#as an adult he pretends a lot of these things never happened or he must have misunderstood what happened

[windermeresimblr]

List 5 facts about a favorite sim of yours, and send this to simblrs whose sims you adore 💜

We're going with Alasdair, because he needs more attention all the time.

His birthday can coincide with Mardi Gras! His mother, never one for age-appropriate parties for children, or age-appropriate behavior around children in general, used to celebrate this in lavish style. His first loose tooth came out on the bean in a king cake. Does he appreciate the costume I've so lovingly dressed him in? Absolutely not!

His mother used to powder his hair excessively as a child so that it would look pink, similar to this gentleman's, rather than his very brilliant red. After all, for some strange reason, red hair was considered ugly! The rest of his siblings, when they were old enough to tolerate it, got a lighter touch of powder, with their natural hair tones ranging from strawberry blonde to mousy brown.

Alasdair learned quickly not to mention his "less-visible friends" at home, because when he told one of his governesses about the man in the ruff, she thought he meant an actual man and was reasonably alarmed at the prospect of a stranger roaming around! Once the house was torn apart and nobody could find anyone unaccounted for, especially not in fancy dress--Papa had some choice words for Mama's choices of entertainment there--he was punished for "telling lies" and "scaring the help" and "making a scene" and sent to bed without any supper. The governess was given a day off for her very frazzled nerves.

He enjoys climbing, and in a modern AU, would perhaps have been one of those people who tries to set records for climbing various cliffs and mountains. (As an adult in Spain, he looked forwards to perhaps going on a nice hike in the mountains if he had the chance, until something derailed that. Will have looked forward to? He's hard to give a proper tense to.)

As a very young child, probably between Catherine's and Gramps' Graham's age, he once came upon his mother's snuff-box unattended, and took a largish handful and ate it, believing it was a new variety of brown sugar. It was a horrendous surprise to him that tobacco did not taste like brown sugar, and the whole thing promptly came back up all over the very expensive carpet. His nurse was sacked for not watching him closely (one of the very few times the sacking was deserved), and he was laid up in bed with a stomachache for the next day. As an adult, he has an instinctive horror of snuff and chewing tobacco, preferring a pipe if he absolutely must engage in smoking. Surprisingly, he has no such qualms about brown sugar!

[celeryb1tch]

innocent!reader x experienced!pervert!abby is rotting my brain tonight!!!

18+!! this is lesbian smut!

you sit at a table in the mess hall, abby’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and her friends all enjoying their dinner. casual conversation is thrown around the table, until manny’s new fling is brought up.

“-and i mean, SOAKED the sheets. i couldn’t believe my eyes,” he recounts proudly.

everyone is laughing along or rolling their eyes, but abby notices your hesitance. she leans down toward you with a concerned look. “something wrong?”

you shake your head lightly, looking up at her. “jus’ don’t get it,” you reply.

abby feels her stomach twist. she had known there wasn’t great sex ed on the WLF base, but she and her friends had grown up around doctors like her dad and she realizes she hadn’t know the full extent of just how ignorant you were. and admittedly, it made her excited.

“she squirted when she came,” she tries to explain gently. but you still look utterly confused, even as she goes on.

“…come? and she didn’t pee?” you seem so utterly lost. abby wonders if it makes her a bad person to expose you to these ideas, but you’re both already adults. still, that knot is twisting inside her deriving a sick pleasure from all of this. you had always looked up to abby, and she wondered how wrong it would be to corrupt that relationship with talk of sex- or even a demonstration?

that night, you’re laying in bed thinking about what abby said earlier. with all the training and violence you’d grown up around, you hardly had time to pay attention to the ache between your legs, or how it would usually occur when abby was around. but as you recount that conversation in your mind, it appears once more. you think of her arm wrapping around you, pressing you into her hard front. how she was still warm and sweaty from the gym, and how her flyaways stuck to the sides of her forehead because of that. something inside of you is saying you should be embarrassed, and you don’t know exactly why- but a louder, much louder, part is telling you to confide in your best friend. she would never judge you, right?

you shuffle down a few hallways in your fluffy socks until you reach one of the bigger accommodations: abby’s room. and with a bit of hesitance in your knock, you step back as the door opens immediately.

abby is clearly groggy, and must have also been getting ready for bed. she’s wearing nothing but boxer shorts and the usual black sports bra she has on during patrols and workouts. her hair is tied in her signature braid, with more wispy pieces that have come out throughout the day. “hey, you. everything okay?”

you nod and push past abby inside as was usual. she joins you on her bed, your bare thighs touching as you both sit. her eyes are on you and you can feel it again- that heat. you pull away slightly, squeezing your legs together as it’s the only thing you know eases the feeling.

abby pretends not to notice, just like she does any other time you blatantly stare at her muscles or blush when she touches your waist. she doesn’t want to scare you off, especially when she thinks she can tell what you’re going to ask about.

“you remember earlier at dinner?” you say, biting your lip slightly as unease turns in your tummy. and abby just nods, still looking right at you. “how manny said he made a girl, uh…”

“squirt?” abby offers. she says it so nonchalantly, like it’s nothing. like she’s never in a million years thought about fucking you until you do. like she wasn’t hoping this would happen every second after dinner.

“yeah, well, i realized there’s probably a lot of sex stuff i don’t know, and since you… y’know…”

poor baby, she thinks. how will she ever work up the courage. and abby thinks of all the times she’s teased you about all the women she’s fucked. called you jealous that you had to split quality time with her one night stands. seen you pout about her missing games night because someone asked her on a date in front of you. surely you were going to ask for her expertise- for her to help you out, to show you?

“since your dad was a doctor.”

oh. that was it? you wanted a little anatomy lesson. then what was all the embarrassment for? were you that ashamed of asking for a little bit of guidance?

abby gives you a soft smile and an assurance that she can help. and your body floods with relief. this is normal. you can tell her what you’re feeling and she won’t act weird. she can help you.

you stand up and strip off your pyjama bottoms and big shirt you had likely stolen from abby so long ago you don’t remember whose it was in the first place. and she just watches, small smile still on her face as she looks you over.

“okay, so right here? boobs, obviously.” she points to your chest, and you roll your eyes.

“i know that, stupid. show me the more advanced stuff.”

“you’ll have to take your underwear off then.” so you do.

abby instinctively reaches for it, stroking her fingers between your puffy, wet lips. her eyes are shining with admiration and her cheeks are hot.

you pull away slightly at the bolt of pleasure that spikes through you at her touch. “is it… supposed to look like this? i think there’s something wrong.”

she shakes her head fervently, eyes never leaving your pussy. “you’re just wet, that’s all. did something turn you on?” and at your confusion at the term- “get you excited? when girls see something attractive, they get wet.”

oh no. you can feel dread flooding your senses as you try to scramble for an explanation. that it just happens sometimes. that’s normal, right?

after a pause, and a look at your face, abby knows exactly what happened. “oh. you got wet from me, huh?”

you want to run away and disappear. you swallow a sob, but strangely, you feel that pulsing sensation again. all of this attention from abby isn’t working in your favour.

but she isn’t grimacing in disgust, or even asking you to leave. in fact, abby has a shit-eating grin on her face as she watches you cower in front of her.

“you’re not… mad?” you ask sheepishly.

abby reaches out to you, pulling you onto her lap. “no, baby, of course not. it’s cute.”

relief washes over you, but before you can really relax you feel abby’s hand once again on your folds.

“so wet for me, baby. how long has this been happening?”

a finger skims against a particularly sensitive spot, and you choke on your words, succumbing to the blissful feeling. “s-so long, abs. like forever.”

“poor girl. so pent up, so needy. and too embarrassed to tell me.”

“yeah…” you whine. you’re clinging to abby like a lifeline, overwhelmed by the building tension. it’s unlike anything you’ve experienced before. so intense, so all-consuming.

abby’s fingers are expertly caressing your pussy, steadily adding more pressure so as not to overstimulate you. “this is the clit,” she murmurs, and you feel that electric spark again as she glides over one specific spot at the top.

“it’s too much,” you cry out, wriggling under her grasp.

“that means you’re cumming soon,” she explains with a chuckle. “feels so good, trust me. just ride it out.”

and you trust abby with every ounce of your being, so you try to relax your muscles as much as possible while you feel that climbing feeling come to a boil. and she was so right. you’re huffing tiny sobs into her chest as you come down, her strokes easing as you’re finally able to catch your breath again.

abby cradles you into her, clean hand running through your hair. you can feel the puddle between your thighs dripping down her own and onto the sheets, and you’re so exhausted.

“that was so hot, baby. did such a good job for me.”

“abs, that was… wow.”

she’s smiling down at you, admiring your sweat- wicked face. “bet you wish you’d asked me sooner, huh?”

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Geto Suguru x Reader Fanfic Part 2

You sell yourself to a brothel to feed your family and Geto Suguru is in charge of training you to be the perfect submissive sex doll. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Geto’s. I’m not sure how many parts it will have. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Dubcon. Submission. Extreme humiliation. Voyeurism. Light degradation. Masturbation. Oral sex. Deep throating. Fingering. Public nudity. Lots of implied stuff with the other trainers. This is the “meet all the trainers” part. Divider by @benkeibear!

Suguru awakens to find his new doll in his bed, curled up to him in her sleep, her soft naked body warm against his. He raises up and looks at her sleeping face, already feeling guilty for the things he’ll be doing to her today. 

It was her bad luck that he was the only available trainer when she arrived. Well, better him than Sukuna he supposed, but she truly is a bad match for him. She’s naturally very shy and sensitive, making his humiliation-based training particularly hard for her. 

He doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but preparing her for her life as a doll is the kindest thing he can do for her now that she’s already signed the contract. Without proper training and preparation, the next ten years will be hell for her. 

The early days of training are critical. It’s when boundaries and trust are established. One of the main elements of his style of training is building trust. She has to trust her master, to believe her master won’t hurt her, to look to her master for safety. Only then can she fully submit and give herself completely. 

To facilitate this, Suguru insists his doll remain naked during the training. Part of it is the humiliation angle, but more important is establishing for the doll that she can be totally vulnerable with him, and that he will protect her even when she has literally no other barrier against the rest of the world. And to drive that point home, he has to parade her around the house, letting the other trainers leer at her, but not allowing anyone to touch her. A couple of the trainers help him out with this, pretending to be more threatening than they actually are just so that he can appear more protective. 

She’s going to hate that. She’s probably going to cry. Fuck, why would a sweet young virgin like her come here in the first place? What was she thinking? She mentioned taking care of her family. He supposes that was a good enough reason if they were desperate, but it still bothers him. 

He climbs out of bed and stretches, then looks at her again. He’s already crossed a line he, as a trainer, shouldn’t have crossed. For his particular training, he never allows a doll to sleep in his bed with him. He’s supposed to be firm, unyielding, uncaring. In the past, if he’s shown even the smallest amount of compassion, it’s led to dolls becoming emotionally attached to him. That’s the cruelest thing that could happen to a doll, because they can’t stay with him. 

So when he senses that a doll might be developing feelings for him, he begins treating them more roughly, more coldly, and that usually nips the problem in the bud. 

But on the very first night, he let her sleep in his bed? Is he going mad? That’s a recipe for disaster and he knows it. So today, he won’t give an inch. He’ll be hard and cold as stone, to establish that all important boundary. 

***************

You wake up shivering. It takes you a moment to remember where you are, and your body subconsciously rolls over toward the other side of the bed, seeking warmth where it found some last night. But the bed is empty. As your mind clears, you realize the covers have been pulled away and you’re lying there in Suguru’s bed, naked, with nothing to cover you. 

Sitting up, you rub your eyes and look at the man standing at the foot of the bed, staring at you. Suguru looks perfect of course, every glossy hair in place, the loose clothing somehow looking sexy on him. You sigh as you try to smooth your hair out with your hands.

“Get up,” he says, and you immediately notice that his tone is a bit sharper than it was yesterday. “There’s a hairbrush in the bathroom you can use. Make yourself presentable so you don’t embarrass me in front of the other trainers.”

It takes every ounce of willpower you possess to resist giving him a look and pointing out that he’s not the one who’s going to be embarrassed. Instead you silently crawl out of his bed and head for the bathroom, very conscious of the fact that he’s watching your every move. 

When it’s time to leave his room, your heart starts hammering wildly again. You’re actually going to walk through this house completely naked. Everyone is going to see everything you have. You feel your face heating up and tears threatening to drip from your eyes. 

“Let’s get a few things straight,” Suguru says before he opens the door. “Do not try to cover yourself. Do not turn your back to anyone who approaches you. Do not try to hide behind me. The other trainers will likely see you. They might even stop to look at you more closely. But they aren’t allowed to touch you. If one of them tries, tell me immediately.”

You nod, feeling numb as a few stray tears leak down your face. 

“Answer properly.”

You look up at him. “Yes, Master Suguru.”

“Let’s go have breakfast then,” he says, and you feel a little sad that he’s seemingly stopped patting your head and smiling at you. 

Those thoughts evaporate as you take your first steps out of his room. The hallway is empty now, but you know you could run into someone at any moment. And there’s no doubt there will be people in the dining hall. 

You walk behind Suguru, looking at the floor, trying to pretend this isn’t happening. But as you start to pass by a particular door, it suddenly swings open and a tall, muscular man with black hair steps out. He has a scar on the corner of his mouth, and looks a little rough around the edges, but he’s undeniably handsome. He’s pulling a rather tight fitting shirt over his head as he says, “Hey, Geto, do you know what they’re serving for-“

He stops mid sentence when he notices you. He glances at Suguru, then his sharp green eyes focus on you. “This your new doll?” 

“Of course,” Suguru says. It’s pretty obvious. 

The man’s eyes slowly move up and down your body, making your skin flush all over. “Got a good one this time,” he says, and he actually licks his lips! 

You can do nothing but stand there, letting him look at you. You wish Suguru would move on already. 

Just then a feminine voice calls out from inside the room the man just opened. “Tojiiiii~ come back to bed!”

He turns his face toward the voice. “I’ll be right back. Gonna grab us some breakfast!”

A second later, a woman appears at the door. You notice two things immediately. One, she’s completely naked, like you, and two, she’s beautiful. She hooks one arm around the man she called Toji’s waist and says, “The only breakfast I want is your cock.”

Toji grins down at her. “You had my cock for breakfast yesterday. And for lunch. And dinner. And a midnight snack.”

She giggles, seeming completely unbothered by the fact that both you and Suguru are witnessing this exchange. You wish you had her confidence. 

Toji playfully slaps her bare ass. “You have to eat some real food or you might start losing weight,” he says with a laugh. “And then what am gonna hold onto while I’m pounding that pussy?”

She gives him a pouty look, but says, “Okay, but hurry back! I get lonely without you!”

Toji gives her a wave as he jogs down the hall, leaving the woman standing naked at the door. She looks at Suguru and says, “You two wanna come in?”

Your heart nearly stops. Are you going to be having orgies? With Suguru, this woman, and Toji?

But Suguru simply smiles at her and says, “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll have to pass.”

The woman shrugs and closes the door, leaving you alone in the hallway with your trainer. 

You hate to admit it, but the bizarre show you just saw makes you feel a little better. The woman in the room certainly didn’t mind being naked in front of other trainers. Maybe that was just normal around here. 

As the two of you move further down the hall, you’re startled by loud, desperate screaming coming from one of the closed rooms. You nearly jump out of your skin, reflexively grabbing Suguru’s arm. You release it quickly, thinking this might be against his rules, but he pulls you closer to himself and puts an arm around you. 

“It’s okay,” he tells you, “that’s just Sukuna’s room. Be thankful you didn’t get stuck with him.”

As you listen to the screams, you honestly can’t tell if they’re cries of agony or ecstasy. Maybe it’s both. “What’s he doing to her?” you ask, clinging to Suguru’s side. 

He looks genuinely disturbed as he says, “I don’t want to know.”

Once you move far enough away that you can’t hear the screams anymore, Suguru separates from you. It’s a cold, empty feeling and you hate it, but you know you can’t cling to him forever. 

You finally reach the dining hall, and your entire body goes rigid when you see that there are more people in here, more people that will see you naked. You quickly spot Toji standing at a long table full of food. He’s balancing two plates on his arm as he fills them with food. Aside from him, there are three couples. 

At a table close by, reading a newspaper, there’s a blonde man wearing strange glasses. He’s dressed in a very dapper style, with a button down shirt and a tie. Sitting in his lap is a pretty woman wearing a pale pink sundress that appears to be way too short for her. She has a pink bow in her hair, and she’s giggling like a school girl despite clearly being in her mid 20’s. You can’t hear what they’re talking about, but the man seems calm and collected while the woman seems slightly nervous as she fidgets in his lap, eating bites of food off the single plate sitting in front of them. 

Further into the room, you’re surprised to see a woman sitting on a table instead of in a chair. She’s wearing black leather boots that reach her thighs, and sitting in a chair in front of her, between her legs, is a pale young man with his hair pulled into two short ponytails, one on each side of his head. He’s holding a plate of food in one hand and feeding the woman with the other. 

“I didn’t know one of the trainers is a woman,” you say. 

Suguru laughs. “Oh, she’s not a trainer. The guy feeding her is. He trains dominant women.”

You can’t help staring at them, thinking to yourself that this woman got lucky. She gets to boss her trainer around? Sounds like a dream come true. 

Of these two couples, the men don’t so much as glance up at you, as if you don’t even exist. The women look at you briefly, seem uninterested, and return their focus to their trainers. 

But the third and final couple is a different story. Sitting in a chair at a table close by is a tall, impossibly beautiful man with white hair and sunglasses. Kneeling at his feet is a cute young woman who looks around your age. She’s technically clothed, but you’re not sure who should be more embarrassed, you or her. 

The “outfit” she’s wearing consists of what looks like bra and panties, each with black fur trim. The bra is so tiny that it barely covers her nipples, and the panties have a hole cut into the back so that a long furry black tail can hang out through them. It takes you a moment of staring to realize the tail is connected to something that’s literally stuck into her ass. You squirm at the thought. The woman can’t sit normally, it would be impossible, so she’s forced to kneel awkwardly on the floor in front of her trainer, who is pouring food into the palm of his hand and holding it down for her to eat, her pink tongue darting out to lick his hand. 

Suguru directs you to a chair and tells you to sit. You’re grateful to have the table in front of you, covering your lower half. 

“Wait right here, I’ll get us some food,” he says. 

You look at him with pleading eyes. “You’re going to leave me here?”

“I’m just going up to that table,” he says, pointing to the table full of food. “I’ll just be a moment.”

You hate the idea of being left alone, naked, in a room with strangers, but what choice do you have? You nod and then watch Suguru as he walks across the room. With every step he walks away, you feel more and more vulnerable. 

A few seconds after Suguru leaves, the white haired man stands up from his chair and walks toward you. That’s when you notice the bright pink leash attached to a matching collar around his doll’s neck, as she crawls on hands and knees beside him. You find yourself feeling even more sorry for her than you do for yourself. 

The white haired man stands right beside you and lowers his sunglasses, looking at you with eerie blue eyes. “Wow, you’re a cutie,” he says. “I bet you’d look great in a leash.”

You shrink away from him automatically. There’s something unsettling about him even though he’s every bit as beautiful as Suguru. He reaches one hand toward you, grinning as he says, “I bet you’re soft too…”

You draw back, closing your eyes and calling out, “Master Suguru!”

When you open your eyes, Suguru is standing between you and the other trainer, grabbing the arm of the white haired man. “Yo, Satoru,” Suguru says in a pleasant voice. “I see you’ve met my doll. You can look, but if you touch her, we’ll have a problem.”

There’s an edge to Suguru’s voice as he says that last part, a darkness in his eyes. The man he called Satoru backs away, slipping his arm from Suguru’s grip. 

“Oh, don’t be stingy, Suguru! I always offer to let you fuck my dolls!”

Suguru frowns at him. “And I always tell you that’s inappropriate for the training.”

Satoru laughs. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud! Kitty here said you have a pretty face. She said she’s fine with you doing whatever you want with her! Right, Kitty?” He jerks the leash, pulling his doll’s face up to look at Suguru. She looks like she’s definitely not fine with it, but she nods anyway. 

“No thanks,” Suguru says. “I don’t enjoy making dolls cry.”

Satoru looks at him curiously. “But they’re so cute when they cry!”

Suguru shakes his head. “You stick to your training style, I’ll stick to mine.”

After Satoru and his doll return to their table, Suguru sits down beside you and spreads out a couple of plates filled with delicious looking food. “Eat up,” he says. “You’ll need your strength.”

