, eyes raking over you in a way that made you feel small before he took a breath.

"Did Knight-Captain Cade clear you?" He inquired, voice void of emotion as the remnants of the battle still courses through him, the images of your body bruised and bloody, the results still shining on the arch of your brow prominently. It's been a few hours and he's kept busy but it lingers on him, haunts him in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Yes." You stated. "Well after few days rest, its honestly not even that bad Danse." You pulled against your shirt to reveal the stitched wound on your stomach, slight redness to the skin but nothing that would cause any worry. "Few days and I'll be back to kicking ass like I never even left."

Danse stood frozen for a moment, hands tightening ever so slightly at the clipboard he was holding at the sight of the exposed skin, knowing he shouldn't feel this way and much less when it was such an innocent gesture on your part when all you wanted to do was set his mind at ease. But the problem was that he had imagined it, had imagined his hands curled around that very skin, indenstations on your hips, on the smooth skin.

He knew his duties and what should take precedence but thoughts sometimes got a bit jumbled around you, feeling something growing in his chest, movement within in a way he couldn't decipher, anger at your actions and fear at your failures which he could argue was because of his role as your sponsor but he knew there was more to it and he should probably create some distance... but at the same time he had been elated when you asked him to accompany you on your outtings.

"That's.. uh that's good. "he stated, averting his eyes for a moment to think as he cleared his throat. "We still need to discuss your performance on the battlefield today, (Y/n).“ he took on the professional demeanor as he placed the clipboard on a nearby surface.

"I understand." You stated as you moved a few paces in his direction.

"You failed to follow a direct order." He stated. "You know what I told you when I chose to sponsor you. You are my responsibility and I can't have you-" he sighed and ran his hand over his face as he boiled at the thought. "You have a duty to this team."

It was definitely not an opportune moment as you watched him chastise you to feel the warmth in your body, the firmness in his stance, the power as he spoke. The brief flashes of when he carried your body to safety. Your attraction to the man was your own issue to deal with but it always creeps up when you need it the least.

You had imagined it was the lack of action that had you so wanton for the man but after a few nights with your hand between your legs with his name on your tongue and even a few drunken nights in goodneighbour, you had come to the conclusion that there had to be a little more to it than that but even so, the knowledge didn't stop the way you felt weak with his attention solely on you, it didn't stop your gaze from lingering or the butterflies in your stomach as his voice carried within the room.

You swallowed. "There were civilians, Danse. I could not let them be another casualty of war."

"You shouldn't have disobeyed." He stated firmly, brows furrowed as his voice raised slightly. "We would've-"

"They would've died." You interrupted. "You can't expect me to watch that happen when we could-"

He was always softer when it came to you, he knew that, he would wager that you knew it as well. He dismissed and even ignored many actions that might've seemed harsh in anothers eyes but nothing quite like the action he would commit when his lips met yours, a quick action that his mind couldn't quite compute but at the same time he felt vindicated. An entirely unprofessional offense against much of what he told himself and how he arrived to behave but you felt so real with his hands pressed to the side of your face, so soft pressed to his lips, so warm and pliable when you didn't pull away.

"You need to learn your place." He whispered against your lips as he pulled away, hands falling to your hips and pressing into the flesh. So many thoughts circling that were both impure and against the ideals of the brotherhood when it came to subordinates and colleagues.

You bit into your lip as you looked up at him, not quite the place you saw the conversation moving but it was definitely not unwelcome, just surpising and a little distracting with the way his fingers pressed into you, causing your brain to play catch up and wonder if this was real or not and whether you could push forth in the direction you desperately wanted to go.

"Are you gonna show me where that is?“ you whispered, breathe feeling like it was sucked from your body as you anticipated his reaction. Damn the pulsing between your legs that could have you on your knees in front of this man with a mere motion, a mere sliver that he wouldn't reject it.

He was quick to move you after the question, pressing you against the desk and hovering above you as a few small objects from his desk tumbled to the floor.

"Do you want me to?“ he asked, searching your expression for any sign of discomfort, wondering if he read the situation wrong, part of him wanting you to be the one to stop this so he didn't go against any of the bos ideals but hoping to whatever merciless god was out there that you wouldn't.

"Yeah.."you said softly, pushing through some forced confidence as you cleared your throat, meeting his eyes with a new form of what you hoped was seen as assurance. "Yes."

He pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as his eyes stayed trained on you, an act that felt soft and intimate in the way silence fell until his hand slipped into your hair, grip tightening and crashing his lips to yours once more. You gave as fervently as you got, hands pressed to his chest.

His own hand lingered at your chest, fingers gripping the hem of your shirt and easily pulling it over your head and then came the bra, frustration evident as his need for you grew. An array of pushing and prodding as the frustration lingered in veins at the limitation the pieces of cloth supplied.

Finally he manages to push the small piece of clothing from your body to some place on the floor, watching you sit on his desk like this with an expression that anyone would call wanton. His hand cupped your breast in his hand, watching as you worried your lip between your teeth at the action. Softness even in sound when he ran his thumb over the bud.

He had been gentle in the journey to get you somewhat undressed but he hadn't forgotten the comment that lead him here, the boil within his blood at the thought of your actions and the unobstructed sight of the wound now before him. The image of you had not been enough to still the turmoil within him. The kindness he valued in you was the thing that would disregard order and yourself which brought him to this bridge but he could easily show you order, power, even show you your place as he had said. He would not be entirely wrong to say you place was under him but perhaps not in the sense that he would like and would enforce tonight.

He quickly undid the button of your pants, hands wrapping around your hips at a lingering thought, the need growing within him, a grip that lingered but didn't alarm you as he pulled you towards him but then a sudden shift as the direction changed, as he flipped you around, using his body to press you to the desk, hand pressing against against your upper back until you took the position he wanted. The new position added an ache to the wound on your torso, slight hiss that you doubt he even heard.

The desk was cool against your breast, anticipation as you kept yourself pressed to the surface, eyes looking behind at the man and only feeling the anticipation and want grow as his eyes travelled across your body.

"Such disobedience." He murmured as his hands slid down your back, fingers hooking in the waist and of the pants and pulling it over the curve of your ass along with your underwear. "Perhaps I had been too lenient with you." He stated, a tone that didn't quite match the content as his hands spread over your ass and squeezed. He lowered himself over your body, chest ghosting over your back as his lips pressed close to your ear and his own bulge pressing against your back side so temptingly. "I should correct that misstep, shouldn't I. Show you what insubordination gets you." He punctuated the word with the grind of his hips to yours.

You bit your lip as you spread your legs as much as you could given the pants around your thighs limiting your movement. Needing him to touch you in any way he wished, to use your body just as long as he touched you without all the layers between you.

The press of him eased up when he fiddled with his uniform, fighting to pry it from his body as quickly as possible at the sight of your pliable form. He hadn't bothered further than getting it passed his hips. For a moment he was dumbstruck, so many things he wanted but the uncertainty of whether he would get such a perfect opportunity to enact them made him slow to act, pressing two fingers to your entrance and spreading your slick and shallowly pressing into you to test the waters.

A whimper sounded past your lips as you closed your eyes at the feeling. It had been so long since someone else had touched you and though you had the nights where you had came around your fingers at the thought of him, it was miles apart from this, from his warm fingers spreading your cunt.

"That's a good girl."He commented, watching as his fingers disappear into your needy cunt, glistening in the light when he retracted, soft whimpers spilling from your lips and body rocking back against him softly. You were so compliant like this, such a pretty image that he would definitely be revisiting at a later time.

He removed his fingers from you, earning an annoyed sound and a glance back, he couldn't hide his glee at the state he could leave you in but at the same time, he needed to be inside you, needed you to clench around his cock and take him like you were meant to.

His hand wrapped around your hip, the other going to his cock and lining up. He pushed in slowly, groaning at the wetness until he settled, hips pressed to yours. The situation led you to believe he would give the time for you to adjust, he had always been accommodating and he had taken his time with pushing into you but he had other plans, other wants to allowed him to bypass that courtesy.

His hand slipped into your hair and tightened, pressing you to the desk if you just so happen to get any other ideas. His hips snapped, shallowly at first as he got used to the tightness. You cried out at the feeling, the pain that got dwarfed by the pleasure and he quickly pressed a hand over your mouth to silence your cries as he pressed closer to your ear.

"Wouldn't want anyone to come see what's wrong, would we?" He granted against your back, teeth scratching against your shoulder blade as he momentarily slowed his movements. "This is quite the position for a knight to be in."

Your hand wrapped around his wrist as his hips picked up the pace, closing your eyes as you took what he gave, imagining if someone did walk in, perhaps a scribe or Cade or even Maxson, seeing Danse give it to you, perhaps they could corroborate that this was real because it felt like you were floating, like he was splitting your skull in half and all you could do was think about how fucking full of him you felt. Punishment be damned, you needed them to know Danse was fucking you, that he chose you even if just a momentary lapse.

Suddenly he pulled out, flipping you over like you weighed nothing, you bit into your lip at the full sight of him, bare chest and cock at attention. He, on the other hand, had no notions of taking in the moment, taking hold of your legs and pressing them to your chest so he could get easy access to that tight cunt of yours, immediately pressing home at the first opportunity.

You moaned at the feeling, pressing your palm to your lips given his previous comments even with your own voyeuristic fantasies and the need to have him do it, to control every aspect of the situation, to set the perimeter and feel his hand press to the sides of your face as you just laid there and took it.

He could feel his end approaching, hand pressing and prodding at your skin at the thought of losing access, finally lingering at your clit at the thought of you coming on his cock.

"Hold this." He commanded, taking your free hand and wrapping it around your legs. You did as you were told, glossy eyes watching the man before you and then keening when he touched you, thumb rubbing against your clit in fast, tight circles and you knew you were done for.

