#based on everyone's weaknesses right? well the thing is that everyone's punishments will be a little different this time and like.

[linagram]

writing the prisoners' t3 trailer voicelines (yes i am already working on them. i like to be prepared HSDJSKSL) while knowing what the guilty prisoners' punishments are gonna be like and what's gonna happen to the guards is so.

[usedpidemo]

More than you know (Nmixx Haewon)

“Miss Haewon, please see me after class hours later. I would like to talk to you.”

There it is. A rather predictable bookend to another dull lecture. She saw it coming from the moment she walked into the classroom. 

She absolutely loathes hearing it. 

Despite the comically indignant scowl she shoots you on the way out—and the mocking jeers from her friends that elicit embarrassment—by the time the final bell rings, she couldn’t wait to see you later on.

You’re excited, too—but for all the wrong reasons. 

She’s the only thing keeping your passion for teaching alive.

—————

For the record, Haewon is not a bad student, not in the slightest. If anything, she’s par for the course. She’s not gonna be some summa cum laude, but she isn’t a sorry case, either. And that’s been the pattern with your students for years. They only care enough just to get by. Haewon is the most clear-cut example you can refer to.

Based on the rather intriguing stares she shoots at you, you’d be tricked into believing she’s actually interested enough in improving her future performance in class. Peeking through the laptop, catching glimpses of everyone’s grades. Her name is highlighted on the document, and the scores consist primarily of mid-eighties with some low-nineties. Clearly she’s nowhere close to a flunk or a future dropout. 

Better than the high seventies and low eighties that the rest of your class averages.

“Sir, how many times do we need to go over this. I’m doing well for myself,” she remarks, giving you a look that says I told you so. The evidence is right in front of you, written in bold. “C’mon sir. Just let me go early today.”

And that’s when you make your first of many mistakes—feeding her the attention she craves. Where’s this energy when it comes to your lectures, you wonder?

Before you even entertain the thought, the scene has already gone completely sideways. Here’s a student with zero regard for following rules, and you’ve experienced your fair share of troublemakers. She’s sitting on the desk, pale skin in plain view from the off shoulder cropped sweatshirt that barely qualifies for the dress code. You’re looking—and she’s keenly noticing. 

“Maybe another time, sir?” Haewon reads your mind like an open book. She’s purposely dressing improperly for two reasons: to piss off the higher-ups who hate her guts, and to make it easier for you to rip through her clothes. “I’ve got dance practice with the theater girls and I’m running late.”

“Well for one, you can drop the honorifics,” you reply, plainly, in a particularly weak effort to change the conversation. The attention you give her is short-lived; your focus returns to the unanswered emails and grades you need to fill. “Class hours are done for the day.”

It’s evidently not the response she wanted, because her arms are crossed and she’s pouting. You have to admit, she looks cute acting like that, revealing clothes be damned.

“Sir.” Haewon drawls out into a groan, bothered by the monotony of waiting when she has places to be. She won’t go as far as to knock your laptop down, but she’s considering it as a last resort. “You’re being a bitch right now.”

Anyone else in her position would get it—a verbal lashing that would get your teaching license rescinded and take you to court, but Haewon is the epitome of getting away with murder. You have no idea how she does it—how she manages to escape mostly unscathed from punishment. Even now while you drum on the keyboard, because you’re allowing her to call you a bitch without consequence. 

Maybe because you like her more than you would openly admit.

She sighs. It’s a defeatist tone. A few moments later, you close your laptop and she perks up.

“Take a seat. I do want to talk to you about something important,” you tell her, knowing one hundred percent certain she’s not getting off your desk. 

Haewon can’t help herself to a snarky comment. “Damn. Finally.”

By every conceivable account, this should be awkward, if not outright wrong. She’s still an undergrad, you tell yourself, staring into her sharp, alluring eyes. For as rebellious and as unruly as Haewon acts, she still listens to you. Hell, you’re the only professor she bothers to attend classes regularly for. She’d tell you she cares in her own twisted way. Look at how she dresses, for one. Your thoughts consist of mainly her in some cumbersome position, her lips letting out these desperate, heavy gasps. Your hands squeezing her taut breasts; the way her shirt accentuates the curves of her chest drives your imagination wild. You can spend all day planning how you intend to fuck her—

“Sir, you’re staring again.” A snap back to the present, where she’s grinning and leaning close to your face. So pretty. “I get it—I’m hot, but we’re on borrowed time, sir.”

“Right. I honestly forgot what I was gonna tell you,” you mindlessly drawl, searching through your desk for something. Something to temporarily distract you from the inevitability of the end. The rest of your paperwork lies unattended in the faculty room, you remember, but you’re not gonna step foot inside that place—not when the other professors are still around. Time is money. “But it’s definitely not your grades, that’s for certain.”

“What’s it about, then?” Her eyes continue to follow your every move. 

You place a folded sheet of paper between you. She grabs it and reads through the brief content. The response is concerning. 

“You’re leaving?” Haewon turns to you, stunned and gobsmacked. A rare expression coming from someone who’s usually indifferent toward everything and everyone.

Genuinely, you have no idea how to explain yourself. You had this all planned out since the beginning of the year; these two semesters will be your last, you were completely certain. You could have told anyone in the faculty. They’re decent people—as decent as they can be during the few times you actually interact with them—but they were merely coworkers and nothing more. You could have told your wife, who just so happens to be a fellow professor and colleague, but she’s one of the reasons why you’re leaving in the first place. 

Word spreads like wildfire around campus, so you know to be careful, but this is straight recklessness. You call it mutual trust.

“Been thinking about it for a while,” you say, rather quietly, trying your hardest not to look her way. 

“Let me guess,” she says, breaking the pretense of sympathy and concern for her usual caustic tone. “No one cares about your shitty class?”

You’re not remotely bothered by her comment, even if she’s speaking the truth. Though she could have used a nicer word besides shitty. “Part of it, yeah.”

“I seriously don’t understand why there’s gotta be a religious unit for a business degree,” she adds, fascinated by her own question. Even more so than listening to your lectures. “I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either.” Truthfully, you seriously question why you’re even teaching here to begin with.

You’re employed by one of the top universities in the country; every parent would sacrifice everything just for their children to study here. It pays well by teaching standards, but the bar is in hell. Despite the prestige, the overall experience is no different than your time in public high school. Most of the students who do attend come from rich backgrounds; people who use the place as a dick measuring contest to see who is the richer person. These entitled scholars who are always on their phone—one of their many phones—and cheat to get ahead.

It happens so often on the regular that you eventually stopped caring.

“Hmm,” Haewon thinks to herself, running through every piece of information she has to weaponize against you. She knows you better than anyone, mainly because you share personal life details like they’re the daily newspaper. Not to mention the very reason she comes to the classroom in the afternoons: you.

Then she comes to a rather off the wall conclusion. “It’s Miss Myoui, isn’t it?”

You squint your eyes. Haewon glints up. A small opening. 

After a brief pause, she piles on, smirking. “Did I touch a nerve? Poor you,” she says, shooting you a mocking pout that you mostly ignore. “I guess you haven’t had some good pussy in a while. I mean, there’s no reason for me to be here other than the fact that Miss Myoui isn’t letting you clap her ass. Maybe the rumors are true then—”

Before she continues to spill more information that anyone shouldn’t be allowed to know, you fire back with a sharp glare. She cheekily grins. By ignoring the flashing red light right in front of you, you’re purposefully walking towards your own downfall.  It’s a trap; you know this. You know Haewon more than any other student. All her little tricks, all her crafty schemes. 

God, you can already see how this is gonna end.

“So I’m right?” Haewon tilts her head, leaning slightly forward. Her smug expression, word choice, and mocking tone tests your patience—including your blood levels—and you’re failing by the minute. “Trouble at home?”

Your response? Nothing. Going word for word with her ultimately results in a losing effort; previous conversations with her leave you more tongue tied and in a rut by the end. Haewon is so natural at getting under people’s skin. It’s what she gets off on—wrapping professors and superiors around her finger with her mouth. And more often than not, she’s charismatic and charming enough that it’s entertaining, but no one wants to openly admit it except you.

It’s how she’s able to read you like an open book. Let personal information slip so seamlessly. The numerous discussions regarding her underperformance in class lead into intimate sessions where you and Haewon become more acquainted with each other. A little too comfortable at times, but you can see where and why she acts the way she does. And you had come to the conclusion that you can’t fix her. Many have tried—and failed. She does whatever she wants, and she’ll end up getting away with it.

You slide your laptop aside, ready to dance with the devil, going against everything you swore against. “Mmm—not quite, but you’re halfway there.”

Haewon smiles and her eyes flutter. Not in a patronizing, condescending way, but the sweet kind. Genuine. The soft side she’ll only let you see. “Miss Myoui not letting you clap, sir?”

“She does,” you say, dour. And I already told you class hours are done. Please don’t call me sir.”

“Right. Sir.” Haewon’s playful tone trails off with that loathsome word. She can’t help but smirk; it’s second nature to her. She’ll claim that you fell for that bait, but that was deliberate, you’ll say—even if she refuses to believe you.  

After a brief impasse, “So—sir,” she follows, using her eyebrows and cadence to tease, her hands on the edge of her pants, teasing some underwear, “You need to fuck me again? Now? Is Miss Myoui not letting you have some lately?”

Turning your gaze away and to the desk, “About Mina,” you reply, drumming your fingers on the table, deep in thought, “I’m planning to divorce her soon.”

“Huh?” Her eyes shoot wide, her expression rather surprised at the sudden revelation. You’d think by how she teases you about your wife, she’d have a much more subdued reaction. Considering she knows facets of your rather strange relationship with Mina. “Well, I would tell you’d be fumbling big time, but you should know—”

“She’s cheating on me. I know.” 

Now she’s genuinely shocked, completely caught unaware. She’d assume you to be particularly naive and clueless about campus rumblings, especially since she’d never see you outside of the classroom and in the faculty room. “Well damn. I honestly thought you didn’t know.”

“Can’t say it would be the first time I’ve heard about it,” you say, turning to face her again, cold and gloomy. Pointing your finger at her, “And before you say anything, no, I didn’t catch her getting eaten out in the faculty room.” 

You say that with the utmost sincerity—and sarcasm.

Haewon hesitates, before answering, rather  “I figured.” She understands that your poor eyes have seen some things you shouldn’t be seeing.

Truthfully, you’re amazed she hasn’t brought up the subject a lot earlier. Since the end of the previous academic year, you’ve noticed Mina’s sudden changes in behavior. She’s sending more text messages telling you she’ll arrive home later than usual, the frequent faculty outings she chooses to attend, the cancellation of plans scheduled months in advance—the biggest of which, a dinner date at a particularly expensive five-star restaurant on the other side of town that has a notorious 18 month waitlist that you miraculously booked for your anniversary. And that was five months ago.

People change, but Mina is an entirely different person to you now. You can hardly recognize her.

“I guess I should say I’m sorry for what happened,” Haewon says, pretty modest and empathetic in tone, but even during serious moments, she can’t help but remark, “But you were kind of loser material for a woman like her.”

You can only stare back, annoyed. She chuckles, heartily. Seeing your animated, cartoonish expressions only serves to amuse her even further and fuel her addiction of teasing you. 

“Ah, I fucking love you, sir. You’re my favorite professor for this reason.” In an instant, the somber facade falls apart and she’s back to being her usual coy self.

“Among other things?” you question.

“Such as?” Haewon looks confused. It’s a bluff; you’re calling it now. “Such as what, sir?”

Placing a hand on her knee, you’re creating friction so intense that her mouth goes agape and her breaths grow heavier. “Such as the fact that no one eats you out better than I do,” you reply, inflection transitioning from formal to low.

“Oh?” She doesn’t believe what’s happening to you. “Sir,” her cadence dances in such a melodic and sultry way it’s gonna ruin you faster than anything she’s done so far. “You have no evidence to prove—”

Suddenly, Haewon goes tongue tied, unable to finish her sentence. That’s a first. And you didn’t need to lift a finger or use your voice. Your other hand finds solace around her toned waist, exploring her tummy, and it’s thankfully not restricted by any layer of clothing. So much pristine skin to claim as yours, you begin to lose your restraint—and there isn’t much left to begin with.

“I can take you to the faculty room and show you,” you mumble against her belly, the cold breath tickling her flesh that she trembles. Haewon’s senses float off, her vision growing dark as her hands impulsively latch onto your shoulders. In return, you peck her navel, her abs, until you reach her abdomen, a hair’s breadth away from her chest. Between kisses, you continue to feed into her want, “Or I can give you an example right now.”

“Please,” Haewon finds enough clarity to cup your face up and meet her in a lengthy passionate liplock. This is what she wanted from the start. “Indulge me, sir.”