With zero hesitation, you begin eating, trying several different foods and loving all of them.  When you cram a large bite of waffles into your mouth, you can’t suppress a small squeal of delight. You’ve never eaten something so tasty before!

Then you remember where you are, who you’re sitting next to, and you look up at your trainer. He’s wearing a smile while he watches you eat, occasionally taking bites of his own food. There’s something warm about his expression that makes you blush. 

You glance around the dining hall. Toji has already left, carrying plates of food back to his room like a waiter, but someone else has appeared, moving along the length of the food table, filling a single plate. The man has a contradictory appearance. He has several black lines tattooed on his face and what’s visible of the rest of his body, and shocking pink hair. These wild traits are contrasted sharply with his surprisingly refined, elegant mannerisms. He’s wearing a silk robe, open at the chest to reveal more tattoos on his impressively muscular torso. But he carries himself like royalty. 

The man takes his plate, mostly full of various breakfast meats, and sits down at a table across the room. He looks up, seemingly notices you staring at him, and flashes you a grin full of teeth that are entirely too sharp. You flinch and look away from him, automatically clutching Suguru’s sleeve. 

“What’s the matter?” Suguru asks, then sees the tattooed man. “Oh, that’s Sukuna.”

You don’t dare look at the man again, so you stare at your plate. “The one who tortures his doll?”

“Well, I don’t know if his training includes actual torture, but I do know he does something very cruel to his dolls.”

You look at Suguru, waiting for him to go on. 

He avoids your gaze, picking at the food in front of him. “He lets his dolls get attached to him. In fact I think he encourages it. We never see the dolls he trains until they’re being sold to new owners. At that point they’re always making a scene, crying, begging to stay with him… it’s a mess. And Sukuna just stands there laughing, as if the whole thing is amusing.”

You chance another glance at Sukuna, then quickly look away. “Why would they want to stay with someone who hurts them?”

Suguru still doesn’t look at you as he answers. “You’d be surprised what people can be conditioned to enjoy. Look at Satoru’s doll. She’s almost as new as you are, so right now her training probably feels unbearable. But by the end, she’ll adore being treated like a pet.”

You’re quiet for a moment, then you ask him, “Will I enjoy being embarrassed and bossed around?”

He finally looks at you. “If I do my job correctly, yes.”

It hits you then, the truth of all this training. Suguru is training you to not just endure being treated this way, but to enjoy it. To love it. Because if you don’t, then you’re going to be absolutely miserable when you’re being treated this way by your eventual owner. You stare at him, suddenly feeling affection for him that goes beyond being physically attracted to his beauty. 

You blurt out a quiet, “Thank you,” and Suguru looks down at you with a surprised expression. 

As you finish eating, you look at the trainers again. Why is it that every single one of them is absurdly good looking? Maybe it’s a blessing. After all it’s easier to have sex with people you find attractive. But then again, maybe it’s a curse, because it’s way too easy to fall in love with men like these. And even you understand why that would be a terrible thing. 

When you get back to Suguru’s room, he wants to work on your training right away. He makes you masturbate in front of him again, which is somehow worse this time. Maybe it’s because you’re starting to like him, but doing insanely embarrassing things while he watches intently just makes you want to disappear. You try to stick to his rules, asking for his permission to cum and looking him in the eyes while you do it. 

After you’re finished, you expect to have to suck his cock again, but instead he motions toward his bed and says, “Climb on, but stay on your hands and knees.”

“Yes, Master Suguru,” you reply, getting onto the bed in the position he wants. 

You feel the bed shift as he gets on the mattress behind you, then you feel his hands on your thighs, pulling your knees widely apart. “Ah!” you cry out, realizing that your pussy is drenched and dripping from just cumming minutes ago, and it’s going to spill all over his fancy covers. 

You start to turn your head to look back at him, but his voice suddenly says, “Face forward. Don’t look back.”

Then, you feel his fingers on the flesh of your folds, opening you. A shudder ripples through you, being touched by him in this way for the first time. But it’s also, like usual, extremely embarrassing. He’s prying open and examining your messy, leaking cunt, and you can only whimper in response. When one of his fingers, or maybe his thumb, grazes over your clit, you gasp, holding the breath in your chest for a few seconds before remembering to breathe again. 

****************

Suguru stares at the spread open pussy in front of him, and wants to absolutely destroy it. 

His new doll is clearly in distress. She’s embarrassed, of course. He’d purposely made her pleasure herself first so that she’d be soaking wet, her own cum dripping down her thighs. But at the same time, she clearly wants him to touch her. As his fingers brush over her already sensitive and swollen clit, he can see her hole clenching around nothing. 

“Are you really a virgin?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a virgin dripping so much before.”

She stiffens, her whole body going rigid. “Yes,” she murmurs, her voice quiet. 

“Answer in complete sentences.”

She hesitates, her body trembling now. “Yes, I’m really… a virgin… Master Suguru.”

He’s stroking her clit with circular motions, and she’s making cute little breathy moans. “I noticed you don’t finger yourself when you masturbate,” he says. “You only rub your clit. Why?”

Her skin is flushed, as if her whole body is blushing. “I’m… scared to… ahh…do that…”

“Scared to put your finger inside?” he asks, and at the same moment, edges one finger into her clenching hole, just up to the second knuckle. Her entire body jolts, and she makes a terrified yelping sound as she pulls away, off his finger. 

He sighs. “You panic when I even start to put one finger in? How are you going to handle a cock?”

She’s quiet for a moment, save for her rapid breathing. “I don’t know,” she finally says, and from the sound of her voice, she’s holding back tears. 

He puts his hands gently on her hips and scoots her back to him. “Did it hurt?”

“No. It just scared me.”

Suguru begins lightly stroking her clit again. “Let’s try it again, okay? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

There’s a moment of hesitation, then he hears her shaky voice say, “Okay.”

He eases his finger into her again, not deep enough to hurt, just barely enough for her to feel something inside her and clench around it. Her breath hitches as he gently pushes it in and out, never going deeper than that second knuckle, not wanting to scare her again. “How does that feel?” he asks her. 

She’s making those little moans again. “It feels… good… so good, Master Suguru.”

He uses the fingers on his other hand to rub her clit, and her legs quiver, barely holding her up. “M-may I please… cum… Master?”

“Hmm, I need to think about it,” he says teasingly, slowing down his strokes. 

“Please, Master Suguru,” she says, her hands gripping the covers. “It feels too good! I can’t hold back!”

He removes his finger completely and stops stroking her clit, giving her a moment to regain control. But the sudden loss of pleasure makes her whine. She pants for a moment, her pussy clenching air, arousal sliding down her thighs. 

Fuck, he wants to shove his dick all the way in on the first thrust. 

“Master Suguru?” she asks, her voice small and hesitant. 

He resumes his earlier motions as he says, “Yes?”

“Are you… going to have sex with me now?”

He blinks. He wasn’t expecting that question. “Do you want me to?”

She doesn’t respond, so he presses his finger just slightly further in. “Answer.”

“Y-yes! I… ahh… want you to… Master Suguru,” she gasps out the words, then says,  “May I please cum now?”

“Why do you want me to?” he asks, ignoring her pleas, still stroking her. 

Again, she doesn’t reply, only moans her sweet cries. 

He leans over her, putting his mouth close to her ear, and says, “Answer and I’ll let you cum.”

She shudders, her whole body trembling. “Because… you won’t hurt me.”

He draws back, staring at her soft, delicate form. “You can cum now,” he tells her, and she does. He watches her body spasm, her pussy clamp down on his finger as she moans loudly. And then she collapses on his bed, her face buried in his pillows. 

“I won’t fuck you tonight,” he says. “I don’t think you’re ready for that right now.”

She turns her face to look up at him, her eyes glossy and shimmering with unspilled tears, her face red from exertion and embarrassment. God, he wants to fuck her virgin pussy into oblivion. 

But he can’t. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. 

He hasn’t told the owner about his new doll being a virgin. If he does, he knows what will happen. He’ll be told to leave her “unspoiled” so that whoever her owner is will get the privilege of deflowering her. A fully trained virgin doll? It’s such a rarity that it’s almost unheard of. If a virgin ends up as a doll, it’s almost always on the direct market, not from a training establishment like this one. Because who could imagine a doll going through the training process without losing her virginity? And women who ended up at the Doll House were generally a bit older than the “barely legal” dolls who were often sold directly by their greedy families. 

Suguru is torn about what to do. On one hand, her value will double if the owner finds out she’s a virgin, and Suguru’s commission will be greatly increased. On the other hand, sending her out as a virgin doll would be cruel. She’d be totally unprepared for one of the biggest aspects of being a doll, not to mention the fact that he doesn’t know who her owner will be, what sort of person will be taking her first time. It could be a sadistic monster who would enjoy being as rough as possible on her. 

And then there’s the other reason he’s hesitant to pop her cherry. Being her first lover is a sure fire way to make her develop an emotional attachment to him, and he can’t allow that. And if he’s being totally honest with himself? He’s afraid he’ll develop an attachment to her. 

So for now, he’s holding back until he can decide what to do, even though he’s been imagining her tight little pussy stuffed full of his cock all day. He’s hard as a rock right now after watching her cum twice, so he pulls his erection out of his pants and looks at her. 

“You’ve been neglecting Master Cock all day,” he says, smiling at her and lightly stroking himself. 

A smile dances at the edge of her lips, but doesn’t fully spread across her face. She slides out of bed and to her knees in front of him. “I’m so sorry, Master Cock,” she says, looking at his shaft as she takes over stroking duties.

Her hands are soft and warm, still a little unsure in their movements, but she’s learning fast. She runs her tongue up and down the length before taking the entire thing in her mouth, part of him literally going down her tight, wet throat. She pulls back to breathe and to use her tongue to lap at his leaking tip. 

He doesn’t have to give her directions this time. She’s using her whole mouth, tongue and lips and throat, to pleasure him. She’s taking him in so deep that she’s occasionally gagging, as if she can’t get enough of his cock, as if she worships it. 

His eyes are glued to her. She looks so fucking pretty on her knees between his legs, choking on his cock. But he thinks she might be even prettier with that cute face covered in his cum. 

She can tell he’s close, from the way his dick is twitching in her mouth or from the quiet moans he’s trying to suppress, he’s not sure. But she pulls back and looks up at him with the sweetest expression as she says, “May I please have your cum, Master Suguru?”

He’d much rather be shooting it into her womb, but painting her face with it is the next best thing. She opens her mouth and extends her tongue, and he lets his cum shoot out across her nose, in her mouth, over one eye, splattering her cheeks and chin. 

It seems that she didn’t expect that. She probably thought he’d cum on her tongue again, but she’s handling it well. No panicking or trying to immediately wipe it off. Instead she looks up at him. “Is it okay if I clean my face, Master Suguru?”

He tilts his head to the side, letting the small front strand of hair fall over one eye. “Oh? After I went to the trouble of making you so pretty? I thought you’d at least keep it on until after lunch.”

There’s finally a spark of alarm in her eyes, but before she can say anything, he laughs. “I’m just joking. You can go wash your face in the bathroom.”

“Thank you, Master Suguru!” 

He watches her get to her feet and step lightly into the bathroom, then sighs to himself. He’d planned to be a little harder on her today, but he just can’t bring himself to be too cold or cruel to her. She has a glow to her that he can’t diminish. At least for now. 

But this situation can’t last forever. He’ll have to make some important decisions, and make them soon. For her sake as well as his. 

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv

[bimbolita]

I’m so glad everyone is having the same visceral reaction to episode 4 like I did. I thought I was being too sensitive but fucking no. It is painful. It is horrid. Knowing that this type of abuse actively happens to sex workers and those who are trafficked. It’s jarring because I didn’t expect to see this dark and explicit depiction in a cartoon that jokes about penises every 2 minutes. It’s like when light hearted coco melon shows start talking about death, it was just unexpected because I never took this show serious. I’m going to share more of my thoughts below! Trigger Warning: Mentions of SA ⚠️

I don’t think it’s my place to deny or confirm if the ‘poison’ scenes were fetishized, I personally believe it’s subjective. I know how I feel but I think no matter where you stand, you are right in your own way. Many things can be true at once. What we can all agree on, is that it was harsh. In a way, I hope the audience is able to understand how exploiting and non glamorous sex work is. There is nothing fun about having your body used multiple times a day by people you do not know and having said scenes recorded then plastered all over the media. Of course all forms of engaging in or creating adult content are different, I am specifically talking about sex workers who have no say or control over their bodies and finances. Like Angel. Let us put emphasis on WORK in sex work.

It is demanding. It is laborious It is scaring. Remember that and remember the unheard voices who must do this to simply survive.

There is a lot of criticism about angel’s personality and yes I agree it is annoying but you have to understand, it is a trauma response. Hypersexuality is a common trait among those who are sexually abused. Angel just outwardly expresses it all the time because it is all he knows. This thought process is the only way to tolerate his behavior. I say thought process because it is only an interpretation. It’s very obvious viv just adores writing sexed up characters with zero nuance or depth but let’s just pretend she can actually write male characters that think beyond their cock and balls. Let’s pretend that Angel Dust is a two dimensional character and not (grits teeth) fetish bait.

Now, let’s talk about Charlie. Alright great, she saw her friend being mistreated and was about to stand up to his abuser, ok good good. The victim (Angel) gets upset and wants her to leave because he was beaten. Yes, average response of someone who is an abusive relationship, he is afraid and wants to avoid more conflict between him and Val. The situation at hand couldn’t be more than obvious. How does Charlie respond? She cries. And not because she is frustratedly concerned for the safety of her friend. It is because he yelled and rejected all her poor attempts at helping. Charlie is weak as shit and I think that interaction was weirdly written. I wish she had the mental fortitude to understand how much danger Angel’s life was in at that moment. I cannot enjoy her ‘aggressive kindness’ cutie do no wrong baby girl type of character in a moment like that.

And I feel the same about Husk’s song. Out of all the responses you could’ve made, this is what made it to the final cut? Do better. I don’t care if I lack the mEdIa LiTeRaCy twitter keeps yapping about. It’s bad. You just showed a sexual assault montage and the rebuttal was basically “my uncle broke his neck tap dancing once :/“ lol we’re both losers and that’s ok, suck it up buttercup, I like you regardless. This was the best response to an SA victim? No degree in media literacy would ever help me think that was an acceptable response. I dunno about ya’ll but I major in common sense at the university of using my eyes and fucking ears. Now imagine, if that entire segment, when Husk and Angel are at the bar plus the musical number; imagine if all of that was placed BEFORE we see Angel and Val interact and then poison plays as the final song. It would be 10x more impactful because then the audience sees how deep and stuck Angel actually is. Trauma olympics is never acceptable but neither is trauma participation trophies. It is not right to make Husk’s issues be seen as the same as Angel’s issues. They are not the same and it is ok to acknowledge that Angel has it worst than Husk. It’d be more genuine if Husk were to just hug him in complete silence after dragging him out of the bar and have Angel tearfully embrace him back. The first non sexual and benevolent interaction between them. The first physical act of care with no ulterior motives of lust.

I grind my teeth at the wasted potential.

[ken-dom]

Currently thinking about Jacob Palmer x fem reader going through a dry spell becoming more and more desperate for anything that he is willing to do anything to go home with you he’d get down on his knees and beg if you asked

Sorry for taking a billion years anon! Hope you’re still thinking about it 😩 personally, I can’t resist this. This lends itself so perfectly to pathetic Jacob, and I’m a sucker for making them pathetic 😈

What Jacob considers a dry spell wouldn’t be a very long period of time at all. Imagine him going home alone a few nights in a row, having failed at picking someone up. Then it turns into a couple of weeks and he's sad and horny...

NSFW, gn!reader

It’s happened before, it does from time to time, especially at the quieter times of year when the bars aren’t filled with potential matches for him.

But it’s not quiet right now. The bars are bustling, and he’s had plenty of chances. He just hasn’t actually managed to impress a single person he’s tried to chat up for almost a week.

And when going home alone bleeds into the second week, he wonders if he’s lost his charm, or his skill or — whatever that perfect combination of elements is that he’s spent years perfecting and has down to a fine art. Or, he thought he did.

He gives the bars a miss for a couple of nights. Maybe he’s just burnt out? But even his sex toys are boring him now, and the ache between his thighs is becoming unbearable. But he doesn't bother even trying tonight.

Laid in bed, lazily stroking his throbbing cock for the third night in a row, he feels a tear trickle down his cheek.

Enough is enough. Is this what he’s been reduced to? A sad, sobbing mess, jerking off alone on a Friday night?

He can't have that.

And so an hour later, he’s marching into the bar, the one he always starts at, and strides right up to you.

‘Hey,’ he nods, eyeing you. ‘You were here last week. You turned me down, remember?’

This time, he’s taking a more direct approach. He doesn’t have time to waste if he's going to change his luck.

‘Excuse me?’

‘I want you to come home with me,’ he says, plain, and then a little more seductive, 'I... I haven't stopped thinking about you.' It's a lie and you both know it.

‘No, thanks.’

‘A-alright. May I ask why?’ He might as well try and figure it out at the source since he’s dragged himself all the way here.

‘I don’t do one night stands. Not my thing. You seem very…’ your eyes drag up and down his body and he notices the way your lip curls at one side, ‘nice, but, no, thank you.’

They rarely do until they meet me, he thinks, but instead he says, ‘What if we don’t call it that?’

He turns to the bartender and gestures something, and you guess he must come here a lot because the man not only recognises him but immediately begins work on mixing two drinks.

Unfortunately, he’s so hot your general rule of no one night stands suddenly seems a stupid guideline to have placed on yourself. You begin to wonder, what if?

‘What are we supposed to call it then?’ you ask, with a sigh of resignation and a curiosity that slips though just enough to set excitement bubbling in his gut. ‘You won't call me after. I'll never see you again. Or, if I do, you'll pretend you don't know me. What can we call that?’

‘An adventure? Having fun? Whatever you want,’ he says eagerly, leaning in to follow up with a whisper. ‘One thing I can guarantee.’

‘And what would that be?’

‘Orgasms like you’ve never experienced.’ His voice has dropped low, breath hot against your ear, and your core clenches.

You didn't realise one night stands cared about a single orgasm let alone the plural. Fuck. You want him.

‘But I don’t even know your-’

‘Jacob.’ Wow that was too fast.

‘Okay, Jacob. Let’s say I come home with you. Hypothetically. What then?’

He’s never had to play desperate before, but your response to it is making his blood run hot. For the first time in his adult life he’s not sure what to say, dazed by his bodies reaction to you. Is he playing desperate or just plain pathetic? His cock twitches and he grips the edge of the bar, not going unnoticed by you.

The cocktails he ordered are placed on the bar in front of you and you turn to take yours, delighted at the taste. He has good taste. You could tell that a mile off, but feeling it against your tongue hits different.

‘Oh, this is good!’ you exclaim, wondering why he hasn’t picked up his drink. When you turn back, ready to accept his invitation after all, he’s not there.

Well, he is there. Just not where you left him.

He’s knelt at your feet, gazing up at you, and suddenly you understand the true meaning of the phrase puppy dog eyes. And it makes your heart race. You suddenly feel the need to slam him against a wall, strip him bare and watch him tremble.

‘I’ll do whatever you want me too,’ he promises. ‘Give you whatever you need. Thats what’ll happen if you come home with me.’

‘Anything?’ you ask, knees turning weak at how utterly needy he looks down there.

‘Anything.’

‘Let me get my coat.’

[pluckyredhead]

Okay but I am fascinated by Orion and Scott's relationship.

Because for Orion, there must be so much guilt, right? He got to grow up in Heaven because Scott grew up in Hell. Highfather Omelased Scott so that Orion could have a childhood frolicking in rolling green pastures with Lightray and sleeping in a bed made of unicorn farts.

But at the same time I feel like there's also some resentment. Because Scott had the unhappy childhood...so why is Orion the unhappy adult? Why is Scott the well-adjusted one?

(Is Scott actually well-adjusted? He's very good at pretending he is. And I don't think it's entirely a mask. I think Scott is genuinely a pretty lighthearted, upbeat person, and that's part of what saved him from being broken on Apokolips before he could escape. But it's also a defense mechanism. He's a performer by nature and by trade.

I also think he's a deeply avoidant person. Unpleasant feelings? Uncomfortable conversations? Oh no, Scott is going to escape right the fuck out of that! So even though he absolutely is deeply traumatized by his upbringing - King's Mister Miracle was not the first time Scott has canonically had suicidal impulses - he is simply Not Going To Deal With It.

