#and they once hurt impossibly badly

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Howdy, Syn! Hope you’re doing well. I’ve got a fun little ask for you:

If you’ve got some spare time on your hands, I was wondering if there was a little (non-spoilery) detail in—well, any of your stories, I’m obsessed with all of them—that you really enjoy but don’t think anyone’s picked up on yet. If there is, I’d love to hear any ramblings on it 👀

Have a good one!

This ask is ages old but I’m working on chipping away at my backlog little by little. Since I’m in a pez dispenser debris kick right now, let’s look at that.

I honest to God can’t remember if I’ve discussed this before, so sorry if it’s redundant, but one of the main points of pez dispenser debris is that the conflict is Man v. Self to the exclusion of all else.

Like, to an extent, there’s a secondary conflict of Man v. Society, but that 1) primarily (but not entirely) exists in Izuku’s past and 2) feeds into the Man v. Self conflict by being the primary driver behind both Izukus’ actions.

I decided to eschew any kind of genuine conflict between Izuku and the people in his life because I didn’t for a second want the narrative to get confused by considerations about whether it was safe to have told his loved ones about his past.

I very easily could have chosen to explore a plot line where the people around him feel betrayed or question him. At the very least, Mirio could have had a moment of “what the fuck, man, I’ve spent my whole career being looked down on as the world’s Quirkless hero and you didn’t think to fucking mention you grew up Quirkless?”

Close to the entire class has been vulnerable with him. Todoroki told him about being abused his entire childhood. He knows about Uraraka’s financial traumas. Iida nearly killed that guy the one time. Kirishima made him look at that suspicious bump in the unfortunate place.

These are kids who have spent the past three years in the trenches together. They’ve been in actual, life or death scenarios since the age of 14-15, and the only thing that they could count on was each other. And then here they are, at the very end of it all, and they find out that the guy they’ve been trusting with their back the whole time seemingly didn’t trust them enough to tell them a single detail of his life before they met him.

They could have been a little more conflicted about the revelation. At the very least, they could have questioned deeper how their friend went from 0 Quirks to a suspicious amount of Quirks when they spent their entire time at school with Guy Whose Entire Thing Is Transferring Quirks And Like. Trying to Murder Kids Who Are Specifically Them took personal issue with every single field trip they’ve ever had.

But every single outside POV is like “obviously we can trust him. It’s Midoriya. Anywho I will now be questioning my own character because he can’t be the problem so it must be me.”

If I explored plot points like that, it would have divided the conflict’s attention between Man v. Self and Man v. Man. The plot would have to devote time and focus to resolving Izuku’s issues with his loved ones and regaining their trust, and that would have detracted from a major theme of this fic, which is that this wasn’t about not trusting the people around him. He didn’t tell them because of an internalized issue.

Midoriya trusted his friends with his life. This wasn’t about fear of them rejecting him because he grew up Quirkless. The conflict is with himself.

I also eliminated sources of external conflict by having it all come out to the entire class all at once. I didn’t want to waste plot resources on what Izuku would naturally do in this situation, which is try to hide the little shit by all means necessary and quarantine his very existence. There would be too much time and energy wasted on slowly revealing the truth to select members of the class one by one.

And don’t get me wrong, that could have been an interesting plot—it just wasn’t the one I wanted to write.

This fic is about having to grapple with the part of yourself that is still hurt and angry about it. The part that cannot process the past to the point where you fear it endangers your future. You want your trauma to just go away and not exist anymore, because things are better so it means you shouldn’t have to be them anymore.

The older Izuku wants the younger one to be gone. He wants him to, at the very least, stop talking about what happened in the past and accept the future for how it is, because he doesn’t want to lose what he’s gained. But in doing so he mirrors the denial of self his younger counterpart is being far more explicit about.

Because both versions of Izuku are refusing to believe the other is them.

Young Izuku is doing it in a very literal way. That guy ain’t me. He killed and replaced me. There is absolutely no way I am him. He refuses to accept that there is any version of him who could become like his older self.

But the older Izuku is doing the same thing, just in a less literal sense. Hes almost acting like his old self is somehow legitimately a distinct entity. He slips and says it to Aizawa—stop looking at me like I’m him. The older Izuku wants to just bulldoze over his past and pretend like it doesn’t belong to him, but it just doesn’t work that way.

That’s the conflict I wanted to capture for this fic. Just this absolute refusal to reconcile your past and your future because to do so would require processing the trauma you’ve been through. And so I cauterized off all other sources of conflict, because they’d just detract from what needed to be center stage.

[lesenbyan]

Scientists: want so badly for adult children who are friends with and/or still dependant on parents for money or a roof to be Bad that they are intentionally looking for detriment in the study results

Study results: so overwhelmingly positive they can't actually find the data needed to twist the narrative

Scientists: >:|

[guinevereslancelot]

not my new co teacher being a literal high school meangirl tiktoker 😬

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[unriding]

KINKTOBER DAY 13 — DRY HUMPING. alexis ness x f!reader ﾉ it’s not allowed. he knows this, but he can’t help that it gets a little harder not to claim you as his whenever you come back for more.

CONTAINS — dry humping to wall sex, dirty / filthiest talk at the end, marking, possessiveness, mentions of fingering, face sitting, as well as overstim; secret / prohibited relationship, mentions of multiple creampies

ᘏ explicit smut (18+) — link to sign up for my taglist & to view mlist!

Ness isn’t supposed to be up this late. At this hour, he should be fast asleep with his teammates, rested and prepared for tomorrow’s game. Or in this case, today’s.

The very last thing he should be doing is grabbing your hips to move you back and forth along his cock even harder. You yelp, and he twitches— throbs and smacks against your clit, and the gasp that slips out of you and goes directly into his ear almost makes him cum on the spot.

You had originally told Ness that this would be a one time thing. This kind of relationship just couldn’t be allowed in a place like this. Only one time— and the two of you would go back to being acquaintances the next morning. Like nothing ever happened.

How this managed to become a weekly thing between the two of you is beyond your own understanding. You think that by now, he’s forgotten about the deal all together from the way he gets a little greedier each time he sees you.

The first time, it was only a quick peck against the corner of your mouth. The next time, there was a little bit of tongue.

Last time, it was a series of kisses trailing down your neck and chest.

And today? He’s marking you.

“Sorry,” he rushes out another apology before his lips are back on your neck, and he sucks. Hard. Your eyes widen and thighs clench around his own to suppress the sound that threatens to slip. “Just can’t— can’t seem to stay quiet today. Sorry. Sorry— ‘m trying.”

It’s impossible. No matter how many times it echoes in his head to be quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. Quiet. His mouth doesn’t want to stay shut. Not when your cunt is rubbing up and down his length so desperately.

You feel so good. It’s dizzying. Electrifying. The friction is numbing, and the heat— you’re always so warm. And soft. And absolutely perfect for him. He’s been so, so badly wanting to leave a mark on your neck, just to see how the others will react once they realize who’s been giving you that afterglow so early in the morning.

It’s him— it’s always been him.

He’s the one spending the early hours in the morning with you every week. Chalks it up to a different type of warm-up. He’s the one that lets you ride his face until you gush all over him. The one that lays you across his lap with one hand clamped over your mouth and the other three fingers deep in your cunt to draw a second orgasm from you. The one that lets you use him for your own pleasure— rub your pussy back and forth along his cock until you can’t even stand on your own anymore.

That— all of that— was all him. And he wants them to know. That’s why the second you take a fistful of his hair in your hand and pull, it’s right then and there that he feels his last shred of composure crumble away.

Just once couldn’t hurt.

“N-Ness?!” You squeal when he suddenly picks you up, big arms hooking under your thighs before your back is being pressed against the wall. “Sorry. I’m— just once. Just one time. Please? It’s aching. You’re so warm, please. Please. I need to be inside.”

To his surprise, you agree in a heartbeat. It only serves as fuel to feed his ego a little more, convince himself that nobody else could make you feel as good as he does.

And he’d make sure of it.

He slips inside with little resistance. Bottoms out and the tip kisses your cervix perfectly. You’re so soaked, so warm and desperate to be filled— and he apologizes once again, this time for not giving it to you sooner.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” he’s panting against your chest now, gasping when you hold him tighter against you. If you feel the sweat collecting along his temples, you don’t seem to notice or mind. You only tell him to move faster, go harder and stop holding back so much— and he practically growls at the suggestion. “I will. I will. Just hold tight. Hold tight okay? I can’t— can’t seem to stop. It’s okay, right? You’re okay?”

You only manage to nod with the relentless pace he’s set against you. Barely able to do anything besides cling onto him and squeal, muster up every ounce of strength left in your body to wrap your legs around his body and let him take you the way you should’ve asked him to ages ago.

“Feels so good. Just have to give you everything. If I fill you up, will you leave it inside? Leave it for me, and I’ll clean you up later. After my game.”

Your walls clench around him in response, and he only seems to slam even deeper inside you. Leave it inside? Give the players water bottles with his load dripping between your thighs? Sit and wait for them on the benches and let it form a puddle beneath you?

Just the thought alone drives him to the edge.

“Yeah. Yeah. It sounds nice. If it drips down your legs, don’t bother hiding it, okay? I’ll make sure to give you a new load later. Fill you up until it overflows and spills out all over again. Again and again. Just wait for me. I’ll make it good— I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“You won’t even believe it.”

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 2 — POWER IMBALANCE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — blade, jing yuan, aventurine

— warnings. — fem! reader, power imbalance, oral (fem! receiving), toxic & manipulation, hard syx, dom/sub

⚝ — BLADE

blade feels to you like a storm, his grip on you endlessly overwhelming yet not because he's forcing it on you, no, but because his dependence on you was suffocating.

the stellaron hunter was dangerous, you were very much aware of it, although never pondering on the fact that you were playing with fire here.

his cock slides in between your folds before slipping to your hole, right then, you can feel the hot push of his tip, slow at first, but persistent, burning and stretching you. blade opens you up as you clutch at his shoulders each time, you're certain you can take him, you can't— it won't fit—such always crosses your mind but, you see, your skin was burning and hungry, submitting to him, to his cock sliding in fully— so smooth on your walls, thick inside, searing.

blade clings to you like you’re the only thing tethering him to sanity, and well— maybe you were, he certainly looks at you with an intensity that borders on desperation, a string he needed to hold on to if he wanted to keep at least a little bit of humanity inside himself or else, he’d fall apart.

"you ground me," he murmurs, voice low, his hand searching for your own as he grips it a little too tightly— his neediness haunting as he slumps forward, still thrusting hungry shoves of his cock into you as the rhythm changes just a little, but the pressure was increasing, becoming more meaningful.

in this rare moments, the way his hands tremble slightly when he brushes your hair behind your ear, there’s a tenderness, yes, but you cannot shake off the feeling of being scared of him— were his words the truth? did he mean what he said? would he hurt you in the end or are you really the one to put a light in his dark, twisted world?

⚝ — JING YUAN

jing yuan was always in control, his charm making each and every friend or foe bend to his will effortlessly— and well, you’re no exception. 

frankly, he's used to people following his lead without question, without turning on their own brains, his words were so fittingly persuasive that you barely even notice when you started agreeing with everything he said.

you whine out a breathy, "fuck, more—" as he laps at your clit, the vibrations of his hums and groans making you arch your back into him— you're so sensitive, jing yuan makes you feel all of it with his tongue, all the nerves down there and how muscle slurped and licked a stripe along your slit to tease you, shamelessly moaning against your pussy right after.

"i’m only looking out for you," he lazily mumbles into your cunt, "I know what's ugh—, what's best for you," his fucked out grin disarms you completely as you look down, admiring the view of his hands, big hands, clutching at your trembling thighs before he gives your stomach an anticipatory twist.

he's not forceful though, don't misunderstand, yeah? because simply, jing yuan doesn’t need to be, his self assured confidence made it feel like any resistance would be literally ridiculous. 

after all, his charisma pulls you in, his beauty and face being chocolate box pretty, ethereal and powerful, leaving you wanting to please him too, so badly yeah, to stay on his good side.

⚝ — AVENTURINE

from the outside, aventurine was unable to be read— and even once you got close to him, you found yourself having more difficulties reading him.

his standards were impossibly high, that's for sure, and he never hesitates to point out when you fall short. for some reason he critiques everything you do, from the way you handle the tasks he's given you to your smallest habits, never failing in exhaustedly rolling his eyes with an edge of frustration.

however, wasn't it just amazing how he was always there to clean up the "mess" you made in getting all the tasks wrong, or anything really.

something unmistakable random could happen in your life, even just a favorite item you suddenly lost and aventurine would always be there to help you— like a white knight.

of course, you cannot question him on anything, he was your superior and losing your job would be the last thing you wanted, next to losing the little relationship you've built over the last couple of months with him.

you feels it in your legs, your stomach, your hands, your soul when he touches you— pleasures you.

it's the desire overtaking you first, making you give yourself up entirely to the harsh rhythm of his hips displaying no mercy. aventurine hisses as you squeeze him, the faintness in his head almost making him swoon as your leg tremble and his cock throbs hard in you, the tremulous thrill inside your belly building to a merciless dance.

"i’ll be here, buried right here—" he hums and grinds his hips, his fingers drawing a line on your stomach, up and down, "feel that? you feel me there?"

"not that you, fuck— deserve it," he grunts, cupping your cheeks and brushing a thumb over your lips, "you made so many mistakes today," he breathes while staring down at his cock splitting your puffy cunt.

he adds, "you should be thankful i was there,"

an embarrassed, little sorry was all you managed to get out in return and ugh— the friction of him rubbing against your walls felt absolutely sickening, like you're about to cum and scream any second now.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[4unnyr0se]

Hear me out…asking Kenma and Akaashi to eat it from the back..

❥ eat it from the back | kenma kozume & keiji akaashi

warnings: timeskip! kenma and akaashi, fem! reader, eating pussy from the back (obvs), kenma is a tease and akaashi is a gentleman, fingering, spanking (kind of), mentions of hickeys, bokuto mentioned

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2.1k

a/n: okay i literally hate this with every fiber of my being but i hope u like it nonnie xx

Kenma Kozume

“Hey babe?” you poked your head into your bedroom shared by your boyfriend, the neon red and white lights reflecting off his hazelnut waves. The atmosphere was cozy and quaint, accompanied by the faintest sound of video game characters making attack noises at each other. “I-I have a question if you aren’t busy.” your manicured nails anxiously rubbed against the doorframe, a worrying feeling coursing through your pulsating veins. 