The only thing keeping you two apart is the laptop dangling on the opposite side of the table, almost pushed aside while you were making out. You quickly place it on a random desk before closing the two classroom door curtains.

When you return to Haewon, she’s sitting atop your desk, playfully swinging her legs, smiling modestly. It’s only now that you recognize how pretty she looks. But behind that meek appearance is a demon, a temptress that only sees you as a conduit for pleasure. In her eyes, the only purpose you have to give is sex, and nothing more. 

So push your chair forward when you sit down. Haewon’s legs are already spread wide, but the pants remain on them. She doesn’t like to do it herself. 

“Won’t give me a cheating discount?” you say, looking up at her coy grin, placing your hands around the hem of her trousers.

“Technically—” she trails off, kissing you, “You’re cheating on her with me, sir.” Followed by another. Each one deeper, more intimate than the last. “Don’t act all innocent now, especially when we’ve been doing this for months.”

Then, Haewon consumes you—as in, devours you. Grabs you and makes out with you with a passion you wish she’d present during class hours. You’d be content to remain in this position for the rest of the day, even if the clothes never come off; he’s so passionate and fervent that it’s intoxicating. But it’s all planned. Elaborate. You’re familiar with her more than you ever want to be: how she loves to unbutton your shirt while kissing you, how she mumbles and hums softly against your mouth, how she whispers desires that end up becoming realized after the foreplay. In reality, she’s the one dictating the pace, the one calling all the shots, and you’re merely an instrument she uses to indulge herself.

And she wants it: everywhere, in every position—something you find too much to handle, and she’s already quite the handful. But it’s merely a delay of the inevitable; you’re going to fuck Haewon, you’re gonna pour all your cum inside her, and you can figure out the rest the morning after.

More often than not, your shirt ends up unbuttoned, but not completely undone. One of two layers keeping your impulsive desires in check. As you work Haewon’s pants down her legs, most of your lesser instincts are shown in full display. It takes almost tearing your own fingers off your very hands not to rip through her panties. Meanwhile, she’s lounging on the desk, enjoying the sight of you reverting back to something primal. 

The way you fondle her creamy thighs, never finding their beginning and end, is like beholding a sculpture crafted by the gods. They’re meant to be worshiped, to be handled reverently.

And Haewon guides you through the process, commanding you like she has authority over you. Titles do not matter—they never have. “Keep going,” she says, as you leave delicate kiss marks down her thighs, slowly burying yourself into the inviting presence of her pussy. Peeking through the near-nonexistent layer of fabric, she shifts the lift of her legs, perching on your shoulders as she forces you into her suffocating warmth. 

“Show me,” she gasps, brushing your hair with her hand, and that’s what sets the rest into motion.

Her legs clutch you into a breathless hold. God, she’s killing you slowly, and you don’t mind it one bit. At this point, you have nothing to lose. You might as well treat this as your last supper, your final meal before you have to say goodbye. She can strangle you with her thighs while you drag your tongue up and down her folds, suck on her clit, take in all her nectar—it doesn’t change the fact that Haewon is gonna fucking end you. 

You might as well repay the favor.

And despite throwing caution to the wind, Haewon appears unprepared. Dazed and confused by the overwhelming sensation burning through her nerves, she trembles—and moans. She couldn’t be any less subtle if she tried; hearing her hit notes you never thought she’s capable of hitting only serves to be a minor distraction from her pulsating heat. You’re relentless, slowly picking away at her senses, at her sensitive cunt, knowing that no one can eat her out as well as you do.

“S-sir.” Haewon can only muster up a single word before her mouth fills the room with nothing but air. 

Deep down, you despise the rather obstructive yet comfortable position you’re in. Your tongue brushes against Haewon’s folds, going back and forth to taste of her warmth and her clit. The rest of her frame lays atop the desk, trembling, unable to keep herself steady under your grip. She’s lost you somewhere in between, clinging onto the edges of the table for support. You can only imagine her jaw agape, her expressions twisting in pleasure, wriggling and tossing her head around as she aimlessly tries to find some semblance of control.

Her mouth is the only tool she can use to make some sense of this overwhelming bliss. And even that doesn’t amount to much. ‘Shit,’ ‘so good,’ ‘don’t stop—’ these are only some of the things she groans out as you trap her in a whirlpool of her own ecstasy. It’s still not enough. You want to prove her wrong; you want to remind her what’s important, and the only way you can make sure she truly understands if she fucking cums all over your face.

So while Haewon writhes and makes a damn mess of your desk, you continue to feast on her pretty cunt. She’s making sure every person in the building knows how good your tongue is, and it’s in character with how unabashedly shameless she behaves in front of everyone. Her legs kick sharply against your chair, so you end up where you were supposed to be from the beginning—on your knees. And yet it doesn’t deter you; if anything, you grow more attached to her pussy, savoring every taste and drop, taking piece of every little part of her as yours.

You can’t wait to explore the rest of her body and claim it as yours. On the off chance you’re able to rip her shirt off, your hands roam her tight, lithe figure. You’re met by layers of fabric, frustrated at the inability to grab her breasts in their natural form. She grabs you by the wrists; it’s a miracle she’s able to feel you through the waves crushing her to the desk. You suck on her clit hard. She lets out this guttural moan that sounds violent in nature, like you’re hurting her, when you’re actually doing the exact opposite. 

And it’s how you play off each other for the most part. Your need to get Haewon naked is only matched by her desperation to cum. She doesn’t need to tell you directly how much she wants to. Her hands guide you beneath her shirt, and you press on the underside of her boobs in appreciation. You’re playing a dangerous game; you have no intention of letting go. 

Surprisingly, Haewon holds up well. One look and it might appear that she’s a complete wreck: how her body trembles unceasingly, how she has half her shirt lifted to give you a better view of her chest for when you eventually come up for air, how helpless she is at even the slightest touch. You made her like this. It’s a habit she’s used to by now; she’s learned that a figure like hers is meant to be admired, to be used.

Before you grow comfortable with the habit, the idea that you can eat her out on the desk for hours, Haewon cums.

She keens and shudders through her surprise orgasm. It’s aligned with her playful nature to cum without your knowing, even though the signs were there all along. Your tongue works through the torrent of fluid, then the wave of slick that you drink up. Lap whatever your satiated bud allows. You can see remnants of her climax spill down the desk and to the floor, to her pants. 

Even now, you’re still learning something new about your students. For one, you never knew Haewon squirts.

The wet desk would make for a perfect reference picture for when she questions your legitimacy again—but you have better ways of explaining yourself.

You give Haewon no reprieve; she mewls and whimpers as you lick her folds clean, till you settle into soft, gentle kisses. The situation is all sorts of fucked; she has places to be and friends to meet, but you have her on top of your desk, keening after eating her out and making her cum without a care. It’s gonna take an essay's worth of explaining the glaringly wet patches on her clothes and deep red marks over her skin. 

Truthfully, she’d rather be with you than with her overbearing friends—but you won’t hear it directly from her lips.

Speaking of, you hear a phone ring. Haewon cranes her neck in the direction of her bag. “Sir, I need my phone.” She huffs, gasping for air, each word spaced out between deep breaths. 

Regretfully, it takes every bit of your resolve to release your tongue from her warm cunt. You rummage through her bag and hand the phone over to her. It’s about picking up the pieces now, salvaging whatever you can make of the mess you made, albeit there’s hardly anything to save, even yourself. 

“Don’t.” Haewon uses her loose toes to point at you, shifting herself into a sitting position on the desk. You’re halfway done with the first button on your shirt when she stops you. She’s tapping through her phone, texting some bullshit excuse to her friends. Knowing her, they’re most likely no better than her; they might be playing into your little secret, too. All it takes is one person, one word of mouth, before information spreads around like wildfire.

Like everything else about her, you had mostly left it up to interpretation. Forcing details out of Haewon is a near-impossible task. You were never really a good negotiator. The deal usually ends up like this: her panties for a bonus in her grades, her lips for a signed excuse letter, and if she was really in the mood, her pussy for a cheat sheet. Sometimes, 

She sets her phone aside on the desk, hopping off the table to lay her hands on your exposed chest. Momentarily kissing you, she whispers, “Sir, I told them I would be a little late today. You should know better by now.” 

Her fingers wring around the collar of your button up shirt, eyes ablaze with reinvigorated lust, lips curled  in a pleasant smile. You’re so enamored with her, it drives you crazy. Even when she pushes you onto your chair, even when she rips the already undone shirt off your body, all you can do is pay attention to the stars in her eyes. Her warm, wanton gaze—both charming and alluring in all the right ways. She knows how to use every part of herself to near perfection. 

The rest of your clothes couldn’t come off any faster. Your pants and boxers pool around your ankles, followed shortly by a dark cropped sweatshirt. You’re not given any time to savor the perfection that is Haewon’s naked figure; she’s straddled on your lap, stroking your hard cock with a delicate grip. She smirks, and she has every right to look smug. You’re left breathless, under pressure; if only you can see yourself in the mirror and see how needy you look, and the utter control Haewon has over you.

And you allow her; this is her specialty, this is what she’s built for—to fucking end you.

If your words allow you, you’d command her to get on her knees, suck your cock and take a warm load all over her face; this is the ideal position to make the move. But you can’t. Not when you’re missing the point. 

Haewon is on the edge of your lap, running her hand around your cock, gathering spurts of precum on her nails and finger pads. She’s still winded from before, slow in her movements. The naughty look she gives your body never grows old. 

“I hope you don’t mind if I ask you a question,” she starts, looking down at the little mess she’s making on your thigh. You’re too overwhelmed to breathe, let alone say a word.

“Be honest with me. I’m being serious for once.” 

And she sounds like she means it. You gulp your throat as you enter the unknown.

Her eyes flicker up to meet yours, her expression deep in thought, something she’s not usually seen doing. And you feel the heat gradually building on your lap, but you’re paralyzed by anxiety for the sensation to register. She runs the other hand through hair to take a good luck at you: your rather sweaty face, somewhere between pleasure and tense. 

“Tell me,” she sighs, running a hand down your shoulder to your elbow, before continuing, “Am I the best student you’ve ever fucked?”

“Yes.” The word comes out involuntarily, as if it were muscle memory. Like your body knows, and it knows itself better than anyone or anything else.

It draws a piqued reaction from Haewon. She raises an eyebrow, unconvinced. “And what about Yoona?”

“And what about her?” 

A reply you end up regretting almost immediately. Haewon doesn’t take bullshit for an answer, as evident by the cold, dour stare on her face. If there’s anyone who knows the ins and outs of university, it’s her. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cave in. “She’s so tight,” you admit, sounding like a guilty criminal being interrogated. “But you’re still the best, I swear.”

“And what about Yuna? That exchange student Lily? Miss Minatozaki? You say that to just about anyone.” 

In an instant, she goes from curious and passionate to downright frightening. It’s not supposed to be like this; normally it’s you who has the authority. Haewon can go on and on for hours if she wanted to. She has all the leverage, all the evidence, all the power to cause the end of everything, your life included. But she only wants one thing: the truth.

“They’re nothing compared to you. Promise. You’re still my favorite student.”

To a certain extent, you’re right; Haewon is your favorite, but for all for the wrong reasons. It has nothing to do with teaching her anything other than being a good toy, because deep down, she’s about as irredeemable as your peers make her out to be. Really, it’s about using her body, fucking her, pushing her to the absolute limits—anything to get your mind out of the numbing, monotonous work of being an actual professor. There are many good girls in class, including the names she mentions in passing, but this is a stark reminder that Haewon is yours, and you belong to Haewon.

“Then show me.”

And to drive the point even further, she sinks down on your lap, pressing her weight on your crotch—until her pussy meets your cock and you both disappear into the sea of pleasure again.

Haewon throws her head back, and she’s never looked more vulnerable, not even when you had her laid out on the desk. All this flesh and body to claim, and you have no clue where to begin. But that’s the least of your problems when she begins to glide up and down, rocking your lap with slow, agonizing thrusts. You end up blanking out and caring about the friction in your hips instead. 

The slip of your cock in and out of her pussy when she rides you. Your palms press against her waist while you watch her slowly come undone: the moans, curses, and every sound in between, the rapidly twisting expressions, the hypnotic jiggle of her chest. Soon, you find a steady rhythm to match, and everything becomes effortless. Both of you pushing and pulling against each other’s bodies in an effort to get deeper. You forget you’re a professor and her a student, only two souls in need of sex during some trying times in your lives.

In a way, you’re both meant to be. Fate is a strange entity.

Then Haewon regains some clarity, enough to be kissing you, moaning directly in your ear, demanding your gaze. Even when her hole swallows your cock, she still wants your attention. And even while you have it so deep in her cunt that she’s mewling, struggling for oxygen, she manages to form a coherent sentence.