"Danse.." you cried, hand slipping from your lips as you moaned into the air, neither of you seeming to care at the moment as his hips snapped into you with renewed vigor at the sound of his name falling from your lips. "Please-I.."

"I know." He stated, interuppting your train of thought. "Be a good girl and come for me."

Again, you did as he asked, feeling the warmth spread throughout your limbs as your walls clenched around him. The cry that left your lips would most likely be heard past his door followed by the mantra of his name as you fought through the intense emotion.

He had to fight to keep moving past the the clench of you, giving a few shallow thrusts before he came inside of you, ropes of his come hitting your walls as he stilled deep inside of you with a grunt of your name.

A few moments passed of heavy breathing before he pulled out, watching as his come slipped out of you which he promptly pushed back inside of you with two fingers which elicited a whimper from you.

Coming back to his sensibilities, he retracted from you, softly removing your hand from your legs and setting them to the floor and pulling you to a seating position. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled your pants back over your hips and then picked you up bridal style, wordlessly. He hoped you were alright, that he hadn't made a mistake by giving into his most base desires for you. He cared for you and he hoped for more than the structure provided under this militarristic life but that was a whole other can of worms.

He placed you in his bed, getting in behind you and wrapping an arm around your middle. He could steal this moment, could he not. If you were to resent him for his actions, at least he could pretend in this moment as you fall asleep pressed to his chest.

[angelyuji]

lost keys

william afton x afab!reader warnings: noncon sex, kidnapping, creepy boss, gross power dynamics, william afton is a murderer, ooc-willy, henry lost charlie, william lost evan, this story follows my own personal canon abt fnaf :) violence, williams a sick sick freak and i want him bad sawry, she/her pronouns for reader

MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

william afton sucked. he was an asshole and a creep, but he was also your boss.

“god he’s so awful.” your coworker whispers as you both wipe down tables. the pizzeria was closing and you both watch as he stalks around, watching everyone. “i miss henry. i hate when ass-ton’s around.” she sighs and you agree. henry emily had taken the last couple weeks off, and rumors spread around that there was a death in the family. you stay silent, eager to finish your work and leave. both of you wince as you hear william shout out orders to one of your coworkers. william comes near you both to inspect your work. he places a hand on your lower back, leaning in to check. you feel a chill go down your back at his touch. you resist the urge to creep away, but as he rubs his thumb against your back, you immediately jump away.

“finish up quick.” he gives you a stare and walks away to the others. your coworker grabs your arm.

“ew, what the hell was that?” she looks at you panicked.

“god, i hate when he does shit like that.” you whisper to her. she whips her head to look at you.

“he’s done that before?” she whispers.

“yeah, like i forgot my hat once and he called me into his office and put the hat on me and like… called me his good girl.” you shudder as you recount the situation. you friend stares at you, jaw dropped.

“what the actual-” she raises her voice, but you cut her off.

“shit, let’s finish up and get out of here.” you panic as he looks back at you both at her voice. everyone finishes their work and chat as they head out. you stand at the front, fishing through your pockets for your car keys.

“what’s wrong?” your friend stops to look at you. you sigh, exhausted.

“i forgot my keys, man…” she laughs at you, before patting you on the shoulder. you turn to head back inside.

“you want me to wait for you?” she calls out as you open the door.

“nah, you can go. i’ll see you tomorrow!”

“you sure? i know ass-ton’s still here. i don’t want to leave you alone with that creep.” her eyebrows furrow as she remembers what happened earlier.

“don’t worry, i’ll be okay. he won’t even hear me come in.” you wave her off. she, hesitantly, waves goodbye and you head back inside. the pizzeria was creepier that usual as you stand alone in the front. you turn to wave to the animatronics, but they weren’t on stage. “he must be doing some repairs…” you mumble to yourself before calling out, “mr. afton? i just wanted to ask if you’ve seen my keys?” silence follows and you sigh, thankful. you head to the employee room to see if you left them there. you walk down the silent hall, your footsteps echoing. you feel the hair on the back of your neck raise as you walk down the dark hallway. you pass ass-ton’s office and you see the light on. you quietly pass by his office, not wanting to get interrogated by him. you turn the knob to the employee room and quietly go in, the door squeaks and you wince. you spot your keys on a table and grab them. you feel relief flood your veins, happy to go home.

“(y/n).” you jump, startled at the voice. william stood at the door, an edge to his tone.

“mr. afton! ha, i don’t know if you heard me, but i- uh- i forgot my keys.” you lightly slap your forehead, nervously laughing. he doesn’t move from the entrance. you don’t move either, feeling something wrong.

“if i had known that all it took were some keys to get you alone…” your boss chuckles darkly. he starts to walk closer to you and you back up, panic setting in. you notice something in his hand, glinting in the darkness.

“oh god…” you see the knife and put the pieces together. you realize that as he walked to you, he stopped blocking the door and you make a break for it. you try to sprint around him, but his hand lashes out and wraps around a chunk of your hair. you scream and he pulls you to the ground, your head throbs. he’s on top of your legs, holding you down. william cackles as you scream, he tries to bring the knife down into your stomach, but you hit him as hard as you can wherever you could reach. shocked, william stumbles off and you run down the hallway.

“THERE’S NO WHERE TO RUN, (Y/N)!” he screams after you. you hear his thundering footsteps follow and you run into the first open room, slamming the door shut. he bangs on the door for a couple seconds before stalking away. you breathe out a sigh in relief. you turn and hold back a scream as chica and bonnie stares back at you. the smell hits you suddenly, the stench of iron. you notice the blood dripping to the floor from the cracks in the robots.

“oh… oh god…” you cover your mouth with your hands, feeling tears drip down. you inch closer to the blood, but before you could inspect the scene, something smashs against the door. the doorknob falls off and you stare, unable to move. you watch as the door slowly creaks open. your boss stands in front, staring at you. he’s gripping a knife in one hand and you notice a hammer dropping to the floor with a thud. you try to move, but knowing you could step in blood stops you. swallowing, you choke out, “blood.”

william smiles, warmly, “a means to an end… though, i did enjoy hearing them scream.” you choke out a sob, paralyzed as he steps closer to you. he stands, looking down at you, inspecting your face. he takes a hand to brush strands of hair behind your ear. his hand was cold as it grazed your face. you flinch, feeling the tip of the knife poke your stomach, and his smile widens. “so pretty…” he whispers as he leans in, close to your ear. his hand grips the back of your neck and he pulls you close to lay his head in the crook of your neck. you stand stiffly against him. “i’ve had my eyes on you for so long. cute little face, so… innocent.” you can feel his breath on your skin and your skin crawls.

you hiccup and you feel him chuckle, “what- what do you want from me?”

“what do i want from you?” he pulls away, “(y/n), i want relief.” he brushes his hair back and puts a hand on your waist, affectionately. you don’t respond, looking for a way out, and he continues, “i’ve lost so much… i need something for myself for once. these kids…” he gestures to the suits, bleeding out onto the floor. you feel your stomach drop.

“k-kids?” you feel like throwing up as you see a tiny tuft of golden hair peeking out from chica’s suit. “you- you killed these kids?” you back up, but step into blood. “oh my god…” you feel yourself gag as you feel the squish of your shoes. he comes closer to you and you’re forced to back up into the desk. william grabs your arm, tightly squeezing. you look back at him.

“at first, it was just supposed to be one… a test. but, it was just so… fun!” you see a manic grin crawl up his face. his pupils were blown wide, “hearing their screams, how easy it was to make them shut up, how satisfying it was shoving them into the suits. that was a last-minute idea by the way.” horrified, you try to move, but his hand tightens. “i mean, when i killed henry’s brat, i had just left her out there in the rain. i didn’t think to hide her somewhere, which was my mistake.” he shrugs, “but these two?” he gestures to bonnie and chica, “i planned better.” william laughs. you break down. you were going to die, just like these poor kids, alone and afraid.

“are you going to kill me too?” you whimper out as you sob. william had taken a breath, so he could continue his speech, when he heard you.

he coos as he cups your face, “oh no, sweetheart. no, no. i couldn’t kill you. i mean, if you had just not ran earlier, we’d be at home, but… plans change.” his hands drift down to your waist before it travels under your shirt. you panic, realizing what was happening.

“no no no, please, i’d rather die.” you try to shove his hand away, sobbing harder. william rolls his eyes and waves the knife in your face.

“would you really rather die? cause i can make that happen for you and ill keep your corpse warm to fuck.” he shrugs.

your eyes widen, “you’re insane.” you sob and he puts the blade to your neck.

“if you really want to die, than go for it.” he presses the blade into your neck and you hold your breath. a moment of silence passes between the two of you as he waits for you to kill yourself, before he tilts his head, lowering the knife, “that’s what i thought.” his hand moves from under your shirt to your head and yanks your hair. you yelp, and william turns you to face his desk before shoves you down to lay flat on the table. you wheeze as you hit the table and william trails the knife down your leg. you lay, afraid to move, as william tugs your pants down to your ankles. his knife traces your skin, before cutting into your underwear, and you feel him press himself against your ass. “so beautiful… i knew you’d be perfect for me.” you can hear the smile in his voice and you feel a chill of disgust go down your body. you hear him unbuckle his belt.

“please, mr. afton, i’m begging you. i won’t tell anyone, you can just let me go.” you sob as you feel his fingers slide over your slit. he hums, disappointedly, seeing how dry you are. he tosses the knife to the side and you hear it skid across the floor, before hitting an animatronic.

he ignores you, “i wanted to make this feel good for you, wanted to feel you clench around my cock, but i’m not gonna waste anymore time.”  he pulls you back using your hair and taps a finger on your lips, “open.”