Kenma turned around, placing his cat-ear headphones around his neck. You had gotten them as a joke last Christmas, but he grew attached to them quickly. Your boyfriend was akin to that of a cat, after all. “Yeah, what’s up? Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice laced with a mild concern. You were usually so open with him, never afraid to speak your mind. Why did you seem anxious? Were you hurt?

“O-oh, everything is fine. It’s just…I wanted to try something different, if that’s okay.” you smiled in a feeble attempt to assure him, closing the door behind you. Kenma raised an eyebrow and exited his expensive gaming chair, electing to sit on the king-sized bed on the other side of the room. He patted the blanketed spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder once you were snuggled deep into his side. “What did you wanna try, hm? It’s okay, I won’t judge you.”

You blushed and bit down on your lip, not daring to look into Kenma’s gorgeous golden eyes. Since you started dating, your boyfriend has always accommodated your needs, ensuring you feel safe and secure. Surely he would not refuse you now? “Uh, my friend sent me a video on Twitter and…and it was of a girl getting head from behind. I-if you know what I mean.”

A smirk decorated Kenma’s lips as he pulled you impossibly closer to his chest, the thick fabric of his company hoodie softly grazing your blushing cheek. “Oh, was that it? That’s nothing, baby. You know I can’t say no to your pretty face when you ask for something so simple.” he purred, grasping your chin with his hand. He pulled you out of his hoodie to look into his eyes, molten with a newfound desire and longing. The padding of his thumb pulled on your bottom lip, admiring how pretty you looked when you were so desperate for him. “Can you take those pants off and get on all fours for me, pretty girl?”

You nodded quickly, practically ripping off your pants along with your panties, tossing them in some random corner of the room to be forgotten about. You smushed your flushing face against the silky sheets of the massive bed, your back arching so perfectly for him. All on display, all for Kenma. He growled at the sight, kneading the flesh of your ass between his long fingers. “Fucking perfect.” he groaned, playfully cracking his hand against your skin. “Shit, you’re fucking dripping for me. Do you want this that badly, baby?”

“Yes!” you whimpered, your hands finding purchase in the sheets as Kenma bent down, his fingers trailing your dripping folds. “Please, fuck, please just, just do it!” 

“Okay, pretty girl, whatever you want,” he whispered, placing a teasing kiss on your inner thigh before his mouth landed on your soaked core. His hot tongue slid up and down your folds, mewl after pathetic mewl escaping your lips and being drowned out by the sheets. His hands gripped onto your thighs to secure your position, leaving tiny, fingerprint-sized bruises. His tongue drew playful circles around your sopping entrance, pushing the tip of his muscle in occasionally so he could relish in your surprised squeal.

Kenma indulged himself in you, but that was no shock at all. He was a very greedy lover, and you adored that about him. You tasted like the nectar of the gods on his skilled tongue, his name falling from your plump lips in a broken prayer as your stomach sank further into the mattress, slowly coming undone by his expert oral ministrations. “Shit, you’re fucking shaking. You must’ve wanted this, huh, baby?

His lewd words sent vibrations throughout your body, causing your clit to so painfully throb. “P-please,” you begged, reaching behind you to desperately grasp for his hand. “Need you, please.” Your hand found purchase on his wrist, impatiently dragging it to hover above your soaked clit. 

He choked back a moan as his fingers began to swirl around your clit, pinching the sensitive bud just to get a beautiful yelp to fall from your lips. The way it was throbbing, the way you were so beautifully dripping all over his chin and mouth; you were close. He could feel it. Kenma could tell when you were about to reach orgasm by the way your walls squeezed his cock, but this time it was different. Your body was shaking and trembling, so you were in for quite a ride. 

“Gonna fucking cum, baby? That’s okay, cum on my face. You can do it, can’t you? Be a good fucking girl and drown me, don’t make me ask again.” he demanded, rhythmically plunging his tongue in and out of your entrance. His tongue accidentally-on-purpose hit the most sensitive spot inside your core, causing you to topple over the edge and into complete and utter bliss. You release coated half of his lower face, making the mess Kenma never tired of seeing. Fuck, you looked so perfect like this. Bent over and all spent for him, profanities escaping your mouth as you rode your high so gracefully. 

Reluctantly, Kenma pulled himself away from your drenched lower half, wiping your release from his lips. As you turned around to face him, he smacked your ass. “Sorry baby,” he corrected, standing up to slide off his sweatpants and boxers. His cock leaked with precum, prodding at your entrance. “Did you really think we were done? That’s so cute.”

Keiji Akaashi

Akaashi has been your most trusted friend ever since high school. You were Fukurodani’s manager and went to the same university as him, often spending time with each other for whatever reason you two wanted, be it studying or simply crying over your shitty boyfriend cheating on you. He was always there for you, and you were always there for him. You knew everything about each other, everything, including your deepest, most dark desires.

It began when you discovered (by pure accident) that you had apartments in the same building, one floor apart. It was a shock at first, albeit a hilarious one. Akaashi joked about how you could never get rid of him, like how you and Bokuto were attached at his hip in high school. Eventually, like in college, you spent every free moment with each other. He could be editing a manga panel on his laptop, and you gingerly made him tea, patting his head. His green eyes would always trail to the hem of your top, the hint of exposed cleavage driving him secretly wild. Or how you would wear your sleep shorts constantly because you worked from home, the sight of your exposed thighs making him instantly hard in his slacks. 

One day, the tension between the two of you snapped. Akaashi had you against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands squeezing your waist. His lips molded so perfectly against your own, groaning into your mouth as your teeth teasingly bit onto his bottom lip. That night was filled with passion and longing, a longing that started to brew since the day you decided to become a Fukurodani manager. Since then, your neck has never been free from his hickeys or marks, and Akaashi’s wrists always have one of your bracelets dangling from the bone.

You never kept anything from each other; why would you? You had known each other for so long that you and he were practically in sync—what he did, you did, etc. So when your friend sent you a Twitter link to a video of a girl trembling as she got eaten out from behind, you just had to show him.

“Keiji, look at this.” you tapped him on the shoulder, momentarily distracting him from editing a manga panel. “My friend sent me this. It’s pretty hot, right?” The video was muted, but the woman’s pleasure was so undeniable. Three fingers pumped in and out of her sobbing pussy while her partner secured her position with his large hands, his tongue ravishing her. 

“Yeah, it is really hot,” Akaashi looked at you with a flicker of desire in his eyes, kissing your fingers gently. “Would you like to try that, sweetheart?” He rose from his chair, slightly towering above you. He was so gentle at times you had forgotten that he used to play volleyball. Akaashi was pretty damn tall. You nodded and leaned to kiss him, resting your arms on his broad shoulders. He smiled into the kiss, breaking it for only a moment so he could drag you into the living room. Shrugging off his cardigan and removing his glasses, he gestured to the leather couch. “Can you get into the position like the girl in the video, sweetheart? Face down, ass up, come on.”

You happily obliged, stripping yourself of your shorts and panties instantly. You proudly displayed yourself for him, wiggling your ass playfully with a teasing grin plastered across your beautiful face. “Like this Keiji, yeah? Like when we do doggy style.”

“Exactly like when we do doggystyle, sweetheart.” Akaashi groaned, massaging your ass tenderly. You were already dripping for him, fuck. Were you thinking about this for longer than he thought? “You always look so fucking pretty for me.” his long and calloused fingers prodded at your throbbing entrance, eliciting an impatient moan from your lips. “Don’t tease, baby! Wan’ you so bad, c’mon!”

He pushed his index and middle finger inside your sobbing core, curling them inside instantly. Your walls squeezed about him perfectly, your manicured nails clawing at the pillow supporting your head. “T-tongue! Wan’ your tongue, Keiji! Please…” you whimpered, turning your head to look at him with a flustered and needy expression. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he cooed, quickening his ministrations in your fluttering cunt. “Just doing what the guy in the video did, right? You’ll get my tongue soon enough,” he assured you, squeezing the backs of your thighs lovingly. That put you at ease for a moment until his skilled tongue licked a fat stripe up your glistening folds, earning the most delightful squeal from your throat. 

“Fuck.” Akaashi slowly dragged his tongue up and down your wanton heat, groaning as your slick covered his tongue and mouth. You always tasted divine, like something not of this world. Your thighs already began to shake like the girl in the video, his fingers gently pistoning in and out of you being the perfect finishing touch. “So fucking pretty like this,” he whispered against you, fingers pulling out of your heat to rub against the clit. “I’ve never seen you this needy. Have you always wanted to try this? Hm?” 

You frantically nodded and pressed yourself against his face, wanting more of his wet muscle against your core. “J-just make me cum, dammit! You never tease me like this.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart,” Akaashi buried himself in your cunt once more, tracing delicate circles on your most sensitive part. At the same time, his index finger rubbed your clit too well, the slick from inside your pussy adding a new kind of lubrication. Akaashi chuckled in satisfaction as he felt your orgasm approach, his tongue prodding at your entrance. He plunged the wet muscle inside, slurping noises filling the room of your otherwise silent living area. The tip expertly dipped in and out, running along each of your folds to avoid neglecting either.  “Want you to cum on my tongue, sweetheart,” he demanded, rubbing on your clit at a sickeningly fast pace. “Can you do that for me now? Wanna cum on my tongue?”

Like you were something he had programmed, you became unraveled all over his tongue, your slick release covering his mouth. “S-shit! Keiji, fuck! Oh my fucking god, don’t stop! Holy shit, fuck, fuck!” 

Akaashi smiled as he pulled away from your heat, giving your inner thighs gentle kisses. “You did so well, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you.” He grabbed your hips and flipped you around, pressing his lips against yours in a tender embrace. His tongue flicked against your lips, spreading some of your release. “You taste amazing, can you see?” 

You nodded and collapsed onto his chest, rubbing your head against the wool fabric of his sweater. “Gonna take a nap on you, is that okay?”

Akaashi chuckled to himself and kissed the top of your sweaty head, rubbing his hands down your back. “Of course, baby, get as much rest as you need. You did so well for me.”

have a request? my asks are open <3

[roorreer]

Something something. Making Solas a liar in Veilguard actively brings back a problem they fixed working on Inquisition.

On December 20 2019 VGS posted an interview with Trick Weekes about their work on Solas. This whole sentence is a link so its large enough for mobile but also disclaimer this is before they changed their name so deadname warning.

Here's a transcription I found here which is where i took the screenshots above. Since I know not everyone has 40 minutes to listen to an online radio interview.

I however highlighted the main point since most of you are not reading the screenshots anyway but skimming through. Rant under Read-more. Also bc i try to not be too negative on people's dashs but also i wanna ramble some more.

"But he lied a lot more. And it really weakened his character."

You can tell this happened during the game. Solas lies only once within Inquisition. He says something he can't be vague about and you push him so he lies, badly. He usually tells the truth vaguely. Typically Solas lies no more than Blackwall.

I fully believe that if in Inquisition your inquisitor figured out that Solas was Fen’harel and asked him bluntly to his face he'd confess. He might even be impressed. But why would you ever start to think that. No one assumes that their coworker is actually Poseidon regardless of how much they love the beach and ocean.

He hides in your expectations.

You can't ask him about being an ancient elf or being Fen'harel of myth because those aren't very probable. They're astronomically low to be truth within that universe. And outside, no one finished DA2 and went i wonder if one of our next companions is the Dread Wolf. Sera said, impossible things can't be surprises. He doesn't have to lie so when the truth comes out it's becomes obvious on a second playthrough.

They then actively bring back a problem they fixed in Inquisitions development. That they were open about fixing. That having a character that outright lies to you makes you have no intention of even hearing out the character. It retroactively undercuts Inquisition bc i see people trying to find Solas' lies in it when they aren't going to find any beyond the court intrigue.

It undercuts any lore we do get from Solas bc people dismiss it outright as being a lie from Mr "I abhor blood magic". I feel like shaking people's shoulders like no, dont do it.

They retconned him guys i have proof from 2019.

And its like if you hate Solas is this even satisfying? Like that's not Solas. His motivations are gone (that's a whole other post) and so is his core personality trait. It's like they went here's the Dreadwolf but during the ten years they replaced the smug asshole who was insufferably right with a 20 yo senior chihuahua that doesnt have any teeth.

My favorite villains are those that tell the truth. Because nothing hurts more than the truth. Can you imagine if he told you the truth. If he told you horrible things that you dismissed as lies to only be true. Wouldn't Varric’s death have more weight if he told you Varric was dead only for you - for everyone - to see him in the Lighthouse. If it was a spirit who took his shape to help you or even because it saw something worth reflecting in your memories.

So you dismiss him until it's revealed near the end oh he was telling the truth and you have an oh shit maybe he was right about other things but its too late to try and stop any of the truths he told you which could be from allies/companions betraying to stuff about Ghilan'nain and Elgarnan.

Like the only way to redeem Solas was to listen to him and by going out of your way to address problems he sees and you can find the alternative to tearing down the Veil by a series a little puzzle pieces throughout the game.

Have it be he will only listen to you if you listen to him. That he'll reject your other solution bc why the hell would he trust you if you couldnt extend the same.

Like Solas couldve been a great villian and he should've been great for both the haters and those that liked him. Not only the romance but for those who became his friend. Like i keep coming back to if i hated Solas would i be satisfied with Veilguard.

And the answer is no because that isnt Solas.

Tricking him has no weight bc he's an idiot in Veilguard like not even in the ending bc doesn't notice you switch the dagger around like right in front of him but none of his actions make sense. Ppl have mentioned the regret prison makes no sense for Elgarnan and Ghilan'nain bc they don't have regrets.

Attacking Solas has no weight because he literally needs the shit kicked out of him by a dragon for it to even begin to work. They literally need him to be at deaths door before its realistic that Rook could take him in a fight.

Redeem has no weight bc of the massive retcons to his motivations. They had to retcon the post credits scene bc even if Flemythal went hey i don't want you to do this Dai Solas wouldve went okay but that doesnt solve my other problems with the veil including the corruption of spirits and the fact its in literal shambles so i guess is still coming down.

I'm just disappointed. By the end of Trespasser they had a great villian and they just tossed it to the side and reverted him and people are arguing about a character who's sole defining trait in Veilguard is a problem they solved before Inquisition launched.

Basically we can sum it up with a screenshot.

[hazzashouse]

Hii, I hope you are doing great !

I saw that your requests are open and I was wondering if you could write something about y/n not being famous and she is not accepted and treated badly by Harry’s celebrity group of friends which will put to test her relationship with Harry.