“Tell me I’m the tightest. Tell me I have the best pussy you ever fucked.” 

God, she’s so fucking tight you can’t fully comprehend it. Perhaps even more, and you’re used to using her. Maybe it’s all that pent-up frustration toward your dead end job, toward Mina, that makes her clench tighter. That’s now how pussy works; you’re just stretching her out really hard, but you have nothing sensible to conclude with. What you can tell, however, is that you needed this—and you needed it badly. 

You’re thankful you closed off the doors and curtains to the classroom, because the last thing anyone needs to see and hear is the sight of Haewon riding you while you both moan about how good the other feels. 

“Love this pussy,” you murmur, breathing against her collarbone, wanting a taste of her taut nipple. She has you in a tight bearhug that binds your hands around her waist. “Fuck—so—fucking—tight—the best—”

And that’s all she needed to hear. Every word—every sound—slips from her lips like it hurts, but she’s in total bliss. She moves her hips against the roll of your cock with deep emphasis, like fitting puzzle pieces together, and it sends you. You’re left even more breathless, more in awe at how fucking well Haewon takes your length. As if it was always meant for her. 

Curses and praise aside, she’s never one to talk during sex. But then she makes the faintest comment about how your cock fits so snug inside her, and you honestly just lose it.

Once in a while, a certain inquiry is brought up. What’s your favorite thing about me, Haewon asks, when it’s supposed to be the opposite. You’re supposed to give out this very question to your students as a way to improve your teaching style and maybe come off as an approachable authority figure. As expected, it wasn’t helpful in the slightest. She then would suddenly come to you at the most random of times with this particular question, and you’d be preoccupied with numerous things—home life, school activities, the usual—to find an answer. 

But right there, right as you spear deep into her tight, needy cunt, is where you figure it all out. It’s all in the little details. Your hand going up and down her arched back. The squelching of her pussy against your cock. The furious sound of your flesh slapping against hers. Her loose, shrilly whines while you bury your face between her chest, begging you harder. Her hands tangled with your hair and nape. All that while she’s bouncing on your lap at such a feverish pace; she’s going to break the chair you’re sitting on.

Before you know it, your tongue has traveled all over the most sensitive parts of her body: nipples, neck, and even pits. 

Everything about Haewon is so ridiculous, you can’t believe how much of a challenge she has been for the longest time that you’ve forgotten how easily she folds. Like she’s meant to be used.

But no punishment is suitable enough; no amount of discipline can change her. If anything, it only fuels her goal to thread the needle even further.

“Gonna fucking cum, Haewon,” you hiss against her ear, blurring the line between kissing and biting her collarbone. Using all the strength in your hips, you have her legs spread as wide as they can over the chair, over your thighs. The squirt she releases as she crashes on your lap serves to fan the flames in your cock even brighter. It’s all but inevitable that you’ll pour it all inside her, and she wouldn’t want it any other way.

If you had any semblance of a spine, you’d never let her hear the end of it. The idea that her pussy isn’t getting its fair share of seed disgusts her. She needs to learn what boundaries are, and how not to cross said lines. At least there’s one lesson you can impart on her before you split, but you’ll save that for another day, because you cum.

You fuck Haewon so hard, she turns into mush that melts in your grasp. Forget the guttural groan you made; the aftermath is alarming. Her pussy drips with a huge load pooling on the chair and trickling down her thighs. You make sure you bury yourself to the hilt and unload inside her. The evidence is undeniable; from the smell to the sight of clothes and cum, there’s no concealing it—if there was even anything to hide, because your salacious activity could easily be heard anywhere in the building. 

And lost in the madness is your train of thought; your body is reeling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you simply idle. Let your cock stay in Haewon’s warmth as long as possible. Let the setting sun bathe her pretty face in that lovely afterglow. Let her slowly recover and realize that you’ve been right all along about everything.

“Sir, you came inside me a lot,” she says, a little over a whisper, trying to take record of your work. Her eyes stay glued to the puddle of cum dripping down her leg, running a finger to taste you. 

“For my favorite student, why wouldn’t I,” you tell her, caressing your hand up and down her back. Even through the climax, you never stopped. 

The brief, peaceful respite is interrupted by, you guessed it, another phone. This time, it’s not Haewon’s. She moves gingerly bending down, almost tumbling over in an attempt to retrieve your phone from the depths of your pocket. Your only contribution is ensuring she doesn’t bash her head on the floor. 

“Well, well, well,” she comments, looking at your phone with a familiar, sarcastic tone before handing it over to you. “Speak of the devil.”

On the screen are two missed calls and one new text, all from none other than Mina herself. A grim reminder of the reality you live in.

The message is as predictable as it reads. She won’t be home till late in the evening, which might as well be dawn of the next day.

“Miss Myoui is getting it. A hundred percent sure.” 

She delivers it with such conviction that it might as well be fact. You’d be upset about the very thought—anyone would—but a glance at Haewon gives you an idea. One that leaves her curious.

“Sir? Why are you looking at me like that?”

You can already imagine it: the image of railing Haewon everywhere. On the table, against the wall, under the showers. Maybe if you’re lucky enough, Mina will go through that door and be greeted by the sight of her least favorite student getting fucked by her husband from behind.

You show her the text, and just like that, you’re both one and the same. A look of pride crosses her face, as if she’s accomplished an important milestone—and it’s quite a momentous one.

And what better way to celebrate than inside the comfort of your home.

—————

(A/N: Been down bad for Haewon since December. Also, NMIXX is actually good now! Their latest EP has some bangers, highly recommend Run for Roses and Passionfruit. The setting might be a bit more on the bleaker/less wholesome side, but I hope it's not uncomfortable/upsetting. Thank you for reading!)

[with-my-calamitous-love]

HELP ME HOLD ONTO YOU / WE WILL NEVER GO BACK

katsuki bakugou x reader

after the war, katsuki still deals with the trauma and the hurt. in a moment of what he thinks is weakness, you help him through a panic attack.

based on a convo i had with @suksatoru ❄️

inspired by the archer + the great war

after the war, he’s seen cruelty. he knows it well.

his knuckles were bruised like violets, long after his injuries healed and his blood stopped escaping him. the flashes of the battle still came back to him in hazy blurs. he’s got a hundred thrown out speeches, things he could still say but doesn’t.

he was now the #1 hero. he married you and became one of the most well-respected men in the country. he survived the war. but he still feels like the hero in him, maybe just a small part, died alongside those undeserving villains.

he’s getting old, and he knows what it feels like to be on both sides. he’s been the archer, and he’s been the prey. he survived, but now more eyes were on him. he could survive the battle, but now, he wasn’t sure if he could survive ever knowing if he’ll live up to what he’s made out to be.

the great, mighty explosion king katsuki bakugou actually had doubts about himself.

and he can't thank you enough for being there for him. things have been insanely stressful lately. theres been more crime and more unrest, and he feels like he's going to go insane from sheer exhaustion. the room is on fire, but only for him. theres invisible smoke only he can see. where everyone sees a strong, selfless hero, katsuki sees a soldier returning only half his weight.

right now, he’s pacing like a ghost. he’s just gotten home and somehow, all the oxygen has been swept from his lungs. he feels his knees get weak as he tried to make sense of it all- the bloodshed and those crimson clovers. if he survived, why did he feel like punishing himself for things he never did? why was he justifying it?

he hates his reflection. he has for years. all of his heroes, everyone he’s believed in has died, all alone and away from him. apart of him is waiting for that dark side, that sign that he isn’t actually alright here.

he sinks down on the couch, defeated. he doesn’t even realize he’s crying.

not until you gently cup his face, and wipe away his tears.

he blinks, breathing still ragged. he acknowledges that you’re there but can’t make out anything. his vision is blurred with salt streams.

the sound of your voice, asking him whats wrong, barely registers in his mind. his red eyes search to find you, and you can see that pain. he’s hurt. he’s wounded. and he’s pretending that he isn’t.

“breathe.” you whisper. he honestly expects you to yell, to slap him back to reality. but you don’t. you hush him to safety. “breathe, katsuki.”

he tries to follow your instruction, focusing on his breathing. he tries to ruminate on the feeling of your hands gently rubbing his back, or the subtle weight in his lap, and the feeling of your hair against his skin. but god dammit, it's hard.

he’s struggling to keep his breathing regulated, taking short, shaky breaths, as he continues to hold onto you.

you take his hand, and place it over your beating heart. somewhere in the haze, you’re helping him hold onto you.

and he feels it. the steady, reassuring beats of your heart. the rhythm of blood pumping through your veins. he takes in the feeling, letting it wash over his senses. he can slowly feel the panic start to subside, his breaths coming out more regularly, at least for a moment. he can still faintly feel his heart pounding against his chest, and his breaths stuttering every now and again. he’s terrified that at any moment, the panic will take over again. he never wants to go back to that.

you take his face in your hands, making sure he’s listening. “nod if you can understand me.”

he nods, trying to focus on your words. the feeling of your hand on his face, and the touch of your forehead against his- it's grounding him. its helping him to calm down, and he's so fucking grateful for that. even though his legs are shaking, and he's still holding onto you desperately, he nods, letting you know that he's still conscious. he wasn’t gonna let this win. he was stronger than it. you made him stronger.

“feel around… you’re on the couch, your feet are on the ground. your hand is over my heart. you’re safe, katsuki.” you whisper.

he does as he's told. he feels the soft fabric of the couch under him. his feet and legs firmly planted on the ground, and can feel the warmth of your heart through your chest, and the way it's beating so steadily. he’s safe. he’s home. he’s with you.

you reassure him more, telling him he’s doing so good. and he is, evident by the way his breathing steadies down. after a few more minutes, his eyes blink open. and you couldn’t be happier.

“you back with me, kats?” you softly smile, seeing his red eyes lose their tears.

he sighs, burying his head into your shoulder. “yeah. i’m here.”

he’s embarrassed.

you stroke the back of his neck, letting him rest on you. he’s tired, and he’s scared. you know you have to address what caused this, but for now, you give him this grace of silence.

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whisper.

suddenly, the war turned into something much bigger. it wasn’t a just a battle, it was something that stayed with him for years. somewhere in the haze, he’s scared of betrayal. that soon, everyone will see through him. even he sees right through him.

“i don’t know where to start.” he quietly groans.

you nod, understanding. “just… tell me whats on your mind.”

he swallows again, his mind still fuzzy, trying to figure out what to say. theres just so much that he’s thinking about right now, but he knows he needs to tell you. he can’t keep bottling it all up. so after a few deep breaths, he finally speaks up.

"….i’m exhausted, babe.” he sighs, like he’s confessing to a crime. “everything’s been so goddamn stressful lately. work has been insane, and… i just feel like i can't catch a break. i just… i wish i had more time away from it. to just… i don't know. decompress."

it doesn’t fully articulate everything he’s feeling, but it does give you a good idea of where this is all coming from.

you sigh, stroking his cheek and pointing out the one thing he’s afraid to admit to himself.

“katsuki, you have trauma.” you say. “the war left its marks on you. you can’t just expect it all to go back to normal.”

he feels like he’s down in icy ground. he doesn’t want to admit how much its hurt him- but it has. all the kings horses and all the kings men couldn’t put him together again.

“…i didn’t think i’d survive this long.” he whisper. and it breaks your heart.

he’s unable to take back those words. it’s true. he didn’t think he would survive the war. he didn’t think he was going to make it out, and that’s exactly what he’d mentally prepared himself for. and now that he’s here, and the war is over…

he’s struggling to cope with that fact. he feels lost, unsure of how to deal with surviving.

“you survived.” you whisper. “you survived but now you’re at war with yourself.”

he nods slowly. that perfectly sums up his feelings. heMs not fighting villains anymore, but that doesn’t stop the war from going on inside of him.

he’s fighting the memories. the nightmares. the constant pressure of being a hero. the constant pressure of living up to everyone’s expectations.

and he’s scared he’ll lose that fight.

“the war took apart of you you’ll never get back.” you whisper. “but… healing isn’t about becoming the person you were before. its about accepting you’ll never fully understand it, and maybe never fully be okay with it.”

katsuki bites down on his bottom lip, your words sinking in his mind. that’s something he’s been struggling to accept for a while now- that he won’t ever just be the person he was before all of this. something about him has changed. permanently.

he nods slowly, your words slowly and gradually beginning to make him feel a little better. it’s so reassuring, having you there with him right now.

“you are a hero, and you are #1. that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to hurt. it happened to you and it hurt you. you’ll never heal if you pretend you weren’t wounded.” you whisper again. “just because you carry it well doesn’t mean its not heavy.”

your words hit him straight in the heart. you’re absolutely right. he’s never really stopped to consider that he doesn’t have to pretend to be strong, or that it’s okay to let those walls come down, even a little. he’s allowed to be vulnerable. he’s allowed to be hurt by what happened to him.

