#anyways: i need someone to come put my out of my misery by being my test subject/letting me take this all out on them

[signanothername]

So, I know you've admitted to never reading For the Forgotten Ones, but I will note it has some very fanon Nightmare + MTT. And, so, it made me wonder;

the concept is just Ink being stopping from destroying his own SOUL by Nightmare, who takes him in. Ink ends up as a healer, before eventually discovering that he's Protector of Creation. Loosest way to describe the plot as possible. Could go more in detail if you'd ever like. BUT BACK TO THE THING I WAS WONDERING!!!!!!!!

How would that go with your version of Nightmare and the gang? With Nightmare finding the small, skeleton (small enough to be a kid), who has almost no knowledge of how the word works, and stubbornly refuses to ever fight or hurt or destroy, to the point he learns green magic, and barely anything else (he only learns his own magic aside from green), and Ink wants them all to be okay at the end of the day. How would that go with him? Even more so, what about MTT? In the story, Horror's the most chill with Ink, they're vibing. Dust/Murder is kinda vibing with Ink, arguably the two closest to Ink in the beginning. Killer is.....it takes a good minute for him to warm up to this one(Will say, at some point Ink falls into another AU o accident when opening a portal for the first time, nearly dies, is soaking wet ad scared, and he's given one of MTT's jackets, AND IT GOES DOWN TO HIS KNEES, I NEED YOU TO PICTURE THIS PLEASE....it was Killer's). By the end they're found family, but I really love your version of everyone, and I started rereading ftfo, when I wondered how different this could be if it were a DIFFERENT multiverse, a.k.a., your iteration?

Oh it’s definitely extremely different chhchc

I’m sorry to say that my multiverse isn’t much of a merciful one hchchchchc (I wouldn’t say my multiverse is a sad one, but it’s certainly a bittersweet one)

Biggest difference? Nightmare won’t even think of getting Ink under him or get him inside his castle to begin with

To Nightmare, That’s just another random Sans in this vastly wide multiverse, he already got 3, he doesn’t need another, sure, the circumstances of this particular Sans are interesting to say the least, but by that point, there’s nothing Ink could offer Nightmare at all except for his misery and negativity, but again, he already got 3 negativity meals that continuously feed him anyway, and this entire place is nothing but white void, so Nightmare has nothing interesting to be offered, there is literally no reason Nightmare would feel like he needs to change his routine to include a random skeleton who’s best they ever done is sit down and sulk

And hey, if being in this white void makes them miserable then who’s Nightmare to stop them from being miserable? :)

He’ll come in, take one look at them and their Au, get out, simple as that, and even if this random Sans had something to offer, Nightmare would simply settle for making a deal and leaving them there (no open positions for another member in his gang)

So basically the entire plot of the fic won’t even happen with my Nightmare, the fic is just gonna be reduced to a oneshot wheeze gchchcch

But for the sake of this ask, let’s imagine that my Nightmare did actually take Ink in, let’s explore how that would go

Another big difference? It’s Killer that’s gonna “warm up” to Ink first, (ngl, never understood the notion of Killer being the aggressive one cchhcch), i put “warm up” in quotes cause in reality it’s less warming up and more like, “wow! A change of pace? Something new? Interesting gotta squeeze every info outta them and maybe even manipulate them to suit me and convenient me while i’m at it”

Killer is social in nature, and unless Ink somehow reminds him of his own misary, there’s no reason Killer would pass up the opportunity to see how this new guy ticks, he’d study Ink like an ant, dissect them in his mind even, i mean, Nightmare getting someone new? He knows Nightmare isn’t one who likes change in his routine so what’s the new guy got that actually caught Nightmare’s interest this much?

All that aside, Killer is actually extremely docile to anyone as long as they don’t push him or force something upon him, and even when pushed, Killer is surprisingly patient and would simply let them get it out of their system all while making it clear he wants to be left alone until he loses that patience, so unless Ink somehow genuinely and actively pushes Killer’s buttons, he’ll never get on Killer’s nerves/bad side, Killer would simply treat Ink like he treats anyone, no genuine connection, just another thing (not person) to study and analyze

If Killer were to attack Ink in any way, it’s less aggression, and more “let’s see what this guy can do” just a quick test for his new lab rat

Killer wouldn’t form any genuine emotional connection with Ink, to Killer, Ink is just another toy Nightmare wanted to get for himself, and that’s talking about Stage 2, Stage 1 is… outta commission, I don’t think Ink would truly have the chance to meet Stage 1 Killer, meeting Stage 3 is a big possibility, but let’s hope Ink doesn’t have to cause I don’t think Ink would know how to deal with him

Murder and Horror are a different story, Horror wouldn’t want anything to do with the new guy, he already got a ton to deal with, he’s not interested to add another problem to his pile of problems, I wouldn’t say Horror would be aggressive, more passive aggressive, Horror is the old tired guy™ in the group, he’s got a splitting headache most of the time, a bitchy boss, hunger eating away at him and a Killer he would like to choke sometimes, he isn’t really in the mood to make friends

But as long as Ink doesn’t bother him, Horror would simply just co-exist with them, and even answer their questions or converse with them, but all in a “hurry up i want a nap” attitude

Horror has the capacity to warm up to Ink, but it’ll be a long slow journey till there, and Ink would have to do all the work cause Horror sure as hell won’t be the one trying to form a connection with him

Murder is a bit on the aggressive side, but not too much, just enough to make it very clear he isn’t up for making friends either, a bit of a cold shoulder if you will, but generally, Murder would just keep his distance, not trusting Ink too much, a bit paranoid about who he might be and why Nightmare brought them in considering they don’t look like they’d fit in their band of misfits at all

Still, Murder would warm up to Ink eventually if he truly realizes that Ink isn’t really that much of a bad guy, just another lost unfortunate soul that had miserable luck in life that Nightmare found them first

I’d say Murder is the one that might form a friendship with Ink, a twisted form of friendship where it’s “you’re now tolerable and so i might lend a hand here and there but every man for himself”, definitely not a rose filled friendship where it’s all rainbows, but a friendship nonetheless

But still, Murder is kinda the opposite to Killer, Killer is docile, Murder is hostile, so if Ink were to be hurt by one if the MTT first, it’s most likely Murder’s doing

But in general, it’s Killer that’s gonna help Ink “catch up” and get up to date on how things go around the castle and in general, it’s pretty much his job as he’s Nightmare’s right hand man, so if anything happens or if Ink steps outta line which could’ve been prevented had Killer done his job by properly introducing Ink to their “work flow”, it’s an 80% possibility that Killer is the one that’s gonna be in trouble

Don’t Imagine Killer doing his job in the sense of actual genuine love to help and more, cold distant “here’s how you can survive” without much emotion behind it even, just Killer smiling his dead smile and chatting it up, and even going as far as physical harm for “demonstration purposes”

When it comes to Nightmare and his relationship with Ink… there isn’t any, Nightmare sees Ink as another asset, another miserable soul to do his bidding, if Nightmare somehow deals with Ink’s refusal to hurt anyone then two things might happen:

1- Nightmare tortures Ink with his fear of white spaces and if things continue they way they do, and Nightmare reaches his limit, he’d simply try killing Ink off (now whether that would work is really up to you)

And

2- would let Ink warm up to MTT, then use them as scapegoats to force Ink to do what he wants by torturing them every time Ink decides to be stubborn (even going as far as making an example without any actual reason and demonstrating it by breaking one of MTT’s bones like twigs as Ink watches)

Now MTT would definitely start pressuring Ink to do his “job” to just murder someone or hurt them, as they aren’t looking forward to Nightmare torturing them just cause Ink wants to hold on to such delusional ideologies, and maybe even ending up feeling a lot of distaste for Ink and his behavior, their environment wasn’t meant for good intentions to blossom, and they’re gonna teach Ink that

If Ink somehow got stuck with Nightmare and his lil gang then man, I genuinely pity him

I feel like Ink would crave a tiny bit of genuine connection after being stuck in a white void for so long, but Nightmare and MTT don’t have that genuine connection, MTT are just roommates barely tolerating each other who live in absolute horrendous conditions under an abusive boss in an abusive environment, where the nicest most genuine thing one of them might do is tell you “hey don’t talk to boss today he’ll make you relive your worst nightmares, yeah, he’s in a mood today it seems”, and then there’s Nightmare who would make Ink extremely miserable and would use Ink’s fear of white spaces against him like the cruel sadistic bastard he is

Nightmare gang isn’t a found family, it’s a group of forced enslavement and labor, and there’s no escaping it

(The image of Killer’s jacket reaching Ink’s knees is really adorable tho, have a sketch for it :D)

[switchblade-serenade]

.🌪️

[strang3lov3]

For Science

Soft!Joel Miller x Fem Reader

Summary: Joel’s heart breaks at your misery when you’re on your period, so he does what he can to alleviate your pain. 

Warnings: Fluff, smut, blowjobs, fingering, awkward Joel and Reader, period cramps, period sex, unprotected PIV. sweet sweet joel. Mutual pining

W/C: 4k

A/N: For all the menstruating Joel girlies, this one’s for you. And me too, because this shit fucking sucks. Admittedly this is very self indulgent. This isn't my favorite fic, but I hope you guys like it anyway. I feel like it's devoid of a lot of typical period fic tropes so I am unsure if y'all will enjoy. Have a great weekend!

btw, send me an ask or comment if you aren't tagged and would like to be! mwah kisses love you all <3

masterlist

as always, please leave me a comment or reblog if you liked the story! i am desperately in need of validation

Knock knock knock. “You okay in there? Haven’t seen you at all today, honey,” Joel asks as your door swings open slightly. His brows are knit together and his soft eyes are big and worrisome.

Joel hates seeing you like this. You’re huddled with your knees curled into your chest on your bed, trying to will away the pain. Your hands are clutching your stomach, you’re quietly moaning in agony. 

“I think I’m getting sick,” you rasp out, your voice weak. It started with a dull ache in the pit of your stomach that didn’t seem to leave. Then came the nausea. 

“Sick, hm? Can I come in?” Joel asks you. You nod yes, and the door opens wider. His footsteps are soft towards the bed as he sits next to you. “Let me check you for a fever?”

You nod again, not having much energy to use your voice. Joel places a palm first on your forehead, then your cheek. Not satisfied with the results, he repeats the action with the back of his hand. It’s such an unexpectedly sweet and caring gesture, your eyes prick with tears. 

“Not terribly warm,” he mumbles. And then it catches his eye: that rusty bloodstain on your bed, heavy and concentrated to a few square inches. He leans over to check your backside, where he finds the stain mirrored on your pants. “Think you started your period, honey.” he whispers. 

The cramps and nausea feel all too familiar now. 

You hadn’t had a period since the beginning of your trek across the country with Joel and Ellie. Not that it was a super regular occurrence before that, but you often gave your food to the younger girl. Being so malnourished, your period disappeared. It was a welcome exit, your period was always exceptionally painful and miserable for you. 

“Oh,” you move your hand to your ass and press your fingers into where you think the bloodstain should be. And yup, there it is. “Shit.” you grumble, looking at the matching bloodstain on your blanket. The last thing you wanted to do today was laundry. 

Your cheeks heat up slightly. Hiking halfway across the country with someone, modesty is usually thrown out the window. You and Joel have seen each other in all sorts of intimate states, too intimate for the type of relationship you share. But still, you can’t help but be slightly embarrassed.

He must see your blush. “Hey, it’s alright,” Joel assures you softly. “I was gonna go over to Tommy and Maria’s anyway to do some laundry. Why don’t you let me wash your blanket and those clothes, hmm?”

“You really don’t have to, Joel,”

He ignores your gentle protesting. “Nonsense. I’m gonna give ya some privacy for a second, leave what you want washed outside your door. I’ll be back in a few hours,” 

You smile gently, scolding him in your mind. He doesn’t need to be doing all of this for you. He smiles back, warm and shy, before exiting your room and shutting the door behind him. 

You strip, changing into some sweats and fresh panties. In the bathroom are some reusable pads made from old towels that Maria gifted you when you first arrived in Jackson with Joel and Ellie. She gave the last menstrual cup to Ellie, who’s at school today. You put on a pad, toss your soiled clothing outside the door, and curl up with a book on your bed.

Joel lets himself inside Tommy and Maria’s home. Yes, there’s a community laundromat. But those often require socializing, which Joel is not much a fan of. Tommy and Maria generously offered you and Joel their to use washer and dryer instead.

He places the basket of laundry on top of the dryer and begins filling the washer with your clothes and blankets, none of his own, and sprinkles in some detergent. 

Joel lied. He did his laundry yesterday. But he knew how ill you were feeling, and Joel, ever the gentleman, decided to take it upon himself to take care of this for you. The grumpy asshole did have a heart after all. 

“Back so soon?” A voice interrupts. Joel turns to look, it’s Maria standing in the kitchen with her baby on her hip. “Didn’t you do laundry yesterday?”

“I did, yeah,” Joel responds. 

Maria notices your soiled panties sitting on top of the blanket she recognizes as yours in the washer. “She got her period, I’m guessing?”

Joel nods. “Yeah, figured I’d take care of the laundry for her,” “Well aren’t you kind,” Maria says, impressed. Not many guys would take care of washing a woman’s period-bloodied clothing. “I thought she might be starting soon. Noticed yesterday at the dining hall she was complaining of cramps and such. She also seemed a little moodier than usual.”

Joel shuts the lid and turns on the washer. “I thought so too,” he agrees. “She was a little irritable.”

Maria puts on a pot of coffee and offers Joel a cup, to which he accepts. For a while they talk about Tommy, then their new baby. When the washer finishes, Joel moves the clothes and blanket to the dryer. 

“I can drop those off for you if you’d like,” Maria offers. “You may wanna get back and make sure your girl’s doing okay.”

“That’d be great, I was actually thinkin’ the same thing,” Joel thanks Maria. “You don’t have any pain meds, do you? Poor thing looks terrible. She’s all curled up into herself, barely speakin’ to me.”

“No, I don’t, unfortunately,” 

Joel sighs. “How do you deal with it, then? Cramps and all that,”

“Well, a warm bath always helps. So does a heating pad if she has that,” Maria says. 

Joel nods his head. “Is there anything else? Tea? Somethin’, anything. I mean, this girl is absolutely miserable,”

“Well,” Maria starts, unsure if she’s ready to reach this level of personal with her brother-in-law. “Orgasms.”

Joel sputters into his mug as he chokes on the coffee in his mouth. “Pardon?”

“Yeah, orgasms. Have sex with her. It’s what I recommend to all the women here. It does help the cramps subside, at least for a bit,” Maria says. Joel’s face drops, his eyes go wide. “What, are you afraid of blood or something? You’re washing her bloody clothes…”

“No, no. It’s uh, it’s not that. We aren’t…we’ve not…”

Maria stops Joel, understanding. “My apologies. I thought you guys were together like that. Well, God gave women fingers for a reason,” she says, very matter of factly.

Joel blushes, images of you and your wandering fingers flooding his imagination. “Got it,” is all he says. No fucking way in hell he’s going to tell you to masturbate to alleviate your cramps. That can most definitely be a conversation between you and Maria another time, when Joel is far away from you both.