Thank you so much, and happy holidays !! 💕

A/N: This was such a fun request to write! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed putting it together. It’s a mix of angst, fluff, and a lot of emotion. Thank you for trusting me with this idea, and I hope it resonates with you!

Triggers: Emotional manipulation, unkind behavior, insecurity

Pairing: Harry Styles x Female!Reader (Y/N)

Word Count: 2,167

You knew it wouldn’t be easy.

Being with Harry meant stepping into a world so far removed from your own that at times, it felt like you’d fallen through the looking glass. It wasn’t that you doubted your love for him or his love for you—it was undeniable, unshakable. But you weren’t naïve. You knew his fame came with its challenges, and the hardest one wasn’t the paparazzi or the scrutiny from strangers on the internet. It was his friends.

They weren’t all bad, of course. There were a few who made an effort to get to know you, to see you for who you were beyond the label of “Harry’s girlfriend.” But most of them… most of them didn’t.

Tonight was one of those nights.

The party was at one of Harry’s favorite spots in Los Angeles, a sleek, exclusive venue where everyone seemed to glitter with a level of confidence and beauty you couldn’t help but envy. You’d been nervous from the start, clinging to Harry’s hand as he introduced you to people whose names you struggled to remember.

“Just stick with me, love,” he’d said earlier that evening, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It’ll be fine.”

And for a while, it was. Harry stayed close, his arm around your waist as he guided you through the room. But then he was whisked away by someone wanting to discuss music, and you were left standing near the bar, nursing a drink and feeling utterly out of place.

That’s when the whispers started.

At first, you tried to ignore them, telling yourself you were imagining things. But the pointed glances, the half-smirks, and the subtle head tilts in your direction were impossible to miss.

“Does she even know who she’s talking to?”

“She’s cute, but… I don’t get it. Harry could do so much better.”

“She looks so uncomfortable. It’s kind of painful to watch.”

The words stung, each one landing like a small, sharp jab. You kept your head high, determined not to let it show. But when one of Harry’s friends—a model you’d met once before—approached you with a patronizing smile, your resolve began to crack.

“So,” she said, swirling her cocktail as she looked you up and down, “how’s it going, Y/N? Adjusting to all… this?”

“It’s fine,” you replied, forcing a polite smile.

“Must be overwhelming,” she continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “I mean, it’s not really your world, is it?”

You clenched your jaw, searching for a way out of the conversation. But before you could respond, she leaned in closer, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Don’t take it personally,” she said, her smile sharp. “It’s just… we’ve all known Harry for years. We’ve seen him with people who… well, let’s just say they were a better fit.”

Her words hit you like a slap, and you felt your chest tighten with a mix of hurt and anger. You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of seeing how much she’d gotten under your skin, so you excused yourself, heading for the nearest exit.

The cool night air was a welcome relief as you stepped outside, leaning against the railing and taking deep breaths. You tried to shake off her words, to remind yourself that they didn’t matter. But they did.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Harry standing in the doorway, his brows furrowed in concern. He crossed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hand coming to rest gently on your arm.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft but urgent. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You hesitated, unsure how to put your feelings into words. “Nothing,” you said eventually, though the shakiness in your voice betrayed you. “I just… needed some air.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed slightly, and you could see the gears turning in his head. “Y/N,” he said, his tone firmer now. “Tell me the truth. What happened?”

For a moment, you considered brushing it off, pretending everything was fine. But then the hurt bubbled up to the surface, and before you could stop yourself, the words came spilling out.

“I don’t belong here, Harry,” you said, your voice breaking. “I’ve tried, but your friends… they don’t want me here. They think I’m not good enough for you.”

Harry’s expression shifted from concern to something darker—anger, though not directed at you. His jaw tightened, and he looked away for a moment, as if trying to rein in his emotions.

“Who said that?” he asked finally, his voice low and controlled.

“It doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, not wanting to cause a scene. “It’s not just one person. It’s the way they look at me, the things they say when they think I’m not listening. They don’t think I’m… enough.”

Harry’s hand moved to cup your face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You are more than enough. You’re everything. And if they can’t see that, then that’s their problem, not yours.”

You swallowed hard, leaning into his touch. “But what if they’re right?” you whispered. “What if I’m just… not the kind of person who fits into your world?”

Harry shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. “Y/N, my world is wherever you are. None of this”—he gestured toward the party inside—“means anything without you. And if anyone thinks they can make you feel unwelcome or unworthy, they’ll have to answer to me.”

You let out a shaky laugh, the weight on your chest easing slightly. “You can’t fight all your friends for me, Harry.��

He smiled then, his expression softening. “I won’t have to. Because once I’m done having a word with them, they’ll know better than to treat you like this again.”

Before you could respond, Harry pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you like a shield. You felt the tension begin to melt away as you rested your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady and reassuring.

“I love you,” he murmured into your hair. “And nothing—no one—is going to change that.”

—————

True to his word, Harry didn’t let the matter drop. When the two of you returned to the party, he made a point of staying by your side, his presence a clear signal to anyone who dared to question your place in his life.

Later, you found yourself sitting on the couch in his dressing room as he paced back and forth, recounting the conversations he’d had with a few of his more tactless friends.

“They’re idiots,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “I told them that if they can’t respect you, they can’t call themselves my friends.”

You watched him, your heart swelling with gratitude and love. “Harry,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Yes, I did,” he said, sitting down beside you and pulling you into his lap. “You’re the most important person in my life, Y/N. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you know that.”

You smiled, resting your forehead against his. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He kissed you then, slow and sweet, as if to remind you of everything you shared. And in that moment, you knew that no amount of judgment or criticism could ever come between you.

Because what you had with Harry was real. And nothing else mattered.

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration 'Choose your own adventure' story

Bunny Hybrid x fem!reader— fingering, light choking, ear play, scratching, marking, teasing

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4

Your body is aching, needy, and nearly buzzing with built up tension. Despite literally just having hardcore fucked your Dragon Headhunter. God, what was this place doing to you? And what did you like it so much? You didn’t have to worry about anything here.

Everyone was just so casually sexually expressive. Somehow that only turns you on even further. The way that all these people could just fuck whenever they felt the need. You wonder how they aren’t constantly going as crazy as you have been since coming here. It’s as if you’re gorging yourself on a buffet while everyone else has nearly had their fill.

Looking around the office it’s like everyone’s basically finished fucking, all of them seemingly going back to work. Though you swear you see some people shuffled under a desk or two. IT Robot being one in particular. His head is thrown back in pleasure and his hips jerk toward the mysterious figure underneath his desk. His eyes meet your own and they gleam brightly with lust. He moans, putting on a show for you, and unintentionally motivating you in the process.

In a place like this, going up to someone and seeing if they need to fuck as badly as you do is all you have to do. The thought has delicious embarrassment coursing through you and you shiver, your pussy spasming and pushing out Dragon Headhunters cum in order to make room for another load. You can totally do this…

Your eyes catch onto Bunny Secretary still conveniently sitting at his desk. His eyes strangely very focused on the file in front of him. But in a flash of a moment they shoot to you before jumping back down and relief floods through your system. It would probably be best to make sure your first attempt at the purest form of casual sex to be a sure thing. Plus he was fucking hot as hell too.

With every step you take you can feel cum dribble down your thighs, your pussy practically begging to be filled again. It makes you walk a little faster toward Bunny Secretary’s desk. Though you do try to not look too much like the desperate slut you are in the process.

If it wasn’t already obvious that Bunny Secretary was watching you, waiting for this moment. It definitely was as the following words tumbled from his plump lips.

“Look who’s finally come crawling back for a taste. And what do you think you want exactly?”

Bunny Secretary stares up at you through his long lashes, the cutest pout on his face as his little nose twitches. He leans back in his chair, somehow trying to act aloof even as he hungrily rakes over your form. For a flash of a moment he glances over your shoulder. Following his gaze you see Minotaur Boss.

You raise a brow, seeing the man sitting behind his desk, brow raised. Clearly waiting for the show to start. You remember Bunny Secretary saying how much he always liked to watch. An idea pops into your head and the corner of your lips quirk up. No, no, if you’re gonna do this, it’s gonna be on your terms. Just you and him. You whirl back around to Bunny Secretary, leaning on his desk.

“I think you know what I want,” you say seductively, your expression clearly suggestive.

Bunny Secretary’s pout gets impossibly bigger. He lets out a small huff, his bunny ears twitching as he shrugs and looks away from you. Acting like he couldn’t care less. But by the impressive tent in his slacks you know he’s burning with just as much need as you are.

“Yeah, well who says I even want you anymore? I’ve been spurned once, I won’t get hurt again,” he says dramatically, placing a hand on his chest that you can’t help but imagine wrapping around your throat. The veins bulging and tensing as he grips you.

His small sniff snaps you out of your thoughts and you meet his eye at the same moment he situates himself at his desk.

“Besides, some of us have work to do. I have to leave the office,” he says, voice clipped. Trying to act as if he isn’t affected by your presence.

“Let me help you. Let me make it up to you,” you purr, leaning even more heavily against his desk. Your full figure so tantalizingly on display for him.

Bunny Secretary raises a brow though his eyes flash with heightened lust. He clears his throat, shifting his hips as if trying to adjust himself before quickly standing. You gaze up at him, a hopeful flutter rushing through your heart and your pussy.

“Oh? You’re gonna have to work hard to make it up it up to me, I need time to heal…” Bunny Secretary whispers, his voice taunting yet seductive.

He leans in closer and a shiver runs down your spine. You can’t stop yourself from matching the distance. Both of you leaning in more and more. Your lips only a hairsbreadth a part and it causes the hair on your neck to stand on end.

“But you can start by helping me take these down to the archive,” he says, breaking the spell of the moment, and flashing a charming smile as he dumps a stack of folders into your arms.

You yelp as a sudden weight is dropped into your arms, your shoulders nearly jerking out of their socks at the force of it. Your eyes go wide, never leaving his, and you can see the smug satisfaction swirl in his irises. His laugh rings out throughout the office as he grabs the other pile of folders and your pussy clenches around nothing at the sound. Fuck, how is he so damn fine? Everything he does sends your body tingling with raw need.

Bunny Secretary rounds his desk, sending one last look toward Minotaur Boss with a small nod, a silent communication running between them. You follow his lead in more ways than one as you both head to the elevators. Glancing over your shoulder you send your own look to Minotaur Boss, a wide smirk on your lips. You send him a wink, letting him know that he’ll be missing this one but maybe next time.

Minotaur Boss jerks up from his desk. You can tell he’s huffing with anger as his expression twists and cinches. His tail whips around behind him as if preparing to charge. You don’t waste another second, turning back forward and walking a little faster toward the elevator.

Bunny Secretary glances at you, noticing your pace and matches it with ease. His long legs carrying him in a way that makes it appear like he’s gliding through the office. The elevator opens up for you almost instantly and it has relief filling you as you catch a flash of Minotaur Boss heading your way.

But then you’re completely zeroed in on the fact that you and Bunny Secretary are all alone in this elevator. Confined to four very short walls. The air stills, silence overtaking the small space. Yet tension crackles within the short distance between you. You’re nearly waiting on the edge of your seat for something to happen, anything to happen. It seems like both of you are waiting for something but you don’t know what.

The ding of the elevator door closing is like a gun firing and the second the doors snap shut, you and Bunny Secretary drop the files into a heaping mess on the floor. You practically pounce on each other, arms wrapping around the other as your lips crash together. A lewd moan falls past your lips as you melt into the kiss, the feeling of his hard body against your soft frame as your mind short circuiting.

Bunny Secretary whirls you around and slams you against the elevator wall. His hand comes up to protect the back of your head and he pulls you in deeper, his tongue flicking along the seam of your lips. You open up and immediately gasp as his hand dives down the front of your pants. He groans, the vibrations shooting through your tongue, as he feels how drenched you are for him.

“Still so wet after being such a naughty slut. Have we not satisfied you here in our humble little city, darling? What will sate your hunger, sweet one? Show me,” Bunny Secretary breathes against your lips as his fingers tease along your messy slit.

Your jaw drops, a low moan leaving her as his digits delve into your sopping cunt. He swallows your moans, kissing you again as if he can’t get enough. You squirm against his fingers, needing so desperately to be filled to the brim. Stretched beyond belief as you have since you got to this city. Bunny Secretary chuckles and your pussy clenches around his fingers.

His fingers slip from your pussy and you whimper at the loss of stimulation, even though you know you need more. Need him. His hand catches onto your clothes and jerks them down, revealing yourself to him. It all happens in a blur, Bunny Secretary moving faster than you can keep up with. He wraps your leg around his waist and before you know it, the thick crown of his cock is nudging against your entrance.

“Hah, we better get started before someone decides they need to use the elevator,” Bunny Secretary pants heavily in your ear.

An electrical charge shocks through your system and your mind quickly jumps to Minotaur Boss. The need and determination on his face as you denied him. But the risk of getting caught only makes you even more wet. Bunny Secretary can feel your slick dribble onto his cock and he almost can’t resist sinking into your wet heat for another second.

“You know, you still haven’t said you’re sorry for making me wait so long…” Bunny Secretary pauses, his aching tip stopping just inside your cunt.

He leans back, raising a brow at you in wait. Your mind is all fuzzy and you can register his words let alone think. But right now you’ll probably say anything to have him. To have this for yourself. Your hips twitch, trying to suck his cock deeper inside your walls.

“I’m so—“

Bunny Secretary jerks his cock inside of you with one rough snap of his hips. Cutting off your words as they collapse into a strangled moan. He smirks wickedly, leaning in to nose at your cheek, rubbing his scent all over you.

“There it is,” he purrs into your ear, his body molding itself to yours as his hips rock into you at a fast pace. You wouldn’t have it any other way as his hard cock ignites your nerves with every smooth solid stroke.

Small whimpers leave you with each thrust, the force of it knocking your body back against the elevator wall. Bunny Secretary’s hand returns to the back of your head as he nuzzles into you, smelling how your scents slowly begin to mix together. Your hands slip underneath his shirt, nails desperately clawing at his back. Marking him briefly in your own way.

One of Bunny Secretary’s fluffy bunny ears dangles close to your face. The hard sway of it every time he ruts back up into you has your body buzzing. You can’t resist the urge to lean forward and nip at his ear. Bunny grunts, his cock twitching inside of you, and he follows it up by sinking his teeth into your neck and picking up speed.

Cries of pleasure freely fall out of your mouth. You don’t even bother trying to hide what’s happening in the elevator. And that’s ok. Because you don’t have to hide anything in this place. You’re just as free as everyone else in the city is and the feeling is… wonderful.