“i… i keep feeling like i’m constantly on that damn battlefield. i keep seeing it every time i’m alone. and i just… i haven’t slept properly in days.”

you nod, understanding.

“you aren’t your worst days. you aren’t what happened to you.” you remind him. honestly, he’s needed that reminder.

he hugs you tighter, like you’re the one thing keeping him afloat right now. he wonders who could possibly stay with him, let alone love him like you do.

“they ripped your heart out of your chest. no one gets to decide how much you bleed.” you tell him. because you see how much he’s trying to force the wound closed, burning himself and only worsening his pain. he hasn’t healed because he’s too scared of the hurt.

“…you really mean that?” he says, red eyes searching for lies.

he finds none, even as you nod and tell him you mean every word.

he isn’t sure what to say anymore. so when words fail, he cups your face and pressed two gentle kisses to your forehead. he survived the war, and now he will always be yours.

“i love you.” he whispers. “so damn much, idiot.”

you smile, his usual asshole-self back on the table. your arms throw around him, hugging him even tighter.

he realizes then that you could, and you will stay.

[pinkgy]

Hello, a new writing blog with great writing!

How about some NSFW headcanons for the paradise lost demons (whb)? I'm not sure if you write for them since the request rules don't really specify it, so feel free to just ignore this if you don't.

Have a nice day!

Hi Anon !

Yes, I do write for every character from every of the fandoms listed in my request post.

I’m sorry if my headcanons might lack a bit of accuracy or are not as specific as the ones I wrote for the kings, we don’t know much yet about the Paradise lost demons so I’m writing this based of on my opinion, some investigation and the little content we’ve seen in the game so far about them.

Hope you like it and thank you so much for your request♡

𝗪𝗛𝗕 !

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗘 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧

𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗖𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗡𝗦

GN!Reader + Reader has a pussy + Slight mentions of She/Her pronouns in Buer’s.

𝗖𝗪: Overstimulation, Edging, Dacryphilia, Shibari, Toys (Vibrators), Praising, Degradation, Blowjobs, Handjobs, Lingerie, Somnophilia.

𝗟𝗨𝗖𝗜𝗙𝗘𝗥

⇒ He's a Top without a doubt, there's no debating in this, he would get mad at you if you dared to suggest the idea of him being a sub.

⇒ Lucifer is actually pretty sweet, yes, he does a lot of questionable things while "pleasuring you" but he never does anything that hurt you too much, you have a safe word and many other ways where you can communicate to him any discomfort you might have and he Iso gives the best aftercare.

⇒ He's into shibari, this mostly because this way he can have you all to his mercy so he can toy with you for hours until your face is covered in tears.

⇒ He's the worst when he overstimulates you or when he edges you, by doing that he forgets any kind of limits you have set for him, you can beg him to stop, he won't, the more you cry, the more he does it. If he is eating your pussy while he aggressively thrusts his fingers in and out and you are sobbing and telling him to stop, he is going to do it faster, harder and way for aggresively.

⇒ There's no such a thing as normal sex with him, he's into a lot of shit, one crazier than the other, and he's also pretty good at analyzing you and he can figure out pretty quickly the things you like, and Lucifer will also be into those things.

⇒ "You say that it's too much ? Well, this cunt tells me overwise, and those beautiful tears all over your face don't seem to be out of pain, so don't lie to me and give me one more

𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗕𝗔𝗦

⇒ Marbas confuses me, he technically cant be freed from his restraints without Lucifers permission because his libido and violence are to dangerous for EVERYONE, but for the sake of this headcanon, lets say that he's not that bad when he's free. (ill include some headcanons where he's tied up tho, thats literally his kink)

⇒ Marbas is a Top, the fact that he's into being tied up does not means he subs, he definitely doesn't.

⇒ He would tie you up if you begged enough or as a punishment, but you better appreciate it, it doesn’t happen as often as you’d think.

⇒ He loves when you use toys on him while hes tied up, specially those wired bullet vibrators, he's soooo into being defenseless in front of you.

⇒ When he's tied up he loves being overstimulated, suck his dick nonstop or furiously rub it it up and down or play with his dick head, the sight of your face covered in his cum makes him go crazy.

⇒ But in spite of this headcanons, he tops, a l w a y s, you can have him tied up and ruining him with a bunch of bullet vibrators attached to his dick, he's dominating you somehow.

⇒ "Do i look that weak to you ? speed up that vibrator right fucking now or else im not fucking you"

𝗠𝗢𝗥𝗔𝗫

⇒ I don’t know why, but he gives switch vibes, but is leaning towards subbing.

⇒ Morax likes to be taken care of but not to the point of being a pillow prince.

⇒ Omg praise him please, he’ll become the whiniest boy out there, tell him how beautiful he is when he cums or how cute his moans are.

⇒ He’ll do anything for you, if you want him to completely submit to you, he will, and if you want him to fuck you senseless and completely rail you, he will, Morax is the definition of being into what you’re into.

⇒ As his kink says, he’s into body modifications, if you have one, he’ll go crazy, and if you don’t, that’s fine for him. But if you wanted to get one, even if it’s temporary, just to please him, you’ll drive him crazy, not because of the modification, but because of the intention.

⇒ “Just tell me, whatever you want me to do, just tell me, I’m yours, every part of me is your property, I’m here to please you and only you”

𝗕𝗨𝗘𝗥

⇒ He’s neither a dom nor a sub, but he’s not a switch, he just likes to feel good and likes to make you feel good, but he tends to get a bit dominant sometimes.

⇒ Wear fluffy lingerie, bonus points if it’s animal themed. (I don’t see him being into pet play tho, but who knows)

⇒ Buer is a box full of surprises, you never know his next move, he can be kissing you in the most romantic way possible, and then suddenly he’s spitting in your mouth.

⇒ Buer has something that makes me believe that he’s into somnophilia, but receiving it, he likes to challenge you to make him cum without waking him up, and the feeling of having his pants wet with his cum makes him go crazy.

⇒ He would love a pillow princess, to just please her and only her for hours, that’s a big fantasy of his.

⇒ “We have all the time in the world, so for this night and every night you want, so let me be the one that makes you feel the best you’ve ever felt”

[wangxianficrecs]

💙 Caught in 4k by KizuKatana

🔒💙 Caught in 4k

by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)

E, Series, WIP, 184k, Wangxian

Summary: A night-hunt goes wrong, and Wei Wuxian is scapegoated for the death of the Jiang Sect Leader and the destroyed core of the Jiang Sect Heir. As punishment, his core is taken and given to Jiang Cheng, and he is stripped of his cultivation credentials and expelled from the sect. What everyone forgot was that Wei Wuxian was wearing the standard issue body camera that each cultivator wore on training missions and high-risk night-hunts. Struggling to make ends meet, Wei Wuxian finds his way to Caiyi Town with the doctor who performed the surgery, a partial core still secretly in place. His application to work at Cloud Recesses is summarily rejected by the hard-edged Second Jade of Lan after an unfortunate initial encounter. But things change when someone hacks into the Jiang systems and releases the footage of what happened. Kay's comments: The series is still a WIP, but the main story is complete! I am so weak for Kizu's modern AUs with cultivation, they are great. Especially the world building and how the cultivation society might function in a modern AU shines in this story. Definitely not a story for fans of the Jiang family, but a story for everyone who wants to see some retribution for the things Wei Wuxian went through. Here, Jiang Fengmian dies during a night-hunt accident where Jiang Cheng's golden core gets destroyed and Madam Yu makes Wei Wuxian give his golden core to him, unfortunately for her, his body-cam is still filming everything. Wei Wuxian finds himself taken in by Wen Qing and her family and we get the sweetest found family and Dadxian vibes here and then meets Lan Wangji as well, who's highly judgemental at first but soon finds himself drawn to Wei Wuxian as well. This story really got it all, the drama, the horny, the softness, the restitution & humor. Excerpt: Still Wei Wuxian forced himself to at least try one last time. “You could also interview me. Have me talk to your best talisman experts,” Wei Wuxian said, forcing himself to keep the desperation out of his voice. “Interviews are scheduled based on receipt of proper credentials and references.” “I don’t have any, at least not right now. But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be a great teacher.” “No references, no interview.” “Come on. Look, ask me anything about talismans. You’re an experienced cultivator, right? So you must know enough to at least interview me to see if I know what I’m talking about.” “Simply ‘knowing about something’ is not sufficient. Our lecturers are renown cultivators, and masters in their fields. No references, no interview.” Wei Wuxian felt frustration well up in him, especially at the reminder that Lan Wangji didn’t see him as a cultivator. No one would, in his current condition. Why would they? He didn’t have a functional core, which was the main scale against which all cultivation efforts were measured. He thought he had done a good job of not getting his hopes up about the teaching position, but the suffocating feeling constricting his chest was calling him out for being a liar. He should have known better. Why did he never learn? Some people had luck on their said, but Wei Wuxian had never been one of them. “Right. Of course. Because it would be impossible for someone who wasn’t born to the fucking clan nobility to ever actually be good at something, and the cost of taking the mastery test makes sure that other people can’t do it!” Lan Wangji’s lips parted slightly, like he might say something, but his expression was as opaque and emotionless as before. Wei Wuxian didn’t need to sit around and listen to him defend the clan system. “Good to know that the Lan are just the same as all the other sects,” Wei Wuxian continued, his lips twisting into a sarcastic smile. “Thanks for making that clear.”

pov alternating, modern setting, modern with magic, yu ziyuan being an asshole, dysfunctional jiang family, jiang family bashing, canon divergence, golden core reveal, burial mounds ensemble as family, golden core transfer, golden core transfer fix-it, top lan wangji/bottom wei wuxian, dual cultivation, strangers to lovers, misunderstandings, meet ugly, families of choice, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[yaksha-lover]

Hey! How are you doing? I don’t know how dark you’re willing to go, but the angst brainrot is back and I guess I just need somewhere to ramble.

Sometimes I like to think about how the prefect’s super chill reactions to… well everything, could just be a carefully crafted facade. I mean, the students at NRC are kinda awful people, and I don’t doubt any weakness would be swarmed like vultures to a fresh corpse. And a magicless, naive person like Yuu would be an extremely easy target. So, instead they just bury all the pain and pretend everything is okay. They’re not crying for their family and home late into the night.

The way that kind of repression would just build up over the year and slowly cause resentment towards everyone, deserved or not, is just delicious. Pretending to be everyone’s friend, to be the kind and welcoming prefect while coming to hate the other students’ guts. The eventual snap after one misplaced comment or one more mess to deal with, when the house of cards all falls down.

Maybe Rollo was right.

Idk, just got a lot of thoughts. Mainly based off of how Rook calls the prefect “Trickster” and the prologue almost framed Yuu in a strategist role. Thoughts?

Honestly, it would make a lot of sense. As much as we love the boys, most of them would be pretty terrible to be around and are very selfish and/or mean (with some exceptions, but that’s still a good majority of the school).

I like the idea that Yuu does start out genuinely wanting to help everyone and find people to be friends with, to try and make this experience of being trapped in another world even somewhat bearable.

At first it’s okay that Ace is a jerk sometimes, because he comes around once you get to know him. It’s fine that Riddle nitpicks and punishes the three of you because in the end, he’s trying his best to get better, to heal from his past. It’s alright that Leona is unrepentant and mean, because he has things he’s been dealing with, and you need to be understanding of his pain. Even when Azul tricks your friends and later you, when you almost lose your Ramshackle, the one place you’ve had to call home, you try to have patience, because he’s got his own issues as well, he has his reasons for things.

But somewhere along the way, you’ve stopped caring for their excuses. Their trauma is real, but so is yours. Even after everything you’ve done to try and help them, you don’t doubt for a moment that none of them would run to your rescue. That they wouldn’t take any opportunity to step on and over you if it meant getting closer to their goals. Because at the end of the day, none of them cared, no matter how much you wanted to believe it wasn’t true.

Breaking down isn’t an option - not when everyone is out for themselves, when your feelings would surely only be ridiculed at best and taken advantage of at worst. Even more than that, you’re a guest at this school. You never earned your way here like the other students and you’re magicless; the only reason you’re even here are extenuating circumstances. The headmage isn’t any more loyal than the housewardens - if any of them had a problem with you, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine he’d throw you out onto the street the second you became an inconvenience that was too much work to handle. So you keep quiet, even when all you want is to tell off everyone around you.

The only housewarden to ever seem to really give a damn about you is Vil, but by the time you get close with him, it’s already too late. Maybe if you met him first, if you’d been less scorned, you could’ve forgiven his little digs at your lacklustre presence and imperfection. He’d done much to try and make up for it after all, helping you out with Ramshackle and voicing his appreciation for you. It was more than you could say for anyone else, but it still isn’t enough. Vil’s sweetness can’t counteract the bitter taste that’s been brewing for months, so you can’t bring yourself to forgive him despite everything.