He awkwardly says goodbye then, making his way back to your shared home. Maria sends him home with some potato soup, instructing him to heat it up for you. It’s good comfort food, she says. 

In your bedroom, you look to be in about the same position as you were before. Whimpering in pain, rocking your body back and forth in the fetal position. Anything to shake the hurt away. 

“Hey darlin’, Maria gave me some potato soup to heat up for you. Can I make you some?” Joel’s back in your doorway, his tall frame leaning across the rickety old wood. 

“No, thank you,” you whisper. “Not really hungry.” “Figures. That’s alright. Anything else I can do?”

No, you tell him. Not unless he’s willing to be your human body pillow. This entire time you’ve been bleeding, you’ve been aching for comforting touches. Strong arms wrapped around your torso, warm hands pressing on your lower tummy. The other hand holding your own, thumb tracing back and forth on your skin. Soft kisses on your forehead, your hair. You just want to be loved, gently. The way you so deserve. 

Joel turns to leave then, just about shutting the door behind him. 

Maybe…

“Joel?” you call out. 

“What’s up, honey?” 

“I was just wondering if you’d maybe hold my hand. Just for a second,”

Joel smiles sadly through the crack of the door. “Of course,” he says tenderly, like it shouldn’t have even been a question on your mind. Of course he’ll hold your hand.  He meets you at the bed, sitting awkwardly next to you. He offers you his hand, which you take in both of yours. It’s dry and calloused, but so warm and comforting. “Squeeze me as hard as you need, alright? I can handle it.” Joel adjusts slightly so he’s laying next to you, his other hand stroking your hair. He smiles to himself, small and genuine. 

A wave of ache overtakes your body, beginning in your abdomen and spreading up your chest and down your thighs. Your breasts are heavy and swollen and aching angrily. You groan in agony. “Fuck,” you whimper. 

“What hurts? Where?”

“Everywhere,” you cry. Your hands leave his, and they find their way to his torso. You grasp his sides in your fists and squeeze, but he doesn’t complain. It doesn’t hurt, and even if it did, you’re hurting worse. In truth, he’s savoring the warmth your bodies create together. He loves being able to comfort you like this. 

Joel wraps his arms around your back, dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. “You’re breakin’ my heart, honey,” he whispers. “Let me help you. What can I do?” he asks, hot breath tickling your ear.

“I don’t think you want to,” you murmur.

“Try me,”

You sigh, sitting up on his chest slightly. “Can you…massage me? My chest?” 

Joel’s breath hitches and he shuffles awkwardly. “I suppose,” he starts. 

“I’m sorry. I just need your strong hands, I tried doing it myself but–”

“No, yeah. Of course,” Joel interrupts. He’s at a loss for words, more filthy images of you flooding his mind. Just like before, at Maria’s. “It’s what friends are for, right?” He cringes inwardly at the word he uses. Friends. 

“You’re too good to me,” you mumble. 

“Nonsense, honey,” he hushes you. “Sit up, turn around. I’ve got you.” 

You trust Joel completely. He can be rough around the edges, but you know how soft and nurturing he is on the inside. Joel is meant for this, taking care of the people he loves. 

He spreads his legs and you lean back into the soft warmth of his torso, holding onto his denim clad thighs. He’s awkward to start, still unsure of how to do this, exactly. You take his hands and drag them up, up your tummy, stopping for a second to savor the heat from his palms radiating through to your abdomen, then continue pushing them up your body. You stop just before your breasts, his thumbs lightly tracing the soft flesh of your tits.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice steady and calm but slightly nervous. He wonders if you can hear the way his voice is wavering slightly. 

“Mhm,” you mumble. 

And then he gets to work. Gently, timidly, he runs his hands over the soft flesh of your breasts, then your nipples. You groan at the contact on your sensitive buds. He squeezes gently, then increases pressure experimentally. He can feel how swollen you are as he explores every inch of your chest. 

“Doin’ alright?” he asks, fingers and thumbs digging deep into your breasts. He massages you intently and with such tenderness, his gentle caretaking instincts taking over. 

It hurts so fucking good. The ache is amplified yet dissipates with each motion of his palms. “Yeah, harder. Don’t stop,” you plead desperately. 

Joel swallows thickly and increases pressure again. “Like this?”

“Just like that, Joel. So good,”

God, how sinful you sound. Whimpering and moaning for him, begging for more. Shit, not now. Not fucking now, he thinks as his cock begins to harden under you. “Fucking moron,” he whispers. 

“What?” 

Joel freezes. “Shit. I uh, wasn’t callin’ you a moron. Sorry,” he apologizes gruffly. “It’s me. I’m the moron.”

“Why are you a moron?”

“I’m gettin’ a bit hard. I’m sorry,” he mumbles. He feels heat rise up his neck and to his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to.”

“My tits are in your hands, Joel, I get it. I don’t mind,” you assure him. You feel his cock half hard, pressing into your lower back and you shift a little. You both notice how he grows harder at your adjustment.

Joel chuckles awkwardly, trying to break the tension. “I’m only a man, hon. Can’t help it,” 

“You’re okay, Joel. I promise,” You chuckle with him, sighing and resting your head back on his chest again as he starts massaging you once more. The stubble on his jaw tickles your face, his chest rises and falls with every second. You share a moment in the silence, made slightly awkward by Joel’s arousal. You wince as another strong cramp overtakes your body, and you curl up into Joel.

“Cramps?”

“Cramps,” you mumble. “I don’t think you can massage those away, though.”

“No, probably not,” he mumbles. “Not with my hands, at least.”

“With what, then?”

Did he really just say that? You really are a fucking moron, Miller. 

“At Maria’s today, she told me a way to alleviate cramps,” he starts, speaking slowly, like he’s whispering a secret that’s not his to tell. 

“How?”

“Orgasms,” he whispers stiffly. He presses his lips together in a thin line and looks up towards the ceiling. 

“Oh,”

“I could give you some privacy if you wanted to try that out,” he mumbles. 

“Why would you do that?” you turn to look at Joel, who is bashful and looking down. He looks at you with an eyebrow raised, and you continue, “Didn’t you just say you could make the cramps go away, just not with your hands?”

“W-well, yeah, but,” he stutters. 

“I have been so fucking horny. And you’re hard too, so,”

Joel’s eyebrow is still raised, he’s eyeing you suspiciously. “Are you askin’ what I think you’re askin’?”

“You already washed my bloody panties. I’m guessing blood isn’t an issue for you,”

“No, no. ‘Course not. You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah, you know. For science. For the sake of experimentation,”

Joel smirks mischievously. “Nothin’ wrong with a little experimentin’,” he agrees. You smile at the twang of his Texas accent. 

You share another awkward moment, both unsure of how to continue this scientific endeavor. Joel makes the first move this time. “Come here,” he breathes, lifting you into his lap. “Kiss me.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, intertwining your fingers in the grey-brown curls at the base of his neck. His hands are on your waist, holding you steady with your thighs straddling his. He leans forward to capture your lips in a kiss, his lips are slightly chapped but so deliciously soft and warm against yours. He tastes like himself and nothing more, but his taste is addictive nonetheless. 

You grind your pelvis into his bulge, whimpering at the contact on your sensitive heat. You’re craving more than his kisses, needing to feel all of him. His weight on your body, his skin on yours. His member deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your head spin. “More,” you whine. 

He hums in amusement against your lips, thrusting his hips into yours. Cheeky motherfucker. 

You swat his arm lightly. ���Don’t tease, Joel. I need you,”

“I know ya do. Let’s get you warmed up then, hm?” you nod hurriedly, leaning back. Joel pulls you back in for a kiss, his hand snaking under both your sweatpants and panties. “This alright?”

“Yes, fuck,” you whine, bucking your hips into his hand. His fingers dip further, gathering your wetness and circling back up to your clit. He traces slow, steady circles into your bud, taking his time with you. He pushes his middle two fingers deep inside you, fingers curling up and hitting that sweet spot. You gasp and whimper into his mouth. 

Joel loves taking his time with you. Playing with your body like a musical instrument, eliciting moans and whimpers from deep inside. Watching you dance for him, falling to pieces under his touch. 

“So pretty like this,” he praises you. 

You kiss him again and hop off his lap, he pulls his hand away from your core, quickly hiding it from your sight. He doesn’t need you feeling any shame or embarrassment of your body doing what it was meant to do. “Get a towel?” you ask him. 

“‘Course, honey,” Joel sits up and grabs a towel from the linen closet, then walks back to your room. He shuts and locks the door behind him before laying the towel down on the bed. You stand up to meet him, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling off his shirt. He does the same to you, helping you out of your sweats and shirt. You quickly sit down on the towel and he stands before you, cock rock hard, admiring all of the curves of your figure. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

You blush and reach forward to pull him to you. “So are you,” you tell him earnestly. He steps toward you and pushes you back, getting ready to enter you. You put a hand on his chest to stop him. 

“Is everything okay?” his dark brown eyes are big and full of worry. 

“Of course,” you say. “I’m not ready yet. I wanted to taste you,” you admit.

Joel smirks.  “You’re the one bleedin’ and cryin’ in pain, and you wanna taste me?”

You smile back. “For science, right?”

“Sure, sweetheart. For science,” Joel sits next to the towel, you lean over his lap and get ready to take him into your mouth. “Ah ah ah,” he tuts, “Like this.” Sitting next to him on the towel, he instructs you to face him and spread your legs. This way, he says, he can take care of you too. 

You lean over, making sure your heat is still accessible to him. Joel leans back onto the pillows and lets you get to work, his fingers tracing up your thigh before meeting your center once more. Your lips part around his member, tracing the soft and warm skin with your tongue. You moan when his fingers enter you again, voice sending vibrations through his cock. “Fuck, honey,” he groans. 

You play with each other like that for a while, Joel working you open with his fingers and you taking him further and further down your throat. His cock twitches, engulfed in the wet heat of your mouth. 

“Stop, stop,” he begs. “Not gonna last.”

You pull off of him with a pop, and his hands leave your body. You whine at the loss. 

“I know,” he soothes. “C’mere.” Once again, you’re in his lap, hovering over his cock. It’s held loosely between his fingers, tip prodding at your entrance. “Ready?” he asks you, his sparkly brown eyes are looking up at you, his eyebrows raised in anticipation.

“I need you,” you whisper desperately. And with that, Joel notches the tip at your entrance, carefully studying your features to make sure it’s not too much, not too fast, not painful. You steady yourself on his shoulders, fingernails indenting his skin. He pulls your hips down slowly, letting you savor every inch of him. He bottoms out with a deep sigh, and you lean forward to rest your forehead on his. 

“Wait,” he interrupts. You frown with concern, and he bucks his hips up. You let out a yelp, partially in pleasure, partially in surprise. Joel pulls the towel under you both. “There.”

You giggle. “Good idea,” you whisper. You stare down at him, a slight smile on his lips. You start to roll your hips, letting your clit brush the thick tuft of dark hair at the base of his cock. You whimper at the feeling. 

“Feel good, baby?” Joel asks expectedly. 

“So good, Joel” you assure him. “You feel so good,”

Joel pulls your body down to his, letting you rest on your knees. He thrusts into you rhythmically, letting you relax against him. “Fuck, you feel nice, honey. Knew you would,”

You moan and cry, kissing and whimpering into his neck. Using your sounds and the way your body reacts to his touch, he fucks you hard, intently, but gently at the same time. It’s delicious. 

You rock your hips, bouncing on his cock to match each of his thrusts. He hits that sweet spot in you repeatedly, he can feel your walls squeezing him, hear your moans becoming quicker, more frantic. “God, you’re sensitive,” he says. “Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, yes,” you whimper. “M’close, need t-to come,” 

“You can let go,” he speaks softly, voice low and gravelly. “Come for me, baby,”

You lean back, lifting your hips slightly to give his fingers access to your clit. He takes the hint and begins circling your sensitive bud once more. It doesn’t take long before you’re falling apart on his cock, your cries and moans muffled as you bite into his shoulder. 

“That’s it,” he coos, fucking you through it. 

You try to take a second to catch your breath, steady yourself, only Joel has something different in mind. He doesn’t stop fucking your pussy, overworked and overstimulated. Within minutes, you’re coming again, your pussy making a beautiful crimson mess on his pelvis and fingertips. Still fucking you, he watches you come like you’re a work of art in a museum. Taking in every detail, every twitch of your face, the way your mouth drops in pleasure, how your tits bounce with each thrust. 

“Too much, Joel,” you cry. “S’too much, please.”

“You give me one more, baby. C’mon now, want you to come with me,”

“I can’t,” you pant. “I can-” 

“Yes, you can,” he encourages firmly. His voice is sweet but stern, and it is clear your pleasure is not to be negotiated. You will come again. “One more, one more. S’all you gotta do.”

“Fuck, Joel,” 

“I know, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” 

It’s almost painful, but you focus on the pleasure building once again deep inside you. You rock your hips, grinding your clit on the pads of Joel’s calloused fingertips. Right there, right there…

“You’re makin’ such a pretty mess of this cock, darlin’. Wanna fill you up, baby,”

His sweet talking sends you reeling, you love the way he praises you. “M’close again,” 

“Right there with ya, baby,” he soothes. His thrusts are frenzied, cock throbbing inside you. “Now, baby,” he commands. “Fuck, need you to come now.”

Moans and cries spill out of your mouth like liquid sugar, thick and sweet and slow. You come on Joel’s cock for a third time, your body melting into his own. He comes with you, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours to create the most beautiful sounds to fill the room. His voice is deep and desperate, sounding like pure sex as he paints your insides with rope after rope of his seed. 

You slink on top of him, focusing on catching your breath. His skin is sticky and sweaty as he holds you in a tight embrace, his heaving chest lifting you up and down. He pulls out of you, a mess of your fluids dripping onto the towel. You curl up next to him, your head on his chest.

“Cramps?” he asks. 

You shake your head. “All better,” you pause, then speak. “But hold me some more? Please?”

“‘Course, honey. For science, right?”

You smirk. “For science,”

You lay like that for what feels like hours, Joel stroking your back tenderly. One of his strong arms wrapped around your body, his warm hand pressing into your back. His other hand is holding your own, fingers squeezing you comfortingly, thumb tracing back and forth. He presses soft kisses to your forehead, your lips. He’s loving you gently, sweetly, the way you so deserve.

tags: @swiftispunk @rosaliedepp @pedrotonin @kittenlittle24 @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @brittmb115 @bigboiseason123 @laysmt @guiltgoreglory @aubreysylvain @leeeesahhh @oliveg95 @ifall4dilfs @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @harriedandharassed @vickie5546 @louisxosblog @southernbe @ravenouswild @luvrking @r02eg0ld @amythenortherner @walkintheprk @zpandaqueen @silkiers @angel-with-a-heart @kdogreads @boofy1998 @theoremrobin @ihatespoilers @2valentines @happy--birthday--kiddo @elissaaa @paleidiot @brie-annwyl @str84pedro @sesigsss @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @palomaluvsdilfs @kyloispunk @tiredbuthappy @yuk-for-president @jazzy-music-cat @anoverhwhelmingdin @dontatmethebeasts @venus122idkpleaze @nopealoupe @blackvelveteen1339 @monboudoir @darleneslane @bbyanarchist @spideysimpossiblegirl

[ellecdc]

We need dating remus lupin general headcanons with YOUR wonderful writing. Please. 🫶🏻

I don't know if this is my best work - but hopefully this is what you were looking for. Thanks for being here with me &lt;3

Dating Remus Lupin Headcanons

This man was completely oblivious to the draw he had on other people – including you. His quiet, sarcastic, mischievous but kind persona meant he had a lot of admirers that he never did anything about 

I fully believe Remus Lupin was the biggest flirt without necessarily realizing it (or if he did realize it, it wasn’t a conscious action - he really didn’t mean to be flirty, he just was)

Also don’t believe he knew how fuckin’ hot he was: denim jackets, oversized cardigans and knitted jumpers, converse, beanies - like he always looked so comfortable and casual but so put together despite of it?