“fuck y-” he shoved two fingers into your mouth before you could finish. you gag as he pulls you back against his chest, shoving his fingers deeper. you choke around his fingers and he moans. he pulls out his fingers and see them slick with your saliva. you take advantage of the new position to try and elbow william but without missing a beat, he grabs your arm and twists it against your back. he pushes you back down. you scream, pain throbbing from your shoulder to your arm. he keeps his hand pressed against you, keeping your arm held back, as he drags his fingers down your slit. his rough fingers sent tingles down your spine and you grit your teeth to hold back any sounds. you feel his fingers push into you and you choke out a moan.

“all that running and screaming just for you to be clenching around my fingers.” william pulls his fingers out and you whimper.

“you’re psychotic.” you grit out, arching your back.

he laughs, “i know.” you hear his pants hit the ground and you press your cheek against the desk, sobbing. you feel the tip of his cock rub down your slit before he pushes in. you moan, unable to hold back, and william moans with you. “you feel so good, sweetheart.” you feel a warmth spreading throughout your body as he thrusts into you, pausing for a second. his other hand rests on your hip, squeezing.

“fuck.” you choke out as he fills you, his pelvis pressing against your ass. you feel him lean forward and pull your shirt back to expose your shoulder. his lips press against your shoulder, lovingly. without thinking, you lean back into the soft kiss and hear a soft hum in your ear, before teeth pierce your skin. you scream as william bites down into your shoulder, he lets go and pulls out till the tip of his cock is still in. his hand leaves your hip to rub his thumb on the mark he left.

“you’re so good to me, (y/n)… i should’ve done this the moment i saw you.” his hand goes back to your hip and he lets go of your arm, before snapping his hips back against you. you moan, unable to hold back as he pounds into your sweet spot. you feel your toes curl as the pain of the bite and the pleasure he’s giving you starts swirling. you grip the desk as it shakes, he fucks you with no care for your pleasure, but you feel something building up inside of you. “my good, good girl…” william moans as he feels you squeezing his cock.

“feel… feel so good…” you moan as you feel the pleasure numbing your head. you feel a wave of pleasure rush through your body and you let out a silent scream, vision blacking out. william feels you gush around his cock and he pushes in once more to the hilt, before filling you full. you lay there, exhausted, feeling his cum drip out onto your thighs. you shiver as william takes a finger to scoop it and push it back into you.

“cute.” you feel a jacket cover you up and you let yourself drift off. you feel him left you into his arms and murmur into your ear, “i’ll wake you when we get home, sweet girl.”

[coldflasher]

still thinking about my post from the other day about eobard making barry the flash about a decade earlier, when he's still a teenager, so he'd be easier to manipulate. and then obviously i started thinking about where len would be in this scenario because i'm unwell and i have permanent leonard snart brainrot :)

assuming barry's 13 in this AU and we're sticking with the same age gap, len would be around 30... so then i started thinking about how different the dynamic would be, with a lonely barry who's being increasingly isolated by eobard, right in the thick of the most tumultous time in his relationship with joe, because he's always sneaking off and coming back all busted up and lying his head off and acting all cagey and exploding with temper every five minutes---except while joe thinks he's just a traumatized kid acting out and having a hard time at school, really he's off every night being "trained" by eobard and then being pitted against fully grown adult metas... though i do think i'd make at least some of them the same age as barry if only because imagine the ANGST of barry getting his powers, thinking he finally has one up on his bullies, and then the other kids at school start turning into metas as well.

i'm thinking specifically of tony woodward—all the pain and frustration and humiliation that twenty-five-year-old barry felt facing up against his childhood bully, now with powers... imagine that, except he's still at school, still stuck in the thick of it with this kid who's made his life hell, except now his bully has superpowers, and so any fantasies barry might have had about kicking his ass now he's the flash and is more powerful than any of the kids at school could imagine? well, forget it, because tony's STILL bigger and stronger than him and now he's now kicking barry's ass outside of school too

anyway i'm getting sidetracked. my point is i was thinking about moody teenage barry and an older len who's faced up against the flash, thinking there's a new player in town, only to discover that the flash is some scrawny punk kid with no one in his corner, and all the adults in his life are failing him, ESPECIALLY this creep eobard thawne who's "mentoring" him. len takes a very dim view of anyone who's getting a kid mixed up in the criminal world, considering his own father did it to him, AND he's just getting skeevy vibes off eobard anyway because he's an adult and better equipped to see through eobard's manipulations, unlike barry, who's doing the infuriating teenage thing of thinking he's sooo mature for his age and knows what he's doing and is not gonna listen to anyone who's trying to warn him that this whole thing is super sketchy and he's falling victim to a predator, but unfortunately he's not gonna realize it until he's a decade or so older and his frontal lobe develops---

and so we have this (platonic bc barry's like 13/14, though barry probably has a lil unrequited crush) coldflash dynamic with them kinda being friends bc len's somehow inadvertently ended up a mentor/support system for this fucked up, scrappy, little meta kid because god knows no one else is looking out for him, and anyway here's a small snippet of what my brain's doing (unedited but whatever we're just having fun and god knows i can't start another insane sprawling AU right now as much as i've been violently chewing on this idea all day, soooo)

Barry picked at the splintered wood on the table. “Eobard makes me feel kinda weird sometimes.”

Len watched him out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Weird how?”

Barry shrugged his birdlike shoulders.

For a moment, Len focused on the map laid out in front of him, considering his next move. When it came to locks, carefully getting them to open up was his specialty. When it came to people, not so much.

He decided to be blunt. “He touch you?”

Barry’s mouth popped open, outrage and disgust mingling together. “No!” he protested, his voice cracking a little. Immediately, his mouth snapped shut, jaw jutting out mulishly, and he glared at Len. “Not like that.”

Len scrutinized him. He was pretty satisfied it was an honest answer. The kid wasn’t a bad liar, given time to prepare, but he sucked at improv; put him on the spot and he crumbled in seconds.

“He’s just… intense, that’s all. About my powers.”

Somehow Len doubted that was all he was intense about. Clearly something about this Eobard creep was making the kid’s spidey senses tingle, and probably for good reason. Len knew his type—there were plenty like him in prison, doing time for their proclivities. And plenty more on the outside who were better at hiding it. Just because the guy hadn’t put his hands on the kid so far didn’t mean he hadn’t thought about it.

“You thought about talking to someone?” Len asked. “An adult?”

Barry gave him a withering look like only a teenager could, then looked him insolently up and down, like he was missing something very obvious. Len gave him a similarly derisive look right back, one with over a decade of extra power behind it, just to show him how it was done. “I meant an authority figure.”

“You mean like a shrink?” Barry scoffed—which was pretty similar to what Len’s response would have been if anyone had made that suggestion to him. “Pretty sure Joe’s insurance wouldn’t cover another one. And we’d have to go out of state. I’ve seen every shrink in the city and they all think I’m crazy.”

“Your Dad, then.” Not that Len believed a guy who murdered his wife was exactly a stellar role model, and clearly Henry Allen was no stranger to manipulation himself, to have the kid so staunchly convinced he hadn’t done it when it had happened right in front of him—but having a father in prison had its perks. Len’s own father wasn’t exactly father of the year, but even he’d have called in a few favours from Iron Heights if he caught wind of some creep sniffing around his kid, if only on principle.

“I’m not allowed to see him,” Barry muttered.

The dark look in his eye told Len that there was little use in suggesting he told Joe. Clearly, they still weren’t getting along.

[deputyrook]

Impressions- 2/? Mark Hoffman x Psychic!Reader

(Repost after I accidentally deleted my tumblr 😭)

PART 1.

You're a reluctant psychic. He's a detective. And a serial killer.

(Can I make it any more obvious?)

Word count: 3498

WARNINGS: Gaslightling, corruption, stockholm syndrome, some drug use (painkillers), blackmail, power imbalance, abusive dynamics, overt threatening, general Saw-levels of horror.

this fic is kind of goofy, because I'm writing it for fun and not taking it super seriously! enjoy 💕

“Mark didn’t hit on you, did he?” Kerry asks over the phone, a note of disgust in her voice, “If he did, I’ll kick his ass. Though… you didn't exactly look uncomfortable when you fell into his arms yesterday. Am I wrong?”

Sometimes, you wondered how Kerry could be so oblivious.

You swallow a handful of painkillers before you answer her, washing them down with a swig of stale soda that’s been sitting out on your counter. 

“He's, what, ten years older than us?” You ask, setting down the can and playing with the cord of your telephone.

“That’s not an answer,” Kerry teases, “And he’s early forties, I think. Hey, I won’t stop you. I'll sure as hell judge you, but I won't stop you.”

The events of the prior evening feel surreal now, in the morning light of the next day. Detective Mark Hoffman hasn’t contacted you, and if you didn’t have his phone number saved in your cell, you would have thought the entire car ride had been a bad dream. 

You can’t help but second guess yourself now- had he ever actually admitted to being an accomplice? What if he was just a defensive asshole, and you’d misinterpreted everything again? The doubts creep in, now that your visions have been chased away, back into hiding in the recesses of your mind.

“Not interested,” you mutter. “I wasn’t feeling great last night, you know that. I barely remember getting home.”

Kerry’s tone sobers at that, and you hear her sigh. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I know you don’t like doing that, but we were completely out of leads.”

“And you still are,” you note, “I didn’t dream of anything useful last night, by the way. Total void.” If you’re lucky, you’ll never have another vision about the Jigsaw murders, though you suspect you’ve been plunged headfirst into the thick of it.

The painkillers will keep the flashes at bay, at least for now. The rest will come to you, jumbled and nonsensical, when it’s least convenient.

“Not entirely. But how are you feeling?” Kerry asks. She’s never been the best at heart-to-hearts, or at fielding your psychic nonsense, but you can hear the genuine concern in her voice for you. You wish you could tell her- the killer she hunts is right there, in the office across the hall, she could be in danger- but with the potential risk to both her and you, it’s just not worth it. 