It’s not his fault, but it’s never anyone’s fault. It’s all of them, chipping away at your sanity little by little.

It’s okay that you can never fall asleep anymore, kept awake by memories of never ending fights and catastrophes to deal with. It’s okay that the same people you’ve helped barely regard you as more than something worth pitying. It’s okay that you’re reminded every day that no effort is being put towards getting you away from this hellhole and back home.

It’s all okay, until it’s not. Until Yuu finally reaches their breaking point, and starts to question if anyone is truly worth saving at this school.

[yandere-wishes]

Okay so not an ask more of a Headcanon based on observation and the character he is based on, but I see Honest Fellow as someone who would both idolize/emulate and resent the rich. By his design his clothes, while they pay homage to Honest John with the patchwork pantleg and the misding pinky tip on his one glove seem very well-kempt, on top of that his hat and cane are practically emaculate that cane alone couldn't have been cheap though I wouldn't put it passed the sly fox man to have either swindled someone out of it or stole it from them outright. Point is I'm getting wants to be a rich man but hates the rich people vibes.

All of that is set-up for my headcanon that if he ever had a S/O you can bet he would get them jewelry and expensive clothes. Basically just adorn them in finery he had acquired through whatever means (cough, likely stolen or purchased with dirty money, cough) and proudly have them stand by his side. The thought to use them as a pretty little lure to catch even bigger fish might cross his mind, but I doubt he'd ever use them like that. Personally, I feel like he'd be to possessive to do that even if his darling wanted to help like that, after all what if he let's them go off alone and someone tries to take advantage of his poor darling? He doesn't think they're weak or foolish per say but who could protect them better than him? I think he'd have a difficult time even leaving them alone with Gidelle (only 90 percent sure I got that right), of course he trusts Gidelle, well as much as he can truly trust anyone anyway, but he's the brains of the outfit and unless he's personally by his darlings side he won't ever be truly assured something won't go wrong.

Let's say that darling isn't quite so understanding or compliant, his possessive side would certainly get worse. He can't leave them alone for one second qhat if they try and sneak off. Perhaps to save his pride he'd be a bit delusional, they're just a sweet little naive skittish thing that doesn't know any better, possibly they've never known a love as deep and unshakable as his, it's only natural there would be a learning curve for them and who better than he to teach them? I highly doubt he'd ever use physical punishments on his darling, probably doesnt like punishing them as he thinks they are just still learning, but that doesn't mean he won't find other ways to punish them if necessary. I do think if they actively tried to run he wouldn't waste a minute getting something along the lines of a necklace with a chain, something fashionable but functional as a reminder while they're learning, if that reminder isn't enough though he might go for a bejeweled pet collar and leash. If all else fails isolation in a secure location with him as their only source of human, or well beastman, contact would certainly allow them to see how much they needed each other. Whatever he has to do to make them understand it'll all be worth it later once they're settled and he can spoil them like they deserve.

TLDR: Honest Fellow would love to lavish his S/O in (possibly ill-gotten) finery and would actively and proudly show them off on his arm. Everyone can look and admire, but only he is allowed to touch.

This has got to be the most effort anyone has ever put into something they sent in my ask box!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!

Okay so right off the bat let me say that YES!! This is canon I don't care what anyone says.

I can see him as "wanting what they have" but "not wanting to be them". Essentially he wants the ability to give his darling the best of everything. Yet still ultimately preserving his own "personality". Like you said Fellow hates the rich. They're insufferable, self-absorbed and loathsome, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't crave the glitz and glammer.

Now I can kinda see Fellow only really interacting with his darling at first to use her as bait. Winning her over with expensive gifts and pretty cloths (all from dirty money ofc) and sure darling does start to fall for his tricks. But here's the thing, the moment his darling begins to show the tinest interest in him Fellow FALLS HARDER!! All of a sudden he doesn't want ANYONE near his darling! Just him only him. Sooner or later his darling will start to feel suffocated, she'll be desperate to get away from him. Forsaking the pretty presents and charming "boyfriend" for just a moment of freedom. But Fellow's a sly fox, always one step ahead. He knows how to ensnare his darling before she's even run away.

Overall Fellow will lavish you, treat you like a queen, getting you anything you desire (through underhanded means) but you'll never be allowed to leave him. Forever trapped by his side on the island of pleasure…

Quick question is Fellow meant to be the same age as the third years or is he older??

[zaebeecee]

Fight and Flight ••

Pre-RadioDust Oneshot •

Read on AO3

•••

Based on this headcanon from @alastorsfluffydeertail. Thank you for letting me use this as a prompt, my dear, and I’m sorry I took it a bit off the rails (as I am wont to do). This is what I get for never planning anything out.

But also if anyone thinks the Hazbin Hotel residents wouldn’t prank each other, they’re wrong.

•••

When Angel Dust had first agreed to move into the Hazbin Hotel (back when it was the Happy Hotel, whose name alone was almost enough to make him refuse no matter how well he was paid for the evening), it was the first time in his entire existence in Hell that he had known exactly what to expect. The princess had a fucking stupid plan about getting sinners into Heaven and her bodyguard/girlfriend/what the fuck ever was apparently determined to help her see it out; Angel knew a hopeless cause when he saw one, and more importantly, he knew how to capitalize on it.

Of course, he had forgotten one very key detail: sinners were human at their core, and when humans spent a lot of time in close proximity, they got to know each other really well. And when people got to know each other really well, that meant bonding was basically unavoidable.

It was easy to forget the ‘human’ factor of sinners at VoxTek, particularly when someone spent too much time around the Vees. Sometimes, Angel thought of them as less ‘humans’ and more ‘evil entities that had learned how to mimic the worst of human behavior with extra capitalism’, and because of that he had kept company with them as little as possible since Valentino had showed his true colors and backhanded Angel for the very first time. But the Hazbin Hotel was not VoxTek, and the other residents of the hotel were not the Vees. They were mostly relatively normal people, when you put aside things like noble station and overlord rank, and that complicated Angel’s initial plan.

Originally, he had agreed simply to take advantage of not having to pay rent and not having to live under Val’s thumb at all times. It was a simple scheme: follow just as many rules as he absolutely had to in order to avoid getting kicked out, keep as much of his drug usage off the property as he could, and bat his eyes and make super sappy apologies about ‘trying his best’ whenever he got caught. It would have gone great if not for one tiny little hiccup.

He liked them.

Damn them to a lower ring of Hell, but Angel liked the fuckers, and it wasn’t long before he realized that they were becoming friends. Of course, they were also a bunch of pricks who’d been punished with eternal damnation for the crime of being assholes in life, so with friendship came the inevitable bullshit of having asshole friends. This, frequently, meant pranks of varying degrees of severity and creativity.

In Angel’s defense, he didn’t start it. The whole thing began when someone (who was never actually identified) convinced all of the Egg Bois that they were named after different members of the Rat Pack (to go with Frank) and that Pentious really loved being serenaded with ‘Ain’t That A Kick In The Head’ at all times. It had started out kind of funny—the Egg Bois couldn’t keep time with each other and it got even worse when they tried to manufacture their own Dean Martin impersonations—but it had quickly grown into the absolute worst thing Angel had ever had the displeasure to suffer. Husk, accurately, determined that it was “proof of Hell’s eternal punishment”. Eventually, Charlie helped Pentious right them, but it was way, way too late.

The war was on, and it quickly spread to everyone in the hotel without mercy. And, unpredictably, it seemed everyone was in on the game in one capacity or another.

Everyone had their own weak points when it came to getting ‘punk’d’, as Vaggie called it with an impressively straight face. Charlie could be convinced of just about anything if you said it with enough conviction, and Husk was alarmingly easy to gaslight if you could rearrange or abscond with his bar equipment when he wasn’t looking. Niffty was, of course, weak to cleaning pranks (but they had quickly determined the Stabbing Threshold, which was the point where it wasn’t funny anymore and she would legitimately gut someone), and you could do a million things to Pentious if you got into his lab, as long as you didn’t break anything. Angel was particularly proud of the time he got Vaggie to fully arm herself and go all the way up onto the roof of the hotel to ‘challenge an intruder’ who ended up being a hellsquirrel, but she had gotten him back by coming into the kitchen while he was cooking, staring him dead in the eye, and breaking all of the spaghetti before he could stop her.

And Alastor? Well, no one could get into his room, or his radio tower, or even find him if he didn’t want to be found, which rendered him immune to most forms of planned tomfoolery. But when he was there? He was easy, because he was a jumpy fucker if you caught him off guard, and a single loud noise close enough behind him would send him shadow teleporting onto some other surface (the mantle of the lobby fireplace on one particularly memorable occasion).

It was fun. Or, at least, it was supposed to be fun. That was why they had a set number of rules: no staining anything Niffty had to clean (and no glitter, which was a personal rule for Angel after that one time), no making Charlie cry, no breaking Pentious’s equipment or Husk’s bottles, no fucking with Vaggie’s weapons and armor, and absolutely nothing involving Fat Nuggets. Other than that, it was open season on everyone.

Charlie was conducting one of her little trust building exercises one evening, the entire hotel (sans Alastor) her captives for the duration of the entire exercise. Cherri had made the mistake of showing up just before it began, and curiosity had roped her in; now, she was sitting next to Angel and watching Charlie coaching Vaggie and Husk through some kind of role playing exercise with an open sort of fascination.

“Is it always like this?” Cherri murmured, leaning on Angel’s shoulder.

“Yeah,” Angel whispered back. “I got no fuckin’ idea how this’s supposed to get us redeemed, tho, all it’s ever done is made me hate kids.”

Cherri snorted. “Why isn’t Radio Face here?”

Angel rolled his eyes. “He’s the hotelier,” he said, exaggerating Alastor’s transatlantic delivery and overly precise French pronunciation. “He don’t gotta participate, apparently, because he ain’t up for bein’ made better or whatever. Come to think of it, I ain’t seen him in a few days. Think he’s been out.”

Like Angel had spoken a cue, the radio on the lobby table made gentle static noises, and a couple of the lights flickered, just slightly. Everyone stopped, glancing around, because that meant one thing: Alastor was nearby, and he was either very angry or very tired, and either way it meant he wasn’t checking his power as much as he usually did. It had freaked Angel out the first time, but eventually, he learned to interpret it as a sign that Alastor was returning after a long bout of ‘personal business’ and probably wasn’t going to be bothering any of them.

Cherri grinned. “I’m gonna fuck with him,” she said into the silent room.

Angel let out a single barking laugh as Charlie said, “Oh, no, don’t, he’s probably exhausted.”

“That’s the best time to get him,” Husk said reasonably, immediately discarding the script he’d had thrust on him as soon as he noticed that Charlie wasn’t focusing on him anymore. “He’ll probably be too tired to actually retaliate.”

“Besides,” Pentious said, “he hasn’t exactly held back with anyone else. I’m still positive he started this. I just need to prove it,” he hissed, hunching over his clasped hands and rubbing them together.

Niffty patted the table with her palms a few times, grinning brightly. “I wanna see Cherri scare Alastor~”

“You can’t scare Alastor,” Angel said with a disbelieving snort. “Startle him, sure, but scare? Bullshit.”

Vaggie sighed. “Do I need to prepare damage control?”

“Relax, I’m not gonna cause property damage,” Cherri said. “I just wanna get the bitch back for what he did to my stuff last time I was here. I’m still finding ticker tape everywhere, even in my own goddamn apartment.”

Charlie looked uncomfortable, but of course, she was always the most hesitant when it came to their petty little game. “Okay, I guess that’s fine,” she said reluctantly. “But don’t overdo it, okay?”

Everyone waited with bated breath, Cherri tossing a small bomb over to the corner near the front door. It was only a few seconds before they heard the click and Alastor stepped in, looking as though he had been through the wringer and was doing his damndest to hold it together. He didn’t even notice any of them, shutting the door behind him and immediately beginning a slow beeline for the stairs.

Angel had only half a second to form the thought that it might not be a great idea after all when Cherri clapped her hands sharply and the little bomb behind Alastor went off with a loud crack and a spark of bright pink light. The sound Alastor made wasn’t quite a scream; it was really more of a startled yip, a high and animalistic noise that hurt Angel’s ears with its sharp edge. He bolted instantly, dropping his microphone staff along the way and running blindly straight into a wall. There was a loud impact as he collided with the immovable structure of the hotel, the sound a little weird and followed by a series of loud yelps. Almost immediately, everyone could see exactly what happened: in his alarm, Alastor’s antlers had expanded, and they were now stuck pretty firmly in the wall.