“Oh— nngh— fuck! Just as good as I imagined. Tell me, darling, was this worth the wait?” Bunny Secretary asks, his words muffled by your flesh.

Bunny Secretary pounds his length into your weeping pussy, every bit of stimulation building together into a deep pressure at the bottom of your belly. The ding of the elevator as it reaches each floor heightens your arousal, bringing your body closer and closer to the edge. Wondering if someone will decide to get on at any given moment.

“Y-y-yes!” You scream, letting all the pleasure wash over you for the first time without any hesitance.

Your orgasm overwhelms you and as the elevator dings again, it finally snaps and you cum hard and fast on Bunny Secretary’s throbbing cock. You writhe between the wall and his body as yours trembles with the sheer force wracking its way through you. Bunny Secretary helps work you through it, his thrusts turning sloppy before he grunts loudly and jerks forward, spilling spurt after spurt of hot cum straight into your womb.

He seems to go on forever, his cum filling you up even more, his hips slowing down and rocking into you until his deep pumps start pushing out his own cum. He helps situate you and your clothes as he slips out and releases your leg. You two barely get a moment to breathe before the elevator dings again, the sound slightly off.

You both look toward the door just as it opens. Revealing a very disgruntled Minotaur Boss. His wild eyes look around the elevator and you swear you see steam coming out of his ears. It was clear by your messy appearances that he had missed the show and he was not pleased. He pants heavily and you can only imagine how he looked trying to rush down all those stairs. A scowl quickly overtakes his features.

“What the hell do you think you two are doing? Get back to work!” He shouts, turning away and storming off before either of you could respond. Mostly likely trying to hide the faint blush on his cheeks.

As soon as the elevator doors close again you and Bunny Secretary burst out laughing. You’re in awe by the fact that despite just having such intense sex, there wasn’t a moment you felt awkward or uncomfortable. It felt almost natural and you’re sure as you continue to live and thrive here in Free Use City it will feel even more so. It was nice.

The rest of your work day was thankfully uneventful for the most part. You and Bunny Secretary spent the rest of the day down in the archives which remained otherwise empty. Bunny Secretary was chivalrous enough to offer you a ride home and it was only after you got off his scooter that exhaustion hit you like a train. The ache spreading through your body in an instant. You start trudging your way to your front door when a familiar voice rings out.

“Busy day?” Your Hot Wolf Hybrid Neighbor calls out, a knowing smirk on his face. You laugh a pitiful laugh, shaking your head at him.

“You could say that…”

Hot Wolf Hybrid Neighbor walks up his porch, leaning on the structure and staring out toward you in your yard. He crosses his arms, muscles bulging in his button up. His smile turns gentle and full of understanding. Your traitorous body tingles with awareness and you curse under your breath.

“Wanna come in?”

His invitation makes you pause. On one hand, your body yearns for your bed. It’s tempting to just decline your hot neighbors offer and go inside, set up your room so that you can relax. You have a whole box of toys under your bed you can scratch this tiny itch with if you wanted. But on the other hand… you know what’ll happen if you accept your neighbors offer. You know what he’ll do and you sigh dreamily imagining someone taking care of you for a change. So will you accept his offer?

[writingmeraki]

patch you right up — a r.c drabble.

★ pairing: rafe cameron x frenemy!reader, enemies to ?? ★ genre: hurt/comfort, unresolved feelings. ★ warnings: cussing, mentions of being drunk, violence, mentions of wounds and treating them. ★ a/n : urm very...random, silly, might not make sense but it was rotting in my mind, lmk what you think <3 ★ w.c : 1.1k

“This was very fucking stupid of me.”

Hissing in pain as the hydrogen peroxide made contact with your torn knuckles on your hand, you held your bruised jaw with the free hand and looked away from the blood glistening because of the light above.

“Oh you don’t say?” His voice was mocking, nothing new but it held an underlying annoyance you could somehow detect. 

Sighing, you pulled your hand abruptly, which earned you a sharp turn of his head in your direction and his dark blue eyes glaring at you, “What are you doing?”

“You don’t have to do this-”

“Shut up.”

“No I mean it, Rafe. It’s my fault, ‘ll patch it up myself.”

It did not help how horrible your head seemed to ache as you shut your eyes briefly, everything felt overwhelming, especially with him being this close to you. Him just anywhere near you was enough to drive you a little over the edge and it seemed to get worse when you had a bit too much liquid courage in your system. 

“Look at me.” You hated how easily you complied as you opened your eyes to find him staring at you, only this time, they were much softer.

That wasn’t hard to do, considering the position you were in. On his impossibly large bathroom counter as he stood between your legs, really you didn’t have much to look at. 

“It’s not your fault, alright?” You spited it when people would always give you fake sentences for the sake of being ‘kind’, it was all sugar coated shit to you. But somehow when Rafe Cameron said that to you, your heart felt like it would combust then and there.

It didn’t help how the daziness was elevated as you scanned his features up close. He was unrealistically beautiful, carved gently.

Because he was who he was, you knew he meant what he said. For all the time you knew him, he was one to be honest. About how he felt, about what he felt and for who he felt. Though, when you questioned yourself what he might feel for you now, you’d say you don’t know.

Nodding along to his words, you leaned to your left, luckily having a wall to support you and not embarrassingly falling, you’d done enough that night. 

Without more words, he gently grabbed your hand and finished cleaning up the burst skin and spilled blood. You once again shut your eyes, this time tightly as you clenched your jaw when he applied ointment.

“ ‘hurts.” The treating part made you wince even more than when you were getting the injury. Probably how most of the adrenaline wore out by now.

“I know, ‘almost done.” He gently spoke up as he concentrated on patching up a bandage around your hand.

A quiet silence filled the space for a moment, and even though you did feel out of it, you could sense he had something to say.

“Why-why’d you do it?” He said as he finished with your hand, instructing you to sit up straight. His hand on your jaw did make you more alert even though he was very…gently doing it. It was colder than you expected, and you were sure he could feel how warm you were getting when he was slowly caressing it with a delicate touch.

“That’s outta bruise badly.” His eyes held remorse and his frown deepened. You didn’t even realize your own gaze lingered on his lips.

Gulping, your eyes darted away from his face. Maybe it was the guilt or the buzz, but you murmured out,

“...I- it was well…It was stupid but I- couldn’t control myself. I got mad.”

His hand paused and he raised an eyebrow in curiosity. This was new. 

“They- they were saying stupid shit. I knew they were doing it to rile me and well they did that just right. It was fine when it was about me, I ignored it but I couldn’t stand the rest.”

Something in his chest flared as his confusion was slowly turning into realization but he continued letting you speak,

“They began talking shit about…about you.” You recalled the tone they used, the words they called him and you could feel the familiar annoyance and anger build up as they replayed in your mind.

“And I couldn’t stand it alright. I just…no one talks shit about you. No one except me. I mean, the fucking audacity to even say those…those things when they’re probably even worse!”

He blinked a few times to make sure he heard you right. You’d looked to the side, scowling as you clicked your tongue.

“Next thing I knew, I’d just hit someone and then the same happened to me. I guess maybe I deserved one but you should see the other idiot’s face.” You finally looked back into his eyes, a slight smile on your face when you recalled hearing the other dude’s nose definitely crunching and you were sure it would never be the same. You’d made it very sure.

He did not know what to feel. Amusement? Shock? Disbelief? But over them all, his heart fluttered wildly as his eyes scanned your face. The same one that had been haunting his mind since the first time he’d seen you, the first time he’d ever have someone make him more mad than anything yet made him want you closer. You were simply driving him insane since he’d met you. 

He just never realized, until now, that maybe he was never the only one who felt the same.

Tilting your head, you licked your lower lip, his gaze moving there for a brief moment, you said, “But you know what?”

One corner of your lip turned up as you smirked lightly, “I don’t regret it. I’d do it again in fact.”

His tongue felt heavy as the words clogged up in his throat, he gulped down the knot formed as he clenched his hand that was beside you, over the counter edge. He stared intently into your eyes, you could feel your heart beating faster as you leaned closer. 

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours as you fluttered your eyes shut, hand going over his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. His hands moved to your hips, pressing into them as if he was afraid you’d disappear and it was all a dream.

It was messy as you’d expect from two people whose own feelings were a mess, your non-injured hand ran over his hair and he groaned into the kiss. You might as well have just combusted then and there. 

Feeling the need to breathe, you gently pulled away, resting your forehead on his as his hand came up to your face, caressing it gently.

“You’re fucking insane, you know that right?” He breathed out as he tried to steady his own breathing and rapidly beating heart.

“Over you? Fuck yeah.”

extra a/n : ...yeah I'm sorry if the uhm kissing part sucked...it's been a very whole while.

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | obx masterlist | info !

[mncxbe]

bsd men with a size kink♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊, 𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

the definition of if it doesn't fit I'll make it fit

he loves seeing you struggle to take all of him in your little cunt; pretty face scrunched up in pain as you lower yourself on his cock

he'd be so mean, teasing you until you can't take it anymore~ "bella come on you asked for it baby. aw you're gonna cry? I don't think so baby cmon lemme help you"

he grips your hips and pushes you lower onto his cock inch by inch until he eventually bottoms out, not paying any attention to the way your thighs shake around his waist

"there you go. told you i'll make it fit" he rubs gentle circles on your clit, making you slowly unclench but doesn't move until you give him the go

after all, he wouldn't want to hurt you too badly

𝑵𝒊𝒌𝒐𝒍𝒂𝒊

this sadistic clown is so amused by your struggle. he gets off to seeing you in pain

he'd spread your legs impossibly wide, pressing your thighs against your shoulder as he forces himself inside you

the stretch is borderline painful, fat tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your puffy cheeks but he only laughs condescendingly~ "look how pretty you look taking all of me dove. tight little cunt's gonna milk me dry"

he barely gives you time to adjust before drilling himself inside your sopping pussy, parting your folds with his hands to get a better look at the way he sinks into you

"hm? you crying dove? aw come on now you were begging for my cock just minutes ago"

don't worry tho he's gonna compensate during aftercare

𝑻𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒖

he's by far the sweetest of them all

at first he doesn't believe it when you tell him he's too big but when he sees how much you strain to take him all in something snaps inside him

tecchou never considered himself a sadist yet he can't deny the satisfaction he feels

he makes sure you're laid comfortably on your back before spreading your folds open and coating his tip with your glistening slick

he pushes slowly, eyes glued to the place his cock disappers inside of you

every time you whine he shushes you, rubbing little circles on your clit~ "just breathe with me angel. yea, yea that's it i'll go slow you're doing so well for me"

once he bottoms out he gives you time to adjust; his strong arms are literally shaking, his cock twitching with need as your walls clamp down on him

but once you tell him it's ok to move he won't stop. and how could he stop when your perfect pussy's squeezing him so nicely?

"angel fuck you're so tight. 'm sorry can't slow don't you can take it pretty girl"

[froggiewrites]

pleaseee if you're up for it, another law x reader smut... the first one you wrote was so good and you capture his character so well !!!!! 🧡🧡

Thank you, anon!! I'll never turn down an opportunity to write more for Law 💙 I hope you enjoy!

Stress Relief

Pairing: Law x Reader

NSFW

Summary: Your Captain is working himself to the bone, so you come up with a plan for force him to take a break. Warnings: Smut, AFAB!Reader, Vaginal Sex, Reader's a bit more dominant in this one Word Count: 2.1k

“Law, you’ve been in here for sixteen hours.”

“Okay?” He doesn’t even look at you as his hands move to grab the next paper, which you snatch before he can get it. He doesn’t miss a beat before he quietly shambles another page into your hand, a piece of scrap paper he had been using earlier.

“You haven’t eaten. Or had any water. Or gone to the bathroom.”

“Correct.”

“You don’t see anything wrong with that?”

“I’m busy.”

“You’re also a fucking doctor, Law. You know better. Or you should. I wouldn’t blame anyone for not believing you were, considering how badly you abuse yourself.”

He sighs. “I have a job to do. I’ll sleep when I’m done.”

“You’re never done.”

“Maybe so.”

You roughly run your hands through your hair, frustrated. “I can literally see the vein popping in your forehead. You’re going to stress yourself to death, Law.”

“Is that a diagnosis, doctor?”

“Don’t get cute with me right now! I’m serious! You haven’t slept a full eight hours in weeks, your blood pressure is probably so high your heart is going to burst, you haven’t eaten a real meal in days–” You can’t help the way your breath catches as you continue. He doesn’t care how badly his work hurts him. He’s more than willing to put himself in an early grave if he thinks it’ll bring him even an inch closer to his goal.

He finally looks up at you, eyes softening slightly. “Hey,” he says softly, putting the paper down for a moment to open his arms for you. You easily fall into him, relieved that he seems to have found reason, before he pulls you onto his lap, tucking his chin against your head, and picks back up the paper. “I’m okay, sweetheart. Really. I only have a few more things to do, and then I’ll rest as long as you want me to. We’re in the final stretch now, I promise.”

He doesn’t get it. If you were pushing yourself this hard he would lock you in your room and sentence you to bedrest for days, but he doesn’t care about himself at all. If you don’t stop him, he’ll keep pushing and pushing until he almost collapses.

How can you distract him? Law is stubborn as an ox, though he’d never admit it. It’s nearly impossible to stop him once he’s started, or convince him he’s wrong.

You curl further into him, accidentally brushing your hand against his crotch while adjusting your position, and you can feel the way his heartbeat stutters at the brief contact.

Ah.

Got him.

You press your chest into his, your lips brushing against a spot on his jaw that you know will get his attention. His breath hitches as you grind your hips against his lap, and you can feel how you’re getting through to him.

His voice is tense. “Do you know what you’re doing? Tread carefully, sweetheart.”

You make your voice as sultry as you can. “I know exactly what I’m doing, Captain.” He clenches his teeth as you slowly drag your tongue up his neck. “I’ll do whatever I need to help you.”

“Is that what you call this?” You can feel him try and fail to keep his hand off of your ass, grinding you harder against his bulge. “Helping?”

“Of course it is. You need some relief, Law. I’m more than happy to provide.” Your hand creeps under his shirt, pressing insistently against his chest. “Doctor’s orders.”

He chuckles. “Oh? Did you get your degree since I last checked, doctor?”

In lieu of an answer, your other hand reaches down his pants, and he finally lets out a moan in your ear. He can’t gain control of his breathing, nor can he hide how desperately turned on he is. “Does it matter, sweetheart? I’m right. You need this. You’re wound so tight you might explode. Just let me help you, Law. Please.” You put the perfect amount of whine into your voice, to convince him that he’s really helping you. As reluctant as Law is to take care of himself, he relishes in his ability to take care of you, provide you whatever you need.