And this is a mask Orion is completely unequipped to see through. No one on New Genesis is familiar with the concept of "not saying exactly what you mean and how you feel literally all the time." I think Orion might be misread as stoic sometimes but he is super not! He literally just says how he feels all the time always! He's never lied even one single time in his life except for how on Earth he goes by O'Ryan instead of Orion! He has no ability to unpack "This person is pretending to be totally okay but actually they're only somewhat okay." Orion has never been somewhat anything.)

So yes anyway I feel like Orion is a little jealous and resentful that...somehow Scott still landed in a better place than him, for certain definitions of "better"? He's happy, he's well-adjusted, he has friends, he has a loving and functional marriage. Meanwhile Orion is having regular rage blackouts on a flying scooter.

But then he feels guilty again because how can he resent Scott after what he took from him? (Not that Orion had any choice in or even real knowledge of the Pact, but if you think Orion is going to let himself off the hook because he was a traumatized bald child when it happened, you don't know Orion.)

The other interesting thing is that even though Scott seems like the affectionate people person, it's Orion who makes all the overtures. Orion is the one who consistently refers to Scott as his brother (Scott's a little all over the map on this one). Orion wishes out loud that they were closer. Lonely, lonely Orion, who has absolutely no one in the universe who understands the tortured duality of his nature ("I am two worlds - like New Genesis, and that demon's pit - Apokolips! - One drifting forever in the shadow of the other - "), longs to hang with the one guy who might get it.

Whereas Scott...well, Scott's harder to read because he doesn't make a speech every time he has an emotion. He doesn't ever display any hostility towards Orion (King's MM run aside, which...yes, please, let's put it aside forever), but he also rarely demonstrates the same interest in building a relationship. His most loving gesture was pretending to be injured one time so that Orion would have to go fight Darkseid in order to lay flowers on a mass grave in Scott's place (it did actually make Orion feel better, so there's that).

I don't think Scott blames Orion, intellectually. I think he blames Highfather, as he should. (Not getting into whether Highfather ultimately made the right choice, just saying that Orion didn't get a choice at all.) And I think Scott is VERY VERY UNCOMFORTABLE with blaming Highfather, because it means he really has to think about what happened to him. In general, I think being around both Highfather and (to a lesser extent) Orion raises a lot of extremely uncomfortable thoughts and feelings and very painful memories, and so he just...escapes. He avoids being around them completely. It's very telling that Scott lives on Earth by choice and almost every time we see him on New Genesis, he's longing to leave. Being on New Genesis makes it impossible to avoid the Bad Thoughts.

So yeah, as much as I want to see these two having adventures together and hugging it out on the daily, I don't know that they can ever have the closeness Orion wants. (And god, can you imagine how much he would beat himself up if he knew that his desire for closeness was hurting Scott? It would be delicious.) But one of the reasons I love Simonson's Orion is that they find roundabout ways to show caring with the limited vocabulary they have, and maybe that's the best we can hope for.

[ultravioletqueen]

I love hazbin hotel but....nerdy prudes must did MANY things BETTER

I currently have a love-hate relationship with Hazbin Hotel, because whether I like it or not it was part of my adolescence since I saw the pilot, but I must admit that it has flaws that irritate me a lot and I know that it irritates others too:

my main problems are:

1) the humor is too immature to be a program "for adults" (there are fans who are not even older, I'm not saying that, the conventions say it💀),its the humor of a teenager that recently learned what swear words are.

They pretend this show is more complex and deep than it really is,they want us yo believe that this is how an adult show works when,NO???? THERE'S PLENTY OF ADULT SHOWS THAT WORKS WITHOUT CONSTANT SWEARING AND SEX JOKES! like My Aventures with Superman, Moral Orel, Bob's Burgers and others!

The audience of Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss are mostly teenagers, not even adults.

2) the villains have no depth nor are they intimidating, I'm talking especially about VALENTINO and ADAM (as much as I love Adam, I don't feel intimidated by his presence) and they don't feel like a real problem for the protagonists.

ADAM is the biggest villain of the first season but i never see him as a threat,the characters don't feel in danger,he is not a bigger evil they should care about. Adam had a lot of potential to be the big villain they tell us he is,he in fact had the potential to be the best character of the series but they just make him a douchebag just for the sake of being one,he has no motivations besides being a sadist that enjoys killing his descendants and fucking around.

VALENTINO is just a petty manchild that is intimidating in just one scene and after that there is no other moment where that threatening persona shows up again,he is not a real threat even if he is important to Angel Dust arc,they could put travis in his place and is just the same shit, nothing changes.

3) the characters have no variety, the lack of diversity and other colors that are not red is so annoying to me as a person who likes to find variety on colors and shapes, but all, i mean ALL characters have red in their clothing and it makes that they mix with the background in a way that gives me the ICK.

In the part of body shapes is the same problem, the only characters that are not skinny twinks/voluptuous chicks are antagonists or villains, they just make the fat characters annoying just to make the audience like the skinny ones more.

The women and men bodies are practically the SAME FUCKING THING:

Vivziepop only knows hourglass and twink bodies.

And as a fashion lover i must say that the lack of variety in clothes,especially for men is KILLING ME, every man in this show uses suits, shoulder pads and bowties, even if some characters looks good it make my blood BOIL no seeing other look more than this.

4) They rush the story to the point that they waste possible arcs for the characters (SIR PENTIOUS'S and ANGEL DUST path to redemption),they make the war to heaven the priority instead of the real premise of redeming sinners,they ignore it and not even make real attemps to let the audience know there is a real progress and the ways they use to "rehabilitate" are so childish that makes me cringe,if CHARLIE really wants to help them she should make REAL REHABILITATION PROGRAMS instead of kids excersises.

ANGEL DUST was a prick from day one,not only in the pilot but also in the series,he is a pos that DESERVES ALL THE BAD THINGS THAT HAPPEN TO HIM, and he was not only an addict to drugs and sex, he was a MOBSTER, HE KILLED PEOPLE FOR A LIVING AND HE SHOWED NO REMORSE, his sudden caring for the other cast feels so out of character and rushed that makes me ANGRY.

The redemption of Sir Pentious was so rushed that makes me feel NOTHING AT ALL because we dont see him get better, we dont see him chance and we dont even know how sacrificing himself redeem him, i dont know, maybe he was very selfish in life??? Its not that hard viv.

Now, what does this have to do with Nerdy Prudes Must Die? It's very simple, Nerdy Prudes Must Die takes several of Hazbin Hotel's flaws and makes it BETTER.

1) the humor is universally funny, it is not sold as something for adults because it has swear words or sexual jokes, it is not shown as something more mature or profound than it is, they know that it is not the eighth wonder of the world and they make the most of it doing comedy, improvisation and very funny situations.

Their songs, for example, are very fun and bring weight to the plot. Each song shows a perspective and the thoughts of the characters that cannot be expressed in words. Each musical number enters the minds of the protagonists, from the beginning to the end.

2)MAX, the villain of the story, is the nightmare of every teenager who has gone to high school, a bully who gets his way and makes everyone's lives impossible, and that makes him SCARY AS HELL.

When MAX enters the scene you can see the fear that everyone has of him, he feels intimidating and inspires fear and respect among others, everyone knows that if he is around there are SERIOUS problems and he acts like a true threat.

and MAX is deeper than he seems, unlike ADAM or VALENTINO you can notice that he has certain qualities that make him charismatic such as being naturally funny, appreciating when people do good things for him, having a genuine interest in GRACE CHASTITY and that his family life not being the best means that you can have even some affection for the character without leaving aside his actions against others.

All the characters represent the average 17 year old teenager and that makes them friendly, they show the reality that adolescence regardless of who you are has its problems especially in an environment like high school.

The protagonists are sympathetic, it's easy to get attached to them, I still haven't get over RICHIE'S death and his "im not a loser" because we saw that in fact he wasn't just a loser, he was a someone who, although he had his problems, was a good boy and he didn't deserve the ending he had(and his dead showed how sadistic Max could be).

Unlike Sir Pentious and Angel Dust we were able to see more of Richie, we were able to see that he was the one who felt the worst about what they did to Max, while the others are worried about going to prison he talks about how he feels about it (" i think im gonna throw up"/"oh my ashtma is back"), we can see that he wanted to be accepted as someone important on the team and when he finally feels valued Max kills him when he feels his kingdom crumble, in my opinion his "im not "a loser" is a way of giving himself confidence or courage to confront his bully from years ago but obviously it didn't work and he ended up dying in a horrible way, what makes it sadder is that he probably tried to run away from max and ended up in the bathroom because every victim of bullying knows that it can be a safe place (locking yourself in a cubicle until the bully leaves) but Max being a ghost didn't work:(

the characters are empathetic almost without wanting to, even MAX can be empathetic if you analyze enough.

3)there are more diversity here than any other series of vivziepop, i know is different because is a live musical with real people but they make sure that EVERY CHARACTER IS MEMORABLE, every character has his own quirks and clothing that makes them stand out.

We see variety of colors, races, faces and more! They make them iconic and easy to remember in all scenes, no character is left behind and they all are unique in clothes, personality and depth.

4)The story doesn't feel rushed, they take enough time to tell the story without making it too long or shortening it either, each arc is resolved in a way that goes well with the plot and doesn't feel forced.

My god, STEPH AND PETER have more chemistry than CHARLIE AND VAGGIE and they achieved it almost effortlessly. Their arc is not the best in the world, but I love their dynamics and chemistry more than CHARLIE and VAGGIE (and I like Chaggie in concept) and the story advances without the need to focus only on one character, everyone has their moment to shine and that fascinates me about this musical, each one is in the spotlight at the right and necessary moment.

In conclusion: Vivienne should learn from starkid, who were able to make a story that, although it begins superficially with a teenage drama, over time becomes deeper and talks about hard topics such as bullying, murder, death and the occult. way that we can feel connected with the characters and with the story in general, they give us a story with soul, something that unfortunately makes the hotel fail completely, it also helps me accept that I can like a series and still recognize its mistakes and see That others can get it right where Hazbin Hotel went wrong.

[gretavanlace]

Poppins (part 8)

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: adult themes, illusions to sex, angst, alcohol consumption, etc

*We’re getting down to it, only two (possibly three) more chapters to go ❤️

It feels like the air has been punched clean out of your lungs, but just as quickly, logic takes over and shakes you straight.

Obviously, you’ve misunderstood…and you tell him as much.

“I guess I’m not following you, Josh.” You attempt a casual laugh and nudge his shoulder with your own, scrambling for normalcy. “But, I suppose it really isn’t any of my business, anyway.”

His stare remains locked on Lily, with that proud, faraway look that so often softens his expression when he watches her. “You’re following me just fine, sweetheart. You’re just a little off kilter because I sort of threw it at you. I’m sorry for that.”

Funny, you’ve never actually had an ‘I must be dreaming’ moment…but you’re certainly having one now. That has to be it, you’ve conjured this jumbled up mess inside your head.

You’re at home, still sleeping off the blunt shared with Jake. Right? No, you can feel the warm humidity of the day building in the air, there is the faint knock of a woodpecker lost somewhere in the trees, there is the sound of him breathing, waiting, existing, beside you.

This is no dream - but it’s every bit as confusing as one.

Afraid she might overhear, you pitch your voice less than a whisper, so quiet you almost don’t hear your own question, but Josh does.

“Yes, she’s Jake’s,” a gently possessive edge nips at his tone. “Biologically. It doesn’t matter, that little girl is mine, and I’m her’s. But yeah, that’s what I meant when I said I could never repay him. Look at her…”

A smile breaks across his face, warm, gorgeous, and absolutely beaming with adoration as he studies her pointing something out in the sand. Her buddy leans in closer to inspect her discovery, as they carry on what seems to be a very serious discussion.

“He gave me my favorite girl. My everything. I would’ve died for him before, now I’d do it with a smile just because he asked. How could I ever level the playing field?”

There’s that playing field making its appearance again, albeit for a very different reason this time around.

“I don’t understand.” And you don’t. You’ve never understood anything less in your life. You can’t get a read on how, or why, or if it really even matters. It’s like someone has taken all the facts you’ve ever known to be true and mixed them all up. Nothing makes sense. Nothing fits. The puzzle is jumbled and missing pieces.

“It’s a lot, I know.” He shrugs, already intimately acquainted with the situation that has ripped the rug out from beneath your unsteady feet. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you, but if I’m being honest…which I guess is exactly what we’re doing here…I didn’t want him to beat me to it. I wanted to be the one to tell you. I really don’t even know why, and it sounds stupid now that I’m saying it out loud.”

“He never said a word.” The moment you speak the words, you remember Jake’s, she looks like her dad.

Josh leans back against the weathered wood bench and crosses his ankle over his knee. You’d like to ask him how he’s so casually fucking with your head, but you know this really isn’t about you at all.

“Of course he never said a word. Our stoic mystery man, whom you can’t seem to quit. Just remember, my love, still waters run deep. There are a great many things that Jacob has never said a word about. He would have, though. Eventually. Something about you seems to just drag things to the surface for us. Sorceress.”

He’s only teasing. Likely trying to lighten the heaviness of the conversation, but you blush all the same. As only Josh can, he both grins at the pink in your cheeks, and pretends not to see it, to spare your pride.

The way they speak - so alike in sound, inflection, turns of phrase, poetically laced and lovely - only serves to confuse you further. At times, it's like being with the same man who just happens to have split personalities.

“A great many things Jacob has never said a word about,” You muse,” Bigger than this?” You’re not sure you want to hear the answer.

A laugh, easy and genuine, trips out of him, louder by far than anything that has been murmured thus far, “Fuck, I hope not!”

Lil’s head snaps up, attention hooked; though her friend is more interested in watching her reaction than what she is reacting to. “Daddy said a bad word!” The accusation in her tone makes him sigh, defeatedly.

“No, I didn’t!” Josh holds his hands up in innocence, clearly enamored by her tiny cross examination. “Daddy said truck. We were playing the rhyming game.”

“Like we play in the car on the way to Gramma’s?” She shouts over, with disappointment now coloring her end of the exchange…she delights in catching grown ups misbehaving.

“That’s the one.” He smiles with an exhale of relief, like a little boy who has just successfully evaded punishment. “Never, ever, tell anyone how coolly I just lied to that angelic face.” He adds through his teeth, smiling with a wave in her direction.

“That angelic face can be brutal.” You giggle at his nonsense. “Last week she caught me eating one of those vegetarian sushi rolls you hog for yourself, and milked me for extra goodies at snack time for days in exchange for silence.”

“Jokes on you,” he rolls his big brown eyes as if he can’t believe your behavior. “I count them, and I knew it all along.”

“Yeah, well, you just admitted to counting your sushi rolls, so who should be ashamed of themselves, here? ‘Cause it isn’t me.” You’re joking, but only a little.

After an absurdly easy stretch of silence, he turns serious and quiet again, “Look, I know that I dumped this on you, and I know you’ve probably got a million questions…you deserve answers to every single one of them. Come to mom’s with me, yeah? She’s making a big lunch. Sammy’s bringing the dog. It’ll be fun. We’ll eat, she’ll eventually insist on keeping Lil for the night and we’ll go home. I’ll make you dinner and we can talk.”

“Talk? Is that what the kids are callin’ it these days?” You grin, how is everything always so easy with him? This shouldn’t be so casual. It shouldn’t feel this normal to joke about sleeping with him while grappling with something so monumental.

Incidentally, why are you joking about sleeping with him? Because you want to put it out there, that you’re still thinking about it, that you still want it…that’s why.

How do they do this? Both of them. It hardly seems fair. Or normal, for that matter. And he has the nerve to talk of sorcery?

The wind is fluttering through the leaves, rustling them like a soothing psalm. It causes your thoughts to wander…which seems odd; how could you be thinking about anything but this nuclear bomb he has just detonated inside your head. But somehow, wander they do, your thoughts - and you find yourself eyeing the trees, trying to hone in on the one lucky enough to have earned Jake’s favor.

Like always, Josh seems to know what you’re thinking. “It’s across the park. Over closer to that little pond where Lil likes to feed the ducks.”

“What?” You adopt a puzzled expression, though you cannot for the life of you fathom why. Josh knows. Just like his brother, Josh always knows.

It is a frustrating, exhausting fact, but a fact all the same.

“Jake’s tree.” He clarifies, proving what you already understood to be true…that he can peer inside your head and heart as easily as he could were you made of windows. “It’s over by the pond. Would you like to see it?”

“No.” You brush your hands over your arms as if you’ve caught a chill, though the air borders on muggy.

“Okay,” He nods, completely at ease with this unusual situation you’ve found yourselves in. “Would you like to see him?”

Awkwardly, you watch those leaves as they wave and dance together, anything to save from meeting his eyes.

“Is okay to say yes, love…” he taps your knee, just an innocent ‘hello’, and so different from the last time he touched you. “I’d like to see him too. He’ll undoubtedly be at our mother’s lounging around like he owns the place. Come with us.”

“Do they know?” You venture tentatively, “Your parents?”

Your eyes are on him now as he shakes his head. Sometimes you forget how truly beautiful he really is and then you wonder how you ever could.

“Contrary to popular belief, Jake and I can keep a secret.”

“Not even your mother?” You find this hard to believe, as much as Jake taunts his twin for being a ‘mama’s boy’, he’s just as bad. They trust her with everything.

Josh nods at Lily, who is now flouncing her way over like a fairy who has misplaced her wand…all swishing ponytail and laughing eyes. “Not even her mother.”

The windows for questions has slammed shut, leaving all of yours to slam against the pane of glass like dazed birds.

~

“Rosie, get down!” Sam’s voice barks across the kitchen, startling you out of your thoughts. Rosie, unfazed and standing on her hind legs, continues to peruse the veggie plates and chip bowls Karen has set out on the counter, sniffing out delicious scents and temptations.

“Rosebud, I swear, if you don’t—“

“Samuel,” Karen scolds, snapping at him with the hand towel she’s been toting around. “Get off your ass and get her. Stop acting like an idiot in my kitchen.”

Sammy lopes over and grabs his faithful companion by the collar, lovingly tugging her away. “I don’t come here to be treated like I’m five, ma.” He complains, sweeping open the back door.

“Shut up, and go help your brothers.” She’s turned away from him and smiling, but judging by his returning smile, he has heard the adoration in her admonishing words.

At the table, bathed in the warmth of Karen’s sunny kitchen, you watch Jake and Josh confer near the enormous lilac bush Kelly has insisted be torn out.

“Too close to the septic system.” He’d informed the room when everyone protested ripping such a beauty from the earth, “The roots are gonna screw it all up and not a damn one of you are gonna want to come help clean up the aftermath.”

Of course, the boys have been tapped to help, as Kelly insists there’s no time like the present, and of course, Sammy has been shirking his duties ever since. True to form, rather than joining the twins, he opts for a chair to toss a tennis ball to Rosie from.

Your heart warms watching his honest and open face laugh gleefully as she chases down her bouncing prey. He is the sweetest gem, and you wish you knew him a little better.

But, as it so often does, your attention wanders back over to Josh, in his casual weekend wear, clean and crisp…and Jake, looking gorgeously rumpled and out of place in the domesticity of it all. You know he smells of ember and the Booker’s he is currently nursing out of a plastic tumbler to ensure Lil doesn’t ask questions.

You miss them both. They feel very far away as you watch on, smiling when they raise their arms to point something out to Kelly in perfect, unplanned, synchronicity.

Karen is suddenly beside you, staring out across the deck as well, chomping on a baby carrot. “It’s fun to watch them, isn’t it?”

She offers you a veggie and you take it, nodding in complete agreement around a bite.

“See how they mirror each other?” She marvels softly, wistful for her babies. “They’ve always done it. Even in the hospital, one would move, and there would go the other. Josh had terrible colic - briefly, thank god - and Jake would tense up even before Josh made a peep, like he could feel it coming. They’re each other's keepers.”

Be it motherly intuition, or perhaps just the nostalgia of having all of her boys home at once, she has chosen an ideal time to share. With the men all outside either tending to chores or shirking them, and Lil napping on the couch, you have her, and her memories, all to yourself.

“Tell me more about what they were like.”

If she senses something more behind the question, she doesn’t let on. “They were terrors. Little monsters, just awful. But, gentle angels at the same time. Always quick with a hug or a thoughtful comment. Even when they were just tiny things, they honed in on people and just sank their little teeth into heart after heart.”