Cherri was the first one who laughed, but she wasn’t the only one. Angel had to admit, it was funny, watching the big bad Radio Demon struggle to unstick himself from a wall, of all things. The laughter was contagious, spreading through the group in a rippling wave. In moments, the only one who wasn’t laughing was Charlie, who dropped her own script pages and ran straight over to try and help Alastor liberate himself.

Angel leaned forward as Cherri slapped his back in her laughter, and he rubbed a tear of mirth out of his eye, looking over to where Charlie was failing to even approach the struggling overlord. Angel watched as he took a swipe at her with a clawed hand, ineffectually scrabbling at the wall with the other and kicking the baseboard in an attempt to extricate himself without retracting his antlers.

The moment Angel heard Alastor’s distressed keening noise, he realized Alastor couldn’t retract his antlers. He wasn’t just exhausted, he was panicking and…

Humiliated.

Angel jumped to his feet, guilt smothering his amusement like a bucket of water on a birthday candle. “Shut the fuck up!” he yelled over everyone’s cackling, his unusually sharp tone enough to startle all of them into a silence that highlighted the way Alastor’s breathing had become high and far too fast. Angel didn’t bother with any admonishment, instead running over to where the other sinner had trapped himself and taking Charlie by the shoulders. “Move,” he said, not taking his eyes off Alastor.

She looked up at him. “But— but he’s—!”

“I got it. Move.” As Charlie backed off, Angel approached, trying to put himself in Alastor’s line of sight. His sclera had gone entirely black and his smile was tight and stressed; Angel couldn’t actually see, but he was pretty sure Alastor’s irises had turned into radio dials. “Hey, Alastor,” he said gently, immediately bending backwards as the overlord took a vicious swipe at him, too. “Whoa, whoa, big guy, it’s okay.”

When Alastor put both of his hands on the wall and ineffectually shrugged with a cry that was almost pathetic, Angel took the opportunity to swoop in, hoping Alastor’s physiology was as close to human as it looked and that this didn’t get him gutted. He pushed one hand up into Alastor’s hair from his nape, cradling the back of his head with his palm and gently pressing his fingers into the bases of Alastor’s antlers. A second hand cupped the back of Alastor’s neck, thumb and forefinger immediately seeking out the pressure points at the base of his skull. His third hand went to Alastor’s back, stroking down his spine before lifting and repeating the motion as though he was trying to calm a stressed animal. And his fourth hand just rested on Alastor’s shoulder, primarily so he would feel it if the Radio Demon lashed out and could attempt to evade if necessary.

“Hey, Smiles, it’s okay, it’s just me,” Angel said as soothingly as he could when he felt Alastor’s muscles growing so taut that he feared the other demon would snap into pieces. “Shh, it’s okay, ain’t nobody in here gonna give you any shit, I promise. And if they try, I’ll kill ‘em for you, or at least hold ‘em down while you kill ‘em, okay?”

Angel kept up his gentle touches, leaning close to murmur low enough that only Alastor could hear him, and silently marveled at the fact that he was touching Alastor and Alastor was letting him. His hair was soft, and his coat was clearly made from expensive material, but even through the thick cloth Angel’s fingers could have counted his ribs and each individual vertebrae. And slowly, in response to his touch, Alastor actually began to relax. His breath slowed, his smile grew less tense, and with a crackle of broken plaster, his antlers slowly began to recede.

“You can rip everybody up into tiny pieces, and then I’ll help ya make jambalaya or gumbo or whatever you want outta their bits. Or I can make bolognese outta them. Whatever you’re feelin’.” That was enough to get the smallest noise of amusement from Alastor, more of a huff of breath than anything else, but with that his antlers returned to their usual shape.

As he finally freed himself from the wall, Angel made to release him, but Alastor spun to face him at an alarming speed and seized him by his upper arms. “Alastor—?!” Angel’s voice was a soft exclamation, but he froze, watching Alastor hang his head and regain control of his ragged and pained breathing.

Angel was anticipating having his arms ripped straight from his body—nobody touched Alastor, especially not when he wasn’t expecting it—but Alastor just held onto him like he was genuinely afraid Angel was about to disappear. His grip wasn’t even painful, just tight. Desperate, maybe, though with his panic gone Angel couldn’t begin to understand why. But even as he held onto Angel’s arms, Alastor’s wicked claws didn’t so much as scratch him, and his hands… they were soft.

It felt like an hour passed before Alastor’s breathing evened out, but Angel knew it was only a few seconds. Slowly, Alastor raised his head to look up at Angel, his ears laid flat against his head and his eyes wide, but no longer manic. Before, Angel had always associated Alastor’s eyes with the color of blood, but this close… they were more like deep garnet set into rich ruby. For the eyes of a mass murdering serial killer, they were almost alarmingly warm as they caught Angel’s gaze and held it.

“…thank you, Angel.”

The words were spoken so quietly Angel wouldn’t have heard them if Alastor hadn’t been mere inches from him. Before he could even consider formulating a response, the shadows Alastor so fondly called his friends swirled up from the ground, wrapping around his body and pulling him into blackness. It was his hands that pulled away last, gently releasing Angel’s arms and leaving trails with fingertips that made the spider’s flesh tingle. For the briefest moment, Alastor’s shadow remained, and Angel thought it was watching him with something that felt like wary curiosity before it too vanished.

Angel stared at the broken wall and the plaster that littered the carpet as Charlie stormed back to the group, lighting into them for being mean and immediately beginning to lay new ground rules, but Angel barely heard a word she said. He folded his arms and placed his hands where Alastor’s had been moments before, like he could still feel the other sinner holding onto him like a lifeline, and marveled at his own foolishness.

When, he wondered, had he started caring this much about Alastor’s wellbeing? When had Alastor decided that Angel Dust of all people was worthy of breaking his five foot rule, even in such extraordinary circumstances? When had Angel determined it was worth risking his own health and safety to prevent Alastor from hurting himself?

And, most importantly, what was he doing thinking about Alastor at all?

•

The next evening, Angel was in his bedroom cleaning his toys when a dome of shadow manifested on his floor mere feet away from him. He squealed in alarm, launching himself backwards and tumbling off the other side of his bed to land in a graceless heap on his floor. Swearing he could hear something giggling somewhere around him, he grabbed his comforter and hauled himself up, leaning on the mattress with his arms and peering around suspiciously.

The shadow was gone, and Angel didn’t see any threats or blood or threatening animal corpses. He did, however, see a plate sitting on his floor. That plate held a stack of some kind of pastries and a folded card with his name on it.

“…the fuck…” Angel muttered, clambering over his bed and hopping down to land beside the plate. Upon closer inspection, he realized that the plate was full of freshly-baked beignets, generously covered with powdered sugar and still so warm that the sugar was beginning to melt. He picked up the card and looked at the delicate penmanship spelling out ‘Angel Dust’, then flipped it open, taking in the simple message written so beautifully.

Tell no one. You know what will happen if you do.

Angel felt himself actually smiling in a way that he hadn’t for a very long time, folding the card again and pressing the corner to his lips. He considered for a moment, then glanced at a nearby shadow. “You can tell him I ain’t gonna let anybody know he baked somethin’ for me like a sweetheart.” He didn’t see Alastor’s shadow, but he heard another giggle and he knew it was there.

He picked up the plate and carried it to his bed, opening his bedside table drawer and slipping the note in with a few other belongings that he didn’t want anyone else seeing but liked having on hand. As he laid on his bed, petting Fat Nuggets and nibbling on delicious baked goods and texting with Cherri about how Alastor had apparently gotten into her apartment and hidden all of her explosive components around the city, leaving only a very obtuse list of scavenger hunt-style clues… Angel wondered if he was starting to remember what being happy felt like.

•••

[monodramatic-cannibal]

Renegade!Cross

Info post about the au

(If characters seem OOC ((Out Of Character)) it's beacause I'm going off of my own interpretations/headcanons/fandom versions. So please be aware of that)

More info under the cut (Info is subject to change at any time. Info may be added to as well)

(TW: Child abuse I don’t go into too much detail, but I will warn for it anyway)

-Jobs in the group: Protection of the base, fighting Wraiths, scouting 

Weapons of choice: Great sword (like monster hunter levels of big ass sword), duel blades

-Head canon voice: ???

-Uses He/Him mainly, but also They/Them, identifies as a Demiboy

-Didn’t have the best childhood, and a lot of things carried over to his adulthood. He was also raised alongside (X!Tale)Chara. They were both raised by (X!Gaster), but don’t consider him a parent figure, as they both know he doesn’t deserve that title.

-Before the apocalypse he was a royal guard, and when the apocalypse started he travelled around on his own for quite a while. He was able to survive as he is highly trained in combat. He got by with what little he could scavenge.

-He wears the leg armour of his royal guard outfit, as that was all he grabbed of that outfit when he left the area when the apocalypse hit. He’s always debated on going back for the rest of it, since having armour would be nice, but he now doesn’t want to  leave the group and his home is quite far. 

-The wounds/red eye on him were caused by an incident as he was working as a royal guard. Happened when he was more of a rookie. (Xtale!)Chara a bit after the fact makes fun of him for the wounds, mainly just so they could make light of the situation.  

-Has some abandonment issues, it has gotten better for him as he’s grown up, but he still can get attached to people quite quickly. To add to this, when the apocalypse hit and he got separated from (X!)Chara it made him panic and spent a lot of his time trying to find or get in contact with Chara, later on he found the group. He still hasn’t forgotten about Chara, and keeps his phone fully charged and on him at all times just in case Chara gets back in contact with him. 

-Nightmare was the one who found him first from the group, Nightmare ended up stumbling upon him, at first they both were on guard, since they hadn’t expected to run into anyone. But Dream ended up breaking the situation as soon as he showed up. He and Nightmare must have had a stand-off for about 20-30 seconds before Dream butted into it.

-He got pretty attached to Night nearly right away, he liked Dream as well. Thinks Night’s mellow but goofy attitude is better suited towards himself though. He also at first saw Night as weak (though he’d never say that to him), so got a sense to protect him due to Night being very small and not much of a fighter.

-Will hide food, normally food that's in packets. This is partly due to his bad childhood and it's a habit he can’t stop, since he was denied food in his childhood as a punishment. Tends to hide food in places he frequents, e.g. his own room, Nightmare’s/Dream’s/Blue’s room, and a few places around the living areas and on lower levels where the others don’t frequent.

-Wakes up at an ungodly hour, started when he was a kid, so he could get ready and be out the house to get away from (X!)Gaster, but continued to adulthood due to his job as a royal guard. To add to this he goes to sleep quite early as well. These habits have continued even in the apocalypse.

-Is kinda awkward and shy, though how awkward he is normally overshadows his shyness. Since he didn’t interact with too many people growing up, and as an adult his job didn’t really have him talking to other guards other than on break or for a task he still hasn’t really figured out how to interact with others. Everyone else in the group also has degrees of awkwardness too, so he’s lucky in that regard that most in the group won’t call him out on it.

-Has the strength to lift up a bus (like how he can in canon). But is aware of his strength so is always extra gentle when physically interacting with people. 

-A weeb, has started hoarding manga, movies, etc that is anime/manga related. This also includes stealing any anime/manga merch he sees too. Will often bother the others to help him take stuff back or find stuff for him while they’re out.

-Is dyslexic,can get frustrated if his brain isn’t computing with the words. Didn’t have any interest in reading as a kid, so it’s something he has to work on in adulthood. Will often use translated manga to practice reading.

But when it comes so subtitled anime he gets a little annoyed because he can’t read the subtitles quick enough most of the time, so tries to look for dubs, even if he doesn’t like the voice acting.

-Scared of cows. Has once screeched loudly when on a scavenging mission with a few members of the group and he ran into a cow statue that was around a corner. No one will let him live it down now.

-Has basically been riding off one compliment for most of his life. Will explode if someone gives him a compliment/praise. Also seems to get spooked by compliments/praise too, because he’s not used to it. 

-Talks a lot, is a professional yapper. Hates silence and has to fill it with random thoughts that come to mind, may accidentally tell things to people that he doesn’t want them to know, e.g. accidentally told Dream he has a crush on Night. If he thinks someone wants him to shut up he will go completely quiet and not really say anything. If someone actually tells him to shut up it's the same idea, but he gets super awkward and will refuse to speak for a few hours.

-Has fangs, and almost dog/shark like teeth. He used to bite people when he was a kid, is still willing to bite others as an adult. Has once bitten someone as an adult, during combat, nearly took a chunk out of their arm. 

-Will pet any stray dog he sees. Has probably nearly been bitten several times. But he can’t help it, he likes dogs a lot. Has never considered getting one though.