Stealing his clothes is actually a dream of mine – his denim jacket with patches sewed on and a hole or two????? Need it

Curling up in one of his sweaters and warm socks by the fire? Fuckin’ hell 

His friends knew better than to ever try to (outwardly) set him up with anyone since he was so damn stubborn, so they would just happen to be in the library at the same time as you [the person they’d seen him bantering with in class time and time again] and also just happen to say hey and decide to catch up with you and then also just happen to sit at your table since they were already standing here talking to you anyway.

Forced library dates that neither of you really realized were dates, courtesy of his friends 

Remus caught on after a little while what his friends were trying to do, but didn’t mention anything in case you hadn’t realized yourself; he wouldn’t want to embarrass you

And welcome to the one thing we all sort of hate about Remus Lupin: he of course believed nothing would/could/should ever come about between the two of you

I believe him to be somewhat flighty – the second he realizes he’s falling for you, or, God forbid, realizes you’re falling for him – he hightails it 

Not for long though, I really don’t see James Potter letting him get away with that (Remus is stubborn so he gets ‘his way’ for at least a little before James forces the two of your out of your mutual misery)

I think you guys would grow closer and closer without ever actually saying anything about it:

Sitting beside each other would turn into leaning against one another

Leaning against one another would become the odd cuddle session 

Walking together to class would turn into a gentle hand on the small of your back guiding you through the castle (but also to keep you close) [this is that mentioned unknowingly flirty side] 

Hand on the small of your back would turn into his arm around your shoulder or your hand in his 

And he would prefer it this way, afraid that saying anything would make it too real (flighty), or, that you would deny having feelings for him and that would hurt in an entirely different way

You tried to be okay with it – to pretend that you were satisfied with whatever Remus was willing to give you because, come on, he was one of the most popular boys in school, he was the most well-liked Marauder, he was super smart and a powerful wizard, and he was so sweet to you.

But after a while, you couldn’t deny how much this unspoken space between you was weighing on you – particularly the somewhat routine periods where he’d completely shut you out

Was it you? Had you done something? 

Was he seeing someone else?

Were you just imaging this whole ‘thing’ between you?

He’d get increasingly agitated – almost like he simultaneously wanted you closer to him and further away from him; you’d never know how to help him in these moments

He’d speak more sharply to you, spoke less in general, and downplayed your friendship/relationship when other people would comment on it 

“We’re not even that close, we just study together sometimes” you head him say to Marlene McKinnon

“It’s not like that” he told Benjy Fenwick when he asked if you two were dating 

“She’s just a friend.” He’d said to Sirius, and that one hurt because why would he lie to his best friend? And what about you made it so difficult to see you as more than a friend?

Maybe you really had completely imagined the whole thing in your mind? Maybe he really didn’t care for you at all.

You began to pull away – less study dates, more excuses as to why you couldn’t meet up after class, sitting with Lily or Mary at quidditch games instead, staying at Hogwarts on Hogsmeade weekends – anything to avoid having to face the friend that you quickly realized you were halfway in love with who never even gave you a second thought

He did give you a second thought, though – in fact, he gave you a first thought as well as a third, fourth, fifth and sixth

“Do you think I did something to offend Y/N?” He asked James and Sirius one day – the two exchanged a knowing look 

“Why do you ask?” James asked with a smirk

“I think she might be avoiding me.”

“Does that bother you, Moons?”

Remus scoffed “of course it bothers me”

“I thought she was just a friend?” Sirius taunted

“Sod off...”

Remus couldn’t ignore it anymore – you weren’t just a friend. Never could be in his mind, he doubts. He would be your friend for the rest of your life if that’s all you ever wanted from him – but he’d probably always hold a candle for you; that’s why this divot you seemed to be carving between you two hurt like hell

He decides to do something very un-Remus like and face this head on (thoughts and prayers)

“Hey Y/N” he said gently as he approached your table in the library 

You seemed surprised at seeing him and started packing your things up

“Oh, hi Remus...” and the lack of your usual ‘hey Rem’ furthered his suspicions. “I was just finishing up, actually.”

“Have I done something to upset you?” He blurted suddenly. His assertiveness threw you off kilter – was he...talking? About feelings? You paused in your haste to pack your things

“No?” you said in the form of a question – you knew he picked up on it when the space between his eyebrows dwindled 

“Are you sure? I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately.”

You were starting to get frustrated. “What do you want, Remus?” You asked sharply. He winced.

“I just miss you, is all.” He admitted quietly as he played with a fray on his sweater between his tantalizingly long fingers.

“What exactly about me do you miss, Remus? You have plenty of friends; I hardly see how Sirius, James or Peter can’t fill the same role.”

He guffaws – actually guffawed! The bastard. “What are you on about?”

“What are you on about, Lupin? I’m tired; I’m tired of being called a friend while you keep me closer. I’m tired of feeling like I’m being played by arguably the most important person in my life. I’m fucking exhausted – so tell me exactly what you’re ‘on about’ Remus, and make it count because I’m done.”

“No! No, not done; don’t be done.”

“What do you want, Remus.” You whispered dismally. 

“You.” He whispered back

“Don’t fuck with me, Lupin.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle at you a little bit. “I’m not. I’m not, I swear it – I’m sorry if you’ve felt played by me. I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel anything but loved because... because I do – I love you.”

“Love me?”

“Love you. So much.” He professed as he dared to step closer to you. When you didn’t seem entirely averse to his proximity, he moved to close the gap – enveloping you in a long-needed hug. “I’m sorry.” He apologized again.

“You should be” you murmured petulantly from his chest.

He chuckled and pressed his lips to the top of your head “let me make it up to you?”

And he did – you spent that evening on the astronomy tower, enjoying the view of the stars as they melted into the forbidden forest along the horizon and the rest of the Hogwarts grounds – and he told you his secret, that he was a werewolf

You were the first person he willingly told – James, Sirius, and Peter just figured it out on their own and there was no hiding from them

You were the first person he chose to let in – so uncharacteristic of the lycanthrope, but that just went to show how serious he was about making it up to you and garnering your trust

This changed everything 

There was no more pushing you away near full moons, in fact – he got nearly downright territorial 

No one else was allowed to sit beside you – that was Remus’ spot

He was irritable and snappy with everyone, but instinctively melted at the sight of you

“I can’t believe we survived Moony all these years without Y/N – she’s like a sedative” Peter muttered as he picked up the cards Remus had thrown at him in a fit during their game of exploding snap. There was no sign of that Moony now – smiling down at you as you sat curled up in his lap like he had nowhere else he’d rather be

I believe Remus was the king of trinkets – his dorm was littered with little bits and bobs he found that he thought were cool/interesting

He started gifting you little things once you began dating 

An enamel pin that made him think of you 

A small pewter wolf 

A cool rock that he thought looked like the colour of your eyes (you didn’t see it, but who were you to argue?) 

Little themed snow globes

Flowers he found on his walks 

Pretty beads/crystals 

Tealight candle holders 

The ribbon from a box of chocolates he got from his mum that he thought you would like

Acts. Of. Service. This man didn’t come from money, the way he saw his dad spoiling his mum was through his actions – so this caring attitude came super naturally to him 

Fixing up your tea/coffee the way you like before you’ve even thought about it 

Carrying your bags/books for you 

“Your shoe’s untied, dovey. Give ‘er here.” He said as he patted his thigh for you to place your foot so he could tie it for you

If you got sick/under the weather, he’d totally do your homework for you (his friends have done the same for him due to the moons – pay it forward)

I think he’d be so soft and needy after a moon – just melt into whatever love and care you’re willing to show him; give you complete control and take care of him.

It may have been super hard to get Remus to give love a chance – but once you got it, you were stuck with him because he was not going anywhere 

Loyal to a fault 

He’s so afraid of losing good things that he’s willing (and desperate) to do anything and everything he can to keep it [i.e., you]

Thankfully, you make it very easy to do <3 

[dioll]

— yes to heaven ・ lhs 𐙚

. synopsis ・ after years, you still can’t get over your ex

⊹ ݁ ⋆ — 희승 x reader ・ genre. angst ・ warnings. depression loneliness breakups ・wc. 575 ݁𖥔. enhypen house || yes to me ( part 2 - winter x reader )

it’s been 2 years, 6 months, and 27 days.

‘i’m sorry y/n.. i just don’t feel the spark anymore. i can’t control my feelings.’

‘our memories will always remain in my heart. however, i can’t say the same about my love for you.’

‘goodbye y/n.’

since that day, his heart-wrenching words pierced your soul and was permanently engraved in your brain.

he was all you ever desired, you cursed yourself everyday for losing him.

ever since his departure, you’ve never been the same. your mental state being demolished. you feel empty. you don’t even know when was the last time you smiled.

as if he vacuumed the happiness out of you and left, but he was your sole happiness.

wounds being healed, only for it to be deepened in the end.

you’re invited to a friend’s wedding.

the memories of heeseung flashes through your mind.

it could’ve been you getting married.

‘i’ve got my mind on you.’ you whisper to yourself as soft tears absorb into the wedding-invite.

it’s your friend’s wedding today.

you actually put in effort to look presentable for the special event.

you’re wearing a sleeveless satin dress which is purple, heeseungs favourite colour.

he in fact, bought you the dress. constantly reminding you how purple enhanced your divine features.

your heart felt sore and your eyes dampened due to that memory.

you still loved him.

you loved him more than you loved yourself.

you loved him more than everything, and you know that you always will.

‘if you go, i’ll stay.’ you looked at yourself in the mirror and thought to yourself.

‘you come back, i’ll be right here.’ you watch as a single tear flows down your blush stained cheeks.

the wedding hall is flooded with elegant decor, making you feel like a princess in a palace.

you grab a pink lemonade from the rounded table. black bows being wrapped around the glasses. you admired the detail of the atmosphere.

the music grows louder as more people join the crowd to dance with their partners.

‘hi lovely, do you want to dance with me?’ a cutesy blonde girl by the name of minjeong politely asks you.

you were enchanted by her beauty and gracefulness. her puppy-like features and her welcoming smile made you feel warm.

you wholeheartedly accept her offer, and you have a wonderful time together.

minjeong excuses herself to take an important phone call.

you’re currently dancing alone when you notice a familiar face, none other than lee heeseung.

you’re staring at him as the music volume increases.

‘if you dance, i’ll dance.. and if you don’t, i’ll dance anyway.’

you watch as he dances with his new love, constantly kissing her face and giggling.

he’s happy.

he’s happy whilst you’re trapped in this never ending misery.

you knew that he was going to eventually find someone else to love, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t stop loving him.

‘i’ve got my eye on you.’

minjeong comes back to you, noticing the tears that’s streaming down your face.

she softly wipes your tears, pulling you into a comforting hug. a hug that you needed.

you can’t express your emotions. you don’t even know what you’re feeling.

‘it’s gonna be okay, dove. i’m here for you.’ minjeong tells you, as she caresses you.

‘give peace a chance.’

you may have lost the love of your life, but atleast you found a supporter along this dreadful journey,

kim minjeong.

enhouse residents: @copyhanni @wonifullove @flwrstqr @cupidhoons @cholexc

[papercorgiworld]

Christmas saviours

Blaise, Draco, Enzo, Theo and Mattheo

A bit of an angsty beginning because of some Christmas loneliness, but you need not worry our most handsome Slytherins will save Christmas Eve with fluff and kisses.

Warning: only kisses and maybe some suggestiveness

Not proofread, feedback always welcome.

I planned on finishing another fic, but ended up writing Christmas fluff. I hope you enjoy it! I wish you all a wonderful Christmas and for those who don’t celebrate Christmas, I wish you a most wonderful day.

Christmas, you loved it! Every year you celebrated with your family and created some lovely memories. Although you knew this year would be different, you were confident that also this year you would manage to create wonderful memories.

You had only recently moved to the UK and this was your first year at Hogwarts. You were definitely the odd one out. Everyone in your year already knew each other for years and then there was you: new and permanently lost in the castle. You had made some friends, but also weren’t gonna win any popularity contests any time soon.

The news that your parents had to work this Christmas made your stomach turn and your heart physically hurt. However, you were already in the Christmas spirit so you were hopeful that you could still figure something out. You consoled your parents by telling them that it would be good to spend Christmas at Hogwarts to make friends.

And that was the plan. You invited everyone you had ever talked to at Hogwarts and also everyone from your year. And you learned a lot, like some people really need to learn how to say no in a polite way and most people go home for Christmas. Now Christmas eve was only a day away, two people had confirmed they were coming and there were two people left on your list who hadn’t responded. Possibly four people would show up, worst case scenario two.

Being hopeful and in full Christmas spirit you did your shopping, preparing everything for an unforgettable Christmas eve. On your way from Hogsmeade one of your invitees came running towards you. “Hey (y/n), so glad to catch.” You smiled brightly. “Here to help me with the groceries?” Your friend smiled. “Uhm, no, but I’ll help.” You’re pleased you can let go of some of the heavy bags. “I was actually looking for you, because I got great news, my parents made it back in time after all. So, me and my brother are leaving in half an hour. I'm really sorry we gotta miss out on your Christmas dinner.” Your smile fades, but you immediately force a fake one onto your lips.

Walking into the room of requirement you finally fall apart. You watch as Hogwarts conjures the most picturesque Christmas scene you’ve ever seen. Tears softly make their way down your cheeks, but you don’t sob, you try to ignore your misery. With shaky hands you put everything you bought in its designated spot. When you kneel down to set the four small Christmas gifts you bought under the tree you finally admit to yourself that you’ll be spending tomorrow evening alone, unwrapping your own gifts. After your moment of self pity you make your way down to your dorm.

The next morning you decide that there is still hope! Though the chances are slim, there’s still a chance one of the two who haven’t responded yet will show up or maybe both. You try and find them throughout the day, but fail. Around 5 you start dressing up. Around 6 you light the candles for your grand Christmas eve party.

Your heart twists and turns as it's hurting terribly, like it would rather stop beating than suffer another minute of agonizing loneliness. You stuff your face with delicious snacks. “What was I thinking? Like someone was gonna show up. I watched too many mushy Christmas movies. Christmas is overrated anyway! I’m turning into the grinch! Uh, I’m talking to myself! I’m going insane, might as well steal everyone’s Christmas next year.” You stop ranting and grab a plate, ready to start cleaning up and go to bed at 7.