Not unless you manage to get your hands on some hard evidence of Hoffman’s involvement. 

Years of dealing with a surrealist-nightmare-kaleidoscope for a brain had forced you to become patient. You could bide your time and wait carefully until an opportunity to steal some actual proof arose. Until then, you just had to keep breathing.

“Helloooo? Are you there?” Kerry’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry Ally. You know how I get. I called in sick today, but I’m alright. I promise. Nothing some rest and relaxation can’t fix,” you try to smile, but you can’t hide the exhaustion in your voice. 

“Good,” she says, resolute, “I won’t ask you to come in again. Not unless something else comes to you. But I won’t believe he’s dead. Not yet.” It doesn’t take psychic abilities to know she’s talking about Eric Matthews, nor to feel the regret she carries with her, punctuating her words.

“And you shouldn’t. You know my hit rate on alive-versus-dead isn’t always the best.” Kerry hums in consideration at your words, and after you both say your goodbyes to one another, you hang up the receiver of the phone.

Once again, you’re left in the silence of your lonely apartment- save for your cat, who brushes up against your leg with a purr. He reminds you so easily that it’s not just your life on the line, here. Would Jigsaw ever try to test a cat...? Reaching down to scratch behind his ears, you try to consider your next steps carefully.

But all it does is make your head hurt. You pluck an ice pack from your freezer and lay down on your sofa, holding it to your head with a soft groan.

You must fall back asleep at some point, because you’re woken up from a dreamless sleep by the ringing of your phone. You check your home phone, and then, realizing it’s not the culprit, rifle through your bag for your cell.

“Hello?” You mumble into the phone as you flip it open, blinking awake.

“What, were you asleep? It’s the middle of the day,” Hoffman says.

“I called in sick. Got in pretty late last night, and I didn’t sleep the best,” You deadpan. Without being right next to him, it’s easier to keep your cool and not get flustered.

“We should talk. Let’s get dinner,” he says, “Six-o-clock. You know Eve’s Diner? On Newhaven street- with the neon sign?”

Your stomach drops. It didn’t seem like he was just asking you out politely. When was the last time you got dinner with a man, anyway? His tone is so casual that it makes you want to squirm.

“Yeah, I know the place. It's pretty close by, right?” At least in public, he wouldn’t be able to do anything overtly threatening to you. It didn’t seem like there was any use in arguing with him, or telling him you weren’t feeling up to it. He knows your address, and he apparently knows Jigsaw. That's enough to secure your compliance.

“Good. I’ll see you there, then.” And he hangs up the phone.

Your head throbs, but it’s lessened in severity since the morning. You consider taking another batch of painkillers, but decide against it. If you’re meeting Hoffman for dinner, it might be better to stay sharp.

—

The sight of Mark Hoffman, sitting in a diner booth, would be almost comical if it wasn’t so nerve-wracking. He’s stirring some sugar into his coffee, hunched against the wall, his hair smoothed back neatly and his police badge hanging around his neck. He looks tired, you think, but otherwise like a normal, upstanding member of society- if not one slightly too large and too dour for the diner table he’s seated at.

“Hi,” you say, sliding into the booth across from him. 

He nods toward you in recognition, before leaning back in the seat. Mark looks at you, up and down, in silent surveyance. You stare back, studying him in return. Both of you size each other up, like the other is the dangerous one.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” He says, “And after some more thought, I’m not convinced. For all I know, maybe you’re workin’ with John Kramer. That seems more likely than you being psychic.”

Ah. You’ve gotten this reaction before. When someone, with time and consideration, doubles back to doubt your abilities. You couldn’t exactly blame him for that. Particularly for skeptics, it’s a hard pill to swallow that you have access to senses that they don’t.

Being accused of being a serial killer was new territory, however.

“I’m not working with Jigsaw,” you sputter, keeping your voice quiet. The diner isn’t too busy, and you’re seated in a corner away from other patrons, but it’s still public enough that you want to be careful. “Shouldn’t you know I’m not?”

He squints at you, like he’s trying to figure out if you’re lying or not. 

“You tell me. You said there were four. Jigsaw, Amanda, myself- according to you- and so who’s the fourth? If it’s not you.” He sounds impatient. You blink at him, trying to process where he’s coming from. And then, it hits you. He doesn’t know. 

For a second, you consider trying to play it off like you are the fourth apprentice. Maybe then, he’d trust you more directly with information that you could use against him. But then, you re-evaluate. Lying to a mass murderer was probably a bad idea. Lying to a cop was arguably worse.

“Well, it’s not me. But yeah, there’s at leastfour involved that I picked up on. Four main...signatures,” You pause, before continuing. “So that’s why you want me to tell you about what I sense. Even you don’t know what he’s planning, or everyone who’s involved.”

“I’ve been on this case since the beginning. Of course I wanna know. Especially since you’re out here accusing me,” He remarks, taking a sip of his coffee before continuing, “Kerry didn’t act any different toward me this morning. Good. Keeping your theories to yourself was smart.”

“Yes, lest you start actually convincing me you’re not Jigsaw, let me not forget how you threatened me last night,” You mumble, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively.

“You pouting about it?” He asks, teasing, a smirk just barely edging onto his face, “C’mon. Show me your trick. How do you do it?” He beckons you closer, and you find yourself leaning in across the table. Like you’re sharing a secret with him. 

“It’s not like I’m getting visions of the future, per se,” You try to explain, “It’s more like... hyper intuition. I get emotions, mostly. It’s an extreme version of empathy. Sometimes I get flashes of imagery from the past, present, and future, but it’s usually mixed up so I can’t tell which is which. Mainly, I just trust my gut. Which isn’t often wrong- but my interpretation of what I’m seeing can be off. Has been.”

“Hyper-intuition, huh?” He says, mulling it over, “Tell me something else about me, then. Prove it.”

You swallow uncomfortably. “I uh, need to be touching you.”

Mark raises his eyebrows at you. Before he can say anything mocking, the waitress comes by, filling both of your coffee cups. She takes your orders quickly, as though picking up on the vibe that you both want to be left alone. When she leaves, Mark spreads his hands in a gesture as if to say, do your thing, then.

Gently, you reach out and take his hands in yours. Rough, calloused, and strong. You try not to think about it as you close your eyes, and allow the gate to open for the second time in two days.

The chattering in the diner fades away into the background as your intuition takes hold, clouding out your other five senses like the moon passing over the sun in a total eclipse. First, there’s just darkness. Even the sensation of Mark’s skin against yours fading to a dull buzz. Then, sensations begin to spawn, bubbling up from somewhere else.

From the man seated across from you, you think.

“Strawberries,” you murmur, the taste of fresh, wild berries being the first thing that comes to you, sweet and tart, “I think they were picked wild, by mindful fingers. Yours are older, but never as gentle. Her small hands were always more careful than yours, never crushing the berries like you did.”

It’s a kind, well-loved memory -you assume- the impression coming in easy and unambiguous. The next is more muddled.

“Ah- pain. There’s noise, it’s discordant and loud,” You wince, squeezing Mark’s hands. You tilt your head, trying to make out the source, but all you get is scraps of yelling, fighting, shivering hands, the smell of rain. 

It melts then, into that feeling again. The deep, unending well of misery. Loss, in its purest form. Utter loneliness, vast like an unending ocean.

“It’s like the sun went out,” you whisper, voice cracking. Your heart is breaking. The depth of your pain is nearly unbearable, and it makes you want to pull back and disconnect. “It’s like all the light’s been snuffed from this world. Alone.”

“Yeah,” Mark’s voice confirms, calm, quiet and sombre, “You know why that is, don’t you?”

You frown, hands trembling. The smell of blood rises, pungent and sickening. Blood, blood, so much blood. It smells so strong that you can taste it. Then something else- formaldehyde. The words leave your mouth before you can register what they mean.

“He took her from me,” You murmur hoarsely, a pure conduit for the feeling. Dimly, you’re aware of hands squeezing yours back, too tight.

Then, the rage. The despair. An energy trapped, like a feral animal in an enclosure. Desperate to make things right again, to make the world right, with no way to do it that makes sense.

Trapped, trapped, trapped. Starving. Alone again.

You’re lost in the feeling before Mark’s voice pulls you back.

“He deserved what he got,” he says, and you’re redirected. The sun is still gone, the world is still cold. Justice is a fleeting concept, a principle that isn’t achieved until you make it happen.

The world is so cold without the sun, but he died screaming for taking her. That’s justice enough. 

And then, a finality- a sense of purpose.

"They all deserve it," you say.

You open your eyes, and let go of his hands. Hoffman’s expression is hard to read as you settle back in the booth. The despair still lingers over you, like a chill that’s seeped into your bones.

“That your thought, or mine?” He asks finally. “You must have felt a lot of it over the years. Other people’s pain.”

“Sure,” you reply, “Everyone’s got it. Life isn’t fair.”

“Not unless you make it fair,” Mark counters, “You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve to die like that for what he did.”

“Can you just tell me?” You ask quietly, “So I can get the full picture, no missing pieces of the puzzle. The loss...was your sister? He killed her?”

Mark thinks about it for a second. He looks like he’s going to refuse you, not responding for so long that you wonder if he’s deliberately ignoring you. 

Your food arrives before he answers, the waitress bringing your plates and setting them down in front of you both. Mark's ordered a cheeseburger and fries, the all-American classic diner food; you a club sandwich, though your appetite has evaporated since you've arrived here. And after yesterday, it was barely present to begin with.

Then finally, after you both have started to eat, he speaks.