“Some things never change then, I guess.” You shouldn’t have said it and long to take it back. They get their empathetic third eye from their mother, and you know she’ll clock the situation for what it is.

But again, she stays mum on the subject of why you seem just as wistful as she.

“They struggled so hard in school,” she finally confides, eyes on them as they begin wrapping ropes around the root of the bush that, evidently, must go. “It was painful. Mostly because they were just so intelligent, but it was all locked away when it came to brick and mortar schooling. They just froze right up behind those little desks.”

You knew this. Josh has explained their plight a hundred times over, wringing his hands with worry that Lily-bit might struggle to overcome the same mountains. Still, it’s so difficult to imagine them, easily two of the most intellectually enriched, well read and spoken human beings you have ever met, grappling with crippling learning disabilities.

“We worked with them endlessly, and hired tutors, and they tried so damn hard.” Her voice wavers a touch, as if she’s swallowing down tears. “When the pieces started falling in place for them, Josh took to reading faster than Jakey. He had these phonics books he liked, and they would hole up in their room for hours while Josh helped him sound the words out. I used to listen at the door. It was like magic…Josh would utilize all the inner workings of that shared mind they can access, and somehow, he’d make it make sense for his brother. He’d remind him to slow down and really see all those turned around letters so kindly it made you want to crumble. Josh was the only one Jake ever went to for help, you couldn’t have paid him to be that vulnerable with anyone else. And Josh just soaked it up, helping Jake connect those dots. He’d grow so ecstatic and proud with each tiny success.”

You both laugh as Josh shoves at Jake’s shoulder, pointing angrily at the lilac and their task, clearly unhappy with something his twin hasn’t executed to his liking.

“That’s when I knew he’d be a teacher.” Her hand, so warm and maternal, pats your shoulder. “Josh, that is. We knew Jake’s fate the minute he was old enough to crawl towards a guitar.”

“The music man,” you watch him nip at his cup, leisurely and mellow, even as his brother barks orders at him.

“The music man.” She concurs, crunching into another carrot. “Always. Have you ever seen him play a song by ear? He’ll listen to it once and just stare off into space like nobody’s home. But really, he’s plucking all those notes out and locking them away. Next thing you know, he’s got it. Just like that. It’s incredible. Kelly and I used to look at each other and think, where in the hell did he come from?”

“Josh, too,” you offer, though of course she knows. “He sings to Lil all the time. Makes up these dumb little songs to make her laugh, or to help her remember something. And he sings in the shower because he seems to think it’s a magical box where no one can hear him.”

“Ah, yes,” she laughs, sliding her plate closer to you, ever the ‘mom’ wanting to nourish anyone who walks through her hallowed halls. “The shower concerts. He used to steal all the hot water constantly. It was worth it, though, to listen. They had a little band for a while. Did you know that?”

In your mind’s eye, the few pictures you’ve seen, pop up to say hello. “Sort of, but Josh kinda blew it off when I asked. Said he just helped Jake out with a few gigs when they were kids.”

A belly laugh, so much like her sons’, trills out of her. “It was way more than that, that liar. Used to have to drag them to all these shitty bars and parties. Samuel played bass. A friend of theirs, the drums…or sometimes Josh. That was always interesting. They were a mess, all over the place, but they had something special. And that’s not just mom talking, everybody said so.”

“So, what happened?”

“They started gaining a little recognition. Started being invited to play at the nicer places around town, and that was the idea all along, we thought. But, suddenly, Jake wanted nothing to do with it.”

Jake calling it quits would have been the absolute last thing you would have deemed to be the nail in the coffin.

She senses your surprise and nods along with it. “He finally told me why one night. Came in after having one too many at one party out in the woods or another. I sat him down at this very table right here and I know he thought I was about to climb up his ass about tapping a keg with his friends or whatever the hell they did that night, but really, I wanted to drag the truth out of him. The truth that mattered.”

“And?”

She leans back in her chair, shaking her head as if she still can’t believe it. On your end, you watch Josh snatch the cup from Jake’s grasp to steal a sip of his own.

“And, it made sense…his reason. Once he said it out loud it made so much sense I still don’t know how I’d missed it. He said things were falling together too cleanly for the band. That he knew they were headed for something that would be too heavy to easily put down, and that he knew it wasn’t what Josh wanted.”

A sigh sounds sad, but her eyes swim with pride for her youngest twin. “I told him he should let his brother make that call, but he’s always been wiser than the rest of us when it comes to Josh, and he said ‘That’s the thing, ma. He’s always gonna choose what I want. He has to think he’s choosing what I want.’”

Your throat feels tight with tears bitten back, “The way they have carried each other all through life is just…” you fall silent, lost for apt words.

“Yeah, well, they used to beat the hell out of each other on a regular basis, too, but that is for another day..” She nods toward the doorway behind you, and you turn to see Lil, rubbing her eye with one fist, and clutching her blanket with the other, as she stumbles nearer to coherency and her grandmother.

Karen scoops her up and whispers in her ear…Lil nods along and nuzzles her blankie, which is actually an old shirt of her daddy’s cut in half. Maroon and decorated with strange, colorful, geometric shapes, it has been her comforting companion for as long as you’ve known them.

“Okay, then…” Karen stands and deposits her favorite person down on her teensy feet. “Time to get this lunch finished up.”

Lily is sent off with a bribery popsicle to play with Rosie and Sam, as the two of you begin preparing to feed the brood.

~

“Why do I always find you up here, poppins?” He’s leaning against the doorframe, like the casually dapper lead in some movie he would never watch.

You turn away from the desk, where you’ve been gingerly touching relics, as though strolling through a particularly lenient museum.

You love this space, and you make no apologies for it. “I like it in here. Comforting chaos is kind of your brand. Both of you. Why do you always seem to be sneaking up on me in here?”

He grins softly as you lob the question back at him. “I suppose I am always sneaking up on you, aren’t I? Looking for you, searching you out, hunting for my girl.”

Hunting for my girl…jesus.

A gentle hum is your only reply as he slips into the room, kicking the door closed with the heel of his boot. He has showered since the lilac bush incident, and stepped into clean clothes that still somehow look disheveled.

His hair is still slightly damp, and you long to bury into it, to breathe in the perfume of fresh shampoo and him.

“You spoiled me last night, you know, babe.” Down he plops on his bed, the crowned royal head draped across his sovereign throne, just as he had been the last time you found yourself in this room with him. “Why don’t you come over here and allow me to indulge a little more, hmm? Can you be quiet, pretty girl?”

“Jake.”

He kisses the air lazily in your direction, folding his hands behind his head against the pillow, like you haven’t spoken his name at all, “C’mon, baby, I haven’t had my dessert yet.”

You want to go to him. God, how you want to go to him. You want to climb on top of him and fuck his beautiful mouth until you fall apart, and then you want to lie with him in this silent world it seems time has forgotten. You want to be his while her face smiles out of all those curling, yellowing, snapshots. She was so beautiful, a stunning package to hide all the ugliness she had in store for his precious heart.

But, you want truth even more.

“Would you have ever told me?” Your question - accusation? - comes a whisper.

He sits up slowly, eyes locked in and narrowed on yours. He knows what you’re asking, but he’s trying to make certain. You let him watch you for the longest stretch, with his pretty face tilted, studying, observing, until you’re fighting to sit still under his white hot scrutiny.

“Yes.” He nods, at last. “I think I probably would have. It’s interesting, isn’t it? The way you coax the truth out of us. Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?”

There they go again, singing different verses of the very same song.

“She’s what you gave up?” You lean forward, hushed and hungry for answers. “Like we talked about?”

He nods again, barely perceptible in the movement. “Like a kidney, right, poppins? Only so, so much worse.”

Questions gridlock inside your head as he shakes his own. “I told you before, it isn’t my story to tell, babe…and that’s just the way this one has to be.”

He closes up shop with a blink and saunters, calm and cool as ever, over to the door. “C’mon then, Mary Poppins, if you aren’t going to allow me to have my way with you, we really should rejoin the others.”

~

“Would you like something light?” Josh peers into his fridge while you watch from your perch on the counter. “I just picked up some strawberries from that little stand around the corner, I could make us a big salad. Fruit, nuts, romaine, a nice vinaigrette?” He holds up the basket of berries proudly. “Look how fat they are. Fucking beautiful.”

“Whatever you want, Josh,” you smile at his enthusiasm, as well as his eagerness to please.

He turns his attention to the pantry, and your pulse picks at the memory it conjures. “Pasta?” He holds up a box of angel hair, shaking it around invitingly. “I could whip up some butter and herbs, get you drunk on carbs.”

“Seriously, whatever you want is fine. Order a pizza for all I care.”

True to his predictions, Lily remained at the Kiszka homestead, and was half asleep in Jake’s arms by the time the two of you took your leave. And now here you sit, aching to blurt out question after question while he forages in his kitchen to put together a meal you couldn’t care less about.

“Alright,” he nods, and back to the fridge he goes, finally turning to face you bearing an untouched container of his beloved veggie sushi rolls. “Pretties for the thief?”

“It was one damn piece, Joshua.” You laugh, rolling your eyes at his ridiculous name calling.

“Grab a white and a couple glasses,” he nods over at the wine rack.

You do as instructed, and join him where he has settled in the living room, placing the stemware carefully on the coffee table before uncorking the bottle of reisling you selected. It should be chilled, but neither of you have ever cared much to begin with.

On his elegant end, he loudly wrenches open the plastic container and slides it over unceremoniously.

Without cheers, he tips his glass and then shrugs, “Okay, sweetheart, this is the story of myself, my Lily, and my idiot brother…”

Taglist: @gretasintrees @greta-van-chaos @celestialfauna @s0livagant @groggyvanfleet @kiszkathecook @brokenbellz @llightmyllovee @jakesgrapejuice @doodle417 @seventieswhore @jake-kiszkas-smirk @weightofdreams-gvf @imdepressedaf1996 @alisonwonderland29 @gretavanfleas @gretavangroove @sparrowofthedawn @xserenax-13 @tbagggvf @obetrolncocktails @tripthelightjaketastic @jakeslovehandles @poofyloofy @70sgroupielovr @heatmyfleet @age-of-nyahh @sammiboo162 @gretasmokerising @spicedandicedtea @jakekiszkasleftnutsack @saoirsemaeve @mywickeddivinity @thelvnternskeeper @paintmyhouse @tripthelightfandomtastic @tripthelight-fanfic @mckenna4 @sarakay-gvf @theweightofjake @thewritingbeforesunrise @joshsmama @sammysvanfeet @rhythm-of-space @highladyofasgard @jordie-gvf-admin @calumspretty @sunfl0wer-power @sad1lynn @starcatcher-jake @gretavangroupie

[ryuichirou]

hm how about TW bottoms reactions to their top not pulling out on time

Now that’s a good question, even though whenever I draw anything on a spicier side, it’s like I completely forget that sometimes people pull out. I thought that I wouldn’t be able to come up with anything interesting because of that, but thankfully the characters are fun enough for miracles to happen lol

Alright, so…

Riddle – if it’s Trey, Riddle’s just going to whimper helplessly, maybe even get concerned or a bit scared if this is the first time, but it’s all good, because Trey will take care of him anyway. If it’s Floyd, Riddle is going to go ballistic lol In a very hypocritical Riddle manner, despite the fact that he kind of enjoyed feeling Floyd juice running down his legs, Floyd will get off-with-your-head’ed for that.

Deuce – he kind of likes it when his lover does it inside; he only asks not to do it when it’s too late at night + he has club activities that day, because it takes too long to clean and doesn’t feel right when he runs after that. So if Ace doesn’t pull out when he was asked to do it, Deuce is going to yell at him and maybe even punch or kick him. Surprisingly, if it’s Jack who did it, Deuce wouldn’t have such strong reaction, because he knows that Jack didn’t mean to… (rude, Ace didn’t mean to do it either!!)

Leona – he might say “hey” and look annoyed, but he doesn’t mind it actually. Sometimes he scoffs and says “good job, you know you’ll have to clean it yourself right?” and pretends to fall asleep while Ruggie thinks about whether it was worth it or not…

Jamil – he is disappointed but not surprised. He knows that Kalim prefers it that way. He also knows that if he wants Kalim to pull out, he must either do it himself (by jumping off the dick right before Kalim cums, thank god Jamil can always tell when it’s going to happen) or asking Kalim to do it somewhere else in a sexy way. The latter option is too embarrassing, but the first option upsets Kalim… Jamil can’t use Snake Whisper either, because that defeats the purpose of having sex with Kalim: if he doesn’t remember it well, he wants to repeat the process. So for the majority of time Jamil just asks Kalim not to cum inside, and Kalim says “sure thing”… and does it anyway because he forgot :(

Vil – he is also disappointed but not surprised, but a little bit less than Jamil. When Vil asks Rook not to do it inside, a lot of times Rook is nice enough to comply with his wishes. But this is actually a strategic decision for Rook: if he never listens to Vil, Vil is going to come up with a way to stop Rook from cumming altogether or just refuse to have sex with him lol So the compromise is that Rook listens to Vil when he asks him not to… except sometimes he doesn’t and cums inside anyway.  Vil just never knows when to expect it. So if it happens, he would actually feel a wave of pleasure through his entire body, but then sigh and scold Rook. Although sometimes it’s a very playful flirty scolding, because surprise surprise Rook’s disobedience is hot. And sometimes it’s similar to a “go sleep on a couch, you animal” thing…

Epel – he would get all blushy and warm inside at first, still a bit high on his own arousal and ecstatic about how perverted, rebellious and adult this whole thing is… but then he’ll realise how difficult it’s going to be to clean this out + how he can’t move at all without spilling it everywhere, so he’ll start panicking a little lol It’s okay, Epel, you’ll get used to it.

Idia – he is not the master of his own destiny, the concept of asking not to cum inside and his lover complying is kind of foreign to him. Out of all the tops, there is barely anyone who would do it, even Ortho is kind of a menace when it comes to this lol Ortho’s logic is “if I help niisan clean himself afterwards, it’s all good, right?”, so this is how it happens. To Idia, sex is exhausting either way… but still, if he asked his lover to pull out, and still ended up with a cream pie, he’s going to complain about it and switch between mumbling about certain someone being bad at holding back his urges, and mumbling about how he should create a machine that would clean his butt for him.

Silver – he isn’t used to his top pulling out in general, so he wouldn’t react at all. In fact, he would instead react if he was to pull out… he would blink with such confusion lol But then again, maybe his lover wanted to cum on his body or face instead, in that case he would understand… both Lilia and Sebek are someone who’d prefer to do it inside so lol

Malleus – in a way similar to Silver, but he is at least aware that sometimes his lover would pull out: maybe it’s because Malleus is a prince, maybe it’s because Malleus is a dragon fae and he should be more cautious about things that enter his body (ahem), but all that is irrelevant: if his lover was to pull out, Malleus would get upset and sulky, because he was really looking forward to the sensation of getting filled! Now you’ve ruined the whole thing, Lilia. Redo it immediately. Redo… him.

[lifewithchronicpain]

I have been watching the Curious Case of Natalia Grace, mainly for the second season where Natalia actually gets to speak for herself. It is so beyond upsetting, do not watch unless you're ready to rage.

There is a Lot to the story but I will sum it up as best I can. Natalia is a Ukrainian orphan with dwarfism, specifically Spondyloepiphyseal dysplasia congenita. Because of her disability she would need many surgeries for her feet, and money concerns related to this is considered one potential cause for what was to happen. After being passed around, a family called the Barnett's adopted her.

According them, Natalia was really an adult that was secretly trying to kill them. If it sounds familiar it's because it's the plot of the movie Orphan. This poor girl wound up with an incredibly abusive family that eventually decided they didn't want her but because the mother was so concerned with her image, she couldn't be seen as getting rid of a disabled child. So she tried to pass Natalia off as an adult pretending to be kid, and after lies and faked drama the Barnett's actually got Natalia legally re-aged to 22.

Natalia was actually about 8 years old. Dental records, DNA tests, doctor's records, her own biological mother, who gave her up because she couldn't care for a disabled child, all say she was born in 2003 and was a child at the time of these events.

So Natalia was put in an apt at age 8, and Mrs Barnett forced her to tell people she was 22. Ableism and ignorance of little people plays a huge part here, otherwise no one would have believed her age was 22 nor would it have been legally changed. Even though neighbors thought she was young, they went with the lie and proceeded to view entirely childish behavior as weird and annoying. Because she lacked the fucking boundaries and sense of stranger danger of a typical 8 year old!!!!! They also said she said a lot of sexually stuff, and I don't know why I should need to explain to you what 8 year olds do when they hear things!!! An 8 year old with no adult, looking to anyone for company and just help. It's beyond upsetting to think of what it must have been like for her during this time.

Natalia was evicted after a year and moved to another apartment. Not too long after being there she met a family that recognized she was a fucking child, took her in, and called the goddamn cops. First people in Natalia's poor life to do something for her. She is still with them to this day, with what looks like a beautiful loving family.

The Barnett's were charged, the husband was ables to get acquitted in part because the judge decided her Legal age would stand, and he could only be accused of abandoning a disabled person and not a minor. Meanwhile no one could let the jury know she was really a minor when this happened. Huge miscarriage of justice and the wife was never taken to trial.

It's a hard documentary to watch, especially when you get a lot of the Barnett's story first without much dissecting of the facts. But then you do get Natalia's side, and the Barnett's lies are laid to waste. One of them being that Natalia had pubic hair and a period. She never did, the wife made her say it to the husband. I mean, there's a lot of fucked up shit that happened to Natalia that I have not mentioned. I'm also not getting into the drama within the Barnett family except to say the husband tried to blame it all on the wife, claims he was abuse and avoids accountability, and is the most pathetic excuse for a human being, honestly. The wife is no better, she's just a monster.

The thing that pisses me off so much though are the attorneys, especially this one guy that Knows Natalia was a child and acts like she has to take accountability for being a troubled child. Of course he offers up all excuses for his client.

And that's the rub, Natalia had her childhood robbed from her, then and now. She's not ever granted the view of her behavior as mitigated by being a child. They even showed one of her neighbors refuses to accept she was 8 and not 22, and she knows for sure because she was hussy and just knows how to put on an act. It just amazes me how quick we are to jump to the most negative explanation for something and ignore any evidence to the contrary.

I'm just glad Natalia was able to have a voice in this drama, and that she finally has the family she had always wanted.

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

Odesta Week Day 4: Throwback Thursday

Annie is almost fourteen years old, and that is a very important age to be. Yes, there’s the ‘you’re growing up’ speech that her parents foisted onto her last year, but that’s not what she means. She’s talking about something even more important than that.

From the ages of twelve to fifteen, students are leaving District Four’s training facility in droves. That’s because this is where things start to get serious. A lot of parents pull their kids out before they reach sixteen, so they never live and train at the Academy full time. But the teachers are also cutting people from the program; anyone who can’t run or fight or survive is gone.

That won’t happen to Annie.

She’ll be sixteen soon enough, and then it will be her turn to live at the Academy. It will be her turn to become a Senior and eventually be selected as the volunteer. Her Games will be the 70th, the first of a new decade. She got really lucky in that way.

She’s just gotten out of a weapons class, but she needs somewhere quiet to study. Although the Academy doesn’t require as much studying as regular school, they’re still expected to know the most common causes of death and what weapons are most frequent at the Cornucopia. Annie finds her way to an isolated hallway, grinning as the sunlight that beams through the big windows hits her skin.

It’s only after she walks a little further that she realizes she isn’t alone.

He’s sitting on a bench, slumped against the wall, oddly still. The sunlight seems to illuminate him from the inside out. When he looks at her, his eyes are so vividly green that her breath catches.

Finnick Odair. In case that wasn’t clear enough from the description of his eyes.

Annie almost apologizes and walks away. Victors are supposed to be treated with the utmost respect, but Finnick Odair is only a year older than her, so it feels weird to treat him like any sort of authority.

“Mind if I sit?” she asks, faux casual. Hopefully she’s not overstepping. She’s pretty sure Finnick Odair doesn’t even know her name.

“Sure,” is all he says.

Annie joins him on the bench gingerly, pulling out her notebook that’s filled to the brim with her careful handwriting. This notebook has everything from arena strategy to fighting stances to different tactics for the Flickerman interview. Finnick peers over her shoulder, and Annie pretends she doesn’t care.

“I guess you don’t need this stuff anymore,” she says conversationally. There’s a hidden question in there too; what are you doing here? He must pick up on it because he huffs a laugh.

“I spent a lot of time here,” he says. “I used to come here when I needed to think.”