Blaise

Suddenly the door opens and you stare in disbelief as Blaise Zabini walks in. “I was in the neighborhood, though I would stop by.” Like a deer caught in headlights you stand still. “Early? Aren’t I?” He looks around the empty room and continues. “If you want I can help you prepare.” You look down at your feet wondering what to say. “You look absolutely stunning, by the way.” “Thanks.” You put down the plate you were holding and manage to gather enough courage to be honest. “Everything is ready. And you’re not early. No one showed up.”

Blaise seems shocked by the news and makes his way around the table to you. “What? That’s horrible. All your effort.” His hands rest on your arms, giving you comfort. “I’ll live.” You say playing it down, but your glassy eyes betray you. “But why are you here? I expected everyone to be at their respective parties.” Blaise’s lips formed a line and you could see he was in deep thought for a second. “I am.” You looked confused at the Slytherin in front of you. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.” You frowned and smiled at the same time. Happy with the news but not quite sure what to think about it.

“So… what’s for dinner?” You wanna question everything he’s doing, but his excitement distracts you and you start telling him about all that you had prepared. You two have a lovely dinner together. Blaise is his most charming self as he wants nothing more than to make you forget that no one else showed up. To any outsider it would look as if you two had planned to spend Christmas together. But you kept wondering why he was here. You had to ask. “Why were you in the neighborhood?” A lot of stutters escaped a normally always easy talker, which made you question whether he was in the neighborhood at all. “There was no reason for you to be here, was there?” Realizing it was pointless to come up with excuses, he confessed. “I know I told you I wasn’t coming to your party but I have a little something and that’s why I stopped by.”

You found his choice of words odd. “A little something? Like a gift?” Blaise thought for a moment. “No, not really. Stand up for me will ya?” He got up and you did the same as he requested. He signaled you to come closer and when you still stood too far away he gently tugged your hand until your chest almost met his. He smiled a little goofy and only after a moment did you realize he was nervous. Blaise reached for something in the inner pocket of his jacket. You watch him carefully pull out a branch of mistletoe. He held in between the two of you. “I brought mistletoe.” You laughed as he stated the obvious. “Isn’t it supposed to be above the person you wish to kiss?” He nodded and reached for his wand.

Casting Levioso made the branch float above the both of you. Blaise reached for both your hands and you in return took a step closer. You were now pressed against one another. “Merry Christmas, (y/n).” He leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Blaise.” You whispered against his lips before kissing him.

Draco

The door slams open and you’re shocked to see Draco Malfoy of all people. Is he lost? He looks around smugly, one hand in his pocket and a smirk on his face. “Quiet the party, new girl.” Gesturing towards the empty room. “Trust me the atmosfeer was great until you came in.” You immediately snapped back. He simply huffed and walked towards the table examining all the different dishes. “So where are you guests?” He asked sincerely but without looking up from the food. “I guess everyone had other parties to attend. Understandable.” Your voice was so soft and defeated it made Draco look up at you worried that you might start crying any moment.

He wasn’t really good at situations like these so he quickly made his way over to the drinks. “May I?” He asked politely, gesturing to a bottle of champagne. You nodded. “But it’s probably too cheap for your taste.” Draco gave the bottle one look, shrugged, and opened it anyway. “I’ve already had expensive champagne and cheap company today. Got bored. So I decided to come here for cheap champagne and better people.” You take the glass he offers you. “I’m sorry, it’s a ‘cheap champagne and no people’ kinda party.” He takes a rather large swing from the glass and looks at you with a softness you’ve never seen before. “I’ll take you and your cheap champagne over my family’s horrible Christmas party anytime. So, will you have me as your guest?” You nod with glittering eyes. You quickly explain all the different options your table offers.

He tastes everything and overflows you with compliments. His table manners are exquisite and he even teaches you some little details of fancy dining. But most of all you spent your time laughing at all the ridiculous parties his family organizes. It helps him vent and your laugh makes him heal, like it’s all alright now that you agree it’s just as absurd as he thinks it is. After you’ve finished dining you turn to the tree and the gifts underneath. “If you still have time I’ve got four gifts under the tree. It’s just little trinkets, but to leave them unopened just feels horrible.” The Slytherin stares at you with wide eyes as you make your way to the tree to pick up one of the gifts. When you turn around with a gift in your hands he gets up from his seat in a hurry. “I can’t stay.” Is all he says as he picks up his scarf.

“Just one gift.” Your voice is almost a whisper and Draco closes his eyes for a moment. “It’s just, I have nothing for you. I come barging in, eating all the food and now gifts, while I have nothing to give-“ “You showed up! You saved my Christmas. You’re like my hero.” Draco feels like he’s going to burst with emotion at your words. He… a hero, it made him feel like a whole different person. “Truth is, (y/n) you saved me and not just my Christmas, all of me.” Only now you realize how close together you are with only the gift between you two. He looks so fragile and that’s probably why you suddenly felt the courage and need to go in for a soft kiss. He was shocked for a moment with eyes wide, but surrendered to your warmth and kissed back, his hand reaching for the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

“Will you now open a gift?” You ask again when you break the kiss. He smiles sheepishly. “Yes, anything for my princess.”

Enzo

“I’m here!” You stare at energetic Berkshire as he comes through the door announcing his presence. “Might have nicked something fancy that might just save your Christmas.” He holds a bottle of expensive firewhisky up. “What are you doing here?” You asked, confused by his presence and enthusiasm. His smile softens and he puts the bottle down on the table. “I had a suspicion that the new girl’s Christmas party wasn’t going to be a great success.” You felt horrible hearing him say the obvious. He walked around the table towards you.

“I’m here to keep you company.” You huff at his offer. “I don’t need your pity. I’m sure you have plenty of other places to be.” Enzo grabs your hand as you try to turn away from him in an attempt to hide your misery. “You need my pity, this is a pitiful party.” You try to force your hand out of his grip but he has a surprisingly tight hold of you and you end up closer to him. “And also, there’s nothing for me at the other parties, because the cute new girl isn’t there.”

You look in his gentle eyes wondering if he really means it. “You want to spend Christmas eve with me?” You ask, almost afraid of the answer. He nods and an adorable smile tugs at your lips as you no longer can contain your happiness. During dinner Enzo catches you up on all the latest gossip. But after a while you get worried if people gossip this much at Hogwarts then for sure they will talk about your lame party. It’s this concern that leads you to ask for a favor. “Uhm. Enzo, about my party… could you not tell anybody. Like I can just say that I canceled it. I mean.. I really don’t want people figuring out about my lame Christmas party.”

“Can’t.” You stare at him as he swallows a bite of his desert. “If your party didn’t happen then where was I. I can’t have people thinking I was alone.” “But telling people you were at the new girl’s lame party won’t do your reputation any good either.” Enzo shakes his head and gets up from his seat opposite of you to take a seat next to you. “Darling, this is not a lame party. It’s a lovely party. We’ve got amazing decorations, delicious food, firewhisky, gifts under the tree and each other. Are you not happy?” You turn to him, feeling a bit embarrassed that you were so caught up with what people would think rather than when you think. “Of course, I was being stupid. This is a lovely Christmas, thank you Enzo.”

His smile turns cheeky. “Yeah, I kind of saved your Christmas eve. Didn’t I?” You nod and give him a kiss on the cheek. “Yes, yes you definitely saved my evening.” Enzo licks his lips in a mischievous way. “A kiss on the cheek?! That's all a guy gets for saving Christmas?” You laugh at his dramatics. You fake a scoff and get up from your seat. “Enzo, have you no shame.” Suddenly he grabs you pulling you into his lap, a giggle escaping your lips. “No.” He states and wiggles his eyebrows. “Fine.” You kiss him softly and bite his lip softly while purposely pressing your chest against his, giving him more than he bargained for. The kiss deepens and his hand slips to your thighs resting there and gently squeezing. “I definitely know some guys who’re going to be jealous when they hear about this party.” “Shut up, Enzo.” You say playfully before kissing him again.

Theo

Theodore Nott? Unbelievable? To avoid any snarky comments you decide to diss yourself before he gets the chance. “Welcome to the most boring Christmas party ever.” Theodore simply snorts at your fake enthusiasm. “Pretty sure, I just came from the world’s most boring Christmas party.” You huff. “Wow, I suck even in organising lame parties.” Theo looks around. “Pretty sure this doesn’t qualify as a party.” You narrow your eyes, how does he manage to always have the last word.

“What are you doing here, Nott?” You ask as your frustration with Theo beats the sadness over your party. “If I remember correctly you said my Christmas enthusiasm was as overrated as my academic skills.” Theodore can’t help but roll his eyes. women and their need to remember every stupid thing he says. “Sounds like me, probably was me. But clearly I’m desperate… so, do you take in strays?” Your attitude disappears as you look at him, he was in his way sincerely asking if he could stay.

“Of course. You’re very welcome.” Your voice comes out with a little more doubt than planned, but Theo takes your welcome anyway. You both sit opposite of one another. “You must be really desperate if you came to my party?” You ask softly, no snarkiness in your tone. “You must be really desperate for a guest if you let me in, after all I’ve not been my kindest self around you.” You look at the food on your plate. “I’m really desperate, since obviously no one bothered to show up aside from you. But also I can see the humor in most of the insults you throw at me.” A warm smile appears on the slytherin’s face, feeling understood and a little less bad.

For the most part your evening is filled with humorous insults and snarky comments, but as time passes your rivalry ebbs away. The conversations get more serious and Theo almost exclusively has words of endearment for you. His softness envelopes you and your Christmas joy finds its way to Theodore. After lounging on the couch for a while you pull yourself back up. “Gifts? I’ve got four and they’re all for you.” He growls gutturally. “I don’t like gifts, plus I don’t have one for you.” You frown. “Who doesn’t like gifts? You absolute weirdo.” Theo laughs at your unfiltered opinion of him. He pushes himself to sit straight and watches you pick out the first gift. You don’t see how fragile he looks as he watches your gentleness.

When you go sit next to him and joyfully present him the gift he looks in your eyes. “Come on.” You urge like an impatient child. “Fine, but me first.” You frown and purse your lips. “You said you didn’t have anything.” Out of his pocket a fumbled piece of paper appears. “It’s not something I wanted to share, but it’s Christmas right, so why not.” He nonchalantly pushes it to you, waving the paper impatiently, like he wants to be rid of it. When you take it he looks away avoiding your confused gaze. You ignore his bizarre behavior and gently unfold the paper, revealing a sketch of you: you paying attention during class, probably transfigurations.

Theo’s still looking at anything but you. You shuffle closer to him and cup his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You drew this? I love it. Thank you.” “You’re a bit of a distraction during class. Probably why I’ve been picking on you.” A soft laugh rolls over your lips when you hear his confession. “And how do I distract you? As you can see all I do is pay attention like a good student.” You hold the sketch up to him as proof. “You do a lot more than that, (y/n). You get me thinking.” You can’t contain your smile. “I get you thinking? How awful of me.” He hisses at your mockery, but when he closes what little space there was between the two of you, your confidence fades. “You have me thinking about doing this” His lips catch yours, he kisses you with so much passion your whole body goes crazy for him in an instant. When he finally releases you, your head feels hazy. “What’s that all about?” Theo grins, enjoying the obvious effect he has on you. “This is my Christmas spirit, I’m feeling generous.” Is all he says before he pushes you to lay on the couch and continues to kiss you with unrelenting passion.

Mattheo

You hear noise at the door and turn to look at it slowly open. You hold your breath, still holding the plate as Mattheo Riddle walks in. Holding flowers in one hand and a gift bag in the other. He looks at you, but you just stare quietly and then he looks around the room. “Oh, I’m too late. I’m so sorry.”

Mattheo Riddle, Slyhterin bad boy, Slytherin trouble maker, son of the dark lord, most handsome guy in your year - maybe even all of Hogwarts - show up to your lame Christmas party with flowers and apologies. Weird. You had indeed invited him, when you announced that everyone was welcome during potions class but you were pretty sure he was among the people making fun of you.

You snapped out of your thoughts, someone was here, you were in no position to be picky about who it was. “No, you’re not late.” He looks confused at the empty seats. “Then where is everyone?” You look around feeling exposed, but look back up at his questioning face. You bite your lip, trying to think of a lame excuse but finding none. “Uhm, no one showed up, except for you.” You eventually manage to say, eyes getting glassy. Mattheo makes a soft ‘oh’ sound and you quickly try to get rid of the awkward situation.

“There’s plenty of food if you wanna stay. And also four gifts for you, since you know no one showed up.” Mattheo stays silent for a few seconds. “But you don’t have to stay, this probably isn’t your ideal Christmas eve.” The slytherin simply shrugs. “It’s not like I have anything better to do and the food looks divine.” You can’t help but chuckle as the awkwardness ebbs away. “Flowers for the hostess.” He offers you the lovely winter bouquet he had been holding. A blush creeps up to your cheeks as you take them and conjure a vase.

Dining together has you feeling like you’ve known Mattheo your whole life. You’re surprised by so many things he tells you, but most of all by how easy it is to talk to him. After the desert you make your way to the couch near the Christmas tree. With the table between the two of you gone things feel different and you both fall silent. “You were actually the last person I thought would show up and yet here we are. I hope you’ve enjoyed yourself so far. Because I definitely have.”

Mattheo stares at you fondly but doesn’t say anything. “Anyways let’s start with the gifts.” As you stand up to reach for one of the gifts Mattheo pulls you down. You now sit so close that your hips are touching and he’s still holding on to your wrist. “This whole evening has been wonderful. You’re wonderful, (y/n).” It sounds like a love confession and you hold your breath. “And at the risk of ruining this evening, I would like to kiss you. Is that okay with you?” Your heart melts, you can’t believe this and no one at Hogwarts will ever believe this. You nod softly, insecure about what you’re getting yourself into.

His hand holds your cheek and you lean in as his lips reach yours, light as a feather his lips brush yours. Ever so slowly Mattheo deepens the kiss, making you go crazy with desire for more. When you lay your hand on his leg for support he sees it as a signal that you are comfortable with him and snakes an arm behind you to pull you closer. Only when the kiss ends do you realize you’re laying in his arms. “When I said let's start with the gifts I didn’t know one of the gifts was wrapped up with a tie and good looks.” You joke as you undo his already loose tie. He smirks as he watches you all comfortable and confident in his arms.

His free hand reaches for your leg urging you come sit on his lap with your legs on either side of him. He pulls you in for another tender kiss. “I did actually bring a gift for you. So if you really want to unwrap-“ You cut him off by slamming your lips into his with passion and eagerness. He complies and pulls you closer into him until there’s no space left. “And here I thought you were all innocent and cute.” Mattheo says, clearly entertained by your enthusiasm. “I’m, I’m just being a good hostess by making sure my one and only guest is having a good time.” Mattheo’s face lights up with genuine happiness. “No doubt you’re a good hostess, pretty sure you would make a wonderful girlfriend as well.”

[eetherealgoddess]

Before you continue, this ends dark as hell so I’m gonna warn you rn!!! Hope you like it anyway! ♡︎♡︎

ꨄEscaping Bonten is for Scrapsꨄ

Oneshot - Yandere Bonten/Assassin Au

❦You are an assassin that’s after a target Bonten already has their paws on❦

Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader

Not fully proofread

MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!

I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.

Notice:

✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.

✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.

✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.

✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.

✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable

✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.

Enjoy!

Escaping Bonten is for Scraps

You eye around the busy nightclub, pushing through the crowd as you search for your assigned target. Eyebrows furrowed as your nose scrunches at the thick tobacco smell mixed with alcohol and a variety of cologne and perfume.

“Where is this guy?” You hiss, shoving a drunk person to the side as you head to the back of the building. Once you push the doors open, you see the tall staircase, sighing before stepping on.

Why did I have to get assigned to a club?

It’s not that you were against the party scene, it’s just not ideal for a mission to find someone you need to kill. Your boss chose you for the assignment created by a bitter divorcee. You roll your eyes as you remember the file stating, “Please murder my cheating ex husband.” Of course, your company is underground and perfect for not being caught, though why risk going to prison over a cheating spouse?

Fortunately, this should be fairly quick. The soon to be deceased spouse is known for his drinking habit, speaking belligerently as he drunkenly walks from bar to bar which makes him an easy target. You followed him here, his third club of the night. You couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him considering he is just minding his business and drinking on his lonesome. Sure, he’s bitter as well and is a slob but it’s probably just a down point in his life.

At least I’ll put him out of his misery.

Once you reach the top of the staircase, noticing that the whole floor is empty, you pull your gun out, readying it to use. You hold it down to your side as you walk from room to room, searching for your victim. When you see that the whole upper stairs is empty, you hide your gun, and walk towards the exit of the room you just entered. Your eyes widened when you heard a scream coming from behind you.

You turn around and quickly move to the window, squatting, hiding yourself behind the wall so the people outside couldn’t see you. Easing your head up, you peeked to the outside. Standing at the back of the building, a group of men in suits hover around a kneeling man who’s covering his head as one of the men slams his foot against his side, causing him to fall over. You notice a smaller man who stood in the middle of the suited men walk closer to the male on the ground.

Your eyebrows raise when the man is forced to put his arms down as the shorter man crouches in front of him, realizing the guy is your target.

“What did this guy get himself into?” You whisper to yourself before moving quickly to crack the window so you can decipher what’s occurring.

“You owe us a lot of money, Nakamura.” A man with two blonde strands says, his wide eyes staring deeply at the victim.

“I-I know! I’m going th-through a divorce. I j-just need more time!” He coughs out blood in between his words. The short man in front of him leans in.

“You’ve wasted my time.” He stands up before moving back, motioning for the purple haired man holding the baton to walk forward.

He swings his arms back before slamming them down with a smirk on his face. He repeatedly hits the man over and over again with so much force that blood splatters on his own suit. The man cries out in pain as he becomes light headed.

You wince as you watch this painful sight.

Damn, now I’m feeling even more bad for this guy. I think I’m just going to go ahead and shoot him. Help him out, forreal.

Standing up completely, you aim at the man’s head perfectly with the gun. Without needing the other guy to stop beating him, you pull the trigger, a shot ringing out loudly. The bullet penetrates his head, killing him on the spot. The men, startled, looked around their surroundings as the pink haired man turned to the window, his blue eyes catching yours before you turned on your heel and ran.

“Fuck, he saw me!” You hiss as you run down the stairs, gun hidden as you push through the crowd.

Fortunately, it looks as though you all are into some shady business, though that doesn’t mean you want to catch their attention. You run out of the exit and rush to your car parked at the side of the building.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You rush to unlock the car before hopping in. Before you could close the door, a hand blocks the door. Your wide eyes meet purple orbs before you're pulled out of the car by your shirt. Before you could grab your gun, your front is forced against the car as your gun is grabbed and aimed at your head. The man with the purple mullet holds your arms behind your back with one hand. Before you could say anything, the butt of the gun meets your head, darkness engulfing your vision.

When you first wake up, your eyes meet a dimly lit warehouse, a throbbing pain at the side of your head causes you to pull against the restraints you didn’t know were there to touch your head. Groaning your eyes, the rope strategically tied around your ankles strapping you to the chair.

“Damn.” You breathe out. The click of a gun sounded next to your head causing you to make eye contact with the blue-eyed man you saw before.

“You’re an assassin working for an underground company, right Y/n?” You look up to see the short man sitting on a chair in front of you at a distance. The men stood around him, eyeing you.

“Who am I answering to?” You question, resulting in the gun being pushed against your head harder causing you to wince, the spot where you were once hit feeling raw under the barrel of the weapon.

“I don’t repeat myself.” The sunken eyed man states, his white hair hovering over his face.

“Yes.” You spit out, frustration being the only emotion to decipher at the moment.

“You work for Bonten.” You gasp at the familiar name.

“What the hell are you talking about?” The gun smacks against your face, forcing your head to lean to the side as you squeeze your eyes shut in pain.

“Watch your mouth.” The pink haired man growls, using one hand to force your head back in place before replacing the barrel in the same spot.

“You will keep your assassin title and you will work under the executives.” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Or what?” You hiss. The pale man signals for the taller short haired man to walk towards you holding his baton. He smiles before pulling it back and slamming it against your stomach. You lean forward before coughing out blood.

“You die.” Your new boss states.

A few months pass before you’re completely used to the yakuza scene. There are times when you wonder what exactly did they see in you to ‘hire’ you as an assassin working under the executives. It wasn’t a hard job, basically like the one you were used to besides the power dynamic. Although you worked under an old boss, he treated everyone equally and you had normal coworkers who you’d go out to the bars with occasionally. You were free to live your own life as long as you didn’t get caught.

Working under Bonten, you weren’t allowed the same freedom as your executives. Your job title was assassin but considering their low respect for you, sometimes you were a maid, assistant, butler, etc. At least that’s what it felt like when you had to run errands for them that didn’t involve shooting a bullet in someone’s head. Sure it’s nicer than killing but who wants to work to serve a bunch of disrespectful men?

Not to mention, you weren’t allowed outside without being accompanied by one of the executives. Of course, the executives you wouldn’t mind being around such as Mochi, Kakucho, Koko, and Takeomi weren’t the ones who accompanied you. It was always the Haitani brothers, Kazutora, or Sanzu. Even when you’re supposed to be off the clock you were always around at least one of them. You no longer have your own apartment and have to stay in a designated room in a penthouse that holds all of your rooms, though everyone else owns their own homes.

Currently, you are sitting in the vip section of one of the Haitani brother’s clubs, arms crossed along with your leg as you lean back on the couch. Kazutora plops next to you with a drink in hand along with one of the strippers in the other, her bare breasts out as she holds onto him.

“You don’t look so happy, Y/n. Should we have taken you to a male strip club?” He taunts, finding amusement in her pouty face.

“I’m glad you find humor in my suffering. I just want to go to bed.” You respond.

A dip on your other side causes you to turn your head to meet Sanzu who has a speck of white dust under his nose. He wipes using his sleeve before handing you a cup of alcohol.

“Live a little, yeah?” You raise a brow as you push the drink away. You had to admit how interesting it was to see the different contrasts between the infamous mad dog. One minute he’s all serious for ‘his king’ and the next he’s sniffing angel’s dust off of a stripper's ass. Interesting indeed.

“I don’t know what you put in that.” You state before turning away from him.

“Then take this. It’s just champagne.” Rin smirks as he hands you another glass from a separate chair, man spreading as he smokes a blunt.

“And I should trust you, why?” You roll your eyes before standing up.

“Where are you off to?” Ran asks as his hand grips the butt cheek of the stripper sucking his neck.

“Bathroom.” You state before walking out. You eye the guards before heading to the restroom.

You walk to the sink and lean over, staring at yourself in the mirror as you think your life over and what brought you to this point. You swiftly turn your head when someone walks into the bathroom. You notice the woman is wearing a poorly done wig with a coat on. You contemplate whether or not you should knock her out and disguise yourself so you can make a run for it.

My morals have always been skewed anyway. I’m sorry lady.

Before she could walk into the stall, you grab her and press her pressure point, catching her before she falls. You undo her coat and set the purse on the ground, lying her head on it gently before pulling her wig off. Setting the wig on as well as the coat, you walk out of the bathroom.

You walk at a steady pace to look anything but suspicious while keeping your head down. When you successfully pass the guards you make a run for it, rushing out of the club and finding a taxi to pick you up, throwing your phone out of the window for safety from a tracking device.

Your adrenaline pumps as the hairs on your body stand. You breathe heavily as you give the taxi man the direction to your old company’s headquarters. When you got there, you ran into the building in search of your boss. When you find his office, you push the doors open and run towards the man who looks at you with shock.

A year passes and he helps you back on your feet. Staying as an assassin would have been dangerous considering the first place Bonten searched for you was the headquarters. Fortunately, he has a family who owns different businesses so you currently work at a bakery on the farthest side of a city hours away from where you used to reside.

One night, you were cleaning up the floors, closing the store. You had already locked the door so you were confused when you heard someone entering the building. Looking up, you dropped the broom when you recognized Mikey standing in front of the door with a gun pointed at you. Before you could move, a hand wrapped around your mouth as someone grabbed your arms, pulling you against a chest. You struggle in their hold.

Your eyes widen when you see your boss and his family consisting of his wife, two of their adult children, and one child being dragged in wrapped in rope and bags over their heads. You scream against the hand.

“Relax and everything will go smoother.” The voice she recognized as Kazutora states behind her.

Once the other men force everyone on their knees in front of her, they pull the bags off their heads.

She screams once more when she makes eye contact with all of them, tears running down her face for the first time at the face of death.

No they can’t do this! This can’t be happening!

Complying to Mikey’s order, Kazutora removes his hand from her mouth as he locks arms with hers. She pulls against him as she tries to release herself, to no avail. The Haitani brothers watch in amusement as they stand behind the two adult kids. Sanzu stands behind the child as Mikey moves to stand behind the boss.

“This is your fault.” He says to you, glaring before he sets his gun to the man’s head. The child cries along with the mother and the children. The man’s eyes are wide as he looks to the side in the direction of his family. They were prevented from talking, mouths bound shut as they squeal and groan.

“Mikey! M-Mikey please don’t do this! I-I’ll stay this time I swear to god! Please… just kill me or something d-don’t take it out on them!” You cry out, devastated by the display as the guilt takes over.

“Sanzu.” He states. Everyone watches as he sets the barrel of the gun on the child’s head, pulling the trigger before anyone could think. There was a pause as the shot rang out, the blood and brains splattering against his siblings, the wall, and the floor.

“STOP! NO MORE!” You let out a blood curdling scream. You pull and pull against Kazutora as he grips you tighter.

Your boss wails against his restraints angrily, falling over when he attempts to stand up, lying pitifully on his side as he kicks his feet and pulls against the rope. The wife and their children cry out, tears dropping fast as they squeeze their eyes shut.

“Haitanis.”

“NO! NO MIKE-!” The shots rang out, more blood and brains splattering as their limp bodies fall to the ground, one sibling with half of their head gone as well as the other along with an eyeball, their blood reaching their mother as she completely bends over and cries.

Mikey aims at the wife shooting her twice before her limp body falls, the husband still as he weeps for his deceased family. Kazutora allows you to drop to your knees. Hands placed on the ground as you become light headed. Finally, vomit shoots up your throat as you release the contents on the ground. Gagging and belching as your body shakes, wet with sweat.

This must be my karma for all of the wrong doings. This must be how people feel when they see their loved ones die.

“I-I’m so sorry, Akihiko. I’m so fucking sorry.” You whine out, tears and snot falling as you become a wreck. He looks at you with despair.

“Please, escape the-!” Before he could finish his sentence, Mikey had already blown his brains out.

You gaze at the messy floor with a blurry vision and wide eyes. Footsteps stop in front of you, missing the vomit. Mikey crouches down and pulls you by the chin to look up at him, gun still in the other hand.

“If you try to leave again, I’ll blow your legs off.”

[11queensupreme11]

“Brother,” Poseidon turned to him, and gods—Hades couldn’t believe this—his eyes were still glittering. “I… must thank you.” “...Thank me?” He barely uttered out. He nodded. “Yes. When Percilla was born, I initially wanted nothing to do with her, but I knew I had no choice but to raise her. I fathered her heartlessly, but it was you who stuck around and made sure I cared for her well. You protected her from my rage and you taught me that I needed to act as a proper father for her and love her as my daughter. If it wasn’t for your insistence—as annoying as it was—I might not have given Percy a chance. I would not have realized how wonderful of a child she is, and how lucky I am that the bifrost has blessed me with her.” This was probably the most words he had ever heard his usually apathetic brother ever speak in one go and all Hades could feel was despair. Poseidon was in love for the first time ever and while Hades would’ve happily celebrated this never-before-seen occasion, he had to fall in love with Percy of all people—the very girl Hades wished to marry. And now he couldn’t.

*CLOWN MUSIC*

Sorry, I'm re-reading cause I miss a few (a lot) updates, and, when I read this…

Gold comedy, clown-to-clown conversation.

(I'm about to excuse my behavior, but I'm letting everything in one ask, so if it's dirty, well, I'm the kind of lector you were (hopefully) waiting and here we don't kink shame)

Anyway, cause I'm a basic bitch, I'm going to do my usual review, no new memories here.

Chapter 33

I'm going to say, that Percy being trained to accept Poseidon's love is hot from you, I can see her falling to control herself (that said, can we applaud her control? My girl, that man is GORGEOUS and he's almost in his knees (to lick) trying to convince you to ride that)

(uncontrolled laugh Poseidon's balls are a particularly pretty shadow of blue) (Please have mercy queen. To him or us, I'm not made for a slow burn, I like things fast, and I have 0 patience and less auto control)

(Do you think Annubis can smell Aphrodite is near cause she always smells like rough sex? almost like an orgy-) (That tongue tho, some of your ask are DIRTY queen)

“Talk!” She demanded. “I’m in love with you,” he slurred.

Is their equivalent to: "Come out!" "I'm gay"

Loki being into choking is so him, I love him, my favorite nasty boy, he's so desperate someone needs to give him the talk about self-control

(Percy anytime she meets a god: Damn, that is some abs. My girl, how would you deal with normal bodies after being exposed to them? One night sleeping in Poseidon's tits and I'd never be the same)

Me, looking as Loki protects Percy: ✨Progress✨

No matter if it went to the burning trash with Percy's cruel comment, it's a yandere history, I am always ready to see her building her misery (saying that, I love her and wish her happiness)

Hades being miserable is something I need to think about, why him being in love with Percy is worse in my mind? It almost felt like a lie when he protected her when she arrived ROR, worse than Poseidon was open about his intentions, and never faked his desires...

Love to see him destroying this almost peace, drama is the rule here, after all.

Chapter34

Beelzebub and Loki, fighting over Percy like dramatic teenagers:

Did you just make Hades kidnap Percy?

Why I'm surprised, is canon Hades' behavior.

(Poseidon, why the fuck didn't you put a GPS in her? She needs it)

QUEEN

QUEEN

THE FUCK?

THAT IS A CHAPTER

PLEASE SAVE HER

(Trio with Loki and Beelzebub? 🥹)

And you dare to be surprised about why I'm a full supporter of them.

They may not have morals, no mental stability, no auto control, toxic as Chernobyl, be the worse or the worse, have 0 consideration about Percy's desires, be the ones to most hurt her, manipulate her and everyone around them, and...