“Make it quick,” he murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he finally leans back in his chair. Though he keeps up his act that this is such an inconvenience, you can already feel his muscles relaxing beneath your touch. He needs this, needs you, far more than he would ever say aloud.

“Yes, sir.” You pretend not to notice the way his cock jumps in your hand at the title. Best not to push your luck. Instead you press your lips against his pulse, relishing in how quick it is, and gently pump your hand, making his breath stutter. Your other hand gets to work by slipping off his shirt, and throwing it carelessly to some forgotten corner of his office. You take a moment to admire his toned chest, his beautiful tattoo on full display as you gently drag your fingernails down it, tracing the heart. He shivers, and you smile as you notice the slight tinge of red on his cheeks and how mussed his hair is. He truly looks a mess, despite his best attempts to keep it together.

He cracks an eye open. “Why are you still dressed?” You can hear the hunger in his voice, the desire he wants to deny.

You pretend to ponder a moment, humming softly. “Oh, well, since you wanted this to be quick, I figured I didn’t need to add any unnecessary steps. I mean, you really only need my hands, don’t you?”

You can barely stifle a laugh as he tenses again underneath you, looking affronted. “Just your hands?”

“Well, it’s faster that way, isn’t it?”

He glares at you. “Not the most relaxing, though, is it?”

“Well, the doctor suggested the full experience, but my Captain insisted–”

“Ugh. Fine, take your time.” You barely have time to slide your hand out of his pants and swat his hands away from your chest, narrowly avoiding a ripped shirt.

“Ah, ah, ah! Hands to yourself, mister. I’m the one administering this treatment. Just sit back and relax. I’ll take care of everything.”

He sighs, but he parks his hands at his side.

“Good boy,” you say, beginning to unbutton your shirt.

“You’re pushing it,” he mutters, cheeks turning noticeably redder.

You take your sweet time exposing your chest to him, oh so slowly sliding your shirt down your arms to let it fall to the floor. Instead of taking off your bra, you lean forward, subtly pushing your tits together as you brush your lips against his. His eyes are focused downward, and you can see how hard he’s holding himself back from touching you. After a beat, you decide he’s been teased enough, and you fully expose your chest to him. You can see his pupils dilate as he takes in the sight. He’s always affected by you, no matter how many times he’s seen it.

Your hand makes its way to the button of his jeans, popping and unzipping them to give him a small amount of relief. He’s painfully hard, more than ready for you. You want more than anything to rip his boxers off, to ride him until he’s panting and spent beneath you, but you need to make this last. You need to ensure he’s truly and completely relaxed, melted in your hands, so you can finally drag him out of here and trick him into taking care of himself before he comes to his senses and insists on returning to the grindstone.

You return your attention to his neck, nipping and sucking at every spot you know drives him crazy, sure to leave marks he’s sure to get teased for later. You usually take care not to, but the way he moans quietly in your ear, unable to help himself, you can’t bring yourself to stop. You don’t even notice how you’re rutting against his thighs before his hands catch you, and he barely manages to say, “Not fair.”

You manage to still your hips, realizing you’ve worked yourself up enough your breaths are only coming out in small pants. “No, I guess it isn’t.”

“You don’t sound that repentant.”

“I’m not.” Your hands begin to finally slide him out of his jeans and boxers anyway, feeling a little guilty about your freedom to move while he’s sitting still just as you asked. His hands hook under your waistband, and you look up to see his pleading eyes begging you to let him take them off for you. You’ve never been good at saying no to him.

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief as you finally release him, before taking a deep breath at the sight of you fully naked in front of him. You quietly laugh, still baffled by how enraptured he is by you. “You’ve seen it a thousand times. I thought you’d stop being impressed by now.”

His smile is soft and genuine in a way he doesn’t often let himself be. “By you? Never. Every time is like the first.” He leans forward to kiss you, a soft touch offset by his callused hands pulling you forward, his cock insistently brushing against your thighs.

You bring a hand down to line him up with your entrance, before slowly beginning to slide down on his length. You both let out a moan at the feeling of your walls clenching down on him, the relief of finally feeling the warmth you’ve been desperately craving. You give yourself just one moment to adjust, head pressed against Law’s shoulder, before you take a deep breath and start to move.

You start slow, intending to slowly work your way up, but Law does something you never expected: he begs.

“Please, please move faster. Please, I need–”

“I thought you said–ahh!–I should take my time?”

He damn near whimpers. “You took enough time getting to the good part. Please, babe, please.”

“When you ask nicely like that, how could I refuse?” You kiss him sweetly, softly, before picking up the pace, the room filling with the furious sound of skin slapping on skin as his hips meet yours. Your breaths grow quick and shallow as you continue, your moans pathetically needy, though not quite as needy as Law’s. He has given up on your request that he keep his hands to himself, squeezing and rolling your chest as he leaves affectionate nips anywhere his hands don’t cover. As your fingernails dig into his back, you realize you’re both going to be covered in marks by the end of this. At least you can hide yours.

As though he can read your mind, his mouth makes its way up to your neck. You suppose you’ll both have to deal with teasing tomorrow.

You keep up your pace, even as your thighs start to burn, determined to bring you both to the end. Law stops ravishing your chest to help support you, helping you bounce once he feels your thighs start to shake. You can feel him tensing as he desperately tries not to cum before you, one hand reaching down for your clit to try to help you along.

“You can let go, Law,” you pant.

“Not before you,” he stubbornly mutters, eyes clenching shut in concentration. He seems to have forgotten the point of this whole exercise, too determined to ensure you reach your finish as well. You can’t help the giggle that makes its way out. That’s your Law.

Your pace starts to falter as your legs tense further, and you can feel yourself reaching your peak. Law feels it as well, speeding up ever so slightly to bring you over the edge. You come undone in an instant, moaning as you fall into Law, clenching around him. He finally allows himself to let go, shooting into you as he pulls you into a messy kiss, teeth clattering together in his rush to feel you against him.

You both let yourselves relax for a moment, catching your breath, before Law lets out a quiet sigh. “You wore me out.”

You make no effort to hide how smug you are. “Need a nap?”

For the first time ever, you see your Captain filled with resignation. “Fine. …But maybe we get a snack first.”

You grin. “I think we can swing that.”

You’re kind enough not to brag about your victory until after that nap.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @tochillwithamockingjay

[silverthehedgehogexplained]

Explaining Silver the Hedgehog's character (Updated)

To truly understand Silver's character you need to understand not one, not two, not three, not even four but the ten different cores of his character. Starting with...

A Strong Sense of Justice - The Hedgehog of Justice

Silver is driven by a strong Sense of Justice. This is his defining trait mentioned in almost all character bios. Silver is a righteous person driven to right wrongs in the world and will always stand up for others. This can make him quite Confrontational as he has zero tolerance for injustice or wrongful suffering and will take on anyone on the spot to fight for what he thinks is right. Silver will always settle the score. Silver however doesn't wish to punish evil but rather to simply maintain peace.

Silver's sense of justice is more important to him than nearly any other character as it is the source of his drive and mission to make things right in the world. Unlike other guardian characters, Silver's sense of duty to protect the future is driven entirely by his personal sense of justice rather than imposed responsibility like Blaze, Knuckles and Ariem..

A Determind Optimist

Silver's other most defining trait is his noted Optimism. Silver has a positive outlook no matter the circumstances. During peaceful times Silver spreads positivity and seeks to make people smile however he can and during dark times Silver rallies and inspires hope in others. If Sonic represents Freedom then Silver represents Hope and will never give up no matter how dire or impossible the situation may seem.

Silver's very presence radiates positivity. In Sonic Channel stories Silver is said to engage in Cheerful Activities after the historical change in 06 and have both a "positive way of life that inspires people and makes them want to watch over him and cheer him on forever…" and an "Honest, unpretentious and kind demeanor" that makes him a warm and inspiring influence. This even extends to real life as this illustration by Tomoko Hayane spontaneously inspired everyone in her office to high five Silver on the screen the day it was made. In Sonic Channel stories Silver also has a very warm smile that fills Princess Elise with trust and joy during the height of her anxiety in one story and a recipient can't say no to in another story. (He's low-key a pretty boy)

Linked to Silver's optimism is supreme Determination. Silver will not give up no matter how impossible the odds are or how badly he's hurt, even when Solaris destroyed the entire space-time continuum and was explained to be nigh-invincible Silver simply resolved to destroy him in the past, present and future all at once and roused everyone back into action when they had all completely lost hope. Silver again rouses hope into the Resistance in Sonic Forces when Sonic and Tails were thought to be lost. Silver doesn't give up easily in general as it took 40 tries for him to cut exact Silver cut apple slices. It is this spirit that allows Silver to fight through the hopeless apocalyptic future. Silver's hope, optimism and determination are best exemplified in the Japanese version of Sonic Forces where he says this:

There is hope! As long you don't give up!

A Kind Hearted Hedgehog

Silver is an Altruist. An altruist is a person who is unselfish and concerned for the well-being of others, even if they don't gain anything by doing so. Silver not only has a strong desire to help others but he also has great Empathy for both people and environments and wants to see them in a happy state. Silver loves Smiles, he can't help but smile when he sees other people smile and his greatest joy is making other people happy. Silver wants to make people happy because he grew up in an apocalyptic future that was filled with despair as stated in Sonic & Silver on Sonic Channel. Silver's altruism is not only the motivation behind his mission to protect the future but also the only thing that can make him break from it as he will drop his current mission to help people as he does with Amy in Sonic 06 and the understaffed post office of Soleanna in Sonic Pict as Silver cannot say no to a sad face. Silver's reason for aspiring to become a hero is to be someone that can protect smiles as he states in Sonic & Silver.

Focused On Saving The Future - A Focused Agent

The very first thing Silver is described with in 06 design documents is Focused on Saving The Future. Silver is a driven and focused agent that becomes very determined and serious when it comes to saving the future and dealing with potential threats. Like Sonic's other rivals Silver is very skilled in many regards from skillfully doing various odds jobs in Soleanna in Town Missions to getting one of the highest sharpshooting scores in Soleanna's 1500 year history(Town Mission 6) to becoming a "genius" skating coach celebrity in the Otherworld Comedy series to the general use of his powers(Silver takes offence to being treated like an amateur for a reason). Silver is a veteran fighter from his apocalyptic life of battling Iblis and is able to and quickly learn things he's never done before like Chaos Control and car racing after only seeing them once. Silver trains regularly and is said to make steady efforts to improve in the 2022 wallpaper comedy series. Silver is a Fly/Technique type character so he specialize in technical sports like ice skating, uses a high balance car in Team Sonic Racing and is possibly the fastest flyer in the series as he's able to keep up with Sonic in Generations and is able to fly at light speeds with his Teleport Dash ability. Silver is very Proactive in his pursuits as in the opening of his story in Sonic 06 he states that he always asked people in his apocalyptic future how the world was destroyed but could never get a direct answer, hence why he listens to Mephiles.

Silver is noted to be intuitive and perceptive. He sees through Eggman Nega's disguises by noticing small details in his mannerisms. In Sonic Rivals 2 he turns his fight with Sonic into a race to collect Chao and advance his mission instead. In Otherworld Comedy Act 8 he intuits Blaze trying to control her powers when seeing them for the first time. Silver solves problems through thinking in all of his major game appearances from figuring out how to revive Sonic in the last episode of 06 to uncovering Eggman's plot in Team Sonic Racing.

Despite his naivete, Silver Isn't Very Trusting. His respect and trust has to be earned as he doesn't work with anyone in the Sonic Rivals series until they prove useful to him. In Sonic Generations Silver doesn't trust Sonic as being real and he is almost immediately suspicious of Dodon Pa. While he can take things literally at times the same deception that works on Knuckles won't work on Silver as Eggman learned in Team Sonic Racing. Even when working with Mephiles, Silver did not initially believe in time travel and did not fully commit to his plan until he was physically thrown back in time and still began questioning it after being confronted by Amy, only continuing to go along with the mission after it was reaffirmed by both Blaze and Mephiles as the only option to save the future.

Silver is very Goal Focused and has a Straight To The Point Mentality as part of his forthrightness. He doesn't like distractions, petty details or things getting in his way and prefers to concentrate on his current goals. Silver can also be somewhat Ruthless as he has done many things to protect the future including sneaking past Soleanna guards(Town Mission 11), mugging Tails and attempted assassinations all with little reservation. Despite having something of an honor code against cowardice Silver is also willing to fight pretty dirty such as when he played possum to hit Sonic in 06.

Forthright Purity

One of Silver's original design document descriptors is that he is very Forthright. This actually entails multiple different things about Silver that all deal with his Purity. As his name suggests, Silver is themed with purity as a character with his silvery white colors, youthfulness, innocence and forthright nature. Silver is forthright in every sense of the word including being Straightforward and Honest. Honest to a fault as Silver is so honest that he can't even lie(though he can change the subject as he does in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals 2). Direct and Outspoken as Silver hides almost nothing about himself(he only tries to hide his problems as when he tries to dismiss his worries in TSR as nothing) and speaks his mind as well as Going Straight to the Point as discussed above. This is why in Playstation Magazine Japan, Silver was officially given the birthday May 9th and with it the star sign of Taurus which is associated with determination, directness and honesty. Silver wears his heart on his sleeve and has a certain innocence to him that permeates his character.

With this purity however comes Silver's Naivety. He has a somewhat simplistic Black and White Perspective. Silver can sometimes take things literally and expects people to believe any outlandish things he tells them simply because he knows them to be true. Silver can also be unfamiliar with things in the present due to living in the far future where everything is either long destroyed or far more advanced.

The flip side of that forthright purity however is...

The Brash Antithesis of Eggman Nega

On the flip side of being straightforward and honest, Silver is also Blunt and Rude. Just as Silver wears his heart on sleeve he also has no filter and will say whatever is on his mind which can make him Abrasive and quick to insult. Silver will call you an idiot to your face if he thinks you are one and often trash talks opponents in in-game dialogue(literally calling defeated enemies trash in 06). Silver's rudeness is even more apparent in Japanese where he uses many informal impressions including addressing himself with "Ore"(おれ) and others "Anta"(あんた, the ruder version "Anata") which signifies that he speaks bluntly. Silver often points directly at people he speaks to(This is considered much more rude in Japan) and crosses his legs while sitting in a way that is roughly the Japanese equivalent of putting your feet on a table. Silver acts very casually with others without introducing himself which can be very informal and rude as Knuckles calls out during their meeting in Sonic Rivals 1. This can make Silver even more rude than other brash characters in a technical sense as he's just blunt and acts without a filter. This is a key difference between Silver and Future Trunks who was largely a shy and polite mannered individual.