Annie feels heat rise in her cheeks. She’d never admit it because the last thing she wants to do is look stupid in front of Finnick Odair, but she does the same thing. “What are you thinking about now?”

“Are you going to volunteer?” Finnick asks, promptly changing the subject. It’s not a smooth transition at all, but she supposes that since he won the Hunger Games, some brusqueness can be excused.

She folds her notebook proudly in her lap. “Of course.”

He gives a vague hum of acknowledgement, and Annie can’t tell if it’s approving or disappointed.

“Do you have any advice?” she asks after a beat of silence.

“No,” says Finnick softly. “I thought I did. But I don’t.”

She gets the feeling that they’re not talking about the Games anymore. The only problem is that she doesn’t actually know what they are talking about. “Well, that’s okay. You’re only fourteen. You can take your time, right?”

He laughs. “I guess I have all the time in the world now.”

What that must feel like, to have achieved your life goal at fourteen. Annie can’t even imagine. She’ll be eighteen by the time she wins, practically an adult. It all feels so far away. “What are you going to do with it?”

He actually smiles now, and it’s genuine enough that his eyes brighten. “Eat all the saltwater taffy I can find.”

“Lucky,” she says. She’s actually salivating. The Academy doesn’t really do sugar; the closest thing she’s had to real dessert since she turned twelve is protein cookies, which are definitely more protein than cookie. “When I win, I’m going to have so many muffins.”

“What kind of muffins?”

“Chocolate. Obviously.”

Finnick hums. “Solid choice. You don’t have to win to have muffins, though. They have them in the Capitol.”

“It’s not the same,” Annie says immediately. Victory muffins will just be different. She watches the swatches of sun on the ground until they start to swim in her vision and she has to look away. “What’s the Capitol like?”

“It’s cool,” he says with a shrug.

When he doesn’t elaborate, Annie asks, “That’s it?”

“I don’t know. It’s weird. The people dress like they’re in costumes all the time. And they sound weird when they talk.” His eyes meet hers guiltily. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“I won’t,” she says solemnly.

“It’s not too late to drop out of the Academy,” he says, and Annie’s caught so off guard by the sudden change in topic that she almost drops her notebook.

“What? I’m not dropping out. I’m going to—”

“Win the Games, yeah,” Finnick finishes. He’s not looking at her anymore, but his eyes have taken on a glassy look. “Just try to think about if that’s really what you want.”

What is he even talking about? “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I was reaped,” he reminds her.

“I know,” Annie replies, because she’s watched the reapings of every living victor enough times to memorize them. “But you trained here before that. You must have wanted it a little.”

Finnick shrugs. “I guess. I don’t really remember, honestly. Everything feels different now.”

It would, after an experience like the Hunger Games.

Annie stands up, sliding her notebook back into her bag. “I hope you figure it out,” she offers. “Whatever it is you’re thinking about.”

His eyes gleam in the sun as he looks up at her. “Thanks, Annie.”

[anylady-fics]

Friends | Bang Chan x F Reader

Summary:

[...]

People always say never to slide through someone else's photos, but I was just trying to find the best one among the many we took. Then I saw something I shouldn't have. It wasn't intentional—I wasn’t looking for anything—but there it was.

[...]

Or... she found her best friend's nude pic and freaked out about it.

*** this work is for adult audiences. Minors DNI ***

Warnings: couch sex, creampie, oral sex, vaginal sex, rough sex, fingering

6,792K words - cross posted on ao3

Ⴡ Masterlist

Christopher and I have been friends since high school, and we're always together in college too, even though we study different things. We've had so many experiences together, a lot of hangovers, and a ton of stories to tell. But despite what people might think, nothing romantic ever happened between us.

I get why people might think otherwise, since we're always together, hugging or just having some kind of physical contact. Chris is the kind of friend who really takes care of his close friends. He carried me on his back when I was sick and needed to go to the hospital, when my shoes destroyed my feet, or anytime I needed help, no matter the reason. That's just who he is. Explaining this to my ex-boyfriends was always tricky, and Chris had to deal with some jealousy issues in his relationships too.

We're so alike in everything, even in our mischief, and we know secrets about each other that will probably go to the grave with us. We're that close, just best friends, partners in crime.

Our Friday routine after class was to hit the same bar, sit at the same table, and play games with others until they kicked us out because they couldn't stand losing anymore. Sometimes we had a few drinks, but since we started working out together, it was pretty rare. Chris turned me into a gym rat, acting like my personal trainer, which sucked but was pretty effective, I must admit.

Sometimes our weekend parties led to dates, but separately. He'd hook up with a girl, and I'd find a guy, and we'd talk about it the next morning. Occasionally, only one of us would get lucky, and the other would go home alone, but that was rare.

Life was good, no problems between us for years, until one damn day at the bar. We decided to take a picture together since it had been a while since we posted anything, and all our friends were there, which was uncommon. We used his phone, and I was editing the photo like I had done a thousand times.

People always say never to slide through someone else's photos, but I was just trying to find the best one among the many we took. Then I saw something I shouldn't have. It wasn't intentional—I wasn’t looking for anything—but there it was.

First, an explicit nude showed up, taken from below. I'd recognize that hand and those painted nails anywhere. And despite his abs... oh my god! I panicked and slid again, finding even more explicit dick pics. I was so shocked I didn't know what to do. There were even pics of him in just his black boxers.

I tried to slide back to the original photos, but I was shaking, and my face must have shown how freaked out I was. He was coming closer, so I quickly blocked the screen. I was sure he saw his own photo on the screen before I turned the phone face down on the table, pretending nothing happened with my best poker face.

“What happened?” He grabbed the phone, sitting right next to me.

“Nothing! Send me the pics later, okay? I’ll edit them.”

“Hm…” He unlocked the phone, and the pic was still there. Being shameless as he was, he really didn't care. “I think you saw them… well, that’s what happens when you slide through someone else's photos!”

He just played dumb and laughed really loud while my cheeks burned. I was haunted by how shameless he was. I always thought I was as bold as him, but I would've totally freaked out if the same thing happened to me—if he had seen me naked through some photos that weren't meant for him.

“Why the hell do you keep that on your phone? What if someone steals it?” I tried to sound normal, but my voice was shaky. Something clicked in my head the moment I saw those pictures.

I wasn’t blind. Christopher had always been really hot, but I just didn’t look at him like that. Even knowing he had a pretty active sex life, I never asked about it and didn’t want to know any details. Well, now I have seen plenty of details in those photos…

Fuck, I was so nervous.

“Aren’t you overreacting? You can’t even tell it’s my d—”

“I could tell.”

“How?”

“I think we should forget about it. Will you give me a ride home? I have to go, there's that thing tomorrow.”

“Wow, you're really like this just because of the photos? Good thing you didn’t see the video, then…” He laughed again, and I was just paralyzed, feeling really slow to process everything since I saw those photos on my best friend's phone.

“What do you mean? Oh, forget it, I don’t want to know. Please, can we go?”

“You know what kind of video…”

“Just shut up, Chris.”

We stood up and said goodbye to all our friends. For a few moments, I could forget what happened, but that didn’t last. Chris’s place was on the way to mine, so I used to get a ride with him every day coming back from college. On our way, I was totally quiet, just hoping I could wake up the next day and not care at all about what I saw. If I didn't, it could be a big problem. I was already really disturbed thinking about the video he mentioned—it could be him jerking off. Just thinking about it made my body feel really weird, which felt wrong.

“We’re here. Are you sleeping?”

I didn’t notice we were in front of my house for a few seconds. I was looking outside, avoiding him the whole way and not even commenting on the awful music he played to annoy me.

“Oh, my bad. Yeah, I’m so sleepy…” I tried to fake a laugh but failed.

Chris was looking at me, already suspecting something, but he didn’t say anything, thank God for that. I said goodbye, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek like always, and jumped out of the car as fast as I could. Once I was in my room, alone with my thoughts, I finally stopped pretending everything was okay and started really thinking about what happened.

I saw photos of my best friend’s dick—a lot of them. It was… nice? So thick, with all those veins… Fuck. I could congratulate him for it. That’s why he was so cool about someone seeing his genitals unintentionally. He knew exactly what he could cause with that kind of picture and wasn’t worried if somebody saw it. His high self-esteem was kinda explained in a few seconds. But, problem: I liked what I saw. Oh, I liked it a lot… I liked it so much that I wished I could taste it. But how could I do that? God, it was Chris! I shouldn’t even be thinking of him this way, but I got home with soaked panties from seeing the photos and just imagining there was a video, too. It might not even exist; he could have said it just to mess with my head.

Oh, what a regret for even touching that phone.

When I lay down to sleep, I just hoped the impure thoughts about my best friend would leave me alone. But I can’t even describe how disappointed I was when I woke up, and the first thing I thought of was his dick pic, one in particular that gave me so many details…

Urgh, I was hating myself. How could I be like this? I’ve received so many dick pics before, even bigger ones, but none affected me like that.

As a result, I spent the whole day keeping myself busy and barely talking to him. In fact, we didn’t text at all. We usually talked all day, even if it was just sending memes to each other, but the last message was from him saying he got home, and I didn’t even reply.

I felt really bad and thought about sending him something just to pretend everything was okay, so he wouldn’t know something was wrong, but his message popped up on my phone first.

Chris Bang: Sup! We have that party today, wanna go?

Me: Idk, kinda tired…

Chris Bang: k, let me know in 1h. If u want, we can just watch a movie or something.

Usually, I would just say yes to the movie, and we’d be great. But just thinking about being in the same place with him, in the dark… oh. I really needed professional help. I felt even worse because I was pushing him away because of my craziness, so I decided to do anything that could help clear my head.

I exercised a lot. It was okay. After being totally exhausted, I felt better. I took a deep breath and replied to him, saying yes to the movie night. He texted that we could meet at his place and asked me to bring something to eat that wouldn’t mess up our diet.

I took a long shower, and when I opened my closet to pick my clothes, I saw two of his shirts there. I used them to sleep sometimes. My mind went to the wrong place pretty fast, but I managed to get it back on track equally fast. Thank God, I was coming back to my normal self.

I picked an oversized look with huge pants, a shirt, and my favorite sneakers. I just checked my hair before I left.

The way to his house was short and familiar; it barely took 5 minutes to get there. I brought just popcorn and sparkling water, feeling sad for us.

As soon as Chris opened the door, I looked at his face and felt all weird, avoiding eye contact and remembering those fucking pictures all over again. I took a deep breath after he hugged me to say hello, and for my bad luck, it felt totally different than it did two days before.

“Wow, you’re really taking it seriously…” he pointed to our snack. “You have more results than me already!”

“Oh, please! You have abs! I’m still flabby…”

“No, no… don’t say that. I’m there with you and didn’t see anything flabby.”

He used his natural flirting tone, but it hit me so differently that it was hurtful. I was used to it; he always did that. So why the hell was my face burning just from thinking that he was looking at me, at my body? Yeah, watching a movie was going to be hard.

I was really embarrassed about myself, my thoughts, and my behavior. It wasn’t right that Chris just messed with my head like that out of the blue; it could really mess up our friendship.

The problem was… I was too easy to read, like an open book. He knew pretty fast when something was wrong, and he always waited for me to say it before he had to ask. I was already getting nervous because I sucked at lying to him, and I knew that as soon as the movie ended, he would be asking questions.

During the movie, we were really close on the couch, which was pretty normal for us. We always did that, but I was freaking out inside, wondering how weird it would be if I just… decided to sit a little farther from him. Yeah, that would be a bad idea. I just took a deep breath and tried to forget about the photos and all the crap I was thinking, focusing on the movie and staying quiet.

As the movie played, I kept my eyes glued to the screen, trying to ignore the way his arm brushed against mine or how his laugh made my heart skip a beat. I needed to get a grip, fast. 

It was a horror movie, and I really wanted to watch it, but... well. Chris was really into it. He had this habit of putting a cushion on his lap during movies, and this time he had chosen a fluffy one. The way his hands slid over it, repeatedly... it really got into my head. Oh my god. For fuck’s sake, he didn't stop caressing it, and I always had a thing for hands, and his were particularly sexy... especially with his black-painted nails and rings.

Oh my god, it was so embarrassing. I felt like a desperate whore, but just for him.

“You’re snorting…” He came even closer to me. “Is everything okay?”

“I’m not snorting!”

“Yes, you are. You’ve taken so many deep breaths that you’re scaring me more than this movie. Wanna stop watching?”

I was curled up on the couch, holding my knees and hiding most of my face.

“It’s nothing, let’s keep watching!”

“You know you can’t lie to me, right? Let's finish the movie, but then you’ll tell me what happened.”

Oh, sure! How could I say it? 'Hi, Chris! So… I saw those dick pics of yours, and now I’m interested'? 

My head was spinning, and nothing useful was coming to mind. I thought about so many ways to make him forget about this, but it wasn’t going to work. Buuut… a small part of me, I mean, really small… tiny, wanted him to know what I was thinking. Maybe if I just spit it out, we’d laugh ourselves to death and then it would all be over. He’d probably mock me about it, telling me how sensitive I am for being all weird over a nude.

Maybe… just maybe, that was the solution, and I was really inclined to do it. Just tell him I was feeling weird about seeing those photos.

The movie ended, and I started to panic when he turned off the TV and faced me.

“Now tell me, what is it?”

“It’s nothing, Chan. Relax, it will pass soon.”

“You’re making me worry. Did something happen at home? With your family?” He touched my arm, and I felt so guilty seeing his worried expression. He could be really sweet sometimes.

“It 's not that. Actually, it’s something stupid, just let it go.”

“Did some guy act like a jerk to you? That one from the bar? I knew it… do you want me to help with that?”

“Oh, God… Chris, just let this go. Please? It 's not that.”

“You know you’re not going home without telling me what happened, right? Besides, the fact that you still haven’t told me is making me really concerned.”

“It 's nothing. And it’s too dark here…”

“Hmmm, are you scared after that movie?” He pointed the remote at his lights and set them to keep changing colors. “Now talk.”

“Actually… no, I can’t tell you that. You’re gonna mock me.”

“It depends, maybe I will. For fuck’s sake, woman, just say it.”

“Okay, ahm… oh god. Okay. I got a bit weird because… ahn, I can't, Chris. I’m going home now.”

I stretched my legs, put my feet on the ground, and almost got up from the couch, but he held me and made me sit down again. This time, he was even closer, and I could smell his wonderful scent, making my situation much worse.

“Really, what happened?”

“The photos that I saw yesterday…” I didn’t even finish the sentence, but it wasn’t necessary.

He tilted his head like a dog trying to understand its owner and then burst out laughing, but he didn’t let me go, just held me firmly, probably already knowing I’d run off at the first chance.

“You’re like this just because you saw the photos? I can’t believe it!”

“Oh, wow! How funny.” I was serious, and tried to hide my face again, but he pulled me closer and stared at me, waiting for me to say more. It wasn’t fair that I was so affected while he just kept laughing. “It wasn’t just the pictures, but what they did to me after.”

“Hm, tell me more.”

“I couldn't stop thinking about it since yesterday, I thought it was obvious.”

“So… you've been thinking about my dick since yesterday?”

I started to laugh, but it was a nervous laugh, totally shocked by how shameless he could be. I knew he’d mock me like that, but I didn’t expect to be even more turned on by it. Hearing him say that... fuck.

“Yeah, exactly. And you mentioned a video. What video, Chris? Why the hell did you have to leave that on your phone? Everything was fine before that.”

“Let me see if I got this right…” His voice lowered, and I shrunk even more on the couch, holding my knees again. “You’re all weird because you’re… horny?”

“Basically, yeah. But I can’t. I can’t see you like that.”

“For fuck’s sake, do you know how many times I’ve felt attracted to you like that? Imagine if I got all weird about it.”

“Excuse me? What do you mean?”

I was in complete disbelief. He was naturally a flirt, always hitting on me and every girl around him, but I never thought it was serious. Never.

“Yeah, it’s normal for me. Of course, it’d be harder if I’d seen you naked - and I’m not saying I don’t want that - but, I don’t know… you don’t have to feel like this.”

“Oh my god, you’re really a naughty one, aren’t you? Why did you never say anything?”

“Because I didn’t want you getting all weird about it. I know I’m fine with it.”

“Well, it’s different. You’re used to it.”

We sat in awkward silence for a few moments, and then I noticed how his expression had changed. The way he was looking at me, biting his lower lip and trying to read me… and that damn smile.

“So… you wanna see it? The video, I mean.” He took his phone and unlocked it in front of me. I was speechless, just staring at that damn phone in his pretty hands.

I blinked a few times, thinking about it. It wasn’t unpredictable… I kinda knew he’d want to show me the video if he thought I wanted to see it. And I had made it really clear how much I was thinking about it. Of course he’d offer.

“I’m just kidding! Unless you really want to…”

Oh god, the way he smiled and bit his tongue was killing me. I wanted to throw a shoe at his face, but at the same time, I was tempted to take the phone and watch the damn video. I had the brilliant idea of being as shameless as him, just pushing to see how far he’d take it.

“You’re really okay with it? No shame? Then show me.”

“I have no reason to be ashamed. You did see the photos… and liked them.” He opened his gallery, and the pictures were still there. He made his point by sliding through each one and commenting on which he liked most. Coincidentally, it was my favorite too.

“Here, it’s the next one. Make yourself comfortable.”

He handed me the phone, and I realized I was shaking when I took it. I thought I could keep a cool expression and pretend that everything was normal, like seeing my best friend touching himself was no big deal, but well… I failed. I knew I was screwed the moment the video started to play, and it had audio.

Hearing Chris moaning while pleasuring himself was so hot it made me clench, and my brain just shut down. I hadn’t even considered this until yesterday; it was so unfair. I kept watching the video, enjoying it more than I wanted to, and apparently, it was made when he was close to cumming because it was short… just a few seconds. I watched him cum on his abs before the video stopped. My body was really tense when I handed back his phone, struggling to think of anything to say that wouldn’t embarrass me even more.

“That was it. No big deal.”

“Do you have premature ejaculation? This video is 15 seconds long.”

Maybe provoking him like that wasn’t a clever thing to do because I was really affected by the video. But I tried, even with a dry mouth, weak legs, and being totally soaked through my panties.

“I’m not! I recorded it when I was close.”

“Sounds like something a premature guy would say…” I liked seeing his tone get serious, his ego clearly hurt by my question.

“If you keep saying that, I’ll understand that you want me to prove you wrong…”

That escalated quickly. From the moment he decided to show me that video, I knew there was no way back. Our little fun could continue, but it was leading us somewhere kinda dangerous yet inevitable since I spoke the truth. For a moment, I really thought he’d just make some jokes and forget about it, but the tension between us would get unbearable. That would happen anyway, so…

“You can try.”

“You’re testing me? Because you know I’m fine with that.”

“No, I was just thinking… I got all shaken up for nothing. It’s not that much, right? I mean, you did take the pic from below to make it look bigger…”

I tried to keep provoking him since it was really affecting his huge ego, but I didn’t imagine it would go that far. His reaction...

Chris took one of my hands and made me touch his hard cock through his shorts to feel him, all of him. My reaction wasn't planned—I just squeezed and grabbed really hard the moment I felt him, hard as a rock below my fingers. Then I pulled my hand back, feeling a bit weird about it.

“Christopher!”

“You teased me, now you gotta handle it.”

God, I just realized how hot I was feeling. My whole body was responding to him. I felt the heat, my neck and cheeks were burning.

“We shouldn’t…” I was just looking for an extra dose of convincing because I already knew we were going to do it.

“You think so?” He stood up, the thin fabric of his gym shorts hiding nothing, and the way he grabbed his own dick, feeling himself, made me shiver. “I’ll stop when you ask me to.”

First, he stripped off his shirt and threw it on the couch right beside me. I think my jaw just dropped when he lowered his shorts, revealing his waistband. In just a second, he was wearing nothing but his boxers, touching himself, squeezing his clothed dick right in front of me, staring at my face and testing me.

I didn’t notice how hard I was pressing my thighs together, feeling my pussy throb because of the tension and the touches I was denying myself, making a huge effort to stay still while watching him.

“Wanna tell me what you thought about those photos?” He hooked one of his fingers into the waistband of his underwear, lowering it just enough for me to see the trimmed hair on his pelvis.

“Are you really gonna touch yourself in front of me?” I shifted a little on the couch and felt the wetness between my legs, so intense that I could leave a stain where I was sitting. I couldn't believe the situation and how turned on I was because of it.