Anyway, you know what more are they?

Loyal motherfuckers (when Percy is pregnant lol)

No doubt, they would fight the gods and their ridiculous superpowers for her.

Love them, with this, they'd need to torture Percy to me into letting them go.

I have my pink heart-shaped glasses stuck to my face.

(I'm so afraid, please don't make me a clown here queen)

Chapter 35

If I die, Percy better grieve for me for the rest of her life! Loki thought as he was about to launch another attack, but then—

My boy, I would cry for you, I love you, and I don't care you lost her my baby, I'm your defender, your shield, your weapon against your haters, I have no shame, fight me in the mud-

Anyway, Percy should thank Annubis riding him, just saying

(I'm forcing the memory of human meat out of my brain. I'm a hannigram fan too)

Percy getting in her attic wife era, is so nice! Scape is part of the experience ❤️❤️❤️

(Knotting, belly bulge, heat, and omega/alpha dynamic? all of that for us? 🥹 finally someone who knows Annubi's real potential)

Imagine Annubis cutting his claws cause it hurts Percy and then after the sex Percy has enough bite marks to be mixed with a chewing toy.

No going to lie, Anubis is my kind of yandere favorite, the one that makes you feel safe until it hits you that he's dangerous. Bright smile and toxic thoughts ❤️

Chapter 36

Cú Chulainn? *looks at his photos* who´s that cutie and who dares to hide him from me?

Hades really looks at his siblings as kids and Poseidon is a baby throwing tantrums. Meanwhile, I consider that he's the worse, seeing how he stole Percy cause he was horny.

Who am I to judge?

On the other side, Anubis casually rizzing up Percy, showing how good a father he is, enjoying Hade's work to make her stay in hell and Loki's cape to hide her...

Know what? That'd work for me, give me some of that dream family life, I'd stay

Kebechet calling her mom: ❤️😘

Percy, that's a literal child, younger even than her clothes: This is okay, I guess? at least it's no incest for once

Chapter 37

Omg, I love Percy so much, she's so stupid.

What do you mean that you're staying with an (I hope) single father, his daughter, sleeping with them, using the clothes he gives you, the (no really) child calls you mom, the father picks you all the time, you're cooking for them and doing everything you see in family movies and you don't see anything wrong?

YOU'RE MAKING A BIRTHDAY CAKE PERCY, YOU'RE MOM

Her face flushed in embarrassment. “Can you please just…?” She motioned downwards.

He grinned in understanding. “Oh, right.”

He lowered himself down into a squat just so that she could be ‘taller’ than him 

One time, this guy did this for me... rizz me like no one else. I'd say this is the peak of romance, especially if you remember that he's very playful, so it's like having a golden retriever looking at you.

And his manipulation tactic is being cute! (no really but almost) so he's perfect for Percy, they can act cute together and annoy the rest together.

He's my favorite I think... I'm not sure, I am still a Poseidon's stan, and as I say, Loki and Belzeebub are my babies... but Annubis...

I just know the fall is going to go horrible for me, queen

Chapter 38

Anubis is worried cause his new wife is sick and he can't say anything ☹️☹️

“Come ooon, who’s a good boy?”

He perked up. “I am!”

That's a golden, no, wait.

This is your dangerous yandere? I just see a good boy 🙄🙄

She gave him a suggestive look.

A large smirk crawled over his face as he stepped closer to her, their bodies nearly touching. He reached down to grasp her hands. “We… can finally…”

“Decorate for her birthday party!” They cheered in unison.

...

Just fucking marry and leave alone. They're so cute, recording together and talking about colors. *Sniff* What else do you need? that's married couple behavior.

AND, technically, he isn't lying, he's very sincere about her papel in the family, she's just an idiot who can catch a sign even if it was given to her.

Yes, he doesn't talk about the other... but, you don't have to talk about your exes, that's no sin, your honor.

That's a good man Savannah. A GOOD MAN

AND YES, MAYBE, he was calling Percy his wife, but also, giving first love, giving I love her so much.

You know, he respects her like the others don't, and *cries* It's going to hurt me so much if you make him like the others.

I know that he probably killed the other, maybe ate them too, but like, did they Kebechet cry? cause then they deserve it.

Queen, I just love him, don't make him so bad... or do it but in a hot way at least.

(Would be so funny if he's married and she isn't, would hurt so much)

Queen, how can you divide this beautiful family? forget about sending her to her home, just drink Meng Mo's soup, and stay happy with them.

Amazing like always, queen, have a roller coaster of emotions, I'd do it again.

Imagine if Nico were there to witness everything, he'd be a good godfather to Kebechet, play with her, and teach her about his game.

What a good and wonderful family 🥹🥹🥹

omg hiiiiiiii

i love your chapter reviews lmao, this one especially made my day 😂😂😂😂😂

I ALSO LOVE HOW IMPATIENT YOU ARE FOR THE REAL SMUT LMAOOO I ALREADY WROTE THE FIRST FULL SMUT CHAPTER FOR ACT 2 AND I WILL NOT SAY WHO'S THE ONE SNATCHING PERCY'S VIRGINITY HEHEHEHE I'M GONNA LEAVE YOU GUESSING IN DESPAIR

"Omg, I love Percy so much, she's so stupid" she really is, she's not connecting ANY dots; anthonius is usually in charge of the brain cells and unfortunately the bifrost forgot to take her one last brain cell left before it yoinked her into the ror verse 💀💀 beelzebub occasionally lends her a brain cell or two but only if she's good 😔

AND YES ANUBIS IS A GOOD BOY, THE GOODEST BOY EVER 🥺🥺🥺🥺 yes he's a yandere and yes i'm gonna fuck him up, but he will STILL BE PERCY'S GOOD BOY NO MATTER WHAT 😤😤😤 and kebi will always be #1 daughter!!!! 😤😤😤😤😤

anuby is actually soooo wholesome if you enjoy the yandere aspects of it (so like.... 90% of the whole ship LMAO) they're just so sweet to each other. just one lil happy family; a 7'5" tall unhinged death god and his cute lil wife who doesn't know she's a wife and their lil snakey daughter 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[ome-magical-ramblings]

My Review of The Greatness of Saturn

A Therapeutic Myth

The frequency of my writing have been decreasing as I have had my focus on my life, deepening my practice and so on. I hope that this review serve as a initial summary and representation of everything I got out of this myth without spoilering it...because why would I? it would ruin the story for you! In Any case I wanted to start this on a good start. The whole book is surrounding the Sade Sati Period or 7 and a half years where Saturn goes the sign before, in, and after the moon's natal placement, that means it spend 2.5 years in each sign. Saturn is slow and he makes it very apparent when he goes into it. For reference this is focused on the jyotish/sidereal astrological period and not on the usual less gloomy Saturn's return.

I am honestly surprised by how powerful myths can mesh and seep into our life that they become these forces that's almost a channel or a gateway for the deities and spirits to reach us through, it honestly make me think of the stories of prophets, and other mythological stories which moves us and where we really need to throw ourselves head first into them to really feel what they mean, their sorrows, happiness, and all the emotions of the stories to really be there. Anyway back to the book itself, I was mind blown by it's effect on me and my life as I started to get into the myth itself I was genuinely HOOKED during my travel and in the airplane I felt like I was seized/possessed by it and couldn't put it down almost like the spirit within the whole myth was carrying me with it. It definitely had a lot of impact considering the personal situations I was going during the time of reading it. The invocation of delay, slowness, and wanting to move but not being able to move was apparent to say the least, Saturn really makes time slow down to a halt and whatever seemed like a small time start expanding to feel like an eternity, but enough of that. The stories of the planets from Sun to the lunar nodes was quite a thriller from first chapter until the ninth then it took a very sudden turn. The Begging of the universe were Bali the asura(and future Indra) gave the land back to the devas it felt like it was setting up the scene for the theme of Time, the theme of inevitability but not of fatalism. The whole story took a very dark turn for the protagonist of the story (King Vikrama) and everything about it was about accepting the conditions, working with them, and so on. Again it is this consciously aware of the situation and the wavering faith that made King Vikrama fall into that situation even though he did the proper astrological remedies he regretted and felt uncertain of what he was doing, he really accepted his fate and fell into fatalism that threw him into that.

Ducunt volentem fota, nolentem trahunt

The fates lead him who will; him who won't they drag.

Had he accepted Saturn in the beginning, the king would never have had any problems (or at least they would have been fewer), for once he accepts, all is well. It was necessary though that someone be dragged through the depths of Saturn's "play," that the rest of us who can learn from his example might be exempted from the worse of it. Like Jesus, who was crucified that we might be saved, King Vikrama asks that others be spared his Misery.

I know, I haven't really said anything about the story or what not because I really want you to read it and go through it yourself. Other than that the aspect of the Graha/planetary forces become more of this apparent and conscious relation with the planets, we start to become more aware of it and thus more receptive to positive possession instead of being negatively possessed by it. In the end we are all getting possessed by all the forces and a thousand thing in a way, and just like that maybe we want to get possessed by positive forces instead of letting whatever come through pass through us. In a way I want to finish this review that this book have pulled forces in my life I wouldn't have been able to pull with my own ritualistically consecrated hands nor would I conceive of a way that would let me wrangle and subjugate the forces myself, the great supreme power of the myth was shown to me in action, in real life, and in words.

Salutation to Lord Saturn, I bow to him who's great Kona (the Angle), Antaka (the Terminator), Raudra (the Fierce), Yama (Death), Babhru (the Tawny), Krishna (the Black), Shani (the Slow), Pingala (the Tawny). Manda (the Slow), Sauri (the Sun's Son); reverence to that Son of the Sun who, when thus constantly remembered (by these names), removes all Afflictions. May Lord Saturn have mercy on us.

[stardustprompts]

brother - ania ahlborn sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying tw ;  death , horror , language , murder , abuse

‘get away from me! get away, you fucking freak!’

‘why are you doing this?’

‘you couldn’t change if your life depended on it.’

‘oh, what? suddenly you can’t take a goddamn joke?’

‘you’re my trouble. ever think about that?’

‘what’s with you questioning every goddamn thing today?’

‘i’m tired of someone else telling me how to live my life.’

‘it feels bad for someone to mess with your shit, huh? it feels bad for them to do what they want with it like it belongs to them instead of you, doesn’t it?’

‘i’m sick and tired of your shit, (name). this is your last chance.’

‘just remember, if you ain’t my friend, you ain’t friends with no one.’

‘i’m not gonna be weird.’

‘so you’ve got some taste after all. good to know. though I already suspected that.’

‘I just feel like I’m suffocating. don’t you ever feel like you don’t belong somewhere, like you’re out of place?’

‘you know what they say—- some people get addicted to feeling bad because whenever they feel good they feel guilty.’

‘what’s wrong? you say something stupid?’

‘must be nice knowing someone’s taken an interest in you, huh? must feel good to get some attention instead of being ignored all the time.’

‘can you think about it? you able to process that little nugget of hard fucking truth?’

‘your mind’s getting muddy. you ain’t thinking straight.’

‘sometimes things only make sense in retrospect.’

‘I guess I just wanna see what else is out there. it wouldn’t be so bad seeing it if I wasn’t alone.’

‘don’t forget who you’re talking to, shithead.’

‘I asked you a fucking question. you best answer before I get pissed.’

‘you want her you gotta bring her into the fold.’

‘I was just kidding, you idiot. take a fucking joke.’

‘I told you. it’s a secret. you can’t come.’

‘nobody’s gonna hear ya. nobody’s gonna save ya. nobody’s gonna remember. i’m gonna wipe ya out.’

‘you protect me, don’t you? because you love me.’

‘I don’t wanna talk about her. I just wanna go to sleep.’

‘you already forgot me. i’m nothing to you.’

‘I love you. I want you to be happy, but what about me?’

‘what the hell is wrong with you today? you sick or something?’

‘you look like hell and you’re acting weird.’

‘for you, nothing matters. you gotta have free will or some guts for shit to matter, and you don’t got neither.’

‘calm the fuck down, huh? I worked a long time on this. don’t ruin the fun.’

‘refusing gifts is rude.’

‘we all know you’re lying, and that’s against the rules.’

‘time to prove you’re really worth something after all.’

‘what are you doing ? what have you done?’

‘please. I never meant to hurt no one.’

‘you just did that to yourself.’

‘I never meant for any of this to happen.’

‘i’m gonna cut you free. but you gotta promise me you won’t run.’

‘we’re gonna get out of here together, but you gotta trust me. okay?’

‘did you kill ‘em?’

‘revenge is hard to resist. I got personal experience with that.’

‘can’t blame me for looking away from the thing that hurt me and looking toward the thing that would hurt you instead.’

‘go on. put her out of her misery’

‘you ruined her life. you think she’s ever gonna forgive you for that?’

‘you think a sorry sack like you could do something right for once?’

‘after she dies you won’t wanna live anyways.’

‘(name) would’ve love it if she wasn’t already dead.’

‘you and me, to the death. an eye for an eye.’

‘I trusted you. I thought you were special.’

‘I was going to run away with you. now I’m just running away.’

[rocksandmirrors]

this is something i wrote a couple weeks ago based on the second art of this post i've made, but i didn't feel like posting it on ao3. hope you enjoy!! the wonderful @sapphic--kiwi inspired me to write this, make sure to check out her blog as well <3 she's a very talented artist and writer

also watch out for body issues and internalized fatphobia

Matt couldn’t stand to see his reflection anymore.

He should have seen it coming, though; with all the work he had been doing for the last years, and being able to eat his fill every day, it was obvious he would gain weight. Yet, now that he stared at himself in the mirror, all he could see was the extra pounds that didn’t have to be there. He knew this was silly, but an immature part of him hoped he could have looked like these constructionist witches in the shows he watched, attractive and shaped like a V.

Grimacing, he pinched a bulge on his stomach and let out a groan. He hated looking like this, especially when he was so skinny just a couple years ago. Maybe he could skip breakfast, just for today. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Shaking his head to try and think about something else, Matt reached out to the cabinet above the sink until he saw Augustus’ reflection in the mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He froze as they locked eyes, and he prayed he hadn’t seen too much of him wallowing in his misery.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally opening the cabinet to grab his hairbrush. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Matt heard footsteps behind him, and a few seconds later, felt a pair of arms around his waist, as well Augustus’ warmth against his back, and his chin on his shoulder. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Eh, I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I could get prepared for work, at least.”

Augustus’ hands wandered around his stomach and hips- areas of his body that he hated more than anything- and he repressed the urge to push them away. Instead, he started brushing his hair, slowly, untying all the knots one by one. He had two hours left before leaving, might as well take his time.

“Matty, are you okay?” he asked, slumber still staining his voice.

“M’yeah. Sort of.” When he met Augustus’ eyes again through the mirror, he sighed. “No, not really.”

“I know. I saw you.”

Yeah, he figured as much. His fiance had that talent for always being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He put his hairbrush down next to the sink, still staring at their reflections.

“Of course you saw me. There’s nothing else to see about me but… this,” he added, disgust dripping in his tone.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Like what? Like I became fucking ugly? Someone here has to, because you sure as hell aren’t doing it.”