Similar to Jet the Hawk, Silver is Juvenile both in his age designation and general level of maturity. Due to this Silver can be quite Brash similar to Sonic but even more so due to his aggression and bluntness/lack of filter. He can be snotty, sneering, sarcastic and is even stated to have a mischievous side in the Commemorative Illustration series. Though he is generally humble Silver has a confident, somewhat smug attitude about his powers and is very Competitive. Almost fighting Blaze as they begin one upping each other over who could deal with Orbot & Cubot on their own when they first meet in the Triumph cutscene Sonic Colors DS. Silver is also Headstrong, almost fighting Blaze again when she treats him like an amateur in the Otherworld Comedy series. Despite his share of hedgehog prickliness however Silver isn't a hostile or mean spirited person(as long as you're not in his way or being unjust that is). Just as Eggman Nega being polite does not make him a good person being rude does not make Silver a bad one as he maintains his goal of helping others at all times. When not focused on a mission Silver is shown to be a fun loving, reliable and protective friend. Silver cherishes his friends and is willing to do anything for them. Silver can also be just as quick to praise or call something cool as he is to insult someone and he strongly believes in the abilities of the people that have earned his respect as when he recruits Sonic to help him with the Revival Bridge situation in Sonic & Silver and is genuinely grateful for Espio's help in saving the world in Sonic Rivals 2. This side of Silver can be very similar to Sonic from Sonic SatAM. Combined with his naivety and determination this side can also make him similar to a Looney Tunes character called Henery Hawk. (He's naive but he has a blunt "What's so funny?" attitude about it)

Due to this nature, Silver has bold explosive responses to even the most impossible challenges, stating "I'll show you how crazy I am" when Knuckles calls him crazy in Sonic Rivals 2, "Come on, Espio! We can take them all on!" when confronted with Knuckles, Rouge and Eggman all at once in Sonic Rivals 2, and "If you say it exists in the past, present and future, I'll destroy them all at once!" when facing the impossible challenge of Solaris(He drops pretty hard lines when things get tough). Silver has this attitude against even things that outmatch him such as Infinite's mighty power.

Silver is described as "young and immature" by his creator Shun Nakamura so despite his general seriousness he can still have somewhat childish moments.

Almost all of Silver's traits are also diametrically opposed to those of his Sonic Rivals series nemesis Eggman Nega(currently the only other character from Silver's future), down to the colors they're themed after Black and White.

Silver is Rude and Blunt out of sheer earnestness while Eggman Nega is overly Polite as a form of mind games. Silver is Warm and Pure while Eggman Nega is Cold and Twisted. Silver is Honest to a fault while Eggman Nega is extremely Deceitful. Silver is Kind while Eggman Nega is Cruel. Silver is Naive while Eggman Nega is Sophisticated. Silver is Reckless while Eggman Nega is Calculating. Silver is Practical while Eggman Nega is Petty. Silver desires Peace and Prosperity while Eggman Nega desires Chaos and Destruction. Both are willing to sacrifice themselves for those ends in ways that seem crazy to other characters.

Riled Up - A Passionate Emotional Beast

One of the descriptions for Silver in design documents, Riled Up, alludes to Silver's highly emotional nature. Silver is a High Spirited person that is also emotionally immature.

Like Blaze, Silver can be Easily Angered and have a pretty Wrathful Temper. However unlike Blaze who is repressed in her feelings, Silver has no filter and can get loud or carried away when he is overly angered, excited or saddened(He's autistic...) which can primarily be seen in his animations and dialogue in the Olympic Games series. Silver puts his all into any activity he gets invested into(I'm giving this all I've got!) because of how Passionate he is.

It is the strength of his feelings that can make Silver Impulsive or Rash as often noted in his character bios.

Sometimes Silver tends to deal with things too head-on because of the strength of his feelings, or he tends to take everything on himself, but this is an aspect of his purity and an endearing virtue. ~ Sonic & Silver Sonic Channel story

This separates Silver from Sonic and Shadow who are both calm and cool in most situations while Silver has very little emotional regulation and can be blinded by his feelings. This can make him rather Reckless at times as he can deal with things too head on and will throw himself at problems when he gets overtaken by his feelings.

While Shadow is calculating and detached, Silver is controlled by powerful emotion and is impulsive and obsessive. This causes them both to be incredibly straightforward, mission oriented, and viscous, but for entirely opposite reasons. Sonic on the other hand falls in between. He cares, but he's not nearly as impulsive and manic as Silver. He's also cool-headed and easygoing, but not out of the detached stoicism of Shadow. SSS are quite different emotionally.

This Hot-blooded emotional nature is why Silver often has very Stoic partners like Blaze, Espio or Shadow to calm him down and pull him back. This dynamic is alluded to in the Japanese version of Sonic 06 where Blaze states that she shouldn't let Silver run wild on his own(in the English version she states that he's insecure when alone though that is contradicted within both 06 itself and the Rivals series).

An Aggressive Warrior

Due to his apocalyptic background Silver is a fierce and aggressive Warrior with many violent aspects to him. The Sonic Channel Sonic & Silver character introduction story states that Silver fought and struggled for half his lifetime which implies that he fought the forces of Iblis since he was seven years old.

Silver was born into a literal Hell on Earth where people lived without hope and he had to constantly battle against the minions of Iblis and put out disasters caused by it's existence such as flame tornadoes, storms and tides of lava destroying everything in a world where everyone lived in Eternal Darkness and suffering. Silver fought for most of his life to bring peace to the world. Due to this life of constant violence and devastation Silver is devoted to and deeply appreciates Peace but also has a violent personality because of it. This is why Silver has intense determined expressions and aggressive body language as he constantly makes fists and aggressive stances even when he's happy. Silver also punches things when he's frustrated and gets up using his fists in Sonic Forces. This not only shows his determination and emotional nature but his baked in aggression from a life of fighting through the apocalypse. Shadow notes Silver as a fighter in Team Sonic Racing dialogue. As covered above Silver can be something of an attack dog and needs to be held back at times.

This is also reflected in the pointed design of his eyes which in Japanese character design represents sharpness and intensity in a character. These points are easy to miss due to how his eyes are modeled and the way they align with the quills that act as bangs over the upper corners of his eyes.

Silver is incredibly powerful, being able to defeat armies of enemies in Town Missions in Sonic 06 and shown to have a tally of the number of times he single-handedly defeated the gigantic Iblis in a Sonic Pict wallpaper. When they fight in 06 Silver is as physically strong as Shadow who himself can easily lift 18-Wheeler G.U.N. Trucks and other house sized objects with one arm.

Silver also Enjoys Fighting and fights for fun as seen in his friendly Rival Battles in Sonic Generations. Silver is willing to fight anybody if he feels slighted and I do mean anybody as he's been shown willing to fight everything from skyscraper sized monsters like Iblis and Ifrit to small children as he has no qualms with fighting Tails or Bowser Jr(something he shares with Shadow). Silver is said to “sometimes call forth great power without mercy” in Sonic & Silver on Sonic Channel.

Tying into his selfless and reckless nature, Silver is also Extremely Brave. As stated for the Pumpkin Trigger Sonic Comic, Silver has no regard for his own safety and will immediately throw himself at any danger or sacrifice himself at a moments notice especially if it means protecting those around him. Silver had to fight the colossal Iblis and its endless spawn in a dark hellscape by himself for most of his life(as it has been revealed Blaze wasn't born in the future in 06). Silver also has very high pain tolerance owing to his determination and violent life of fighting Iblis. Angrily continuing to attack after being kicked in the head by Shadow in 06, shredded and bounced across the street by Sonic in Generations and enduring agonizing pain beyond description caused by overusing his powers in Sonic & Silver. Silver also seems to value being brave and dislikes cowardice going by his remarks in the Sonic Rivals series and the Team Vector Nintendo Dream interview which has interesting implications for his backstory.

When surprised in Sonic Generations Silver instantly has a fight response as he grew up in a world where Iblis minions could attack at any moment. (He's feral)

A Sentimental Person

Silver also has a very quiet side. He can be Introspective and Sentimental. This is shown throughout Sonic 06 with the non-verbal processing of events around him. After his fallout with Amy, he sits quietly by himself unengaged with his mission to destroy the Iblis Trigger and contemplates the morality of hurting one person to save the world. He silently takes in the events of the Solaris Project as he finally learns the truth about the destruction of the world he always asked about. Silver feels grief and contemplation quietly as shown when he's left solemn and silent over his moral dilemma and Blaze's sacrifice. Silver appreciates little things and finds beauty in simple parts of the world that most people take for granted.

Silver also has a certain curiosity to him and sometimes takes interest in new things ("Interesting"), so he also enjoys new experiences, facing challenges and going sightseeing.

The Hedgehog of Peace

The absolute core and purpose of Silver's character is World Peace. Silver lives for and fights to protect world peace at all costs. This primarily includes his drive to protect Smiles and Blue Skies. Because of Silver's Empathy he wants to see the world and it's people prosper and could not stand the devastated of his destroyed future even before he experienced any true peace. Silver's quills are patterned after a Japanese Maple Leaf which represents peace.

In contrast to the apocalyptic devastation, darkness and suffering he grew up with, Silver feels at peace when seeing clear blue skies, beautiful environments or people living in prosperity. Due to hailing from a devastated future even something as simple as a desert is beautiful to him because it's intact and the people are happy. Because his feelings reflect the world around him, seeing these things in ruined states saddens and upsets him while seeing them thrive takes his breath away. When Silver sees people smile he can't help but smile. Silver's mission is to protect and maintain a happy future with a blue sky.

This is also reflected in Silver's heavily implied favorite food, apples as apples represent Good Fortune and Prosperity. It was even revealed in Sonic Pict and a how-it-was-made special that Silver ate apple flavored calorie bars in his destroyed future.

To recap. The ten core aspects of Silver are:

A Strong Sense of Justice

The Optimistic Determinator

A Kind Heart

Forthright Purity( with Naivete)

A Focused Agent

An Emotional Beast

The Brash Antithesis of Eggman Nega

The Aggressive Warrior

A Sentimental Person

The Hedgehog of Peace

This post complies information about Silver from all his canon appearances, manuals, the Mario & Sonic series, Nintendo Dream and PlayStation Magazine interviews, design documents and cultural research by myself and others. Particularly the Sonic Channel Story called Sonic & Silver that is meant to introduce Silver's character and the Team Vector Interview from Nintendo Dream Magazine.

Some believe that Silver is an experimental character that changes from from game to game but all ten of these core aspects have been with Silver since his very inception in Sonic 06 and have been indicated in character bios/design docs since the beginning and are simply shown to different extents throughout the series. Silver is a very complex and abstruse character that can be difficult to grasp due to his lack of focus and the obscurity of most things he appears in post 06. I hope this post has given you a deeper understanding of him.

[4linos]

the apology in crayon

bang chan x fem!reader

synopsis: after a silent anniversary, chan makes a small but meaningful gesture, and their daughter’s drawings help restore love and understanding.

wc: 884

Silence weighed heavily on the night. It was the kind of silence that, despite the fact that neither of you had said much, spoke volumes. Despite all of your attempts to keep yourself calm, you had that usual feeling of regret when your phone alerted you to your fifth wedding anniversary and you realized that Chan had once again been distracted with work. Every time, even if it wasn't the first time, it hurt. Unable to ignore the pain that was rising in your chest, you had softly crept into bed. The coldness of the pillow next to you spoke louder than words tonight, and you lacked the energy for a confrontation.

Chan hadn’t said anything either. No "Happy Anniversary," no sweet words, no recognition. As the hours passed, there was only the slight sound of him tapping on his laptop in the living room. Although it was more painful than you had anticipated, it wasn't as if you hadn't anticipated it. You had tried to be patient, but work had taken up all of his attention for weeks. However, that didn't make things any simpler. So you turned your back on him and went to bed without saying anything, falling into a heavy, hollow sleep.

You woke up the following morning to the sound of gentle laughter. You opened your eyes to find your 4-year-old daughter standing next to the bed, her tiny face gleaming with delight. She had a stack of carefully drawn art that had been scratched with crayons. "Mommy! Look, look!” She gave you a drawing and exclaimed in a cheerful voice. "This is for you!" Still feeling a little dazed, you sat up and rubbed your eyes. They were only stick figures of her, Chan, and you. There were smiley pictures and hearts, and you could barely make out the words, "Daddy is sorry," in her still shaky handwriting.

You blinked as you became aware of what was happening, the haze of sleep fading. With a guilty expression on his face and sleep-puffed eyes, Chan peeked at the doorway. "Hey," he said quietly as he moved closer, his hands twitching at his sides. "I—"

Your daughter pulled at your sleeve before he could continue. "Mommy!” She smiled up at him and chirped, "Daddy says sorry!" He lowered himself to her level and ran his fingers through her disheveled hair as Chan's eyes softened.

"I do," he murmured in a hushed tone that was full of the remorse you hadn't heard the previous evening. "Baby, I truly apologize for forgetting. I didn't even understand how badly I had hurt Mommy because I was so busy with my work.” For the first time in a long time, there was no sign of worry or preoccupation when his eyes met yours. Just being genuine. Even though the disappointment from the previous night was still heavy, you could feel your heart lighten. Even if it wasn't the extravagant gesture you had hoped for, it was impossible to remain upset when you saw your daughter's helpless face and the drawings she had created.

Just then, you noticed the soft flickering light coming from the dining room. Chan had set up a candlelit breakfast on the table—a simple but thoughtful attempt to make up for his mistake. It wasn’t extravagant, but it was clear that he’d put in effort, just as much as your daughter had with her drawings. He held out his hand toward you.

"Will you join us for breakfast?" His eyes were filled with hope and remorse as he asked quietly. You inhaled while suppressing a smile. You tried to seem serious when you added, "You really should've remembered last night," but it was difficult to maintain the act because of the warmth in your chest. “But thank you for this. Yes, I will.” Eager to follow, your daughter pulled at your hand once more. "Mommy, hurry up! Come have some food!

You nod and get to your feet, kissing her on top of her head. You said, "All right, let's go," after following her and turning to face Chan. "We'll talk about it later." Your favorite food—nothing excessive, just the kind of hearty meal that made you feel at home—was on the table when you walked into the dining room.