“I told you that I’ll stop if you ask…” He lowered his underwear a bit more, revealing a part of his length. I wet my lips, feeling my mouth water at the thought of sucking him, imagining his taste, his veins, everything…

When Chris finally stripped off his last piece of clothing, I was speechless. It was even better than the pictures or the video, as I expected. Watching the way his hands worked on his dick, grabbing and stroking slowly while he watched me… it was too much. I was losing my mind.

“So… wanna tell me? What you were thinking, huh?”

“About this… you touching yourself for me to watch.” I couldn't look at his face, even if I wanted to.

“Hm… what else?” He sped up a bit, stroking and pressing his head slightly, making me feel an insane urge to taste him, watching the precum already leaking from his cock. 

“I thought about how it would be to suck your dick… trying to fit everything in my mouth.”

“Oh, I think you can do it. You were just telling me that it’s that big, right? Feel free to try, I’d love to watch you.”

This time I looked up and saw him smiling at me, knowing exactly what he was doing to me. Chris took advantage of my eye contact to bite his lip and stroke his dick a little harder. I lost all control when he looked down and moaned, making my pussy clench around nothing, wishing he was inside me already.

“You can stop, I don’t want you to cum… not like that.” I sat on the edge of the couch and touched his thighs, feeling his muscles under my fingers, noticing every detail that I’d never seen this close.

“And you called me naughty… look at you, wanting my dick and not knowing how to ask for it.”

“Oh, I don’t need to ask… you’re slutty enough to give it to me without asking.”

“Is that a problem?” He kept touching himself, and I watched closely, already shaking with anticipation of touching him, tasting him.

“Of course not.”

I wrapped my hand around his hardness, moving his own out of the way. Gripping his dick at the base, I stroked slowly, running my fingers along his entire length, relishing the feel of his skin and the torment it brought me. When I noticed more precum leaking, I couldn't resist. I took him into my mouth and sucked eagerly, not wanting to miss a drop, sucking hard and stretching my cheeks with him.

"So hungry for my cock, baby…" He ran his fingers through my hair, pushing it behind my ear before holding my head to pull me back a little. I watched the saliva connecting his cock to my lips and smiled, looking up at his face, making it clear that I wanted much more. His taste was already on my tongue, and I became addicted the moment I tasted it.

He held his cock, rubbing it against my lips, and I stuck my tongue out, wanting to make him even wetter for me to suck as soon as he slid back inside.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about you sucking me like that." This time, he pressed more firmly against my tongue, and I closed my lips around his head, savoring his taste once more.

"You're something else…" I managed to say before he pulled my hair, tilting my head to the side while still rubbing his dick against my lips and cheeks.

"So are you…" I felt the weight of his hardness against my face, tapping against my skin occasionally, teasing me as he stroked his cock. The urge to strip off all my clothes overwhelmed me, my legs trembling with anticipation. "That's why we fit so well."

I bet it must have been a real treat for him to watch me smiling at him like I did while he teased me, rubbing his cock against my face. I was really pleased with the outcome because he finally let me suck him again, pushing himself into my mouth and using both hands to guide my movements.

I grabbed onto his thighs, digging my nails into his skin every time he held my head to make me take him all in. I have to admit, I was loving every moment of it. I kept sucking without stopping, making it wet and sloppy, varying the pressure with my lips and mouth, paying attention to his reactions and doing everything to make him moan louder for me.

After a few minutes, my jaw was starting to ache, and as much as I wanted him to come, I was already soaking wet with arousal. I couldn't keep going like that, so I pulled away and used my hands to jerk him off while I caught my breath, my face all wet.

"You still think that I'm premature?" He laughed, passing his thumb over my swollen lips. "Lie down and strip. Let me take care of you now."

"I never really thought that, you know? I just wanted to see you nervous. It worked perfectly..." I leaned back on the sofa and unbuttoned my pants. Chris quickly took care of removing them, pulling them down my legs.

"Look what you've done..." My panties were completely soaked, as if I'd jumped into a pool with them on. They were light blue, so the dark stain was visible even in the dim light of his lamp.

"Did you get this wet by sucking on my dick?" He ran his fingers over my mound and down, feeling the wetness, fascinated by what he found. "Or did you come here already wet, thinking about me?"

"A bit of both..." I spread my legs wider to give him better access, watching as he moved closer to the damp fabric. "But sucking you off did most of the damage. I was really needy for it..."

He pressed his nose against my clit through the fabric, and I felt his tongue slide over everything, making me shiver despite the barrier of my panties.

"You should've told me you were this wet. I could've had my face drenched in that pussy sooner."

"I was too busy watching your show." I pulled off my shirt, left in just the sports bra I'd chosen without planning to get naked in front of anyone.

I thought he’d finally take my panties off and give me some relief, but Chris just stood there watching me undress. Then he came over to the couch, letting his body weight press down on mine, leaning in to kiss me.

Honestly, I never thought something like this would happen. Somehow, kissing him felt even more intimate than sucking his cock. It wasn’t a complaint, far from it. I’d been waiting for the moment to do it, his mouth was really something.

The kiss was amazing, igniting my whole body with a burning desire for him. The way his tongue moved against mine, circling and sucking... I could only imagine how it would feel if he was licking my pussy. My hands were on his back, feeling his muscles, scratching him each time he pushed his hips against mine, making me feel his hardness rubbing against my clit, leaving me breathless.

He laid beside me, and we kept kissing while one of his hands explored me. First, he pushed up my top to grab my tits, my sensitive nipples hardening at his touch. He had big hands, filling them with my chest, squeezing while his thumb circled my nipples. Every touch felt like it was reaching my core.

His hands slid down, caressing my belly and finally slipping into my panties. He teased me at first, rubbing my clit through the fabric and sinking his fingers into my labia, whispering in my mouth how wet I was for him. I spread my legs, and he pushed the panties aside, his fingers now touching my folds, playing with my pussy and then rubbing my clit.

“Gonna tease me forever? Put those fingers inside.”

“So impatient…”

Chris pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes, biting his lower lip as his fingers slipped inside. I closed my eyes and moaned, feeling myself tighten around him and hearing the wet sounds as he started moving. He was really good with his hands, just as I hoped he would be. He was so precise… His thumb massaged my clit the way I needed - I could cum really easily -, while he worked three fingers inside me, moving them nonstop. I was almost coming for him, and I started to grind against his hand. He was just watching me, moaning along with me as my orgasm hit, whispering in my ear how hot and tight I was for him.

I felt his fingers slide out of my wetness, and he brought them to his mouth, tasting me before kissing me again. I could taste myself on his lips as I removed my panties, sucking on his tongue.

Chris knelt down, moving my body like I weighed nothing, positioning me on my back with my legs spread. He supported himself on his elbows and began licking my pussy, his whole face pressed against me. His chin, tongue, lips, nose… every part of him rubbing against my arousal, licking and drinking me like I was the last drink in the world.

I couldn't hold back when he stuck his tongue inside me. I grabbed his hair and ground my hips against his face, searching for the perfect angle to cum again, even though I was still sensitive from my last orgasm.

He moaned with me, the vibrations of his voice against my skin intensifying my pleasure. When I came again, I tried to close my legs, trapping him between them because he refused to stop licking me, even as I squirmed on the couch, whining for him to stop.

I was panting heavily, still thinking I might regret what we were doing. That crazy thought vanished when he sat on the couch next to me, started touching himself again, and looked at me.

"Already tired, baby? I thought you could handle more."

I kneeled on the couch and took off my top, tossing it at him. My legs were still trembling a bit - a lot - , but I crawled over and straddled him, placing a leg on each side of his body, settling on his thighs, and holding onto his shoulders.

“It’s much better when your mouth is busy…” I ground against his cock as he kept stroking himself. I grabbed his dick and positioned it at my entrance, rolling my hips to tease him a bit before sliding him inside me. I moved slowly, feeling how he filled me up with his hardness, burying himself deep inside me while he grabbed my buttcheeks and spread them, making me take him all in.

I felt the way he stretched me, rolling my hips a few times to get used to his size, and I pulled his head to my breasts, wanting him to touch me everywhere he could. He sucked and bit my nipples, squeezing my ass as I kept rolling my hips. He pushed and helped me move faster, so I started to really ride him.

At first, I was moving slowly, just coming up and down to enjoy the feeling of being so full with his cock, feeling how wet I was as he slid in easily. His hands were abusing my tits, squeezing hard as he used his tongue on my nipples.

I kept going until I was almost passing out from exhaustion. It was really late, and we weren’t holding back our sounds, so maybe the neighbors could hear us. My whole body was sweating, and so was he, but his smell was so good... Even being that tired, I was turned on by it. I kept putting my face in the curve of his neck so I could taste him as well.

His hands were all over me, grabbing and squeezing everything he touched. I brushed his hair out of his face so I could kiss him again, while rolling my hips against him, trying to breathe so I could start the fast rhythm again.

“Let me be on top now.”

Chris helped me get up and waited until I was laid on the couch. I gotta say, that was a huge relief for me - I needed some ‘rest’.

He knelt between my legs and adjusted himself so he could rub his cock on my clit, teasing me and smiling at me in a way that drove me insane. I was soaked and sensitive, so I just used my hand to put him inside me again. I couldn't stand to wait any longer. Yeah, he really got me impatient.

He was thrusting slowly, I folded my legs and spread them wide so I could touch my clit, and he watched closely the way my fingers were working on my own pleasure while he fucked me. It was pretty fast for me to start to feel my core getting hotter and hotter as my orgasm approached.

Chris grabbed my thighs and spread me open wider, keeping the rhythm slow but thrusting really hard. He whispered all kinds of dirty things that made my whole body tremble when I came on his cock. My eyes rolled back in pleasure as he kept doing exactly what he was doing until I stopped touching myself. My legs felt heavy and practically powerless, he made me all weak.

“You get even tighter when you come, baby… so fuckin good.”

It took me a few minutes to start breathing normally again, and he was still going slow inside me. I thought maybe he was being sweet about my sensitivity, but I still thought it would be funny to tease him a bit more.

“Feeling sorry for me? Just fuck me hard, Chris.”

His first reaction was to burst out laughing, then he pulled my legs up, put my calves on his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. Just that move made me feel him so much deeper, giving me a preview of what was about to come. When he leaned forward a bit, I had the pleasure of seeing him suck in air through his teeth and close his eyes, twisting his face in pleasure. I could feel how tight I was with the new angle, and I knew I was going to be sore after that.

Chris fucked me so hard that my entire body moved on the couch in each thrust. My breasts bounced in the rhythm of his thrusts, too... and our moans were cut off each time his body slammed into mine. The sound of his thighs slapping against my ass was really loud, and he was so deep that it left me breathless, and felt so fuckin good that I could come again if I wasn’t already dying because of the sensitivity.

He kept up that insane rhythm for several minutes, it was so good... I was just trying to hold onto the couch so I wouldn’t slide around too much, his cock hitting all the right spots deep inside me, places I could never reach on my own.

“Gonna cum…” His voice revealed his exhaustion, and I thought that so hot that I couldn’t even explain. “Where do you want it, huh?”

“Fill me up, Chris...”

“Fuuuuck…”

He grabbed my legs even tighter, and I leaned up a bit, raising my body to watch everything he was doing to me. The look on his face when he came would stay in my mind longer than any photos or anything we did today. His abs contracting, the sweat, everything was so erotic, so hot, so perfect. I was lost and couldn’t take my eyes off him.

He slowed down until stopped thrusting, and I felt his warm liquid inside me, not wanting him to pull out. Chris folded my legs a bit more, bringing my knees close to my chest and making me lie back down as his cock slipped out.

“I never thought I’d see this.” His eyes were fixed between my legs, just like mine had been on his face seconds ago.

“See what?”

“You, all fucked up and dripping my cum like that. I can't believe we did this.”

“Me neither...” I used one hand to touch myself, feeling my sensitive spots and using his fluids to slide my fingers around, really enjoying the sensation. “But I’m glad we did.”

The way he smiled made me want to do it all over again, and if it were possible, I really would.

“I guess I can be promoted to ‘fuck buddy.’”

“Maybe, but we need to talk about it later.”

“Wanna take a shower and sleep here?”

“Do you think that's a good idea? I mean...”

I was genuinely worried about the intimacy. We didn’t have feelings for each other, and that was clear. I was terrified of making things confusing.

“I think it’s a great idea because I can do even better tomorrow morning, in my bed.”

“If you put it that way... then I’ll stay.”

[trickstarbrave]

omegaverse 2.... PART 2

continuation from part 1 here

this part is mostly angst. the next one will also have a lot of angst, but dw, nerevar gets brought back and voryn dotes on him again.

why is this fic so fucking long.

--

His heat is unbearable now. Something was very clearly wrong with him, his body burning like fire and desperate. He’s covered in sweat, panting, and miserable. 

“Don’t worry, we’re almost there.” Voryn reassured him, a hand running through the sweaty locks of Nerevar’s messy hair. “I can see Kogoruhn out the window, we’re almost home.” The words were supposed to be reassuring, but they honestly just made Nerevar feel worse. 

“I’ll make a nest for you in my bed.” Voryn explained, his voice soft and tender. “Pile it up with pillows and blankets, and I’ll take good care of you.” Nerevar knew Voryn was ignorant now rather than just lying to him. His rut must have completely clouded his senses.

Perhaps they were too young to try this stunt. They were young adults, yes, but far too emotionally immature to handle spending a heat and rut together. Voryn was getting far too possessive, doting, and sentimental. And Nerevar…

Nerevar was getting selfish. Far too selfish for his own good, wishing this would never end. He wanted to toss the potions aside, crawl into Voryn’s bed, present his neck, and mate with Voryn in earnest. He wanted it so badly it was hurting, his body protesting the fact it couldn’t happen.

True to his word, they arrived at Kogoruhn quickly, the loud droning of voices outside the cart as the other carts were unloaded of their supplies. Voryn gathered their things, before wrapping an arm protectively around Nerevar, bringing him inside. Nerevar knew the other canvasari ran ahead to tell Voryn’s brothers or even his mother--they wouldn’t pass up the opportunity. But even if they didn’t, the servants were muttering as they walked through the winding halls to Voryn’s room. 

Nerevar couldn’t blame them. He was, after all, wearing their heir’s clothes, covered in his pheromones, and very obviously in heat as Voryn guided him to his room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they had been up to. The more they walked, it seemed the more the stronghold was descending into chaos, people muttering and speaking, moving quickly out of their way. 

Finally, in Voryn’s room, Voryn quickly began arranging the pillows and blankets to something comfortable, before guiding Nerevar to the bed. 

“There, much better, isn’t it?” Nerevar wanted to think so. Certainly it smelled much more strongly of Voryn, wrapping him in the spicy, musky scent of the other, not to mention it was much more comfortable than the cramped cart he was stuck in for half his heat. But Nerevar couldn’t shake the anxiety. He knew it was going to turn sour any moment. 

“I should… Really be in my room.” Nerevar didn’t want to leave the comfort of Voryn’s bed, obviously distressed and unable to even bother masking the pheromones, but he knew it would be better if he was hidden away in his room. Then the others wouldn’t know how serious Voryn was, or how clouded his senses were. They would just think this was a moment of weakness and nothing more, hoping to cover the event up and pretend like it never happened. 

“Shh…” Voryn hushed him, climbing in to join Nerevar after discarding his outer robes. “If you need anything from your room, I’ll get it or have a servant bring it here.” Voryn was scenting him all over again, gently stroking his hands along Nerevar’s body and nuzzling into his hair. 

“That’s not what I--” Nerevar was cut off however by a loud banging on Voryn’s door. Voryn growled possessively, his arms tightening. 

“Voryn Dagoth, get out here.” It was Gilvoth, no doubt seeing red hearing about the situation. 

“Leave.” Voryn hissed, not letting go of Nerevar in the slightest. 

“You either come out here or I drag you out myself.” The threat was serious, and all of them knew it. He could tell from how tense Voryn was though that he didn’t want to. 

“Go.” Nerevar coaxed him, earning another growl, before Nerevar continued. “It’ll be alright.”

Voryn looked at him confused, and maybe a bit hurt, before his gaze softened and he nuzzled against him once more. 

“I’ll be back.” Voryn promised, before reluctantly pulling away. “I’ll be back, so wait right here.” 

As he stepped outside, shouting followed, Gilvoth throwing accusations left and right. 

“You mated with your stupid s’wit guard?!” He was trying to keep his voice hushed so the whole damn stronghold didn’t hear him, but he was failing at it. 

“I haven’t mated with Nerevar yet.” Voryn defended himself. “I wasn’t going to claim him in the back of a cart. I’m going to do it properly--”

“‘Properly’?! There is nothing fucking proper about taking a fucking canvasari as your mate!” Gilvoth shouted in return. “Are you so fucking dense that you think you can take whoever you want as your mate?”

“He’s mine.” Voryn stressed, teeth grit as far as Nerevar could hear. “Nerevar is going to be my mate.”

“Vemyn, grab him.” Aranays suddenly called, and Nerevar could hear shouting and spells being flung as it quickly devolved into chaos in the hall. He curled in on himself further on the bed, anxiety swirling in his stomach. He knew he should run out the moment it subsided, fleeing to his own room, but he felt paralyzed to leave. 

It finally got quieter and quieter as the others dragged their youngest brother off. Nerevar hoped they managed to talk some sense into him and snapped him out of whatever haze had overtaken his senses. But being left alone, even in Voryn’s bedroom, wasn’t helping him. The room felt cold, and his body felt blazing hot. All he could do was squirm on the soft, silken sheets, hissing and whining. 

He wanted the sensation to stop more than anything. Something was wrong. Terribly wrong. Something was wrong with his body in a way he rarely felt before. He only got the sensation when he was terribly injured or gravely ill, a creeping sense of dread coming over him for no reason. But nothing was wrong as far as he could tell--he shouldn’t feel this way just being separated from Voryn! There was no need for him to feel this way, but like before, he couldn’t use logic to convince his body to stop. 

After a few moments, two healers came in, one Nerevar recognized as the chief healer, and both bonded omegas along with two guards. The guards stayed outside the room, thankfully, but Nerevar didn’t really like even the healers looking at him. 

“Sit up,” the chief healer Llevena instructed him. “We need to look you over.” He knew what she was referring to as she motioned towards his neck. He growled on instinct, however weakly, as the other healer gingerly pulled his hair aside so she could inspect his neck and throat. 

They weren’t alphas looking at him, but he wanted to vomit. He wanted to cry and scream and cover his neck in protest, his body trembling. He’d never felt more exposed than in that moment, the room quickly reeking of distressed pheromones at the offense, his body pleading for it to stop. After confirming there was no bite present, she motioned towards his trousers. 

“Your thighs next.” Nerevar was shaking even more as he was undressed, tears actually rolling down his cheeks, unable to stop them. Claiming bites were, although uncommon, possible to leave on thighs after all as that was where the other prominent scent glands were with thin enough skin to claim reliably. But just like his neck, there was no bite mark present, though his body grew more and more distressed. 

It was like a cruel humiliation, even though Nerevar knew it shouldn’t be. She was just following orders to ensure Nerevar wasn’t claimed yet as Voryn said. But his body took offense to it, wanting to curl up and cry and beg for Voryn in earnest. He refused to beg for Voryn though, however much he wanted to; he knew Voryn wasn’t coming, and it would only make him look worse. 

Thankfully, they left after that, letting him cover himself back up. He even pulled a blanket over himself, trying desperately to cover up. He didn’t want anyone else to see him. He didn’t want to be looked at by anyone else but Voryn. But the foreign feelings only made him more distressed as he couldn’t make sense of them. 

Nerevar didn’t know how much time passed after that. Maybe it was minutes, maybe it was hours. All he knew was his heart was still racing, pounding in his chest, and he felt hot and sick. All he wanted was Voryn, but he knew until the rest of House Dagoth figured this out and could subdue him, he wasn’t going to get to see Voryn. He knew he should leave the room still, but the idea of leaving the warm, comforting scent was even more nightmarish than the hell he was currently in. 

But eventually, another servant entered, two guards filing into the room as well. Nerevar growled at them, curling up more, before this healer urged him to sit up. Then, she plopped a bag into his hands, filled with small potion vials, a silvery liquid inside them. 

“They’re suppressants.” She explained, keeping her voice level. “They should be more than enough for the rest of your heat.” There was, as Nerevar could count, enough for the full week and then some, even though he was already halfway through with it already. “Take them, grab what you can carry, and leave Kogoruhn.” Nerevar’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “You are not to return, is that understood?” 