Matt was getting worked up over pretty much nothing and arguing with a brick wall; he knew that, yet couldn’t help it. Just thinking about the way his body had changed over the last years made him feel miserable and fall back into his old self-deprecating ways, aggressive towards someone who didn’t ask for it.

“You’re not ugly,” Augustus argued, leaving a peck on his jaw. “You’ve never been.”

“Augustus, you don’t need to rub me up the right way. I know I’ve changed, I mean- you’ve seen me at seventeen, look at me now! I was in much better shape back then!”

“Were you?”

“Do you really need me to make an illusion of my old self to compare?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Augustus shook his head, his hands still rubbing the parts of his body he hated the most. Matt just wanted this conversation to end, to go on about his day and shove that brief moment of vulnerability into a corner of his mind so he could forget about it. As much as he hated his current appearance, he never intended for his lover to listen to him vent about his body issues first thing in the morning.

“Matt, you had nothing to eat as a teen, of course you were skinnier. Hell, I’ve seen you digging through trash at school just to have lunch.”

“Yeah, but-”

“You’ve grown up. You’re doing a lot more physical work, and like it or not, you can’t keep your teen body all your life.” One of Augustus’ hands moved up to his torso. “If you really want to lose weight someday, I’ll support you, but I want you to know I also love how you look right now, because you’re just as healthy and handsome. Frankly, I’m happy to see you like this.”

Matt’s breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes widened at these words. He knew Augustus tended to be clingier than usual whenever he lacked some sleep, but he still needed to get used to all the praise that came with it.

“I don’t really see it,” he admitted with a shrug.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect you to get over this right away.” The younger witch left another kiss, this time at the nape of his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. “But trust me, if you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d marry yourself in a heartbeat.”

Matt could feel- and see- all the blood rushing to his face, and suddenly, the warm hands wandering on his body didn’t bother him as much- they felt loving, tender, worshiping every part of the body he still struggled to accept as it was. He leaned into Augustus, still standing behind him, and the arms around him wrapped themselves tighter.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked.

“I… Yeah, actually. Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” Augustus left one last peck on the shell of his ear before stepping back, and Matt immediately missed his warmth. “Since we’re both awake, I’m gonna make some coffee. Do you want some?”

“You know it.” Matt turned around to face him, offering him a tired smile. “Let me make you breakfast, yeah?”

“Don't worry, I’m not touching any pans in this kitchen,” he yawned as he left the bathroom.

Matt watched his fiance walk away, then turned back to his reflection. Half of his hair had been brushed, the bags under his eyes were a little more prominent than usual, contrasting with his crimson face, and his shirt was a little crinkled from where Augustus had been touching him. He pinched a bulge on his stomach again, poking at the fat here and there with a faint smile.

Maybe he could indulge in breakfast today.

[sleepy-aletheas]

Hi, @iridescentmirrorsgenshin ! I'm finally putting my thoughts down about your doc, and I didn't anticipate this to come out of it (that's a lie, this is exactly what I predicted). I kinda got stuck on the section of Alhaitham's egoism and ended up with 1.8k words I'm not even sure make sense. I'm not even gonna apologize, this is a lot of fun.

But I wanted to genuinely thank you for ever writing it, it's nice to have all of your thoughts and observations to fall back on to, so I can pick my brain about something that makes me giddy.

This is less about a deeper reading on Alhaitham and Kaveh, or reinterpretation of what you wrote, and more of me going feral and adding what I call "supplemental thoughts". Or maybe it's all of the above, I'm not sure, someone else can be the judge of that.

Anyways.

The conflict between Alhaitham and Kaveh can be surmised at a glance as either: If Egoism is the ideal of living life by one's design and desires not decided by The Collective, then Altruism has to be the ideal where one has no decision about their own life until the lives of The Collective are thriving. Or it can also be: if Altruism is the ideal of living life by helping others live better to not overstep each other’s boundaries, then the Egoist has to turn a blind eye to the need of others and their passive life is contributing to everyone’s misery.

At least that is how it's usually pitted against each other from the perceived (and in many cases valid) opposition of ways of thinking. The Individual vs The Collective is an interesting way to divide people's needs after all.

Altruism in Kaveh’s case comes with a lot of baggage for him personally.

Financially, he got ruined and that struggle was an uphill battle ever since; we could even see it as a Sisyphus moment, where he pushes through his debt for financial freedom (trying to reach his own egoism), only to willingly jump down the hill to help others, ruining all his progress, and usually hurting himself in the process (even if that hurt is more on the psyche than physically).

Emotionally, it also can be complicated - he doesn't fear showing feelings, if it's in the scope of being loud or excited or openly frustrated; he blasts it all with no reserve, no shame. But he doesn't get angry, or sad, or upset. The only times anyone sees that side of him is if he's drinking, or he's too tired, or you're Alhaitham. He sees his own emotions as a heavy burden, and he doesn't want to share that weight, because of the bias that it's him. He can be miserable, because he can bear it just fine. But if someone else should do that with themselves, then that's a problem, and he has the need to help, because he knows how miserable it feels to deal with it alone. A self-imposed punishment.

But what is often times overlooked, is that Altruism in the end is a choice. People choose to do good, even on the expense of their own luxury, because of their own perceived morality and want to help.

Everyone has different reasons for being altruistic - some hate harm and cruelty in general, so they actively try to battle it, so it's not around them anymore; some lived through bad situations and want to save or help heal someone else going through it; some can see it as a self-esteem boost, because they got the skills and means to do good, so they have to be good too. It's not a cut-and-dry, one-size-fits-all type of ideal.

And yet, even if it's meant to be a positive outlook on life, a lifelong project to make the world better, if not for oneself, then someone else, it can be used as a self-harming action that would be frowned upon if someone tries to stop it.

"This person is in need, and you want me to stop? Are you really so cruel and selfish?" is a common enough excuse to push anyone questioning a person's negative altruism from ever trying to stick their nose into their method again, because The Collective usually only sees the deed and the positive result of the person helped, and not the detriment the helper acquired through their stunt. It's a very effective self-punishment if anything, especially if the person harbors so much resentment and guilt for themselves that they want to repent for their subjective sins and be absolved of the negativity (and yet, if someone has those thoughts and feelings for long enough, there is a hope in them that they never get absolved and can be punished forever, because that brings a different side of relief).

And we can easily assume that Kaveh, even with all good genuine intentions, uses his ideal for his detriment on purpose; well, maybe not 100% consciously and deliberately, but he could seek the emotional drop that his altruism gives him on a subconscious level. The fall is just as exhilarating as a high, the adrenaline will be the same in the end. It’s the aftermath that differs, and by then it’s too late to back out.

Alhaitham having the awareness that Altruism is not inherently bad just makes this discussion more tense. We can see he thinks helping people is the right thing. He doesn't have anything against the ideal itself, but he is now aware of the negative way the ideal can be practiced then when he was a student, never seeing the darker possibility.

Now he lives with somebody he cares about, and they don't care about themselves, actively chasing hurt and then refuse help they preach about and give out to others themselves. It's exhausting; it's terrifying; it's heartbreaking. And he did try to talk about it before, he tried to make Kaveh see the true nature of his Altruism. And how did it end? With a torn project paper, a name taken off on said project, long silence stretching over years, and now a rocky coexistence that has so much to talk things over, but pride and hurt doesn't allow it. Of course he would be harsh and critique it on every single turn he gets.

Alhaitham's individualism is something that always makes me pause from a writing standpoint.

Meanwhile he does a good job at following the key principles of it - he has his own house, his cushy job with a set time, his reading and own way of thinking. All of that makes him self-sufficient. He chose these things. He made them essential parts of his comfort and needs, and he refuses to compromise on their existence and their specific boundaries.

He doesn't want to be the Grand Sage, the position of Scribe fits perfectly withing the scope of the energy he is willing to spend. He doesn't need a bigger house, or lots of popular aesthetics, because he doesn't need that to feel comfortable. He doesn't waste time yapping about nothing with people he doesn't care about, he rather uses that time reading or talking to people he likes and values.

All of that is…almost perfect. It’s hard to pick it apart like Kaveh’s Altruism, because it’s almost as if we’re past Alhaitham’s realization and change for the better. There are things to pick on about how he does things, I suppose, but that is less to do with his ideals and more with how he acts, it stops being a narrative problem and more of a thing to nitpick at a personal taste.

About the misunderstanding about egoism and narcissism: From my observation, Egoism is commonly associated with Narcissism, mostly through the misconception about self-importance, and the limits between acting in self-benefit and in harming others.

Meanwhile individualistic ideals prefer to focus on the person themselves (their needs, their fulfillment not depending on someone else, their agency, their freedom of choice), it gets lumped into Narcissism, solely because that person thinks about themselves first.

Except people love to ignore that Narcissism is putting oneself above the rest and disregarding the needs and wellbeing of others, Egoism is more about someone taking care of themselves to the point where they are in a shape they could use for better things (e.g. if someone struggles with mental health, bringing them into a straining situation because it benefits others is foolish, as the person can break down, can be harmed, and then the situation and the people involved have more problems on their hands than before; but if the person focuses on getting better first, then they could go into the same straining situation, but coming out fine, because they have the capacity to endure it).

But even if Egoism can be a good ideal to follow, its negative practice can be a very ironic situation. If the individual is trying to pursue Egoism because they "wanna stick it to the man" and do all of that to go against the grain for the sake of going the opposite way, they lose their individualism and choice to have a life according to their beliefs and not The Collective. They still let the society dictate their life, but if they don't know yet how to exist for themselves, they believe crossing the road to walk the opposite direction of everyone else somehow sets them apart from the rest, and gives them full autonomy. It's almost a desperate placebo to not feel helpless and dependent. It also makes the understanding of choice an absolute mess, because they don't know what choice is and how it can look.

So when Egoism and Altruism are pitted against each other, it's just the choice to help the self against the choice to help someone else. Make others feel better by making their own life better / make oneself feel better by making the life of another better. Two sides of the same coin, really.

It's a mirror image. Mirrors don't show absolute opposites, it's the same object, but it can be from a different angle, a different medium, a different feeling. The mirror can be the surface of a still lake, the reflection in a tinted window, even a shadow in a sense is a reflection of something.

Alhaitham seems to be way ahead of knowing that both him and Kaveh aren’t a hundred percent right in how their ideals work right now. Both could use some improvements, rearrangements, reconsiderations, moving boundaries around for a more fulfilling answer that actually works and is not dictated what their teen selves tried to set into stone.

We can see it in how Alhaitham navigates the situation with Kaveh - how he prods at him; dances around topics and fights; how he pushes and pulls and jabs and waits for reactions to note down for future use and consideration. And when he oversteps, he backs away, creates distance, ceases his teasing, because he knows better. That is his go at altruism, putting his own comfort to the side to help another (even if it’s through an egoist lens).

And honestly? Kaveh might also know both of their ideals aren’t fine tuned yet either. He lives through the consequences of his own actions he orchestrated. If anybody knows the flaws of his ideals, it’s him first and foremost. But there are more blocks and obstacles in his way of becoming better, of tuning it to an actually usable means of living. And he knows that to actively pursue his ideals, he needs to learn how to reach his own individualism so he can be strong enough to be altruistic (so really, his egoism is still through the lens of altruism).

Both of them struggle with their pride - a scholar’s fatal flaw - and their joined character arc pretty much heads to them learning through each other to set it aside and embrace the reflection of their own ideal to actually make it a reality in a way that is worth striving for.

[dangermousie]

Farscape rewatch: 2x11 Look at the Princess Part 1

This three-parter is one of my fave eps and I think classic Farscape: taking the usual scifi trope and remaking it into something unique. On the surface, the set-up is something that has been done before, not just in scifi but in adventure lit of Victorian era: our brave Earthling (or Big Game Hunter, or Aristocratic Englishman) ends up having to pretend/be the groom of local royalty. Because he is so awesomely superior and attractive, of course. See Prisoner of Zenda and 8 million other titles. But this is Farscape, so this is not the case at all. When John is being chased, it’s never anything good  (I keep thinking of the fact that when Farscape finally decided to do the good old ‘hero must have more than one woman’ thing, they had Crichton raped by Grayza. In general, Crichton’s uniqueness brings him nothing but misery.) Here, the ‘other culture’ is far superior to the Earth one in its advancement, it’s powerful and needs no favors from anyone. Moreover, there is no ‘love’ or ‘he is so attractive’ on the part of the ‘natives.’ The reason Crichton works is, precisely, because in this world he is the genetic screw-up so he works as a mate for Katralla whose DNA has been messed with.

Nor is John someone who falls for the exotic Princess, or heroically rushes to the rescue of the kingdom out of noblesse oblige. He fights being married tooth and nail and then ‘unheroically’ surrenders to it when faced with threat of being turned over to Scorpius, and then saves everything only out of desperation and at the end, he is confronted with loss: his inability to kill Scorpius, the fact that he will never see his future child.

You know, I’ve forgotten how sharp the dialogue in Farscape is and how easily is can alternate between heart-breaking and completely funny. I keep thinking of the scene with John and D’Argo where John talks to D’Argo about hope and how “I have hope or I have nothing” and it’s an utterly heartbreaking scene:

(D’Argo pointing out his alternative is brain dissection by Scorpius is so very on brand - there is never an easy out or a good choice and a bad choice, just a bunch of bad choices.)

But anyway, it’s heartbreaking...

But it segues right into the bit of cultural misunderstanding about what ‘best man’ means and it’s now funny.

(Side note - will always love that D’s objection to what he thinks is John is propositioning him is “I am in a relationship already” and not anything else.)

D is a really good friend to John in this. They’ve come a long way since s1. Only a good friend would tolerate being constantly interrupted in his activities with Chiana (I love that John is so freaked by his future he merely registers her there and continues talking). John needs a friend badly at LATP. He doesn’t know it, but his insanity breakdown has began for real (he tells Aeryn he hears Scorpy in his head and she shrugs it off as paranoia. It must be pretty awful for John to have the one person you fear and hate the most always present). It’s a shudder-inducing scene in retrospect as it would be bad enough if it were PTSD but as is (Aeryn’s asking if 80 years as a statue is better than Scorpius here shows how much she does not yet get just how damaged John got by all of this; she will by the end of s2 but the price will be horrific.)

He is trapped by the Empress (whom I am not a fan of. I understand the necessity, but people who have no problems using other people as pawns are not a fave. And the whole setup is seriously proof as to why monarchy is a bad form of government - they are one bad ruler away from disaster). And then there is Scorpy. I love that John’s reaction to Scorpy is purely visceral, unreasoning. He is terrified and the way he uncontrollably flashbacks to his torture is evident on his face, and he tries to jest and put bravado but it all falls hollow.