-Is pretty open to wearing whatever clothing. Normally prefers something that's tight on his arms though, which he uses his gloves for that. So when choosing what to wear he likes to make sure he can wear his elbow length gloves.

-Also has to wear some form of gloves since he has a habit of biting his knuckles, so having gloves protects his hands somewhat. He just bites his hand subconsciously. 

-Keeps regular upkeep on his weapons and what pieces of armour he has. Basically does this every day, even though he doesn’t really need to, as it’s not like those things are being used everyday, but he still does it anyway, as he doesn’t like deviating from his routine. 

-Shit at cooking, he does have a few things he can make, and what he can make tastes really good, but everything else is terrible.

How they feel about:

Nightmare: His emotions are a bit all over the place when it comes to Nightmare. He does adore him though, and has a crush on him. But is unsure about this crush since he’s unsure if Nightmare feels the same. Often wants to protect him and not really leave his side. But knows Nightmare won’t be able to cope with him being so clingy so does make sure to give him time to himself.

Dream:  Likes him, and gets along well with him. Appreciates the fact Dream hasn’t told Nightmare about his crush on him. The two often hang out together, and he will often help Dream out with things if he isn’t busy. Half the time when they do hang out Ink and Blue are included, or they hang with Nightmare, on rare occasions they all hang out together, if they can convince Nightmare to be social.

Blue: Knew him before the apocalypse, as Blue was training to be a royal guard. Helped him train whenever he had time.Can get along with him well. Blue would also share food with Cross sometimes, since Cross is kinda shit at cooking. They often still train together even during the apocalypse, to keep their skills sharp.

Ink: Gets along with them and is often trying to make sure Ink doesn’t get into any trouble/harm. Thinks Ink needs to think more before they do stuff. Ink keeps trying to teach him to draw, but he sucks at it, tries anyway. Ink is always telling him he needs to loosen up a bit and just go with the flow of things. Which Cross always tells Ink that’s a terrible idea.

Dust: Super unsure of him, knows he’s killed people, and doesn’t really like him for that fact. But Nightmare also gets along with him, BUT he’s worried Dust might hurt Nightmare. Just super unsure and conflicted with how he feels about him. Dust has also done nice things for him, such as gifting him anything anime/manga related he finds while out. Which puts Cross’s feelings to being even more conflicted about him.

Horror: Unsure of him but prefers him to the other two in the MTT. Horror is relatively chill and polite, and will sometimes give leftover food to him (Cross) whenever he’s made a lot of food. The food is winning Cross over to liking him. Bonus points that Horror also has a cute kitten.

Killer: Doesn’t like him. Killer is often teasing him any chance he gets. Which annoys Cross. Killer will also steal food from his stashes, which annoys Cross to no end especially if it’s chocolate that's stolen.  Killer also teases him involving Nightmare into the teasing one way or another, either it be teasing Cross on how protective he is over Nightmare, or trying to keep Nightmare from Cross. Cross also thinks Killer is the one most likely to hurt Nightmare out of the MTT.

Error: Unsure on Error, can sort of get along with him when he’s (Error) in a good mood, but often times them interacting consists of Error asking what he wants from him then telling him to go away. 

Lust: Gets along with them. Lust helps him repair clothing if it gets ripped. Will often bring little gifts for Lust such as jewelry as thanks for things Lust does for him, since Lust doesn’t leave the living area so doesn’t get to collect things outside. 

Fell/Edge: Doesn’t mind him but has snapped at him once, he just doesn’t like Fell’s attitude. He did apologize eventually about snapping at him, but also held a slight grudge that Fell didn’t apologize for his attitude back. Just thinks Fell needs to watch what he says and he’d get along with him just fine.

Geno: Doesn’t understand Geno. Is unsure why Geno even sticks around the group, since Geno appears to not get along with many people. Just concludes Geno is sticking around strictly for survival. Geno towards him is sort of okay, wouldn’t call them friends, but not enemies either.

Outer: Hasn’t really interacted too much with him, but what little interactions they’ve had he’d say that they get along. 

Sci: Hasn’t really interacted too much with him, but what little interactions they’ve had he’d say that they get along. Can’t wrap his head around half the stuff that comes out of Sci’s mouth though. 

Reaper/Death: Is genuinely confused when it comes to Reaper, he can understand why Reaper is there, but also doesn’t understand why he’s here at the same time. Like just kill Geno and get it over with??? But like at the same time he doesn’t really wish death upon Geno, so it’s like he doesn’t want Reaper to kill Geno. Just thinks it’s wild that a literal grim reaper is hanging out with everyone.

Fresh: Hasn’t met him yet, but has been warned by both Dream and Nightmare to try not to be around him, their reasoning is he gives off a bad vibe, won’t admit it to the twins, but he’d give Fresh a chance, since yeah he's also weird, who isn't at this point.

Gans/Echo: Has only met him twice, once when Dream and Nightmare were showing him around they stopped by the radio room where Echo was, and another time when Outer asked him for a favor, and it was to drop some stuff off at the radio room for Echo. Both times went well, but he has a feeling Echo isn’t too interested in him.

Chief: Has met him before the apocalypse, due to Chief being in the royal guard. When they met again in the group they ended up catching up, they get along and may sometimes train together. He thinks Chief can be a bit bossy and rude though, but other than that he sort of gets along with him, he wouldn’t call them friends though.

[acequinz]

The agony of Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian's relationship is that neither could forge a strong base to the relationship they wanted.

Wei Wuxian was raised to be Jiang Cheng's servant, even if JFM favoured him there were no illusions that he was to be a carer for Jiang Cheng and that's what Wei Wuxian continued to be.

And that's what Jiang Cheng let him be, even if he had wanted a deeper more emotional relationship with Wei Wuxian his insecurities and resentment towards Wei Wuxian resulting from the treatment of his parents was too strong to let him form the base that Wei Wuxian had with Jiang Yanli.

Because Wei Wuxian didn't get punished if he out-performed Jiang Yanli, because JYL did not get berated every time WWX did something she could not.

They could never ever be on equal footing under these conditions for the base to be stable. It's always either WWX below JC for his background or JC below WWX for their skill set.

WWX genuinely cared for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng seemed to care for him too, now of course their morality is in different places so they were bound to separate.

Jiang Cheng is first and foremost bound to his sect and his parents. He would not care what happens to others as long as he could keep his sect upright and not be in danger even if it means to bow his head in places he shouldn't.

Wei Wuxian was first and foremost bound to doing what he thinks is morally right and then caring for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He would always do his best for both the Jiang heirs but he would not sacrifice his morality for anyone.

This combined with their overall weak base for the relationship? Of course it would fall apart.

This is not to say there wasn't love. But love is not enough. I am afraid love is never enough unless you bring in understanding into the relationship which WWX and JC couldn't have.

They could never understand each other without letting go of the bitterness.

In the end letting go of each other was the best option.

Because it finally freed them of the barrier of what they were meant to be, WWX as JC's servant and JC as WWX'S master.

I don't think either actually ever wanted that but they went along with it because that's what everyone around them pushed for it to be.

Maybe they wanted to be real brothers but the resentment due to outside source could never allow them to cross the bridge especially once it was out of the picture. (The bridge being JYL of course. She went to live her own life and they fell apart and even then she tried to fix things and lost it all and somehow still stayed loving till the end, god I fucking love her.)

I do love Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian and the complicated relationship they have but I honestly prefer the way it ended with them going their own ways, no longer bound to the painful strings that were repeatedly used to hurt them and each other.

They are free, hopefully Jiang Cheng finally let's go of it as well and lives his life in the present. Lead his sect no longer clinging to the shadow of WWX and agonizing over it, have some bonding time with JL because let's be honest JL is doing somehow better than JC in handling his emotions except that one stab. He's his momma's son but he could still use some bonding time since he has to be sect leader very young too, my poor kid.

Wei Wuxian has definitely let go already, he did everything he could and gave up because everything he tried failed and only caused him more pain. So it's okay if he gives up. Let him roam around with the person who understands and indulges him now. Having weird kinky sex anywhere, everywhere and everyday, he deserves it.

Maybe it's just because there's not enough people actually letting go of their toxic families trope in Asian shows but fuck this really hits the spot. It's okay to leave and go your separate ways when you know you could possibly never fix it or get over the pain and being near only causes more pain. So yeah Wei Wuxian choosing to leave seems great to me.

[antianakin]

@theneutralmime

I imagine you could PROBABLY interpret it either way since, like you mention, they're not SUPER explicit about what the Jedi do or do not know about Anakin's past aside from Obi-Wan telling Ahsoka about it in TCW.

But I think it seems unrealistic to assume the Jedi DON'T know about Anakin's past. There's a lot of Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's report to the Council we don't get to see and ten years of Anakin's apprenticeship that never gets explored. I find it pretty unlikely that Obi-Wan would know (either because Qui-Gon explained it at some point during TPM we don't get to see or because Anakin explains it post-TPM) and not pass that information along to at least the Council.

I think whether the Jedi treat everyone the same or make exceptions for special circumstances would likely vary based on the situation. For example, Anakin is clearly expected to follow the same rules and guidelines as any Jedi, he has to follow the Code, and he has clearly been taught the no attachments/possession rule. BUT, we do also see the Council be RELATIVELY lenient towards him when he pushes back against them during TCW in particular. He doesn't tend to get much more than a verbal slap on the wrist for things like making the entire Council wait for HOURS as he plays house with Padme instead of reporting to them when they call. Mace and Yoda both advise Obi-Wan to be more lenient towards him in AOTC, to let him make his own mistakes and learn from them. Yoda tells him in season 6 that it is his spontaneity that makes him different from other Jedi and that this is a strength, not a weakness. In that same arc, Yoda has a vision of sorts where he literally has to "save Anakin from falling." So I think you could argue that the Jedi ARE aware that Anakin's upbringing makes him different and that they DO make allowances for it where possible, but that they also expect him to follow the same general guidelines and rules as any other Jedi.

You could make the argument that this is how they handle everyone, we see them be fairly lenient towards Ahsoka, as well, right up until she gets accused of a serious crime and they can't just handle the issue internally. The Jedi ALWAYS make allowances for people, they ALWAYS make allowances for differences between their members that require different kinds of support rather than strict punishment and enforcement of uniformity. So you could say the Jedi DO treat him like everyone else because they treat EVERYONE individually since you never really know what specific kind of support each person is going to need, it's not necessarily always going to be the same and it's not going to be the same all the time even for the same person either. The Jedi adjust for EVERYONE and so while they might have to make slightly more or slightly different adjustments for Anakin than they've made for other initiates/padawans before him, they wouldn't be unused to the concept of making adjustments IN GENERAL. Ahsoka herself was raised by a loving family until she was brought to the Jedi and raised pretty normally among the Jedi, but we see them make adjustments for her, too. She's allowed to become a padawan earlier than usual due to her being advanced for her age. So this is just... what the Jedi DO.

[nikoisme]

i get what you mean about zeus in god games, i think generally it all boils down to “there is only so much time we have for each song”, but of course there are ways to work around that, probably, and i think if even he has his own song as an extension of god games, we could have had a bit more build up to his eventual actions

personally, i’m not overly salty about it, but i know i may be bias because i like the ending of the song a lot and have very mixed opinions on zeus. i also haven’t read the odyssey so i can’t comment on the fact it plays out differently in the musical. what i will say, if we look at this action in the contained context of the musical - okay, so, zeus likes to do choices, right. he gives odysseus the choice in thunder bringer and he seems to be relatively fair with it? (okay, not, like, it’s not really fair but in line with all the other gods we see in the musical, it makes sense, i guess?). and then here he does give athena a choice again, the other gods or him. and i think he hoped she’d choose them and lose. i think he just wanted to be entertained, and then she’d give in. but she doesn’t, she does this seemingly impossible thing, convinces them all, all for the sake of a mortal man.

and if kindness is weakness, if ruthlessness is mercy, then such a feat is something unnatural to zeus. how can his own, perfect daughter be willing to fight so desperately for a man who has (in the eyes on several gods) violated the will of the gods? she won, fairly, yes, but she wasn’t supposed to. she shouldn’t have wanted to. so, yeah, zeus still overreacts, but i think it’s sort of, like, that’s his daughter. and he can’t handle that she’d align herself with a mortal and he needs to punish her, somehow, because that is something the gods cannot do. i mean, athena initially rejected ody for his “weakness”, she probably got that mentality from her dad

all that is to say, yeah i do think zeus is still a bit over-the-top-villainous, but that’s my two cents on why that could be the case. maybe. i know you did not actually ask for this i’m so sorry this is so long. autism is a crazy thing, y’know? anyways. yeah. sorry. bye

Hmm, yeah! I do see all your points! I always keep in mind that epic is loosely based off the odyssey so not everything is going to be faithful to it. It's trying to serve its purpose within the story epic is trying to tell. I recognize that a lot of the changes in epic are made for that reason, and while i may prefer the odyssey version, i can enjoy it for the point it's trying to make. But this just felt a bit over the top for me, even for the epic format haha. So this is one of the changes that i generally don't like not only because it's a complete flip from the odyssey, but also because it felt very one-dimensional and fell flat for the musical itself as well (though i understand that not every character is going to be fully fleshed out,, that is expected)

So that is just my personal opinion, and obviously i'm fine with everyone who enjoys the route epic took :)

[redrikki]

Teen Wolf Rewatch 1.10 Formality

It's the night of the winter formal and things are getting dumb. Scott is failing a bunch of classes and is forbidden to go, but he's gonna do it anyway. He threatens Jackson to take Allison to protect her from Peter, but I was under the impression that they had been planning to go already? Allison, meanwhile, makes Lydia go with Stiles as punishment for making out with Scott. Why? Is it because she knows Stiles is in to Lydia and thinks they'd be good together or because she can't stand Stiles and really is punishing Lydia or did Scott ask her to do it?