Half of Nerevar felt numb, paralyzed as he stared at the vial in his hand. The other half was screaming at him not to--screaming at him to refuse and instead curl up, continuing to wait for Voryn. But Nerevar knew Voryn wasn’t coming back; House Dagoth got the confirmation that Nerevar hadn’t mated with Voryn, but no doubt Voryn was still fighting them tooth and nail, trying desperately to return so he could claim Nerevar properly. 

Their solution now was exile. A small kindness because he hadn’t crossed the line yet, they were allowing him to leave with his life. 

The fact that almost every fiber of his being was screaming out to stay, to wait for Voryn, to have Voryn back at his side and protecting him, was only confirmation to Nerevar that something was horribly wrong with him. It was frowned upon but normal to spend a heat or rut with someone and then going your separate ways. No one else felt like this--whatever the hell this feeling was. For fucks sake, his cycle was normally fairly regularly, but he went into heat a whole two months early, and now both he and Voryn were acting completely out of character and nonsensically. 

Besides, he wasn’t really given a choice. This wasn’t an option, but an order. House Dagoth had ordered his exile. He could take the suppressants and leave with his life, or could die here. And Nerevar knew, deep down, how much that would hurt Voryn. When the dust settled and Nerevar was dead and gone, his family members injured from his outbursts, and half the stronghold ruined, he was going to be devastated. Nerevar knew it, in the pit of his stomach, how much it would ruin Voryn. 

He uncapped the vial, downing the potion. He was bitter, making him gag, but he forced it down. They were strong suppressants, quickly working to force the sluggish feeling and uncomfortable heat in his body down as he grabbed his travel back from nearby, going to his room to collect a few more things, escorted by guards the whole while. He tried hard not to think about the situation in detail, leaning into the numb feeling coursing through him. But Nerevar was at least quick as he grabbed several changes of clothes, stuffing a second bag full of whatever he thought he might need. He wasn’t worried necessarily of being dragged out there, though he knew the threat was there. Moreso, he was worried about Voryn breaking out from whoever was holding him and his resolve crumbling. 

Finally outside, the longing persisted, but Nerevar tried to ignore it. He didn’t dare look back at the stronghold. He wasn’t strong enough to do so. All he needed to do was focus on getting out of the settlement, to the next nearest town, and scrubbing Voryn’s scent off him. With the suppressants he wouldn’t need an alpha’s scent masking his own, after all.

--

“I believe we know what’s wrong.” Llevenna announced after careful deliberation. Morvani was eager to hear it, eyes sharp as she silently demanded an answer. 

It had been a shitshow the moment Voryn had arrived back. What was supposed to be a routine sale of dwemer items to House Hlaalu down south had resulted in something disastrous the moment her heir had arrived, his s’wit guard in his arms, in a full rut. 

The story was: Nerevar went into heat suddenly while traveling, and Voryn offered to spend it with him to help ease the struggle. A stupid decision, in Morvani’s opinion, given her son’s typically out of character aggression in a rut no one could seem to explain. But the other canvasari observed that Voryn was rather calm despite his usual behavior at home, almost docile, as he quietly tended to his guard. He even went out of his own violation to pick up supplies for them like food, additional blankets, and birth control--unhappily, yes, but without trying to attack someone over it. Her initial thought was that Voryn’s behavior then must have been an intense desire for a mate for some unknown reason, but that didn’t explain the other factors.

Namely, Nerevar and Voryn were giving off the same pheromones as a mated pair. Anyone could smell it on them, unmistakingly. The scent of an alpha protecting their bonded mate, and an omega desperately calling for their alpha to tend to them and protect them were impossible to fake. It wasn’t a mystery that everyone reacted poorly, assuming Voryn had made the stupid, impulsive decision to take his commoner guard as a mate without so much as discussing it with his family beforehand, or even properly courting him. 

But Llevena searched him thoroughly and there was no claiming bite whatsoever. Not on his neck, throat, thighs, not even on his wrists which were difficult to mark properly in the first place. He was, by all accounts, unclaimed. The healers desperately looked for reasons why, all the while Voryn’s brother’s restrained him. Not even suppressants seemed to calm his rage though, as once the pheromones signaling he was in rut died down he was still fighting them, desperately seeking Nerevar out. 

“There is… Only one real conclusion. The symptoms and behaviors only match up with one such case.” The three best healers in House Dagoth had been working tirelessly for answers, feeding Voryn cure disease potions, casting spells, and everything to try to calm him down. Calm spells worked, but only for so long, mostly resulting in her youngest son breaking down crying once the rage subsided before he went on the offensive again. 

“Out with it.” Morvani stressed, and Llevena closed her eyes anxiously. 

“They… Are most likely a fated pair.” 

“... You must be joking with me.” Morvani wasn’t angry, mostly staring in disbelief, feeling like all of the wind had been knocked out of her. “Wouldn’t the signs have been present before now?”

“T-typically yes, however,” Llevenna continued, “There has never been a recorded case of a fated pair meeting prior to present. They are exceedingly rare, and all recorded cases are of pairs that met after presentation.” That was true; finding a fated mate prior to presenting was unheard of. A scent that was supposed to trigger the intense draw being given in small doses since you were young might result in symptoms less noticeable, until of course, the intensity of pheromones from a heat or rut made them all the more apparent. 

“Apparently Nerevar’s shirt was ruined during a cliff racer attack. Voryn gave him one of his undershirts to wear to keep the sun off him, and that evening Nerevar went into heat two months early.” Llevena was still shuffling papers around on the table, anxiously. “We believe being exposed to his fated partner’s scent so intensely long term must have triggered an early heat, and the draw began once Voryn found him in his tent.”

“... Shit.” Morvani swore under her breath. 

Fated mates were a blessing and a curse in that way. While mortals had their own methods of selecting mates, the gods can and will override those rules. While they were a blessing in that they were intense, god gifted connections that resulted in long, healthy bonds if encouraged with strong children, they could also be intensely problematic. Sometimes fated mates were between warring houses or families who desperately tried to keep the two apart, or in this case, were from two very different social standings. 

Though, Morvani supposed, she was lucky. Nerevar received an education, due to how enthusiastic Voryn was. She thought it would be bad to deny him a decent friendship with someone his own age given his brothers were a lot older than him in many cases, and she thought Nerevar would be good for him to develop into a proper leader of House Dagoth. Nerevar was, all things considered, a clever and precocious child, already knowledgeable about differences in class and how to manipulate others or see their weak points. He was also, despite from a lesser house and humble origins, not from a house or clan they had any bad blood with, nor did they have to worry about recklessly “stealing” him away from his family as they forced out the traditional, lengthy courting rituals for their own social benefit at the detriment of their children. For all outsiders might mutter about Nerevar’s mixed heritage and original status as commoner, they all knew how sacred and important fated mates were, and wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. 

“We can work with this.” Morvani rubbed her temple. It would be annoying to inform the council of, but they wouldn’t be able to fight it either. Keeping two fated mates apart was, after all, a stupid decision as well. No one had successfully resisted the draw, and attempts to separate a fated pair only resulted in deteriorating health for the both of them. They could even rush the typical courting rituals and just have Voryn claim him so this fighting and arguing could be over and done with. Then they’d move on to official announcements, instead throwing a celebration that her heir had found a fated mate of all things, and how this would be beneficial for the rest of House Dagoth. 

Morvani then made her way down the hall where all of her sons were. Gilvoth had a black eye, Vemyn had some burn marks that were healed, Anarays a few bite marks… But Voryn was currently paralyzed as they all caught their breaths, waiting for the spell to wear off and for their youngest brother to lash out again.

“Enough,” Morvani announced, and they all looked at her, confused. “He’s free to go when the spell wears off.” 

“But Mother,” Anarays explained, “He’s going to return to Nerevar--”

“Let him.” Morvani sighed, once again rubbing her temple in an effort to soothe the migraine that was coming on from all of this. “The head healers believe it would be for the best.”

“And let him mate with that s’wit?” Vemyn protested, “Absolutely not--severing the bond will make it even worse on Voryn.” He had a point; under normal circumstances severing a mated connection was anywhere from uncomfortable to a miserable experience. But this was not normal circumstances.

“They’re fated mates.” Morvani explained. “Keeping them from mating will do more harm than good.” 

“Fated--?!” Gilvoth looked beside himself. “They are not fated mates! We would have known before this--”

“Nerevar and Voryn met before presenting, so it’s likely the symptoms weren’t as noticeable until now.” Morvani explained, repeating what she heard from the healers. “It does, however, explain Voryn’s out of character aggression during his ruts we haven’t been able to explain until now, as well as the fact they were both giving off pheromones of a mated pair despite Nerevar having no claiming bite on him.” 

Her sons were quiet at that, unable to argue. In the corner though, Morvani spotted Uthol looking away as though ashamed, his fists clenched.

“Speak up, Uthol.” Morvani ordered. She knew that look: it was the same one he had as a child when he had been up to no good. 

“... I heard Llevenna explain that Nerevar had no claiming bite on him.” Uthol explained. “So I… Ordered my personal healer and some guards to bring him suppressants and escort him out of Kogoruhn.”

“What…?” Morvani’s brow furrowed in rage. “Didn’t I explicitly say I wanted no one coming and going until we figured out what was going on?!” She couldn’t help but raise her voice. “Why did you deliberately ignore me?!”

“It was before I heard you give that order--” Uthol continued, his voice trembling slightly. “I was--I was afraid for Voryn, Mother.” He was always a coward like this, shaking when confronted by someone of much higher standing. It was why he wasn’t a suitable heir. He preferred licking boots and acting on someone else’s orders or manipulating things behind the scenes exclusively. “If Voryn broke out and bonded with him--without us knowing they were fated partners--the punishment would be death.” His hands were trembling too, still afraid to meet her gaze. “And if we had to kill Nerevar, that would have hurt Voryn.”

His reasoning checked out. She knew he must have personal motivation too, but she could worry about getting that confession out of him and punishing him accordingly. Instead, she turned to the guards. 

“How long ago did he leave?” She demanded, and just like Uthol, they were trembling.

“S-several hours ago, my Lady.” They explained. “He grabbed his belongings and left without protest.” Morvani found that difficult to believe. The draw was supposedly undeniable, and leaving would no doubt be killing him. Then again, Nerevar was stubborn and headstrong, not to mention under a lot of stress given the situation. Depending on how it was presented to him, he likely fled thinking it was an order from the council or her directly, not just Uthol throwing his weight around. 

“He couldn’t have gotten far.” Morvani stressed. “Search for him and bring him back immediately.”

--

Nerevar had stopped in the town a distance away from Kogoruhn, though not for long. He needed to get out of the territory quickly, after all. It was tempting to stay in an inn for the rest of his heat, but the town had only one inn, and it was so cramped you were almost always obligated to share a room with strangers. Under normal circumstances he’d take it, but not when he was this miserable. Instead, he simply picked up supplies, scrubbed himself down in the bathing house, changed his clothes, and continued on. Making camp far away from any towns would likely be the best way to survive the rest of his heat. After all, anyone else so much as looking at him made him miserable. 

They did have a guar for sale, which he took. Perhaps it was a bad decision; he had limited funds right now, after all, but two hours after he left Kogoruhn he ended up vomiting, so Nerevar thought it was a good investment. It would get him further away even faster, after all, no matter how weak he felt. Getting out of House Dagoth territory before nightfall was a good goal to have. He never did get payment for the last caravan trip he was just on, but then again, he didn’t really finish the job, instead spending the last three days seducing the heir he was supposed to protect and accidentally infecting him with… Whatever the hell he had.

The guar had a lot of energy in stark contrast to how weak Nerevar felt. The beast ran well past dusk, getting them safely into House Redoran territory before slowing down. Nerevar made camp on back roads no one really took, close enough to them that he wouldn’t get lost, but far enough out of the way that he was less likely to encounter anyone. 

He should really eat. He was well aware that it would be for the best. Normally when in heat he was ravenously hungry, and being in heat consumed a lot of energy. But he found himself too nauseous to really attempt it. He nibbled on saltrice crackers, but that was about all he could stomach. Mostly he just curled up in his tent, half wishing he was just dead already.

After a few more days, the worst of it passed, though the longing was still present. He packed up his tent and continued on with the guar, though he was still as miserable as ever. Often the nagging feeling he should turn around and rush back to Kogoruhn, but he knew he couldn’t. They were nice enough to let him leave with his life, and returning from exile would mean certain death. 

The big issue though would be where he should stay. He didn’t want to be a vagrant; he’d need somewhere stable to spend a heat, as well as stability and time to see multiple healers, maybe even look for work again. He debated joining a great house, but under normal circumstances it could be a hassle to find one looking for outsiders. And they would be less likely to accept him in when they found out he was exiled by House Dagoth despite them being kind enough to house him with his status as an outsider. 

It was then that Nerevar remembered his uncle, Nelvon, had sent him a letter a little over a year ago. The letter was short and simple, not particularly hostile despite how much his uncle disliked him when they last met, asking if Nerevar was alright and saying he could visit Nelvon if he was ever in the area. Perhaps it was just unnecessary pleasantries, but Nerevar had few other options. His gold supply wouldn’t keep him housed in inns forever, and he needed time to see a healer and recover from whatever disease was plaguing him. 

Near Ebonheart, after he followed the coast down, a merchant’s cart was stopped. One of his guars had been attacked and died, and he needed two to pull the cart. 

“Are you certain you want to sell me it?” The man asked, brow raised. 

“I’m headed to the mainland. I won’t need it.” It had been a nice traveling companion, all things considered. “Besides, it has a lot of energy. I’m sure it would be happier pulling carts all day than sitting around a pen somewhere or being eaten out in the wild.” Domesticated guar rarely did well in the wilds, after all. 

“... Alright then.” The merchant looked at his own canvasari. “Get it strapped in.” He then handed Nerevar a nice pouch of gold; more than he paid for the guar originally, so it was nice to get his money back and then some, not to mention he wouldn’t have any lingering guilt of leaving the poor thing to die out in the wild. “If you come knocking I won’t return the guar, understand me?”

“Understood.” With that, Nerevar turned and continued down the road on foot, hoping to catch a boat going out of Ebonheart to Mournhold.

--

“Nerevar?” Nelvon asked, staring in disbelief. “I didn’t expect you to drop by without saying anything.”

“I would have written, but I didn’t have time.” He didn’t even know where he was going when he was kicked out, after all, only figuring it out after days on the road. “Is it possible for me to stay here for some time?”

“... Is everything alright?” Nelvon was still looking him over, quietly taking in his appearance. Nerevar knew he looked like shit. He hadn’t been eating or sleeping well, he’d been living on the road, and more importantly he felt miserable. 

“... I was exiled from House Dagoth.”

“Exiled?!” Nelvon looked baffled, before quickly lowering his voice and ushering Nerevar inside his small home. “What on Nirn could you have done to be worthy of exile?”

“... I went into heat on our way back with a caravan.” Nerevar explained. He didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew hiding the truth wouldn’t help his case. Already his uncle wasn’t fond of him when they parted ways as a child, and he didn’t want to push his luck by lying about the situation. “Voryn offered to spend it with me and… There was a very strange reaction of some kind.” Nerevar sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow. It was hot and muggy in Tear, and he was already missing the cooler weather of Northern Vvardenfell. The month and a half long trip had been a miserable experience, and the weather wasn’t doing him any favors. “I think I caught something and gave it to him. I didn’t have any intention of seducing him, but Voryn was… Eager to try and claim me, so they gave me suppressants, told me to grab what I could carry, and leave.”

Again, he never dreamed of trying to seduce Voryn. He never intended for things to get so out of hand. If he’d known how bad it would have been for both of them, Nerevar would have declined, instead suffering alone throwing up, getting harassed by the other canvasari, and waiting until they reached a town so he could buy suppressants. Even being assaulted and claimed by an alpha he didn’t like but of his own station could have been reversed, after all, and he would have at least been allowed to stay in Kogoruhn while the bastard stood trial for claiming an omega without their consent. But instead he had to want to take the easy way out and let it blow up in his face. 

He’d hoped Voryn was doing alright. Once his rut was over he’d likely calm down, and House Dagoth had good healers who could figure out what was wrong with him and treat it accordingly. He was probably already doing much better by now, embarrassed by the whole affair, and more than a little sad their friendship was cut so short by such abnormal circumstances. But Voryn was still heir of House Dagoth and took that role very seriously; he’d get over Nerevar, in time. Certain things came before friendship, after all, and when logic returned to Voryn he’d be thankful they never fully crossed the line. 

Nelvon was quiet hearing that, and Nerevar refused to put his bag down. Honestly, he came here with nowhere else to go, but he wouldn’t blame Nelvon for throwing him back out. 

“... I never expected the young lord to try such a thing, but…” He sighed, covering his face slightly, “That is something that would get you exiled.” 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” Nerevar tried to explain, ready to defend himself. To him Voryn was just a friend, after all. The person he trusted the most, yes, but not someone he had any ambition to keep all to himself. “I--”

“I know.” Nelvon cut him off. “You wouldn’t have tried to do something so reckless, especially knowing the consequences.” Nerevar was relieved hearing that, thankful his uncle wasn’t jumping to blaming him. “You can stay here however long you need to.” Nelvon still gave him a soft smile, trying to be encouraging. 

“... Thank you.” Nerevar was still relieved. He had a place to stay, at least for the time being. “I’ll try to find a place of my own soon.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’re still young.” Nelvon motion to a door in the small home. “There’s a spare room you can use. Take as much time as you need.”

--

His next heat had been all the more unbearable. Nerevar tried suppressants again, knowing they were less effective the more cycles in a row you took them, but it was still ridiculous. 

He could barely keep food down. He could barely leave the room. Before, he wondered how he’d get by in his heat having to go back to masturbating, but he didn’t even want to touch himself when it heat anymore. All he could do is curl up, shaking, crying in the bed silently, and praying for it to be over. It felt like his body was rejecting itself, trying to set itself on fire, his thoughts a mess and the intense urge to run back to Kogoruhn overtook him again. 

He long since sold all of his old clothes. Fabric was precious, yes, but he couldn’t risk any clothes that had Voryn’s scent on them, however faint. He often found himself curling up with them outside of his heat, whimpering miserably in a way that made him feel so much worse. He never felt so fucking pathetic as he did now, like nothing more than a simpering, whiny mess. Nerevar was thankful he had sold them though, as he was certain he would have tried running if he caught Voryn’s scent anywhere near him in heat, fleeing into the wilderness in an effort to get back to Kogoruhn which was miles and miles away. 

He’d been seeing various healers, though none of them had any luck diagnosing him with anything. Most told him it sounded like he was just a lovesick fool, or even that it was his own fault for daring to lie with an alpha of higher standing and “omegas need to be more cautious for this reason”. 

“I believe,” The healer he was currently seeing said, after he came back post heat to tell her his symptoms were worsening, “This sounds quite a bit like an omega trying to reject a fated mate.”

“What?” Nerevar looked at her in disbelief.

“After a fated mate has been encountered, if someone tries to fight the draw, a lot of the symptoms are quite similar to what you’re experiencing.” She continued, moving her notes around to find the two lists of symptoms side by side. “Poor appetite, inability to eat in a heat, hot flashes, an intense sense of longing, mood swings…” Nerevar grit his teeth. “It’s quite obvious when you look at it like--”

“He is not my fated partner.” Nerevar stressed, offended at even the idea. “We knew each other for years prior to this.” Fated mates didn’t just change overnight. It was a connection you were born with or not. If they were a fated pair, they would have known years ago when they met, or at the very least when they both presented. 

“That’s the only thing out of the ordinary, but the rest of your symptoms suggest otherwise.” She added. “If you could tell me more about your alpha’s symptoms we could confirm it--”

“He is not my alpha!” Nerevar snapped, annoyed. Even as a slip of the tongue, calling Voryn his alpha was unacceptable to Nerevar. 

They weren’t mates. They weren’t even would-be mates or potential mates. They weren’t fated partners or anything of the sort. They were former friends--very short term lovers at most, but that was a mistake they should have never indulged in in the first place. 

“There’s temporary treatment for it, but it’s expensive. I think you really should return to him, it will ease your symptoms--” Nerevar put the gold he owed her on the table, getting up annoyed. “Sera--”

“I’m not seeing him again.” Nerevar spat, heading to the door. “I’ll see a different healer.” With that he left, not caring if she was calling for him. 