“My sister’s ex-boyfriend murdered her. Seth Baxter. A sick, abusive fuck. He was convicted, got life in jail. Took a couple of years, but he finally went away for it. Well, he filed an appeal. His new lawyer said that the jury was tainted by the evidence of his history of domestic assaults on women, that the evidence was improperly admitted and ‘prejudicial’ to his case. After five years, the case was successfully appealed... and he went free,” A feeling of disgust and rage twists in you, and you can’t tell whether it’s Hoffman’s or yours.

“So you...”

“Jigsaw killed him,” Mark answers, “Cut him in half. He was already dating someone new when he was picked up. Tell me that's not fair.”

The words hang in the air, and you take them in. You’re starting to learn to read Mark’s face better, you think, because you can detect just a hint of smugness in his expression. You try to determine how you feel about this, but your feelings are still all tangled up in Hoffman’s. Extricating them is difficult.

“So he deserved it,” You say finally, “Jigsaw’s not just a vigilante. He kidnaps people who are- who are addicted to drugs, or who only hurt themselves, and he makes them play in these sick games. It's not right,” You can’t believe you’re arguing the philosophy of Jigsaw with one of the murderers himself. It seems unbelievable.

Mark actually rolls his eyes at you.

“It’s either people who deserve it, or people who don’t deserve their lives to begin with,” He murmurs, “think about it.”

Then you remember the feeling you’d gotten before, at the police station. The deep, dark depths of satisfaction. A kind of beast in the heart, ugly and hungry and grinning. The thought that you might have inadvertently given it some purchase in your own mind freaks you the hell out.

“Easy for you to say,” you whisper, the fear keeping your voice barely audible, “You like watching people hurt.”

Mark doesn’t deny it- maybe he sees no use in doing so, when you already know better. He looks at you coldly, calculating.

“Does it matter?” He says, “Keep your word, and you won’t be on the receiving end.”

You take a sip of your water nervously, looking around the diner. Though still not exceptionally busy, you’ve both nearly finished your food (well, Mark has, you've picked away at yours), and more people are trickling in the door. If you continue to talk here, it may become more difficult to avoid being overheard.

Wouldn’t that be a good thing, for you?

“Let’s finish up,” Mark says, as though he’s been reading your mind, “We can meet up again later. I'm going to ask you more about this mystery fourth person. So keep your eyes open," he pauses, and huffs. "Or closed, I guess."

"And Kerry will be fine?" You ask, insistently, "She's a good person, Hoffman."

"Is she?" He challenges, "she wasn't exactly discreet with Matthews. And she knew he was dirty. As far as I can tell, you're her only friend."

"Oh, and you didn't know?" You snap back, defensive, "If she deserves to be tested, we all do."

Mark stands, putting on his coat. "Yeah. Or most, at least." He replies in agreement.

"Come on," he adds, his hand on the small of your back again. You can't tell if it's meant to be possessive, threatening, or whether he's done it without even thinking about it. Perhaps surprisingly, it doesn't feel as uncomfortable this time around. "I'll walk you home. Wouldn't want anything to happen to you."

--

A worm has been planted in your mind, and it feeds.

Over the next week, you feel more torn than you think you've ever felt in your life. Mark Hoffman's words bore into your mind, repeating over and over, with the echos of his pain piercing through you in random intervals. You flit between feeling angry at the situation you're in, and wanting to go to Kerry and lay it all out on the table, to a strange feeling of camaraderie with Mark Hoffman.

It's a downside you've always had to reading someone, and inviting them in- you feel connected with them, permanently. Once you see through their eyes, and feel what they feel, it's hard for you to just pull away again. A piece of them remains.

It was like you were being tested yourself. By connecting with the worst possible person, you were pushing yourself- how strained could the connection be, how adverse to your own interest, while you still feel like you're on the same side?

You lie awake at night, replaying your conversation with Mark in your mind. Thinking of all the hurt you'd ever felt, yours and everyone's, echoing forever.

Needless to say- you weren't doing great. And the fact that you weren't sleeping well didn't help.

Dreams came frequently after that shared dinner with Mark Hoffman. You dreamt alternately of horrible panic, the feeling of being trapped, and physical pain that makes you wake up sobbing. So many images form in your mind that it's hard to keep track- scalpels, keys, case files, teeth, distorted statues, the smell of antiseptic.

You text it all to Mark as it comes to you. Anyone looking at your text log would think you were both insane.

But still, you tell him your dreams, and he listens. You theorize about the fourth person together, like you're trying to solve the case. You trade tidbits, make suggestions, and rule out others.

You kind of... like texting him.

---

[2:33AM - Outgoing] Just woke up with the image of a blonde woman in my head. I don't know who she is.

[2:37AM - Incoming] could be jill tuck. ex-wife.

[2:39AM - Incoming] Photo Message

[2:42AM - Outgoing] Nope, sorry. Not her.

[2:45AM - Incoming] i thought maybe she was the 4th

[2:47AM - Outgoing] Blonde woman didn't feel like the 4th. Looked like a scientist of some kind? Idk. Wearing a white lab coat.

[2:49AM - Outgoing] I also got a red room with a bunch of pictures. Like Polaroids maybe? Hung up I think. Not sure if it was connected to the blonde woman.

[2:50AM - Incoming] that ones a red herring. already happened

[2:52AM - Outgoing] Ugh

[2:56AM - Outgoing] How long is this going to last?

[2:57AM - Incoming] what

[2:59AM - Outgoing] You keeping me as your pet psychic

[3:00AM - Incoming] you think i'm planning to stop?

[3:01AM - Incoming] you'd better get used to me.

[3:02AM - Incoming] remember. delete these.

[3:04AM - Outgoing] Yeah, yeah. Do you ever sleep?

[3:05AM - Incoming] when i'm not being woken up by txts

[3:08AM - Incoming] lets meet this weekend

[3:08AM - Incoming] I want to show you something

--

--

(author's note: the true dynamic is emerging! and yes, I had to go on a little sidebar on how seth baxter's sentence could have actually been reversed. i'm a prosecutor, I can't help myself.)

TAG LIST: @icarusinstatic @honimello @haven-is-happy @thebrideofcaliban

NEXT CHAPTER

[yallemagne]

Every time I see someone claiming you can't ship Wolverine with anyone because of Wolverine's age, I'm just like "I think maybe you might be stupid. You should get that checked."

Age gaps are only toxic when they create a toxic power dynamic. Wolverine's age doesn't give him an advantage over grown adults because they have the same relative maturity. He doesn't lord his age over the people he has romances with. Honestly, I struggle to imagine how he could use his age to his advantage in a relationship because it's not like his maturity matches that of a theoretical 200+ person. He doesn't even act like, say, 100. Calling him a creep for having feelings for a thirty-year-old woman? You are the one being weird there, infantilizing a grown-ass person.

There's definitely some ships that I'd side-eye you for, but the problem with those isn't the numerical difference in years, it's the difference in maturity and the pre-existing dynamic between the characters. Younger characters he has taken a mentoring/parental role with? No-go. But see, I would have the same conviction if he were just 40.

[oh-for-fic-sake-library]

A Stuffy Called Geb Chapter 1

Masterlist

Summary: It was your turn to help train Matt , and as usual the kylo fanatic was quick to bring up the magnificent supre leader, who you actuallyheld in high regard yourself. Bonding ensues, but you might have gotten a little too comfortable with Matt and over shared some personal embarrassing details about yourself. But it could be worse? I mean it wasnt like the leader of the first order was going to find out or anything... Right?

Warnings : DDLG, Age play, Anxiety, fluff, homour, swearing, closet little trying to make a friend.

A/N: so i cant get the idea of daddydom!kylo finding a little hidden within his ranks. I love ddlg dynamics and really do think kylo has a soft nurturing side thag in canon he hates. But what if he had an outlet? One single person he could fawn over to get it out of his system so he can be a hard ass on everyone else?

Wordcount: fairly short for me.

You entered the break room, cautiously crossing the space making sure to wav out of everyones way lest you become the butt of another joke. You managed to arrive at your destination; the caf pot. You moved quickly grabbing a fresh cup silently praying there was some actual caf left on the pot, and that it was still warm. Luck had to be on your side as the pot poured hot fresh caf into you cup.

"Oh thank the stars for that" you muttered before moving to place the pot back down. Only to pause when another cup emerged from behinde you. You yelped slightly, not hearing anyone creep up beside you, and nervously turned hoping it wasnt one of the bullies you unfortunately had to work with. But you were pleasantly surprized. Instead of a Jake or his little posse of ass kissers and assholes there stood the tall handsome yet clumsy newbie called Matt.

You flicked your gaze up faltering slightly. You drew a deep breath. Oh yeah you had Matt with you today. Not that you minded, you just werent the most social. But then again years of torment and bullying by your peers would do that to you. You calmed yourself somewhat and craned your head up higher and higher realising once again just how over whelmingly big he was. He was huge, in every aspect. You smiled up at him trying desperately not to screw up a chance to possibly make a freind.

"M-morning Matt. Caf?" You offered whilst busying yourself popping three sugars into your caf and stirring. Matt eyed you carefully before nodding quietly.

"Morning, yes caf please." he answered in his usuall awkward yet slightly demanding tone. But his eyes locked onto you, staring at you intently, a slight quirk to his brow. You smiled anxiously youd worked with Matt only once and that was when youd found him abandoned by karen in the corridor and decided to help him fix the little blunder he'd made on the calcinator.

"So i dont know if youve been told already, but today your with me" you anounced quickly pouring out a cup for him and handed it over trying to ignore anxiety building inside of you. You really didnt want to mess up and have another colleague laughing at you behinde your back. You had to act normal. Just be calm and normal.

"Oh good, i want to avoid Karen" he added following you away from the caf pot to let the others get to it. You flicked your gaze around noticing the others were sending you side eyes and smirking at you. Clearly they were waiting for you to make a fool of yourself as usual.