He cannot control himself. I don’t think anyone else, not even Crais or Grayza, comes close to eliciting such a reaction out of him. Crais did a number on him physically, Grayza raped his body, and both hunted him assiduously, but Scorpius raped his mind and that’s his most important faculty in the mad world he’s thrust into. (But I love that even with all of that, he still asks Katralla what she wants not just as a last ditch hope of escape but because he does not believe in forcing people.) And now, I want to discuss my favorite stuff: John and Aeryn. I find myself both very frustrated with Aeryn through these eps (until the end of ep 3) and understanding completely where she comes from. She might deny that her wanting this marriage off is jealousy but Chiana can see it. I think in a way Crichton can too, but he needs her to give him something, anything to indicate reciprocity, that she would one day want to have something with him. The worst is when she says she won’t come to the wedding. She pushes a lot and wants a lot but tries to give nothing in return and yes that is very unfair but she is terrified, being with John would be the first real relationship she would have and she cannot handle the exposure, not yet. She can deal with the sex but she cannot deal with feelings. Her ambivalence is totally encapsulated in the first scene: she scents her hair so John would notice and tells him so later but when he does, she freaks and pulls away. He leans in for a kiss and she kisses him back but then breaks off. No wonder John is going insane.  I always die a little of swoon when they discuss the hair oil and she says that she will tell Zhaan he found her oils pleasing and he responds, both frustrated and trying to convince her desperately: ‘It’s you I find pleasing. Oh boy. She desperately needs to make it all about sex (something she is used to and familiar with). Crichton only wants her for sex, he is a walking horndog on legs etc etc, because she wants to deny any of her own feelings and any of his.

After having seen the entirety of Farscape, I melt a little when she sees Crichton interact with the simulacrum of his child and she realizes that he would want a child, that children are important to him. But also - as I mentioned, this is one child Crichton will never meet and he just has to live with it, there are no clean victories (side note, I loved that John was the one who wanted the emotions and the marriage and the baby and Aeryn had to think long and hard; such delicious reversal.)

P.S. Rygel/Aeryn kiss will never cease being funny. But also extra hilarious in light of his becoming her baby’s surrogate later, heeee.

PPS Ain’t it the truth

[profoundbondfanfic]

Do you have any fics that a very gender? Very confronts toxic masculinity in a moving way? Bonus points for 🏳️‍⚧️

I have to say it was a bit of a challenge to decode this ask so we've decided to do something general and hopefully some of these are what you were asking for. Here are some recs with fics that feature trans!characters in a meaningful way or focus on gender roles.

Fem in a Black Leather Jacket by bleuzombie [Mature, 5k words] #trans!dean

Dean has done the work to be comfortable with who himself but some reassurance from his boyfriend Castiel goes a long way as they head to a concert. Dean never dreamed he would be so lucky to find someone who could love him for all of him, panties and all.

love in the time of quarantine by sharkfish [Explicit, 6k words] #trans!castiel

Dean says, “We should have sex.” Cas chokes and looks up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear that.” “We should have sex,” Dean repeats, carefully enunciating each word. Cas keeps staring at him blankly. “It’s fun and you’re hot. Perfect quarantivity.”

Made Manifest by schmerzerling [Mature, 6k words] #trans!dean

Wherein Castiel defied God for Dean before Dean even knew his name.

Mira Mira by vipjuly [Teen, 22k words] #gender fluidity

Castiel is forced to retire from being the world's most prolific and successful hired gun. He gets dropped off at Winchester B&B with a vague notion to 'find himself', but he's having a hard time understanding first of all: what that means, and secondly: how to even do that. The proprietor of Winchester B&B, Dean, a retired ex Fed, seems to have some ideas of his own.

Novaks, Rebooted by violue [Explicit, 57k words] #trans!claire

A single father, his trans daughter, a whole new life in The Golden State.

Sometimes You Have to Lose to Win by zeppazariel [Explicit, 55k words] #trans!dean

The thing is, Dean is okay with being bisexual. He’s come to terms with it, ya know? He’s got eyes, and he can see that men are hot sometimes; whatever, not a big deal. He’s perfectly fine with it. In theory. Not so much in practice. Dudes are a no-no, outside of looking. He’s not budging on this one, so it’s with confidence that he announces, “There ain’t a guy in the world who’s going to change my mind, Sam.” “You’re tempting the universe to make fun of you again,” Sam sing-songs. “The universe doesn’t have shit to do with this,” Dean argues. Sam hums. “Whatever you say, man.” But, as it turns out, the universe has a lot to do with this, and it never really misses a chance to mock him, drag him down, kick him while he’s curled into a fetal position, then take him out back and shoot him while laughing cruelly at his misery. Meeting Cas is precisely what that feels like.

BONUS: a/b/o fics that focus on gender roles

Aromatic Adjectives Need Not Apply by JessJesstheBest [Teen, 4k words]

Castiel was an Alpha, despite what everyone always guessed upon meeting him. He was tall, and he had the stern and imposing profile, but, to most people, those Alpha traits were where it ended. He had a lithe, runner’s frame, with trim waist and thick thighs. “Child-bearing hips” he’d been told. Though, obviously, no children would be born of him. This scuffling man, though. He was... round. Potentially child-bearing. And Castiel was sure his true mate wasn’t either of the other two men. Or Castiel is an Alpha that doesn't believe in true mates but sniffs one out anyway.

Butch by tiamatv [Explicit, 54k words]

When the flower shop owner sweeps his fingers through his hair, he nearly knocks the flowers tucked behind his left ear off; he spends a fussy moment readjusting them with both hands. “I don’t need to be rescued. Especially not by a stranger.” Sheesh. Touchy. But since Dean would have flashed fangs if anyone had thought he couldn’t take care of his own damned self, he can’t be throwing any stones. He shrugs—big and exaggerated, both hands up. "Not sayin’ you did. Look, not your fault that God put alpha brains at the base of their dicks." The lowered blue eyes snap back to his. Flower Boy inhales with his lips parted, all pretense at not sniffing Dean out gone, and his eyes go wider. Dean might not dress or act or look like any kind of sweet little omega, but he knows just what he smells like: really fucking inviting.

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel [Explicit, 65k words]

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha. Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to? By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever..... Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

[wellpresseddaisy]

Beginning to See the Light

@greens-your-color What happens when Darius takes Severus into Society the first time. (No biting, although I think Lucius wanted to chomp on someone for both of them.)

“…heard you’re allowin’ your boy to racket about with the Potter set.”

Severus heard the adenoidal tones that meant Gwendolyn Whitlow found another victim. He drew back slightly, letting the curtain of his alcove shield him. Old habits died hard, he supposed, but listened in anyway. One never knew what one might learn.

“Oh, yes. Family, you know.” Lucius answered coolly.

“Isn’t one of the girls not magically born?” She made that sound like a communicable disease.

“Miss Whitlow, I know you, tragically, have yet to enter the beautiful precepts of parenthood, but when one’s only son is determined to do the right thing by his…relative, then one simply must support him in that endeavor. The Granger girl is more palatable that I imagined.”

Severus could see, in his mind’s eye, Lucius’ expression given the chilly tone. He’d bet a month’s salary Lucius had his monocle out. Or perhaps he twitched a fan at her. The monocle, Severus decided, was more likely. Lucius’ liked people to feel as if they were being examined and found wanting.

“Don’t you worry at all about low company?”

“Quite frankly, Miss Whitlow, Draco’s manners and marks both have done nothing but improve since he took up with Potter, not that it is any of your business. I think, perhaps, it’s time to repair your own ignorance on the subject of the non-magical world.”

Miss Whitlow sputtered something at that. Severus swallowed hard. Low company. He’d been that, once. The little urchin graciously taken in hand by Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black. Eileen’s boy, so tragic she’d gone and married that muggle.

He didn’t belong here. He’d never belonged in this glittering world of balls and routs and card parties and boxes at the opera. His world was chalk dust and bubbling cauldrons and sticky children managing to have the most ridiculous accidents possible in class.

“Right, my lad, that’s quite enough of that.”

Severus startled as his husband suddenly loomed up at his side.

“I…Dare…I’m…” he floundered at seeing the stern set of Dare’s jaw.

“Hiding behind a curtain and thinking you could never belong here?” Dare raised an eyebrow.

How did the bloody man know that?

“Oh, Severus. Do you think I never had those moments myself?”

That put a different complexion on it.

“Come with me, pet. We’re going to plead a headache. You look peaky enough.” The wry twist of his mouth took the sting out of that one.

In short order, Severus found himself standing on the pavement waiting for their carriage. Dare wrapped an arm about his shoulders.

“Why don’t we try somewhere more to our taste?” Dare asked.

Severus looked up at him, the misery of ruining their first evening out together in Society dissipating with his surprise.

“Where?” he asked.

“Will you trust me?”

Severus felt his heart melt at that and tried to keep from smiling soppily. “Of course I trust you.”

“Then hold on. I sent the carriage back.”

Severus tucked himself close, closer than one really needed for side-along apparition, and closed his eyes. One squeezing moment later, he felt their feet hit pavement again.

“We’ll have to put your hair up, if you don’t mind, but the rest should be right.” Dare held up a clip and Severus turned around.

His husband’s hands were gentle as he carefully combed his fingers through Severus’ long hair. He plaited it quickly and clubbed the heavy length of it up at the nape of Severus’ neck with the clip. Severus looked at the brigtly lit façade before then and choked on air.

“A dance hall? Dare, if someone sees…”

“No one here will utter even one peep about us. They knew my father.”

How he said that and kept a perfectly innocent expression Severus would never know. He snorted.

“He used to dance here?” he finally choked out.

“Apparently,” Dare bit his lip. “That would have been in the forties. He used to bring his Slytherin cronies with him, slumming it.”

“The imagination boggles,” Severus murmured.

“Come along,” Dare grinned, anticipation lighting his eyes. “I’ve been watching you in set dances all evening. I cannot believe Mrs. Sedgwick thinks waltzing immoral, even now.”

Severus let Dare lead him in, suddenly happy he’d worn the flame-colored evening pajamas Narcissa and the tailor insisted he required for less formal events. The flowing trouser legs gave him some comfort—Dare seemed like the sort who danced energetically.

Who would ever have thought that Tobias Snape deciding that the best way to tire out energetic magical children was to teach them both swing and jive would come in handy? He could hear his mother even now, leaning out the kitchen window over the cramped back garden and laughing:

“Toby, why is Severus learning all the lifts?Surely that would be for Lily?”

“Nay, ‘leen. The lass’ll be taller than our Severus in weeks! Growing like a weed, that one.”

So Severus learned how to be lifted and all the aerials. Did Dare know any of them? He supposed he’d find out. They secured a table around the edge of the dance floor after checking their cloaks. Dare marked it as engaged and led Severus out to the floor.

Severus let him swing them into the flow of dancers, following his lead in a slow fox trot.

“Can you keep up?” Dare grinned down at him.

“With this?” Severus raised an eyebrow.

“This is just a warm up, my lad.” Dare stole a quick, smacking kiss.

It was. The more decorous fox trots and waltzes slowly trailed off into Stompin’ at the Savoy and One O’Clock Jump. Severus matched steps with Dare, following his lead easily. Several numbers he didn’t recognize passed as he and Dare familiarized themselves with each other.

He’d forgotten the joy of it, giving over to the music, the bass thumping in his blood up and down the scale as the band kicked the tempo faster and faster. He’d never felt like this dancing with Lily—so wholly in sync.

He realized that many of the other dancers had cleared off the floor, leaving more space for the jitterbugs. Dare laughed down at him, and swung him out, his hair falling over his forehead.

“Can you do the aerials?” he shouted over the pounding drums.

“All of them,” Severus bellowed back. “My father said it was my patriotic duty so I could show up the Yanks and scandalize the Malfoys!”

Dare snorted and steered them to an emptier section of the dance floor.

“Want a go?”

“Yes!”

He hadn’t trusted Lily’s muscle strength enough to try anything like a candlestick or an around the world with her. They’d confined themselves to some of the tamer pops and throws. He might regret it in the morning, but he couldn’t resist Dare’s infectious enthusiasm.

Frankie flips, around the worlds, k flips, tick tocks, and coffee grinders followed in quick succession. Severus knew they were drawing a crowd, but he didn’t care. He matched Dare step for step.

“See now, Davey, I told you that were Tommy’s boy. No one else danced like that.”

Severus caught Dare’s eye and laughed in delight as Dare supported him into a candlestick.

[zuffer-weird-girl]

I know you've already done a few sickfics but what about one where both Kai and his angel is sick. Maybe in the beginning, it was just Kai and his angel caring for him. But the sickness passed over to angel. Now they both are sick and have to have pops or someone else to take care of them

"Honestly? I'm still surprised that you got this flu." You later cringed at the nasty sound of splashing on the toiled and the hurls of the man who sounded like he was dying as you rubbed his back.

"Not helping.." he panted between words as he made a expression that was amic between pain, misery and pure disgust towards himself.

"I'm sorry. But you're always so cautious..." You handed him a handkerchief which he thankfully accept to wipe his mouth "Here, let me help you up."

"I don't need help." He growled while miserably trying to get up.

"Stop being stubborn love." You scoffed while gently picking his arm to put over your shoulders as you got both of you up with a huff. "You know that if I could I would've carried you even."

"You will get sick.." he growled between pants as you helped him sit down on the shared bed.

"Is fine. My immune system is strong ever since I was a kid. I catches even a disease that was eradicated once and lived you know?" You made joking tone of voice but that fact was true.

Chisaki could only glared at you as he wiped with the back of his head only to scoff at feeling the sweat on his forehead increasing.

"I need a shower." He tried to get up but you gently pushed him so he could lay down.

"You can't even stand up straight... " You argue as he groaned back at you in spite "I will get a cold towel-"

"No. This is like a freacking cat's tongue bath.." he muttered as you shaked your head at his stubbornness and went to get that towel anyway.

"Just to clean the sweat and to lower your temperature down love..." You whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows with closed eyes at the cold feeling of the towel brushing his skin.

"Don't do that." He suddenly whispered.

"Do what? Care for you?"

"You will get sick-" he growled before having a coughing fit as you sighed while kissing his forehead.

"I won't. Promise."

.

.

You sneezed for like the 20 time at the day as you groaned at the look your boyfriend gave to you as he just watched you like a fucking hawk.

"Good immune system you said?" He growled before coughing on his fist as you sighed.

"Hey, at least you got a bit better..." You sneered again and cringed at the green disgusting fluid present on the napkin before you threw it away on the trashcan near your bed.

"But not completely, so your plan failed dearest." He growled the pet name as you could only pout back.

"Sit back down Chisaki." You both turned at the elder voice carring a tray of meds and two cups as Kai growled at the sign.

"Aren't you too old to do these sorta of things?"

"If you dare to say that again I am beating your ass like I did that one time when you were younger." You laughed at the way Chisaki's face got white pale as he finally calmed down his tantrum.

"How are you feeling dear?" Pops voice got a lot sweeter when talking with you.

"A bit shifty if you asked me." You laughed while accepting the cup of tea.

"Language." Chisaki spoke from his place as Pops only arched an eyebrow at his successor.

"I think your temperature is finally coming down..." Pops whispered while playing his elderly hand carefully on your forehead "But just to he sure take the pills I brought. Alright?"

"Yes sir. And please make your son take his."

"Excuse you I do take them." Chisaki growled after getting out of the bathroom as Pops shook his head.

"Not the one which is liquid." You are with a evil smirk as your boyfriend mentally cursed you for literally selling him out to the elder.

"Stop bitching and drink it already." Pops growled while getting up and going after the 28 year old man.

"For crying out loud." Chisaki just walked out while coughing as the elder went after him.

"I bet he wasn't a good kid to deal when he got sick." You chuckled while taking a sip of the tea your father in law made for you.