Nerevar hated this fucking city. A major hub for House Dres, their capital city, and he couldn’t find a decent fucking healer. All they did was dismiss him as an over emotional omega who was sad about being dumped, or this one who seemed to take him seriously and then spouted nonsense. Fated mates? What netchshit. Clearly she was too busy reading shitty romance novels to be of any help as a healer. 

He walked back to Nelvon’s house, still irritated. A month since his last heat and it still wasn’t clearing up. He was still waking up in the middle of the night to run to the bathhouse, scrubbing every inch of his body thinking he could smell Voryn faintly on his skin. He still had a poor appetite. He was still so fucking miserable, not even wanting to train with his sword most days, instead just wanting to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling until the numbness in his body made the day pass by and he could go right back to sleep. 

“Nerevar,” Nelvon greeted him as he entered, and it took everything in Nerevar not to snap at him. He didn’t want to seem ungrateful, after all, but it felt like he was going insane. “I received a letter from House Dagoth.”

“What?” Nerevar’s brows furrowed, as Nelvon handed him the parchment, though reading it only made his blood run cold. 

House Dagoth was looking for him, even going so far as to ask his uncle if he had seen Nerevar, saying Nelvon was under an obligation to hand him over, and that if he didn’t reply within a specific timeframe they would come and search his home themselves. 

Shit. Gods fucking dammit. 

He thought that since they hadn’t mated it would be over and done with. Nerevar had been exiled. He didn’t even bother protesting, just taking what few belongings he could carry and leaving as instructed. Was that still not enough?

Voryn must still be looking for him, desperately trying to see him again in a foolish attempt to claim him. And, knowing that, they wanted to beat him to the punch and execute Nerevar before he had a chance to cross that line. 

“Tell them I was here, but that I left a few days before you got the letter.” Nerevar explained quickly, opening all of the windows in the house to air it out. It wouldn’t be enough to remove Nerevar’s scent entirely, but it would be enough to make the story convincing. “Tell them you don’t know where I went.” 

“Are you really leaving?” Nelvon followed him as he opened all the windows, before hurrying to the spare room to pack up his belongings. “Nerevar?”

“They want me dead.” Nerevar explained simply. “If I stay here, they’ll drag me away to kill me.” He knew that was the case; it was the only logical reason they would bother looking for him when he already took the exile and hadn’t so much as bothered to set one foot even near their territory. “They aren’t just going to believe you if you say I wasn’t here or I already left. They’ll come here to check and want you dead for lying.” 

House Dres and House Dagoth had bad standing, so he doubted they would be able to drag Nelvon off and kill him, but they could protest it to House Dres, and order his torture or punishment. He knew House Dres wouldn’t defend Nerevar of all people, and several members of the Ra’athim clan would get mad that Nelvon protected a half-nord chimer of all things, especially one House Dagoth marked for death.

“They can’t just kill you like this--” He protested, infuriated. “You’ve done nothing wrong to deserve this, you already left--”

“Voryn is probably still looking for me.” Nerevar knew if Voryn had it so much as half as bad as Nerevar, he would still be miserable, after all. “And they want to eliminate any risk of him finding me. Easy way to do that would be to just kill me.” 

“That’s completely unfair--”

“The world isn’t fair.” It was a core teaching of the Good Three, after all. “What’s one outsider’s life to securing their heir’s future?” Nerevar, having finally shoved all his belongings back into his two travel bags, put them on his back. “But I’m not going to let them kill me. I have no intention of dying, and I know it’ll only hurt Voryn in the long run.” They thought they were doing the right thing, that Nerevar couldn’t deny. If he was in their position he might do something similar, given how nonsensical the whole situation was. To them it probably only made sense to kill him--Voryn was acting ridiculously out of character, pained with longing for a stupid omega he wasn’t allowed to have. They didn’t know deep down how much it would devastate Voryn to lose Nerevar like Nerevar knew. 

“Where are you even going to go?” Nelvon was distressed, and Nerevar found it oddly… Touching. He thought Nelvon would jump at the chance to have Nerevar out, all things considered, especially if it put him in any risk to keep him there. 

“I don’t know.” Nerevar replied honestly. “But I’ll just be putting you at risk staying here.” 

“You need to think this through--”

“I’ll probably leave Resdayn.” Nerevar admitted. “They’re going to be hunting me down, and I doubt they’ll stop here just because I wasn’t with you. But,” Nerevar at least pulled Nelvon into a light hug, surprised again with Nelvon clung to him tightly in return. “... Thank you for letting me stay here.”

“Please stay safe, Nerevar.” Nelvon stressed. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“... I will.” Nerevar replied, enjoying the embrace for a moment. “I’ll stay safe, Uncle.”

--

Just as Nerevar predicted, it wasn’t long until House Dagoth came knocking on his door. 

Nelvon just hadn’t really expected Voryn Dagoth of all people to be leading them. Had he intercepted the letter and thought to come first? 

“He isn’t here, young lord--” Nelvon tried to explain, but Voryn pushed his way inside without really asking, inhaling the scent of his home. “Young lord this is--”

“... He did leave roughly a week ago.” Voryn said quietly, walking almost as though in a trance to the spare room. Nelvon followed, still antsy. Airing out his home for a few days had done the trick, as Nerevar said it would, but it was still distressing to know he couldn’t protect Nerevar even if he had wanted to. 

Nelvon had thought leaving him in House Dagoth’s care would have been better for him. He’d receive an education and have a friend he adored at his side. Nelvon wasn’t in the right state of mind to take care of him anyways--he couldn’t give Nerevar the love and support he deserved. Only after more years passed and Nerevar’s absence in his life wore him down did he genuinely miss him. His nephew was his only family he had left after his parents died--the only thing from his sister he had left. 

Voryn looked haggard as he walked, dark circles under his eyes, robes sloppily done. But he continued walking to the spare room as though he knew that was where Nerevar was. 

Upon entering, Voryn’s shoulders slumped, and he collapsed onto his knees in front of the bed, burying his face in the neatly made bed. 

“... Neht,” Voryn whispered softly and affectionately, though with also a deep, pained longing in his voice. 

He could smell Nerevar on the blankets, so close and yet so far. He could smell his mate--his omega--on the fabric so clearly. Nerevar’s old sheets had begun to lose his scent, driving Voryn up a wall, but he was here. If Voryn had just been a bit faster, he might have been able to hold Nerevar in his arms.

Voryn could still make out all the pheromones on the fabric too; his mate had gone through a heat alone, begging for him. He could pick up on the distress with ease, and if it was anything like Voryn’s past rut, he must have been miserable. 

Voryn should have had him. He should have come here in a rut when he realized Nelvon might know where Nerevar was. If he had just fought off his brothers and hopped in that propylon chamber, he could have been there within a day, holding Nerevar gently and comforting him, scenting him and whispering that it was alright now. But instead his damn brothers held him back, saying the house could send a letter to Nelvon instead, and that Voryn was in no condition to be tearing his way through Tear looking for Nerevar who may or may not be there. 

Voryn took the top blanket, gently folding it, still feeling hollow that his search had turned up empty. 

“Thank you.” He said simply. He didn’t ask for the blanket, but he would thank Nelvon for his time, at least.

“Why are you looking for him?” Nelvon asked, though a little hesitant. “Mating with him without your house’s permission is going to put him in danger.”

Voryn stiffed at that, teeth bared, before he suppressed his anger. No, as angry as he was at someone accusing him of putting Nerevar in danger, he knew Nelvon was just looking out for Nerevar’s safety. He had agreed to house Nerevar after he was kicked out, after all, and judging from how strong the scent was it was for more than just a few days or even a week for his heat. 

“... I have permission.” Voryn explained, gripping the blanket a bit tighter. “He isn’t just an omega I want to claim without my family’s consent. He’s my fated mate.” 

Nelvon blinked in shock, before the information sunk in, and he realized how much it made sense in hindsight. 

He hadn’t considered them being fated mates. Not when it seemed to be a new development and the two knew each other for years, but there could be an explanation for why it only showed up now. But Nerevar’s symptoms were… Abnormal. Even the situation he described of Voryn trying desperately to claim him seemed out of character and reckless for what he’d heard about the heir. Nerevar couldn’t even eat either when in heat, rejecting any food Nelvon left him except the most bland of things, though he only ate a few bites. It was leaving him weaker and weaker by the day, which is why he was so worried about Nerevar running off on his own. 

“... He said he was going to leave Resdayn.” Nelvon explained as Voryn turned to leave. “I don’t know where he’s headed, but if you want to find him,” And Nelvon prayed Voryn would; after all, fated mates weren’t supposed to be kept apart. It was detrimental to both partners’ health for them to be separated long term, and he didn’t expect Nerevar to survive long outside of Resdayn if Voryn was telling the truth. “I would search all border towns.”

Voryn gave him a soft smile. 

“Thank you.”

[quoteablebooks]

Genre: Fiction, Adult, High Fantasy

Rating: 5 out of 5

Content Warning: Violence, Death, Blood, Death of a parent, Suicide, Grief, War, Vomit, Fatphobia        

Summary: At the elite Catenan Academy, a young fugitive uncovers layered mysteries and world-changing secrets in this new fantasy series by internationally bestselling author of The Licanius Trilogy, James Islington.

AUDI. VIDE. TACE.

The Catenan Republic – the Hierarchy – may rule the world now, but they do not know everything.

I tell them my name is Vis Telimus. I tell them I was orphaned after a tragic accident three years ago, and that good fortune alone has led to my acceptance into their most prestigious school. I tell them that once I graduate, I will gladly join the rest of civilised society in allowing my strength, my drive and my focus – what they call Will – to be leeched away and added to the power of those above me, as millions already do. As all must eventually do.

I tell them that I belong, and they believe me.

But the truth is that I have been sent to the Academy to find answers. To solve a murder. To search for an ancient weapon. To uncover secrets that may tear the Republic apart.

And that I will never, ever cede my Will to the empire that executed my family.

To survive, though, I will still have to rise through the Academy’s ranks. I will have to smile, and make friends, and pretend to be one of them and win. Because if I cannot, then those who want to control me, who know my real name, will no longer have any use for me.

And if the Hierarchy finds out who I truly am, they will kill me.

*Opinions*

This was definitely influenced by social media when EVERYONE I saw was talking about how good this book was. Now, I have been burned by online recommendations before so I gave it some time, but when a couple of my friends read it and also praised it, I figured it was time to pick it up. It turned out to be my third 5-star read of the year. 

The Will of the Many follows Vis, a seventeen-year-old orphan who has many secrets that he wishes to keep secret and a deep-seated hatred for the Hierarchy. Not a lot is told in the synopsis and I don’t want to spoil anything so the rest of this synopsis is going to be a bit vague. Vis is an orphan who fights for his life, literally, on the outskirts of The Catenan Republic. Most of his trouble comes from the fact that if anyone discovers who he truly is, he will be outright killed or sent to the Sappers, slabs that take all the will of the individual on it and funnel it to someone else. However, when he is unexpectedly adopted by a Senator, Vis is thrust into the unexpected political maneuvering of the Hierarchy and his new father’s desire to figure out what happened to his brother. To do that, Vis has to get into the pretentious Academy, rise through the ranks, and also do a number of things that might get him expelled or killed. Yet, more than one force is pulling for Vis to do what they want and the other one is aware of his true name and lineage. Vis has no choice, if he wants to live and stay out of the pyramid that would lead to him ceding his will, he has to be good. If he wants to live, he has to be the best. 

The plot of this novel is so expansive, yet never loses focus on the main point that started VIs on this path to start with, discovering what happened to Senator Telimus's brother while he was at the Academy. Yet, soon Vis finds that other parties have put him in the path of the Senator, wanting him to work for them instead while at the Academy, and all the other plot points unravel from there. I never once found myself bored while reading this novel, always wanting to see what would happen next. It is difficult to keep up the pace and interest through an over 600-page book, but Islington does a good job of utilizing time skips to cut out of the daily grind of the Academy while still giving the reader a good idea of the world that Vis is inhabiting. I think that at times leads to some missed opportunities for character development, it is the smallest of gripes. I am truly in awe of how Islington kept weaving all these threads and brought them all to a satisfying conclusion, every twist made sense once it was revealed, and left me with more questions than answers in the end. 

There was a conversation going on around Tiktok when this book started to get popular that if it had been written by a woman, it would have been considered YA instead of Adult. I thought that this was an interesting angle, numerous female presenting authors have complained that their books are misshelved or marketed as YA just because they are female-presenting. This conversation was in the front of my mind when I started reading and I could see a lot of points that people were making, Vis was only 17 and this is a coming-of-age tale in a sense taking place at a school. Islington does not hold the reader's hands and even as someone who has been reading fantasy for many years, I would have to go back to some sections and reread to make sure I was understanding and not missing something important. However, as soon as the events that led to Vis making a name for himself throughout The Cantenan Republic, any thought that this was anything but an adult novel exploded. It isn’t just the brutality of this scene, but the conversation that it starts and the way that Vis responds. There is also a tone to YA novels, even ones that are brutal, that is not seen in this novel. I wish I had better words for what I am attempting to explain because I don’t think that there is anything in this novel that a teenager couldn’t read, but this is clearly for adults. 

Vis is a wonderful POV character and I came to think of him as almost like a little brother as the story progressed. He is traumatized, firm in his beliefs, stubborn, and determined, yet still at his core cares about people and wants to do what he can to keep them safe. While he grows throughout the novel, it is not a way that completely changes who he is. In fact, it is the things at Vis’s core that keep him alive in the end(s). I really fell in love with Eidhin and Callidus, but I did feel as if the female students could be fleshed out a bit more. Then again, this is a plot-driven story, not character-driven, so it didn’t affect the rating. 

The ending!?! When I tell you I reread the last ten pages about three times and then thought about it in the shower to make sure I had gotten it all straight in my head. This is not a fault of the writing, in fact, it makes perfect sense given what we learn throughout the novel, but it was also so unexpected that I had to keep going back over it. This is how reveals are supposed to be done, not for shock and awe, but as a reward for following all the information placed throughout the novel. It was so satisfying and then I was SO MAD I have to wait for the next novel. 

There isn’t much more I can say without spoilers, but if you have read this book PLEASE talk to me because I have theories and will forget them within 3-5 business days. This is a 5-star read and if you are into fantasy or political intrigue tales. I have no idea how this trilogy is going to end, or even where it is going, but I am so excited to go along for the ride.

[yukidragon]

Can I suggest Alice’s magical girl name being ‘Cutie Bunny’? Kind of a play on Cutie Honey even if it’s really similar to Honey Bunny. It’s been kicking around in my head for the last few days (and screaming from growing up with anime like that)

Oh my gosh that is just so cute! I love it! It's absolutely adorable for a teeny powder poof of a girl who wants to fight for love and justice in sparkly dresses, but embarrassing for a woman in her mid-twenties going through her quarter life crisis.

I really want to draw it, but drawing isn't in the cards for me for who knows how long. I'm just going to have to brainstorm it.

Since Alice is albino and her features are all pale and nearly white, a very colorful outfit would suit her. I like to imagine her skirt being poofy, glittery, and covered in frills. Maybe with multiple shiny segments.

With a name like Cutie Bunny, her magical girl hair has to be a pair of long pigtails that look like bunny ears. It'd be a perfect reference to Sailor Moon, or maybe the episode where Sailor Venus pretends to be Sailor Moon and has to have her hair in the long pigtail style. After all, Alice's hair tends to get pretty curly, so it might be a more fuzzy bunny look.

Also, Cutie Bunny simply must have a magical wand with a bunny theme to it. One that shoots rainbows, hearts, and sparkles. Just the quintessential cutesy magical girl archetype.

Which makes Alice feel pretty embarrassed in the present. There's still recordings from the news and witnesses about her super energetic cutesy magical girl fights and speeches. She can't watch them without cringing so hard.

Even as a teen Alice would probably start feeling awkward about the cutesy look, wanting to be more mature, especially as she slowly grew more disillusioned with being a magical girl and found it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. Things get serious and bad things happen to people that can't be undone even in the most sugary of magical girl shows.

Since Alice went through a pastel goth phase in her teens, she'd probably have a similar phase in her transformation, complete with a more "mature" superhero name. I'm not sure what, but I have a feeling people still call her Cutie Bunny since people are used to it, much to her chagrin. It gets even more awkward as an adult. Even with a mature costume, the name of Cutie Bunny is one she is never going to live down.

Of course, I imagine Jack would find it to be simply adorable, and he would have a lot of fun coming up with some cute bunny puns and jokes for his Cutie Bunny sunshine~

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

[olderthannetfic]

olderthannetfic/729300911208448001/the-reason-theres-more-positivity-for

This is trolling. No one assumes trans men are masculine. We get called boys even in our 30s, drawn as skinny white AFABs in layers of soft clothing, and reassured that it's okay if we want to kiss other boys. Actually, being assured that you're a cutie patootie fem uwu is really dysphoria inducing for a lot of trans men. I was on tumblr when I had just come out when I was 15 and it was incredibly discouraging to see the posts fawning over adorable wittle twans bois. I'm 25, I don't want to hold hands with a boy, I want to fuck a man. I don't want to change my hobbies and I don't care if people think it's toxic masculinity that makes me like "manly" things (way to assign the binary to activities, real progressive of you) and I don't get anything from "let boys be soft" with clapping emojis and sparkles inbetween every word with glittering font. "No actually it's good to not support part of a marginalized group!" no. Your trolling is shit and so are you.

And the idea that ace people are assumed to be against sex actually made me laugh out loud. I'm working on my doctorate and actually, on college campuses? I've heard from professors - not students, professors, adults old enough to have college-age kids - that ace people have sex at the same rate as straights but they need more foreplay, ace people just need more time to get to know you but after that they're sexually indistinguishable from heterosexuals, that asexuality isn't real, that asexuality is an internet label people use instead of admitting that they can't get laid, and my least favorite, that any man who says he's asexual is actually an incel/that asexuality is another term for incels and femcels. Then you hop online and the internet goes, "Ace people love sex! Ace people love kink! Ace people have just as much sexual attraction as other people! You'r'e valid if you're ace and fuck/do kink/are attracted to everyone!" and if there's positivity for people who are ace who aren't into sex, I've yet to see it. Hell, being not into sex gets you labeled "repulsed", like you're retreating from it the way the Wicked Witch of the West would from water and not just not into it. That happened even in OTNF's own comment section, and these are not uneducated people when it comes to queerness, we've just normalized that sex is a part of everyone's identity so much that even if you're asexual, it's weird and must be a repulsion thing if you're not into it. "Uh actually everyone assumes [__] so there's no need for positivity for [__]" fucking where?! Where are all these people who assume being asexual = not wanting sex?

For the record, I got my undergrad at two different universities due to a change of major, got my master's at another, and am getting my doctorate at a fourth, all in four different US states. One was in the Northeast, one was in the South, one was in the Midwest and now I'm on the West Coast. And I have never encountered people who assume trans men are manly or that asexual people don't have sex.

I have encountered sex negative asexuals, people who get so upset they leave the room if you make a joke involving them and sex, who interrupt the professor mid-lecture to say, "Ace people have sex!", though. That's how deeply this is ingrained in some people's minds, they will say it even when it does not apply to them, even when it's the opposite of themselves, so they can make sure they are Educating The Cishetallos and, more importantly, then share the moment they had to do so with their progressive friends for brownie points/in order to be seen as One Of The Good Queers who educates others.

As for the weird thing in the troll ask pretending anyone who talks about their lived experience believes in a conspiracy... do yourself a favor and get help bringing up your literacy before you take the SAT/ACT, kid. Not only is your trolling shit but you don't understand what the word conspiracy means. Someone saying, "[insert thing here] happened to me" is not a conspiracy and this is why your English teachers gave you C's - to get you out of their classroom and make your lack of comprehension someone else's problem.

In the event this wasn't a troll but was actually what you read, please get two tutors and possibly a screening for any latent anxiety or mental illnesses that would explain how you read people venting about shitty life experiences and thought they believed there was a conspiracy of some kind going on. Because that's the kind of making shit up out of thin air my dad, who has diagnosed Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Paranoid Personality Disorder, would do, and it's not a great sign if you read people going, "the people around me are shitty about this" and jumped to "the people who sent those asks are saying there's a conspiracy theory against them and I am the one sole person who can see the truth here!"

I really don't know how to explain this to people but if someone says something is shitty on their campus, they're saying something is shitty on their campus. It's not a personal attack or conspiracy. Sometimes shit fucking sucks and it's exactly that deep.

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You wouldn't think "Someone had a stupid-ass opinion on my college campus" would be that hard to believe.