"We all do. Shes err, difficult. Well we dont have much for today but you sir are a lucky duck~ we are working in the rear star destroyer dock today and the finaliser is finally scheduled to dock there. Isnt that cool? Were gonna see her come in" you babbled nerves getting the better of you. He always made you nervous, he wasnt like he seemed? He had a strange aura. Powerful, stern, authoritative. He felt like a; no. No way. There was no way Matt was one of those. But god he was definitely huge enough to make you feel little. Fuck. That was a dangerous thought, now all your going to imagine is how easily he could man handle you if you were a brat. Shit.

"You like the finaliser?" Matt asked following you out of the break room grabbing your tool bags from the small cubbies by the door. You looked down and shrugged embarrassed by the way he said it. He'd noticed your odd enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sorry i get too excited. Ever since i was a kid I'd wanted to see a star destroyer." You uttered twiddling your fingers in the strap of your bag.

"So do you like star destroyers in general or just the finaliser?" He asked this time in a less abraisive tone. He sounded careful, gentle. Nothing like the matt youd seen before now. You looked at him confused by the change but offered him a small smile.

"All of them i suppose, growing up stories of the old empires fleet and stuff? I could never get my head around them. Their just so huge and stuff; even now i get excited just seeing them" you explained slightly dejected knowing youd made a fool of yourself. But still a little thrown off by his change in demeanour. He seemed to back off? The stern prickly aura tht surrounded him mellowed out. It was nice, like he was reassuring you in some unspoken way.

You couldnt help glancing up at him nervously, trying to figure him out. If anything he didnt seem to mind your small outburst, he just carried on wth the conversation as you both walked the halls towards the elevators like getting over excited was a normal thing in the first order. You flicked your gaze away quickly before he caught you staring. Fuck. He didnt look like he thought less of you for getting all giddy over something so small.

"I understand that. They are awe inspiring, an engineering marvel" Matt's lip quirked ever so slightly when you perked up again beaming up at him bouncing back from your self doubt quickly.

"Exactly! We might even see her dock if we're lucky; did you know its the first time shes coming in to dock since the supremacy? Shes never been on the supernova before" you chirped happily scanning your pass at the faster maintenance elevator.

"Soo you take this rag and slip it over the clamp and just pop it here... no this way, remember righty tighty... your right; thats it. Then that way the pannel cant spring back and catch your fingers" you explained leaning over to hold the spring loaded sliding door back out of matts way so he could place a clamp in front of it.

"Huh... Thats alot easier" he uttered with a grunt as you released the hatch door letting it meet the clamp and stay open without risking any fingers.

"I take it the others didnt show you that trick?" You sighed with a frown as he marveled at the now secure hatch door for a second.

"No, i caught my fingers alot see?" He growled, one eye twitching in irritation before holding his hands up showing you a few nasty bruises and small cuts where these finger death traps had clearly pinched him. You winced hissing through your teeth

"They are all bullies, dont let it get to you. They think their hot shit because they work on the supernova now. But like its not that hard you know? Its a big ship they need tonnes of us here. Personally I'd rather work on her" you reassured him with a light pat on the arm before flicking your eyes to the huge ship that was docked no more then forty feet from you.

You shook your head, shoving the longing from your mind before peeking into the hatch useing your torch to dig around for the problem.

"Ah. Jakes handy work." You uttered spying the issue. A lower voltage cable haphazardly bridging two connectors. Luckily you had some of the correct sized wire spare this was a common issue.

"Hmm? How do you know that?" He asked with a frown not likeing the way you didnt sound surprized by a mistake. Like this was a regular occurrence.

"He always uses this for everything. This sector needs thicker cables for the higher voltages going to the star destroyers. He doesnt like carrying it down here because... well im not sure why to be honest" you explained moving over to show him the problem wire. You ended with a shrug but pulled back from the hatch to dig around in your bag.

"All we have to do it replace this small section and it shouldnt short anymore, lets get to it" You said over your shoulder as you began pulling things out of your bag to get to the replacement wire.

"Now see these wires are already stripped? We just smoosh them together and then twist, it makes the most reliable connection... good job! Now we tape it" you instructed watching Matt work the electrical components and secure it in place. Luckily Matt had picked up alot on the job and had not only disconnected the useless wire, but replaced the connecters either end just to make sure everything worked.

"So why are the others so nasty to you?" He asked out of the blue as he tightened the two screws securing the plastic safety cover on the open wires. You stuttered at him before shaking your head deciding to pretend you didnt know what he was talking about. But he sat up fixing you with a single look making you feel like a kid caught in a lie.

"The others, they avoid you unless they are tormenting you. Why? You seem... competent and pretty harmless, actually nice" he pried again this time not giving you any room to deny or deflect. you sighed defeated, slumping on the spot feeling pretty pathetic.

"You noticed that? Well they are bullies" he frowned at that it was the second time youd called them that. This time he was determined to get to the bottom of it,his eyes grew colder. You shuddered. This man? There really was something about him. Something completely feral yet contained? He just had something dangerous about him. But not in a 'im big and we both know i could crush you' way. It was? Darker, refined, pronounced. Honed.

"But why?" He coaxed again, his voice growing sharper. You got the distinct feeling he wasnt used to asking a second time. And most certainly never had to repeat himself a third time.

You swallowed dryly feeling a tense curiosity grow between you both. He wasnt going to drop this, you might aswell tell him so he can laugh at you and be done with it.

"A few things, as you noticed i tend to get excited quickly, sometimes i say things without thinking? They also know about my past failures... And well they found out about my hobby and i became a joke" you trailed off hoping he'd get the hint from your vague answers and leave the conversation there. But he didnt instead he seemed to perk up his gaze intensified.

"Hobby? Not many people still have hobbies in the first order?"

"I know its sad right? Just because we work here doesnt mean we gotta be a bunch of faceless boring old farts" you covered your mouth quickly but the words hd already escaped. Fuck, why are you like this? The one time you could really use a thought to mouth filter it failed again.

"So whats your hobby?" You did a double take before frowing confused. Why did he care?

"I err well i make clothes for dolls and stuff" you mumbled, mixing your words a little bit. Some part of you still waring you this was a bd idea nd he was just going to make fun of you for it. The other more submissive part reasoning he wasnt the type to be refused.

"Dolls?" you cringed at his tone, he didnt sound creeped out, or as if he was about to laugh in your face but he sounded off? Strained? As if he'd been anticipating something like that but had hoped youd say something different.

"Yeah it started when i was a kid... When the first order took over my home planet the the job market crashed especially when the first order began conscripting kids" you paused for a moment gauging his reaction before deciding you should elaborate more.

"There wasnt many options for anyone i got conscripted but I failed the physicals and at the time couldnt read so failed the IQ tests. But my reaction time was quick so they wanted to train me as a pilot but i got terrible motion sickness. In the end they said i was useless and dumped me back home. I failed to be worthy of any resources" you recounted trying your best not to sound pathetic or depressed. But honestly being dumped back home for being useless really did a number on your self esteem for a good few years.

"The only other careers i could try once home were prostitution, serving girl, seamstress or try to abandon the planet and join the resistance. I became a seamstress because it meant i could learn to read patterns and stuff. Luckily because of my small hands i was ideal for making clothes for infants and smaller races" you added proud of your achievements. Although they were small you had done it all by yourself, no schooling or first order academies. Just you in your tiny bunk studying at night.

"But how do you get from illiterate seamstress to first order engineer?" Surprisingly the question didnt sting, nor was it harsh. He seemed invested in hearing how you actually ended up here. It was flattering in a way.

"Oh i had to learn to read as part of my apprenticeship; for patterns and stuff then i learned how to fix the machinery in the warehouses, i was the best person for the job because again small hands" you giggled raising your smaller then average hands and wiggled your fingers at him.

"I could reach where others couldnt when the sewing and press machines died. Then the first order came back to the planet looking for those with mechanical skills, they were desperate. We were taken to the supernova in its early days; just after snoke died and the commander becme supreme leader. I was trained up to keep things running smoothly while the more senoir engineers were sent to the more technical sectors" you ended your tale there wasnt much to say after that, youd gone through training and been assigned to your sector.

You moved to the open hatch and began loosening the clamp prompting matt to catch the door and let it slide shut without capturing your fingers.

"And why did the others laugh at you? I mean you just make clothes?" He pried not letting you escape his initial question.

"Yeah... its everything really? They already think Im too childish and get mysel upset or excited easily. Then they found out about Geb." You grunted, cursing yourself for letting Gebs name slip through knowing that this was going to be the point he began to ridicule you.

"Geb?" You nodded without looking up at him while making yourself busy by collecting your toold and playing your own game of tetris tryingnto fit everything neetly back into your bag

"Yes he is... he's a small bear stuffy, i brought him with me to remind me of home and i make all my outfits for him and dress him up. I made him little first order uniforms and tropper armour and stuff."

"You dress him up in uniform?" He asked his face breaking out into a grin. Though you couldnt tell if he was trying not to laugh or not.

"Yeah but not just officers and stuff; hey you like the supreme leader right? I did him" you changed the topic quickly, hopeing bringing up the man would send Matt into a kylo ren ted talk and get yourself out of the metaphorical hot seat.

"You made geb a kylo ren uniform?" He reiterated slowly as if needing to say it to let it sink in. You eyed him curiously waiting to see if he was offended on the commanders behalf or not. But when he finally chuckled you relaxed before gushing over the small bear you loved.

"Yeah i even did a little light saber too and and his helmet is removable and a little hood on his cloak oh oh and he has his little belt but the best part is his little fluffy ears poke out through his mask and stuff he is so cute, Geb's lived in it since i made it" you cooed letting yourself getting carried away explaining the little outfit youd spent almost a week creating. Matt beamed at you nodding along encouraging you, enjoying the show of pure innocent adoration. But stunned you into silence as he cut through all the talk with one single question.