The room was softly lit by the candles, and your daughter's big eyes were dancing with the light. Sitting across from you as you started to eat, Chan repeated again in a firm voice, "I'm really sorry." "I'll make sure I don't let this kind of thing happen again."

You looked at him for a while, the memories of the night before still vivid, but you realized that sometimes apologies take unexpected shapes after witnessing the effort he made this morning and your daughter's sincere attempts to make things right.

"Thank you," you replied quietly as you looked him in the eye. "We're alright."

And the tension of the previous evening started to fade as the three of you sat together and laughed at your daughter's silly stories about her attempts at drawing. The fact that it wasn't about lavish celebrations or flawless anniversaries was more important now. As usual, it was about the small things that restored the sense of balance and the straightforward affection that filled the space.

—

nini’s notes 111724

happy sunday! i hope you’re having a good weekend 😊👍 here’s some dad!skz ..

asks are always open if you have a question, concern, or request!

-🎀

[deunmiu-dessie]

ⅺ▬ ⁽ 𝓋𝒶𝓂𝓅𝒾𝓇𝑒⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₈ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : slightly edited, talk of past sexual assault ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts! it’s giving very much manhwa vibes!

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : your elder half-sister is to be married to the mysterious and supposed tyrannical duke kallisto de ardelean, on word of the emperor. with your sister no longer having her chastity and being scared to lose his daughter, your father, marquis bastian, and your elder half-brother, tommen devise a plan to send you in her stead.

꒰m!vampire₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

 the sound of cutlery grating against one another makes anxiety coil taut within your belly, the emotion mischievously swimming its way upwards to form a burning mordant taste within the base of your throat; bile threatening to ascend and expel from your mouth. your nerves are strung tight like a bow, bending, pulling, hurting- waiting to be disentangled from its stretch; but to no avail. the persistent, uneasy ache pulsing through your veins causes your head to throb and pound uncomfortably - the onset of a migraine looming.

    the clinking of silverware becomes a symphony of discomfort, each scrape, and clatter adding to the cacophony that fills the room. it becomes increasingly difficult to focus on anything else, as the unease consumes your thoughts and senses. the atmosphere feels suffocating, as if the tension in the air is tangible.

  you find yourself longing for a moment of respite, a break from the relentless discomfort. but it eludes you, leaving you trapped in this sea of unease. the storm within you rages on, its intensity growing with each passing second.

      'when will this be over?' you muse sourly, stumbling to hold in a huff of frustration and discomfort; the stinging, scalding gazes of your siblings and attendants are alight with contempt and taunting humor- directed at you. the sensation sends a chill skittering down your backbone, a chill so frigid that goosebumps begin to blanket your skin like a fresh layer of december frost; intricate and icy.

  as you sit there, the weight of their judgment bears down on you, pressing against your chest and making it difficult to breathe. the room seemed to close around you, the walls closing in like a vise, trapping you in a suffocating bubble of scrutiny. the air is heavy with tension, each second ticking by like an eternity, as if time itself had slowed down to magnify your discomfort.

    and you find that removing your eyes from the bowl of lukewarm soup in front of you to meet their disdainful faces, was nigh impossible. unthinkable. so instead you remain fixated on the porcelain dish, undisturbed by the tiny grains of sand scattered at the bottom, swirling lazily in the stew.

 'this again?' you ponder silently, before being startled by the tinkling laughter that fills the room.

     for a fleeting moment, your gaze flickers upward to scan the dining hall at the soft, girlish snickering; finding the venomous eyes of your elder sister staring right back at you. your glossy eyes quickly find solace in the sandy, savory depths of the bowl of soup below you once more. your fingers weaving jointly underneath the table, nails turning pale as the vice grip of your extremities coil, trying to strangle one another. you felt like a rat trapped within a burning bucket with nowhere to go, fated to die-but how badly you wanted to gnaw your way out to freedom.

 "oh my, dear sister, you've hardly touched your food."

  your back molars clench against the tender flesh of your cheek at the attention, your body cowering back into the delicate velvet chair underneath you, praying to be devoured whole. with trembling hands, you nervously rub your dewy palms against the faded blue fabric of your dress, causing it to darken with the touch of moisture. it was as if your very nerves had been set ablaze as you could now feel the disconcerting stare of your father branding the side of your cheek.

your soft but prevalent ebbeton accent cuts through the tense atmosphere like a sharpened blade, the gazes of the room bleeding into your skin.

    "i find myself lacking an appetite this evening," you emit softly, offering a forced smile to your elder sister in an attempt to pacify her. you’re not surprised when aerith’s thin upper lip curls into a snarl, downturned eyes narrowing and eyebrows furrowing. anything that you did; that defied her orders, usually triggered aerith to taunt and beat you. there was no winning when it came to the girl, you had figured that out when you were just a child.

     not expecting your reply, aerith’s narrow upper lip curls into a vexed snarl, downturned eyes tightening and eyebrows drawing near to each other. 'who the hell does she think she is?' a forced, cruel smile encases aerith’s mouth, golden spirals of silken hair dancing over her shoulders as she slants her head in an opposing manner. the blonde is only aggravated further at your curt, almost blank expression. "it'd be a waste for you to not at least take a bite, don't you think?"

  she leaned in closer, her eyes boring into yours, daring you to defy her. the room seemed to grow colder, the atmosphere heavy with tension. aerith knew that she had the upper hand, that she had the ability to make your already hellish life, worse. and she reveled in it. the power she possessed, the control she exerted over others, was intoxicating. she was not one to be underestimated, and she made sure you knew it.

    the intense thrumming of your fearful heart reverberates throughout your body, anxiety substituting the boiling blood surging through your veins. you swallow the orb of tension that's wedged its way into your throat and dig your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, a flimsy smile painted onto your lips. "i simply do not feel hungry tonight, sister," you reply calmly, though your heart pounds in your ears. "surely that is not a crime."

    your sister's eyes narrow, her fury evident in the furrowed lines on her forehead. you can almost taste the outrage, mingling with the metallic tang of fear on your tongue.

"(y/n)."

    you flinch back into your seat at the boisterous sound of your father's voice, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow, shakily you pick up the rickety spoon, a far cry from the elegant silverware adorning the table. with trembling hands, you cautiously dip the spoon into the soup, the loose pieces of sand giggling at your misery. slowly the spoon ascends to your lips- before three sharp knocks echo throughout the dining hall. every malicious, joyously cruel gaze, flits to the door. your father, never one to be unnerved, dabs at his lips with his napkin and clears his throat. "enter."

    the heavy oak doors are gradually pulled open by two knights who stand guard at opposing ends. the assailant quickly waltzes into the room, his face, pale and drawn, betrays the weight of his duty. beads of sweat trickle down his forehead, glistening like tiny diamonds in the candlelight. his disheveled attire, once pristine and regal, now hangs loosely on his frame, evidence of the tumultuous journey he has endured to reach this moment. settled upon his spindly hand is a slender silver tray, which carries a letter.

“-and what is the cause for you interrupting the household dinner, boy? "

  the man choked back a shuddering breath and with a graceful yet urgent stride, he approaches the grand mahogany table at the center of the room, halting just in front of your father, lowering into a ninety-degree bow and thrusting the salver forward.

     "a letter from the imperial palace..." the boy's tentative voice trails off for a moment, hesitant to declare the rest of the announcement. your father observed the scene with a stoic expression, his piercing gaze fixed upon the man before him, before he rolls his eyes, picking up his utensils once more. "well? out with it then.”

“- it's closed with the emperor's seal, my lord.”

    all respire within the room seemed to come to a standstill, the birds did not dare to chirp and the wind was not brave enough to howl. the silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint sound of your father's labored breaths. as the seconds ticked by, the room seems to hold its breath, waiting for marquis bastian to break the silence. finally, your father gently places his utensils aside and swiftly grasps the letter, his fingers trembling with a mixture of anticipation and unease. clearly, some things could unnerve marquis bastian, you thought, as you surreptitiously returned the spoon to its rightful place upon the table.

     popping the seal, your father glides the letter from the envelope delicately, unfurling the piece of paper to allow his eyes to glaze over the contents. yet, with each passing second his eyelids draw back to showcase the whites of his eyes, his fingers digging into the paper with a mix of shock, disbelief, or perhaps even anger. you can't quite discern his emotions. your father, marquis bastian, was a man known for his unwavering composure and unshakeable resolve. his presence alone commanded respect and admiration, and it was a rare sight indeed to witness him unsettled.

   his usually stoic face contorted with a myriad of emotions, his brows furrowing and his lips trembling ever so slightly. the room seemed to grow colder, as if the air itself was affected by his sudden unease. you watched in silence, your heart pounding in your chest, as your father's grip on the letter tightened, his knuckles turning white. the seconds stretched into minutes, and still, your father remained frozen in his chair, his eyes fixed on the damning words before him. 

   tommen, your eldest brother, swallows thickly at father's silence, the hairs on the back of his neck at attention and his leg bouncing nervously underneath the table. "father, what ails you?" marquis bastian was distraught, so much so in fact, that he ran a wrinkling hand down his face, head falling into his open palm. the patriarch of the house clears his throat and sets the paper back onto the tray.

"a-aerith. your engagement has been decided by the emperor."

    tommen's heart sinks at his father's words. your elder sister, forever the oblivious blonde; and incapable of reading the room, beams happily and clasps her hands together, head tilting to the side with a whimsical, distant gaze in her eyes. "oh! who is it, daddy? a duke? a marquis?—" the girl trails off with a gasp and places a soft, small hand over her mouth, her cheeks turning a rosy pink. "could it be the prince?! oh, daddy, say something! who is it?!"

tommen's eyes follow his father's every movement, his own anxiety growing with each passing second. he watches as his father clears his throat, a sign of his struggle to find the right words. your father, still in dismay, doesn't even attempt to soothe aerith as he breaks the news to her, his gaze empty, like a vast, swarthy sea of water without end.

"duke kallisto de ardelean."

 you watch in confusion as her smile slowly fades, her pretty, sparkling jade eyes seem to dull, the vibrant hue that once adorned her rosy cheeks now fades away, leaving behind a pallid complexion that betrays the absence of her usual vivacity.

   the blonde's daze is shattered in an instant as she forcefully pushes herself away from the table, her hands crashing down on the sturdy oak surface, her nails leaving marks. "no! i won't do it, you cannot make me!" your father's lips are set into a thin line and despite aerith looking to him for answers, for hope that only his words can bring, his expression is unreadable; and for a moment, something dark and enraged unfurls within the blonde's stomach, threatening to consume her.

"daddy? say something!"

tommen, always the mediator, attempts to smooth over the situation. "aerith, sit, let father think for a moment— hm?" your eldest brother can't help but add an encouraging whirr at the end of his demand after seeing his sister's frightened gaze; a sight that tugs at his heart agonizingly. aerith reluctantly tumbles into her chair, reddened cheeks cushioned by clammy palms; her nails digging into her scalp worriedly.  "brother, do something."

tommen's jaw ticked in annoyance- frustration. there was no way aerith would survive at duke ardelean's home, particularly because of her licentious behavior and absence of subordination. with aerith's lack of chastity, she was nothing but used, damaged goods— not even a puppet to be utilized. ( she would've been better off marrying a count, someone she could manipulate and break faith with. ) sending her off to kallisto would do nothing but insult the ardelean household and bring disgrace to their family for generations to come. 

    tommen's love for his sister was undeniable, and he couldn't bear to see her endure humiliation or worse. he refused to stand idly by and witness the downfall of his family, the destruction of everything they had worked so hard to build.

   slight motion from his peripheral causes tommen's head to turn slightly in its direction, catching sight of your dingy garments and absence of etiquette. ‘ah, the bastard.' he thought to himself. watching as your back straightens immediately when his viridian-colored gaze flits to your slouched figure. there is a bottomless sea of revulsion whirling like a hurricane within its depths and you grip your right arm tightly, nails digging into your flesh; scarring it with crescent moons, a desperate attempt to maintain composure, to keep yourself afloat in the face of his disdain.

    but despite your best efforts- you seemed to drown. the contempt in tommen's eyes remained unwavering. his judgment was etched into his features, a constant reminder of the vast chasm that separated you. in that moment, you were acutely aware of your place in his world, forever relegated to the outskirts, forever branded as the outsider.

"father, if I may?"

   marquis bastian looks toward his son, lips thinned and face weary. he was without a doubt, lost on what to do the thought of losing his little girl to such a man, made his stomach churn and ache.

tommen drags his gaze away from you and locks eyes with marquis bastian; he's tentative, uncertain if the solution that he's come to would assuage his father. but, he takes a deep breath and explains.

   "aerith has been out of high society for years now, after the incident with count aslan's daughter, and there were only a few witnesses at the happening.” tommen begins gradually, making sure that his father is mindful of every little detail. "truly-she's not even talked about within social circles anymore."

   your father grunts in agreement, shooting a scalding gaze at his immature (but loveable) daughter at the reminder of the mishap. the blonde's pout deepens and she crosses her arms over her chest in childish defiance.

   “duke kallisto has never gone to any social gatherings before and he's been away at the northern border for about the same period, perhaps even longer, with his eldest son joining him only a couple of months ago. he would have no idea who aerith is." marquis bastian's eyebrows furrow deeply, producing wrinkles in-between his thick, graying brows.

    tommen watches as the cogs turns in his father's head. “'it's official only on paper and since duke kallisto has never come to any social setting and no one knows what he looks like, i doubt there will be a public wedding, especially since he's currently at the northern border leading the knights."

marquis bastian's eyes widen and he finds his son's viridian gaze. “are you saying—” tommen nods quickly, leaning back in his seat. “if we send the bastard, they'd be none the wiser."

all eyes narrow on you, calculating and cold, it raises goosebumps on your skin, hinders your breath, and makes you break out in a cold sweat. 

    a small voice inside you yearned to protest, to expose the sheer madness of their 'scheme', warning that it would only lead to the gruesome demise of the entire family for treason. but, what right did you have to speak? you were nothing but a bastard, a child conceived out of unwilling sex, brought into this world by a maid who was promptly cast aside the moment you took your first breath.

   you were raised in the shadows, hidden away from the prying eyes of society, forced to serve the family that had abandoned you. your existence was a constant reminder of their shame, a living testament to their sins. and yet, despite the cruelty and neglect you endured, a flicker of defiance burned within you. but fear held you back. fear of retribution, of being cast out into the cold, unforgiving world. fear of the unknown, of what lay beyond the walls of the only home you had ever known.

you were a mere puppet, a marionette manipulated by the hands of those who saw you as nothing more than a means to an end. your existence was reduced to a tool, easily discarded when it no longer served its purpose. it was a fitting fate, since commoner blood surged through your veins. you were forever destined to be overlooked and discarded.

     lips thinning you watch as your fathers face flushes with the color he lost while reading the letter, no longer tense as he nods his head in agreement with tommen. he lets out a deep hum before locking eyes with his son. “that might just work.” marquis bastian absently strokes his beard before giving a decisive nod. “we’ll have to start the process quickly. with how she is now…” he trails off prompting you to hastily blink back the tears that threaten to spill down your cheeks. 