"You think kylo ren's cute?"

You sputtered quickly glowing red as the huge man chuckled down at you almost cooing sweetly in a very un-matt way. Clearly something about all this had tickled him pink. He looked pretty smug actually. Good lord you hope he wasnt really freinds with the big man, youd die if any of this got back to him.

"Wha; err no. I err i dont err well maybe? I've never seen him in person; not close up anyway but i? I suppose he's probably cute; handsome? I dont think he'd like the word cute but handsome is good i suppose? But I meant Geb is cute... his fluffy little ears poke out the top of his kylo mask" you began scratching at your head lightly, trying to figure out how to get out of this with at least a shred of dignity. If that was even possible. It took your around three seconds to start talking yourself in circles nervously, your thoughts warning you not to insult your beloved leader 1. Incase matt lost his cool about it like he did at lunch the other day and 2. Well if matt was close to the kylo? Youd rather the leader of the first order knew you thought he was hot instead of cute.

"What do you think about kylo ren? You must like him to make an outfit for Geb" ah theres the matt you know and love. Thank god you thought youd lost him for a second there.

"Well yeah. I think he is a good leader, hes a smart tactician and skilled. Hes an astounding pilot and a frightening warrior;"

"You think he's frightening?" You frowned at the indignation in matts tone, the way he tensed and became clearly aggravated made you falter, why was he offended?

"Well dont you? He's so soo big, but then again so are you so you probably dont think he is scary; but to me your both soo huge!" You questioned blinking up at him curiously. Wasnt Matt scared of the supreme leader? Didnt he hear all the stories? You quickly grew uneasy with the mans simmering stare and tried to diffuse the situation by making a little comparrison between him and kylos impossible hieghts waving your hand at him animatedly. He finally cracked a smirk before tipping his head to the side .

"Your scared of my size?" He teased with a chuckle.

"No, i mean i was at first but now im not. You wont hurt me. But Kylo might if i annoy him and well most people think im annoying. But he is really scary he's stupid strong and people say he gets angry super quick and it just... he is really scary to me. i mean people chuckle about the way he says he is going to surpass darth vader but i think he already has in his own way" your words continued, thoughts and opinions on the commander that youd never shared with anyone pouring from you. You werent a fangirl but you did understand alot more of the subtleties that whent hand in hand with the commander and his abilities.

"You do? How?" Matt was quick to ask, he seemed eager to hear everything you had to say. As if he were glad someone else shared his love of the commander.

"His saber. Its all erratic and static-y, people can laugh about it. But that just shows they have no clue to what it takes to do something like that. That kyber crystal? Its gotta be cracked or something." You explained letting your theory out. Youd never really had anyone to explain this too before. It was actually nice to talk about so ething other than work a.nd food for a change

"How do you know about kyber?" You finched back at the sudden cold demanding tone. Warning? Threat? No, something else. Defensive. but your not sure why?

"I grew up on stories of the old empire. My grandpa was an inquisitor, i know the red sabers are made with bloodied angry kybers" you shrugged trying to play off the uneasy feelings matt gve you.

"You know not even vaders rage and hate managed to damage his kyber crystal. So for Ren to... the power it took to do that?" You spoke up again trying to make him perk up and snap out of the eerie calculating gze he had trapped you in. Luckily praising the commander seemd to do the trick. Thnk god, matt was a big guy, he was scary when his mood soured.

"Exactly! Its about time someone understood!" you grinned as mtt beamed down at you with an oddly fanatic look bout him. He relly did love to commander... it was almost creepy. But he was brightening up gain so you run with it.

"He's already got more going on then lord vader did. I just hope people dont manipulate him like its said they did with lord vader. Ren could be so much more. I mean as long as people dont mess with his head and stuff he'll finish what lord vader started, he has more drive." You summrised, in all honestly it was all true. Atleast in your mind, and thats not to sy you worshipped the ruler, well not like Matt seemed to anyway. But you did hold lot of respect and helthy amount of fear for the man. You secretly hoped youd never come face to face with him, youd probably die from a heart attack.

"You sound like you care for him despite your fear?" You faltered for a moment mulling over his words. You hummed for a moment contemplating your reply. Not just to keep him happy, but also genuinely cpnsideringnthe truth to hois statment. Finally you nodded to the huge man.

"I do. I mean I've never met him, if i did id either wet myself or he'd kill me for doing something stupid... like wetting myself probably" you chuckled trying to add a little humour, wanting to hopefully change the subject soon. You didnt exactly want to get caught gossiping about kylo. The last thing you needed was to give him an excuse to peak inside your mind, god knows what he could find...

"I dont think he'd kill you. You admire and respect him, he'd see that" Matt held your gaze leveling you with a stare, serious conviction that was sobering. Your demeanour changed once more uncertainty washing through you as his eyes bore into you. It was enough to make your head ache. But you ignored the light pressure of an oncoming head pains to continue your playfull facade.

"Like in my head? Oh god thatd be terrible what if he saw Geb? Or worse what if he found out i think hes good looking under that mask and has a gorgeous butt?" You panicked playfully, flushing at the small nugget of truth hidden in your teasing. You breathed a sigh of relief as the pressure receded in a stuttered jagged reversal.

"You've been staring at the commanders butt?" Why did he sound so smug about that? Unless he swings that way? oh maybe thats it? Matt had a crush on him~ that was actually quite sweet.

"Yeah, have you seen the man climb into the silencer? Thats the best butt in the first order! Besides toffee face had the old gnarled and ugly covered right? And huckleberry has the pale and sickly outer rim orphan thing going on, so kylos gotta be the young and handsome" you blushed as Matt suddenly boomed a laugh, holding his stomach as he lost himself in his belly laugh. You watched queitly, you got the feeling he didnt get a laugh very often. It made you feel a little sense of pride knowing youd given that to him.

"Did you just call Snoke toffee face?" He uttered chuckling between words still trying to compose himself. But even when he managed to cease the laughter his grin stayed across his face lighting up his handsome features, almost giving him life eyes sparkling with something youd not noticed in them before.

"Yeah... err dont tell anyone about that; especially the supreme leader and you most definitely cant tell him about geb, or that he has a cute butt! Pinky promise?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously before perking up again and held out your pinky. You froze as you did so feeling embarrassed at showing such childish behaviour. But instead of being put off he smirked down at you, tipping his head forward, raising a hand to hover next to yours.

"Sure, but only if I get to see geb dressed up as kylo" he anounced lowering his voice as he inched forward locking eyes with you. You could only manage to look him in the eye for a few seconds before blushing again brighter and avert your eyes, focusing on the vast open space of the docking bays behinde him.

"Err sure but only if you dont make fun ok? Its bad enough with the others" you mumbled aprihensively nodding to him.

"I wont make fun of you, its nice to see someone recognise our leaders greatness, you idolise him enough to create an efergy of him. Its cute" He smirked curling his pinky around yours sealing the deal with a little shake of pinkies.

Kylo couldnt help the way his body warmed as his mind began twisting itself around the idea of you. This little promise was much more then you realised, he was swearing to himself youd become his. It was only a matter of time.

He couldnt stop. He couldnt erase you from his mind. The tiny naive technician he'd spent the day with. It was rare for him to be so drawn to someone. But you? You admired him, and understood his greatness more then most, understood him more than even he could ever imagine. You belived in him, worshipped him! It had taken everything in him not to reveal himself then and there. To tell you how right you were, how smart he thought you were. But he hadnt. He'd simply left the shift with a spring in his step. The knowledge that someone as sweet and innocent aboard the ship actually respected him was enough to make him giddy. And he didnt get giddy. He'd quickly brought the undercover project to an end after that. Not wanting to endure another day with irritating jobs worths and bitching. And he was far to tempted to smuggle you into the safety of his own chambers. Word got out about the whole thing, and that Matt was actually kylo. Some people suspected as much but by that point he didnt care. He was too wrapped up with thoughts of his tiny technician.

He had suspicions on the type of woman you were. Shy, sweet kind and open hearted. But naive and excitable a childlike quality. something he adored and secretly craved. There was something that pulled him to such a woman. He'd dabbled in erotica, reading up on all types of fantasies during those odd few years after escapeing to the darkside. Suddenly he was free to explore in that respect. Reading kink, watching porn on the holonet and having his first few sexual encounters. He thought it was strange but it was the careing aspect of control he craved more then anything. He had odd tastes in sex had lead him to almost abstinence. He liked being called daddy, loved being much larger then his partner. Feeling needed, having soemone obey him because they trusted him to make the right decisions. He needed someone to be his entirely, someone to absolutly adore him and listen. Someone fun who could brighten up his days. He just wanted one person to give themselves to him entirely without an ulterior motive. But it was difficult to find such a woman aboard the supremacy, they all had plans to ensnare him in some stupid plot to fame and fortune or worse. Children. Sure he was aware oneday he'd have to continue his legacy but not now, not in the middle of a god damned war!

But here he may have found what he was truley looking for in you. He wanted a permanent lover, sweet, small and genuinely innocent. You were unique a gentle somewhat clumsy person with little quirks, enough little quirks for him to wonder if you were indeed a little. He was no expert, he'd only ever really seen and played with littles in the clubs he and his knights frequented when the stress of the military got too much. But you were sending all the signals, maybe he just needed to take the reigns and give a few sharp tugs to snap you into little space. From the looks of it, you wouldnt need much coaxing. Well unless nerves got in the way but a few swift trips over his knee and some playful swats would probably be enough to stop any denile.

The anticipation that quivered inside of him, shook him to his core. Sweet, small, naive and breakable. A little. Fuck. A little here of all places?! Double fuck. Now was not the time to find that kind of gem! But then again who was he to kick a gift horse in the mouth? For such a rarity to wind up here of all places and land in his lap like that must be a sign from the universe? You must be a reward, you were perfect! And you were his. He just had to draw you in. He needed a reason to see you, a reason to get you to his chambers. And then he just had to keep you there.

[baalzebubuu]

I was so surprised to find out that you had an Instagram! And I saw that in one of your posts you talked in more detail about how Thanatos and Daphne's relationship was similar to HxP due to their power imbalance (among other things)

And that made me think, what do you think of Poseidon and Amphitrite? Is there something that differentiates them from the last two couples even though one is a god and the other is a nymph too?

OKAY FOR THE SAKE OF MY ARGUMENTS LET ME SHARE CONTEXT AND THESE SCREENSHOTS AS PART 1 TO GET THE TUMBLR BABES TO CATCH UP!!

Okay so my thoughts on Thanatos and Persephone, the more I thought about it the more it became clear to me that Thanatos is seriously absolutely NO BETTER than Hades in any way shape or form, in fact he’s even creepier due to he done so many creepy shit RIGHT UNDER OUR NOSES while we were too busy Hating on Hades (rightfully so don’t get me wrong he sucks in his special little way)

BUT LETS TALK THANATOS.

From his DEBUT he’s always been a Shitty piece of Trash

He Shoved persephone to the side to get first on the train despite having wings , which even if it wasn’t Persephone that’s still a very shitty thing to do. HE IS A NEPO BABY TOO JUST LIKE PERSEPHONE and he’s mad that PERSE is a nepo baby yet he keeps a more bratty stupid attitude that she did.

Then let’s talk about his creepy relationship with Minthe, WHY THE HELL was he pursuing this woman who had a relationship with hades? HIS QUOTE ON QUOTE FATHER FIGURE!?

And they’ve been doing this for a while and don’t think Thanatos and Minthe is better than Hades, he still a thousand plus year old god JUST LIKE HADES , there is still a power imbalance as the god of death and a mortal nymph that could kill her at any given moment.

And while he was on his stupid petty adventure to slander a teenager. A TEENAGER. ANOTHER pink girl who’s likely the same age as Persephone HAD TO KNOCK SOME SENSE INTO THIS THOUSAND YEAR OLD MAN BABY over why he’s even putting this much effort over some pink thing, WHO MIND YOU has the same power dynamic Minthe and Hades had , Minthe was also having money and gifts from Hades, and Thanatos thought nothing yet when Persephone was having her spoils it was a problem.

As a Ship Daphne and Thanatos may have been cute for two seconds until you realize he still older than Daphne by thousands of years and she is still a young nymph , and he is a god with a giant career.and MF didn’t even realize the power he has over her till she brought up that she’s still mortal and he is still a god that could kill her , which even if he would never do that , the OPTION is there for him and he just like the rest of the gods has the power and authority to not have any accountability for it until Zeus when he’s not fucking or lying or being a man baby is in the mood to do some bs punishment on a whim.

In conclusion I believe Thanatos should have the accountability for his creep behavior as hades does

He is a grown ass man in his 1000’s doing the same creepy shit his adoptive Father has been doing and made no attempts at being better till a Pinkie came along and clocked his bullshit.

Also take into consideration Persephone has MADE flower nymphs which ergo makes them Slightly younger or the same age as her , which will lead to creepy assumptions…

[anti-tenten]

TW for fictional nazis I guess???

Low quality scan of Rip is the only one I could find

Explanations under cut

Why two of them specifically:

Looks like a roach or a mosquito (therefore an insect (obviously))

Real treasure if you're into annoying stupid cocky bitches

Blue hair + ahoge

Nazi (adjacent)

German (adjacent)

Skinny bitch (gets called a man way too often)

Ranged weapon

Artificially buffed by a bloodthirsty boss

horny??? (not sure about Rip but there's something sus about her. Giselle is out of question here, cmon)

Fights a protagonist who is also a major cunt

Probably fun to draw but if you say you like them you will get a major side eye

And their dead set fans ARE really weird...

Rip Van anti/propaganda:

Pros:

Cultured

Can sing

Hirano put his entire ass into her design and it's noticeable

Satisfying death

Here to make Alucard look scary and she succeeds

Very androgynous which is uncommon in (semi-) mainstream anime (although seinen surprisingly has more diverse female designs overall in my experience)

We need more freckled characters ngl

65% legs which is funny

Cons:

Very much a real nazi. Like that's her fucking job description. Not some imaginary evil empire inc. A nazi that killed people during ww2 within hellsing universe

The singing gets annoying as fuck

Ugly ass outfit, sorry

Way too loyal to her shitty boss who's even more annoying and even more of a nazi. Sacrificing your life for white supremacy is fucking embarrassing

Giselle anti/propaganda

Colour scheme works well with the rest of her group

Part of a unique to bleach mean girl group dynamic

Interesting powers, especially the Vollständig design and the maho shojo transformation

Indestructible eyeliner

Indestructible herself, only killed at the last moment by a literal son of god (her boss)

Sometimes has funny moments that have nothing to do with harrassment or abuse of anybody (the keyword is sometimes)

Possibly bisexual???

Silly hat, comfortable outfit, the boots are very nice

Helps protagonists to kill her boss later

Regeneration abilities that work on herself and others

Cons:

Necrophile

Traitor. Both to her boss (based as fuck) and to her friends (gross)

Turned her friend into a zombie slave, sexually and physically abused her

Sexually harrassed protagonists

The childish behaviour mixed with very explicit sexual remarks are straight up revolting. Okay Belle Delphine

Smells bad according to one of said protagonists (possibly, maybe it was just to be mean and not true at all)

Loses most of her powers after getting debuffed.

No satisfying defeat. Fought by a creep who is just as bad as her and implied to be killed by her ugly ass boss

Only exists to make trans women look creepy and gross

[crankyweasel]

Second season of Arcane just dropped, and boy am I exited.

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First of all, the only thing I write here is apparently my options and stuff, so sorry 'bout that. So without further ado, lemme share my review on the first act of Arcane season II:

Honourable mention amongst everything is of course the music, tho I can't really believe that they got Woodkid again (gotta love 'em tho),

I gotta give out another honourable mention to the spec ops Enforcer squad that Cait put together. For some reason I wish we got to see moar of them. That, and we got knock-off Vander, but enforcer? He's the highlight of the squad, hands down.

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Runner up is gonna have to be (for me) the weird sisterhood that Sevika and Jinx formed. I didn't expect it at all, but gotta say I'm here for it. I do like the fact that both of 'em were like "well we were pawns... ain't no more bitch". Like the whole first season they hated each other's guts and now it's like "we gotta do some'n about the Undercity situation...bet".

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Next up, we have Heimerdinger adopting Ekko's whole crew. The lil old man just found his place in the Undercity apparently, and it's pretty nice I gotta say. He's a great addition to the tree community centre situation they've got going on,

Continuing off from this, is the whole teacher - protégé relation between Heimerdinger and Ekko. It's nice, it's cute and quite honestly an interesting dynamic.

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Moving on now. I've no clue where to rank this (this is actually not a ranking post), so I'll just put it smack dab in the middle. I GOTTA give immense love to hobo jesus Viktor. Also ain't no one telling me he isn't hobo jesus. His weird godly-hood comeuppance was a whole ass rollercoaster. First we got him butterfly style cocooned (also, comatose I guess), he then reawakened, body moar purple than Thanos, he then proceeded to do a confession a.k.a that whole "affections" thing (the fuck you mean Vik, the fuck we mean Riot?!), moves back to the Undercity and promptly becomes hobo jesus, like the hell? All in all I fucking loved that arc, 10/10.

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Powering the fuck on, in my eyes and opinions, a huge "fuck you" to the one and only Ambessa Medarda. Man does her character piss me off. She is the ultimate player and that makes me tip my imaginary hat to her but that's 'bout it. She is a master manipulator, she's cunning, annoying, I swear if she was an animal she'd have scales and her every opinion/ advice is titled "war".

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Next up on the roster is, the man, the myth, the legend...(drumroll please) clueless Talis himself! This man is so confused and lost CONSTANTLY that it's not even funny anymore. His only guidance is in the form of Mel, he's all over the place and his moral compass is questionable at best. Love this idiot to bits tho,

After blues clues boy, I find it appropriate to mention probably the best part. Which is, the root of all problems apparently...the magic, a.k.a the arcane. Which, as we find out is on acid? I don't know what corrupted amalgamation was that in the chamber but it felt like the arcane was on acid and so was I simultaneously. Suffice to say it was wild, the arcane is wild.

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Before I reach the end of this review/rant thing, I must mention a point that I'm most excited about, and a point that I absolutely hate, so here we go again:

We finally see glimpses of Warwick, which undoubtedly I'm most excited for, because let's be real that beast-man will rock everyone's shit (if he turns out to be a cheap imitation of what and who Warwick is imma be pissed),

I fully and whole heartedly want to kill the old fucker doctor hoodless a.k.a Singed. He creeps me out, gives me slight Dr. Frankenstein vibes (but worse), he's got his fingers in a lot of pies and he's old as fuck but somehow still alive?! Like this crazy motherfucker is 70, someone kill him please!

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And I shall end it with the lovely and incredibly stupid sort of couple VI and Cait! At first I was like, "please don't fight, don't hurt my blacked out soul". Then, in the Undercity I was like "yes! please stay together, trust each other and perhaps love each other", to my absolute shock and miracle it seems like Riot heard our collective cries and made them happen just to rip it all away. I hate y'all at Riot, but man do I love y'all too. Their emotional turmoil rollercoaster was both daunting and electrifying. Suffice to say I loved it.

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That's it, that's all (for now, just wait till the next and then the last act comes out). Thanks for reading this rant, have a nice acid-trip day everyone! Till next time.