 “hajorld, send a letter to madame kilsby.” 

  all eyes fix upon aerith as she emits a disbelieving whimper. “daddy! that’s not fair, you promised that madame kilsby would teach me! you swore,”  her voice, sharp and grating, causes marquis bastian’s face to pinch into one of anger. “had you not spread your legs like some common whore, aerith, i would not be forced to take this action."

  aerith's heart sank at her father's accusing words. she had been looking forward to learning from madame kilsby for months, only to have her hopes dashed in an instant. the disappointment was palpable in the air as she struggled to hold back tears, her rose-tinted lips pressing together as she slumps back in her seat. your father sighs deeply and picks back up his cutlery. “may the gods have mercy on us."

"chin up!"

    you wince softly at the abrupt pain that blooms bitterly across your calf, the skin puckering and swollen from the harsh, periodic whipping of madame kilsby. stiffly your chin lifts upwards. the heavy books that make a home on the top of your head for the time being, quiver- as if they are walking bare within the frigid december air; waiting to topple. 

     her aging hand presses deftly into your lower back, fixing your posture once more with a soft hum, assessing, watching. she observes as you prance forward, wobbly within your heels but nonetheless ideal, given the time frame in which your lessons had begun.

"to me."

   as gracefully as you can, you turn to face madame kilsby in all her beautiful glory and for the second time this lesson, your breath catches briefly in your throat. you gaze at her shamelessly, taking in her red tresses, which like a dancing flame, curl atop her head; her green eyes, the color of luscious green forests, are deep, enchanting, and dangerous.

    the smell of her perfume is sweet (but not too much so) and floral, with just a whiff of spice she is a woman to behold, and you do so often. with a barely-there breath, you walk back towards her, feet aching within the shoes given to you. if your form is off, it doesn't show on her face. you come to a stop in front of madame kilsby and she locks gazes with you, the corners of her mouth curl up, she's pleased— it makes her all the more inviting.

"good y/n, i'm impressed."

  an apprehensive smile caresses your lips, brightening your typical apathetic beauty, and madame kilsby, finds you charming even more so. the older woman clears her throat softly and gently removes the hefty books from the top of your head, setting them onto the table next to her with a thump.etiquette and most other teachings usually are taught to children at a young age; that way it evolves almost into a second nature for them. since you were born out of wedlock and worst of all to a maid, a woman of no noble origin- you had been cast aside, as there was no need for a bastard to learn anything.

     madame kilsby had been reluctant to teach you, the first couple of days you could perceive her ridicule, her apprehension. yet, just as quickly as it came, it went, the hostility, the backhanded compliments, every scornful thing she had done while teaching you the first three days, seemed irrelevant. 

  you, she concluded, are her most promising student. you heed her words, obey, and watch diligently. you emulate, take, and evolve her teachings to fit your technique. your unwavering, confident blank gaze and features add to the feminine, mysterious ambiance that seems to encompass you. seeing you take shape had been breathtaking for madame kilsby. 

     she had never seen such rapid progress in a student before, especially one who had been deemed unworthy of her teachings. your determination and quick wit impressed her, and she found herself looking forward to each lesson with you.

   "there is nothing left for me to teach you now. as you've soaked up every bit of knowledge that i could provide. and beautifully so." the curvature of your lips pull downward, and madame kilsby watches as your features return back to their typical apathetic look.

'i have two days left before being shipped off to duke ardelean's home.’ you think sourly,briefly escaping your anxious musings to offer a distracted smile towards madame kilsby. "thank you, truly."

     the woman inclines her head and gently rests a hand upon your cheek. "let me know if there's anything i can do for you, child, if it's within my power to do so, it will be done."

   'would it be wrong to ask her to stab me with a knife? probably.' and just like that, in two days, you would be shipped off to your death.

two days later

  the ride to the ardelean estate is hell on wheels, you believe. your body is sore from your unduly tense posture, and your bum aches continually at every hobble and wobble of the carriage, it doesn't help that the corset that you had been forced into (and not delicately either) makes it all the harder to draw breath. 

  the carriage had been riding all day to get to the estate on time, a staggering eleven-hour ride- where you most definitely couldn't get any rest even if you had tried. it feels like an eternity before the carriage pulls to a stop. 

"my lady, we're here." 

    your nerves are scorched, set ablaze with fear and unease and it engulfs your body in a flame so searing that you find yourself airing your face. the door opens slowly and you swallow down the squeal of dread that tries to claw its way out of your throat, you place your hands comfortably on your lap, back straightening despite the sting of pain it brings and face blanking.

    a large palm facing upwards comes into your peripheral and you place your own gloved hand into it, stepping out of the carriage door, on a stepping stool, and finally onto the gravel. your eyes adjust to the brightness of outside before the estate comes into focus, and it's enormous, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it. the structure is beautiful in its own haunted way.

   "welcome to the ardelean estate, lady fureio." 

    the monotonous chorus of voices surprises you, your body jolting softly, it leaves your heart to thump laboriously in your chest; eyes finally narrowing in on the attendants of the estate, the head maid and butler stand front and center, eyes cordial and seemingly all-knowing. 

   your smile is small, reluctant— yet warm nonetheless, you tip your head downwards in greeting, swallowing thickly, palms beginning to moisten and skin warming at your nervousness. "thank you." 

  a smile brightens the head maids face, her plump but sagging cheeks flushing a soft, lovely hue of red. "my name is esmerelda, i will escort you inside my lady, to get you settled in." she watches with rapt attention as you exhale shakily, nodding, "that would be great esmerelda, thank you."

   her countenance swiftly adopts a stern expression as she directs her attention to the two knights positioned behind her. if they have a problem with carrying your luggage, it remains imperceptible upon their visage. without hesitation, they proceed to retrieve your possessions from the rear of the carriage and carefully carry them into the grand estate ahead, their armor clanking softly with each step.

   you don't own many thing, only a few dresses (which weren't much to look at) a singular pair of worn shoes, and a couple of hairpieces that were fraying at their ends. while marquis bastian had paid for your etiquette lessons and other teachings— he was adamant about not spending much else after that. which was quite foolish of him now that you thought back to it.

    the woman watches them intently, her eyes sharp. as the knights disappear into the castle, the woman turns back to you with a slight nod of approval. "they will ensure your belongings are safely stored in your chambers," she says, her voice firm but not unkind. 

   you offer a gentle smile and a slight nod, gracefully aligning yourself with her stride as she beckons you to accompany her into the estate. she trails in front of you slightly, as you two walk past the maids stationed outside for your welcoming. 

 "where is the little lord?"

 "i couldn't find him this morning."

 "young master calix skipped sword training as well."

 esmerelda's stern gaze quickly has them hushed, their chins tucking against their chests pitifully, your lips purse softly as you comb through your head for lost details on the ardelean household, following slowly behind esmerelda.

    kallisto de ardelean is a father to three boys, the eldest son: azur, who recently turned seventeen, joined kallisto a couple of months back at the frontier to help with the north's demon subjugation. he, along with kallisto, wouldn't be home for a while.

   atreyu, kallisto's fifteen-year-old middle child is learning at the academy and finishing up his second year. and because winter is coming, atreyu's company would be expected in a couple of weeks from now.

    you pause momentarily in your thoughts. not much is known about kallosto's last son, as he is too young to participate in any social gatherings, and too young for the academy, not even his name is known, well, you supposed now that you knew it. 

calix de ardelean.

 "it's been a long ride has it not? shall i have a bath drawn for you?"

    you were exhausted, eyes laden, and breath slightly shallow from the ill-fitting corset that adorned your figure. you wanted to sleep, needed it even; yet the prospect of a warm bath followed by donning a comfortable nightgown seemed even more appealing.

   “that’d be perfect esmerelda, thank you.” you can hear the smile in her voice as she responds back to you. “of course, my lady.” 

     the two of you make your way through a corridor after a long trek up a flight of stairs, it’s adorned with paintings. they're eerie yet exquisite; gloomy and desolate. the paintings seem to come alive as you walk past them, their eyes following your every move. the brushstrokes are so vivid and lifelike that you can almost feel the emotions emanating from the canvas. it's as if the artists poured their souls into each piece, leaving a lingering presence that sends shivers down your spine. the colors are so vibrant and the details so intricate that it's hard to believe they were created by mere human hands. 

   however, one catches your gaze, steals your breath away even—  as if time stands still as you lock eyes with the portrait.

“who is he?” 

   your mouth opens before you can dissuade yourself and esmerelda turns to face you, watching as you shamelessly gaze deeply at the painting, lips parted and almost breathless. you're not sure how the painter is able to capture the aura that surrounds the man perfectly— but they do and it's monarchial... terrifying. 

    his tresses are long and ebony; framing his face delicately, his lips are ruby in color- inviting; and his skin is pale as porcelain. the man's eyes are the color of freshly spilled blood, they gleam with an all-knowingness that warms your skin and strips you bare. you find it almost impossible to drag your gaze away from the painting, he's quite literally the most beautiful man you have ever seen.

  "that is duke kallisto, my lady." 

   you whip around to face her, eyebrows furrowing and heart thumping desperately within your chest, nearly pounding out of your ribcage, your ebbeton accent thickens as you speak, a look of clear disbelief in your eyes. "truly?" when she nods in confirmation you step forward and touch the portraits golden frame, trailing your fingers lower to trace over the cursive letters of duke kallisto's name. realizing how peculiar you must look, you quickly pull your hand to your chest; face warming in embarrassment.

 “shall we get going?”

ardelean estate

        the next day

calix de ardelean was a curious child. 

 his transgressions usually got him into trouble with his father more times than headmaid esmerelda had been able to count on both hands— though, that never truthfully seemed to stop calix, not for long anyway, especially since kallisto is reminded often of his late wife whenever he sees that playful glint within calix's ruby-red eyes, and folds almost immediately.     

     sometimes calix's childlike antics were simply disregarded by kallisto because the boy was just a child. a child who had never gotten to meet his mother, a child who lacked the maternal love that his elder siblings grew up with. kallisto could not be irate with his baby boy, no matter what he did.

   so it’s not surprising that calix is currently skipping sword practice. not that he despised it in any way, truly it was his favorite thing as it helped past time as he waited for his father to come back from the northern borders. 

  he hadn't been told about the marriage, only deduced it after catching wind of the rumors from the maids. he was curious, perhaps even a bit scared, he didn't like change. he would chase her out no matter what, before his father could come home. 

  now, to search for the woman who infiltrated his h- 

"ahem, young master calix- enough of these childish games."

     the boy jumps, startled by sir. fjord's deep timbre. without a word, calix quickly takes off down the hallway with a bellowing, tinkering laugh. his cheeks are flushed the cutest shade of red and his obsidian hair is ruffled at the top of his head. 

     glancing over his shoulder to look for the man, calix rounds a corner and immediately bumps into a soft, thick fabric, that sends him crashing butt-first to the carpeted flooring, hands burning. the boy whines softly and pouts, gazing up and up until he locks eyes with a woman. 

pretty. 

   with a worried frown, the woman lowers down in front of him, she smells of honey sickle and sugared lavender and it has warmth unfurling languidly within his tummy, turning him to mush underneath her soft, amused gaze.      

     "you must be calix." he nods slowly, unable to look away from her observant- filled eyes, she smiles brightly, it's welcoming and genuine. "my name is aerith fureio." 

    her fuller lips pull downward as she notices the redness that envelopes calix's hand, she reaches forward to grasp his wrist softly, angling it so that his palm faces upwards to her gaze, a nervous gasp expels from calix's lips, he's surprised to feel that ‘aerith's’ hands are slightly calloused. though from azur's teachings, a woman of noble birth never does domestic work, that's what maids are for. 

    it was difficult for women to comprehend how to wield a sword and so they weren't taught to do so. instead, they lived a life where they needn't lift a pinky. 

  so why were such warm and delicate hands, bruised as if she'd been working? 

    "you'll need some ointment for your palms." aerith glances over her shoulder to a maid who stands nearby with widened eyes. "lily, could you please?" 

    calix glances at the maid whom he hadn't noticed, too caught up in the woman in front of him. he glared at her viciously, watching as she scampered away with a small squeal. "yes, my lady!" 

   calix quickly snatches his hand from the woman and clutches it to his chest, round eyes scowling at her. 'aerith' chuckles soft and low, resting her elbow against her thigh and laying her cheek on her palm— gazing at the boy. he shuffles backwards away from her.

     "you're that lady that moved in yesterday, huh?" his gaze is sharp and unwelcoming but the woman in front of him seems to brighten at the sound of his sweet voice. she inclines her head in affirmation, it's surprisingly elegant in calix's eyes. "i am."

   it's a simple answer, not one he's expecting but it makes his heart beat fiercely. 

  the boy finds that the ire he once held for this unknown woman slowly starts to fade away, no matter how hard he wills it to remain. her eyes are like pools of warmth that beckon him to swim within them and her smile is small, but genuine- and calix swears that it's the first one that he's seen outside of his family.

    he opens his mouth to say something but there is nothing. 'aerith', seeing him struggle, cocks her head to the right and lets out a soft hum. 

  “say, i've had a hard time figuring out these halls, i just keep getting lost no matter what i do." she trails off in faux hesitancy and watches as his face lights up slowly but surely. the boy clears his throat and toots his nose up in a haughty manner, a smug smirk hugging his lips, calix finds that though her accent is unfamiliar and slightly heavy, it's not unpleasant to hear.

    "i suppose i'll give you a tour, no need to beg." calix scrambles to his feet, fixing his clothing. “i'll visit you early tomorrow morning, be ready!" before she can say anything else, the boy is off, running through the halls once more. 

"my lady? where has the little lord gone?" 

  smiling, you stand from your crouched position and turn to face your personal maid. "it seems he's run off. have the balm sent to his quarters when you have the chance."    

     lily nods and follows dutifully after you. "shall i show you around tomorrow then my lady?" you place a hand over your mouth to stifle your small laughter. "worry not lily, it seems i've reserved a guide."