I've gotten ahead of myself. First, Kate tortures Derek in front of Allison as you do. She 's having fun in a way that freaks out Allison. Kate tells Allison that her parents are afraid to tell her because they think she's weak and won't handle it well, but she, Kate, knows Allie is strong. Allison tries to lean into her strength by demanding the Sheriff give her a ticket and target shooting.

Deaton and Peter face off and we learn about mountain ash and how Deaton is a fucking bad ass. Peter threatens the innocent and vulnerable to get Scott to comply, but instead Scott is determined to save everyone, even Derek who he had been fairly antagonistic to in just the previous episode.

Scott and Melissa are the most wholesome family in this show. Him listening to her intensely awkward call and crying. Her sewing his pants and giving him the best romantic advice. Women love words. Tell her you love her, tell her the truth.

Scott at the dance trying to tell Allison his truth, but now she's too busy covering her own secrets to listen. I know they're supposed to be an epic whatever, but can there be love without honesty and trust or is that just infatuation? They dance and kiss before de ja vue and Chris catch up with them at the buses and it all goes to shit.

Derek and Kate is all sorts of ick. Kate's actress was born in 1979, so she was in her mid 20s while fucking his 16 year old ass. How did they meet, do you think? Did she seek him out knowing what he was with the plan to use him to kill his family or does she just like banging teens and later discovered what he was? I could go either way based on her existing characterization.

Stiles and Lydia are...something, at least at this point. His dance with me rant pulled together all the hints of her intelligence and highlighted his own observation skills to win her over to at least dance. Lydia rants to herself that she doesn't need male validation, but she clearly does. Is this the first time a man praised her for something other than her looks and ability to perform femininity?

Smile! Someone could be falling in love with you right now.

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

Kicking.

Warnings: slight swearing, pregnancy things.

💜Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ💜

I feel it’s a very well-known fact that Donatello Hamato tends to get zero sleep. None. Zilch. He has technology to explore, inventions to create. He has to keep their hideout and base protected from Krang outside. He had three children up to this point, One five year old Karai and a one year old Jeremiah- let alone another child on the way he had to stress over… He had no time for such a silly thing as sleep!

Well, that was his opinion… Until his wife demanded he come to bed after she was able to see the horrible, dark, circles under his eyes- much to his dismay.

So after Tamsin made him shower, finish up anything he needed to do, and kissed his little ones goodnight, she made him crawl straight into bed- like he was some kind of toddler put to sleep early for a punishment.

Now, this wasn’t the worst part of it- as getting him to bed was hard, actually getting the softshell to sleep was a different story.

When Donnie sleeps he sleeps- he crashes. Fully sprawled out and drooling from the mouth as snores fill the room-and probably won’t wake up to the sound of explosions outside… But to even get to the stage takes about an hour- so then you have to put up with light sleeper Donnie. Any movement, any rustle of soft sheets made his eyes shoot wide open and stay wide away for another two hours.

It obviously didn’t bother Donnie, but it damn sure did bother everyone else in the lair, given the fact once he was awake, he’d go right back to his lab and busy himself.

So here he was, laying with his back to Tamsin, eyes closed as he felt his thoughts begin to slow, his body relaxing more and more into the soft cushions of their bed, almost readying to fall into a deep slumber.

But of course, something had to happen when he was this close to getting a normal amount of sleep: the soft sound of shifting sheets. Curses.

Donnie’s eyes slowly opened, not moving from his spot as he listened to the noise a few times, feeling the space against his back move with sound, a small tired sigh escaping here and there as well. It was Tamsin.

Tamsin tossed and turned; brows furrowed in frustration as she tried to find the right position to sleep in that would calm this baby down- but nothing was working. Apparently she wasn’t the only one tossing and turning.

She let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the covers off of her body and sitting upright in bed, slumping against the bedframe in defeat, staring down at her stomach with irritation. This little guy was a fighter, and it was like this anytime Tamsin wasn’t up and moving- so, fun for her.

“Come on, buddy, I need sleep too…” She whispered, her voice a bit tired and weak as she placed her hand to rest atop her stomach, petting slow circles to where she had recently gotten the attack of kicks.

‘Kick.’ There goes another. Right smack dabbed on her hand- as if the kid was smacking her hand away!

She pouted letting out one more defeated huff as she looked up at the ceiling, closing her eyes to try and fight off any wave of emotions she could sense were just waiting for her dam to break.

She felt the bed bend in weight as someone to her side moved, copying her actions of sitting upright in the bed. She didn’t need to open her eyes to know it was Donnie, sensing the burning gaze he was sending her way.

“… Everything alright?” He said, his voice was a bit louder than she thought, seeing he spoke in a voice that was barely a whisper, more mixed of a quieter normal voice.

She finally craned her neck to him, opening her eyes to be met with a bit of concern for Donnie’s features, his arms rested on his legs he at bent a bit upward, hunched over slightly so his elbows could reach where they rested on his knees.

She swallowed thickly, head drooping down to her stomach, eyes stinging as she stared longer. “I can’t sleep, it won’t let me.” She finally spoke, poking her tummy harshly, earning another rude kick which caused her to grunt a bit.

Donnie quizzically glanced between Tamsin and her stomach, watching through the strands of her messy hair as she had her lips formed into a tight frown, eyes glossed over as she fought back any more crying.

She was trying. She really was, but it was beginning to be so frustrating, and it was getting harder to act like it wasn’t becoming unbearable.

Donnie’s eyes widened in alarm, quickly shifting so his posture straightening as a reflex and quickly reaching over and moving away the tangled hair from her face, placing it behind her ear. “Hey, don’t cry. You know it won’t help.” He said softly, keeping his hand against her face.

She only nodded slowly, blinking fiercely to keep the tears from threatening to fall. “I don’t know why it’s so mean to me.” She spoke shakily, sniffling a bit as she poked her stomach again- her answer was two kicks this time.

Donnie blinked, his lips twitching upward a bit. The sight was… Adorable. It was obvious the little guy was a spit fire like it’s mom, and seeing they were already at each other’s throats before the baby was even born.

He tried his best to hold back even a dry scoff- he wasn’t in the mood to get kicked out, so he let out a content hum, shimmying off the bed with a slump over the edge- making Tam let out a noise of alarm.

He quickly poked his head back up, throwing his body onto the bed, laying on his stomach. He was at level with her tummy, resting his chin in the palm of his hand, using his other hand to tap anxiously against her belly.

“Hey in there,” He spoke, squishing his face against her stomach, his voice a bit muffled.

“Don- what the hell are you doing-?" Tamsin yelped a bit, trying to keep a laugh in. Donnie didn’t answer, continuing to speak to the baby.

“You need to calm down, just a little bit. It’s not nice to hurt your mama while she’s sleeping.” He scolded, placing both his hands to her stomach now, like one would grabbing someone’s face. “So, stooop ittttt.” He drawled out, squinting playfully.

Just as soon as he stopped his little tangent, he was kicked right in the snout, so harsh it caused him to real his head back, the most offended look on his face as his mouth went agape in alarm. Tamsin tried desperately to hold back her laughing now, placing her hands to her mouth as a few wheezes escaped.

“Oh, so you have your moms temper I see…” He glared, but he was grinning wildly, squishing his nose against her stomach again. “Hey! Why are you bringing me into this?” She whispered harshly, gently smacking the back of his head with an amused smile.

“Look, Now you’re both abusing me.” He accused, playing a pout on his lips as he turned his head to look up at her, in return he was flicked in the forehead. “Better?” He asked, his tone now soft as he rested his head fully against her now, body relaxing.

Tamsin nodded, placing her hand against Donnie’s head, watching as he gave a small grin in response. “A lot, thank you.” She whispered. Donnie hummed in response, slowly closing his eyes, Tamsin later following suit.

And that’s how the rest of the night went, anytime the baby would start rolling or kicking, Donnie would make himself known, tapping back, or shushing it softly- which seemed to help a little bit, it was enough for him, seeing Tamsin sleeping soundly with soft snores escaping her.

“You better be a lot more mellow when you’re born.” He said, after he got another of the many kicks to the head.

💜Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ💜

[tmwcs]

Reina I have to ask because I know the heeleads are very dominant and protective daddy’s who love to degrade their darlings but they also love them so much and are so obsessed and possessed of them even when they call them their dumb kitten and puppy and lock them up for punishments. I saw this and I was wondering if the heeleads look at their yn in this manner because this kind of seems like it’s not right but I know sometimes heeleads won’t let the yn do anything and will do thing without consent even though it is deep down consensual. At first I thought of heeleads but I don’t think it is like them but I don’t know because I don’t know much about the kinks and dominant personalities. I just go based off heethan mostly because I love the way he treats yn but would he do things like not allowing her to have “opinions” and stuff like that?

Whoa…the fact that the original poster is seemingly female (based off the name) makes this more shameful…All those things that original poster wrote does not define a “good girl”. Absolutely not. None of my female leads are treated or looked at this way.

I want to clarify something—I’ve embraced my kinks and fetishes for a long time, but am very new to the bdsm community and am still learning. But “women” should not be looked at this way just because this person embraces their kinks and lifestyle. Kinks fetishes, d/s relationships, and bdsm is not for everyone. A lot of people aren’t into it, and that’s fine. But to classify a gender of an entire species to be “seen and not heard” is absolutely ridiculous. Whether you’re into the whole kink lifestyle or not, this is not the correct mindset.

As for my male leads…

Yes, heeleads are very dominant, possessive, obsessive, yandere alphas that love their girls to high heavens and enjoy them (mind, body, and soul). They punish, degrade, use, and do a lot of things to their girls that violate/detract from the norms of traditional love, sex, and relationships. But like everything in life, there’s a balance. Keyword “balance”. Just because heeleads (or any real dom) “own” their good girls does not mean they think of them as less human. They do the things they do because they love their good girls and take responsibility for their safety, trust, mental/physical growth, and well being. In real life, to be a daddy/mommy (just a dom in general) is actually (from what I understand) the hardest role/task to fulfill—and it extends past the depths of sex. To knowingly be responsible of another life that adores and relies on you, and returning that in the manner of being the leader…it’s a responsibility that I could never see myself taking on, much less succeeding.

No decent person would EVER think that “rape isn’t real” and that women are truly “weak”. That shit needs to be shut down.

[nyasialiveshere]

Fav dramas review : Heaven's Coin

Idk how to explain the ways I love old japanese dramas, but it's truly something occasionally and randomly I want to talk about. Hardly anyone has reviewed, recapped or discussed some of my favorite stuff in the media, but... I just feel that if only one person who never heard about it or hasn' t watched it in years can learn about a beautiful piece of work. Isn't that what art is all about. Countless times I've picked up albums that never charted or flew under the radar, but somehow it was either the best thing I'd listened to in years or spoke to me so deeply and directly, I was like I'm so glad nobody ever picked up this thing. I'm so glad it collected dust for years in a bookstore or comic shop cause if not then I'd probably never find it.

Especially in the internet age where due to how for profit everything has become it's no longer easy to find out about things that are no longer for sale or that have been locked in a vault so to speak. Jdrama's was a booming industry. Japan had dominated asian cinema for a long time since the 1950s possibly even before. They are master storytellers and love tucking in messages of morals all throughout the story even if the story is presented in an amoral way.

They make it clear that even though the villain isn't ever going to be truly punished and the hero might suffer more than they ever will. Right and wrong is so obvious even a child could understand it.

p.s this review is very bias

Main characters Takumi, Aya and Shuichi (with his annoying self)

That is where Heaven's Coin come in. Loosely based off of a German fairy tale of a girl who gives away all of her coins to everyone until she is left with nothing but later given the stars in return.

First off this is taking place in the 90s the pinnacle of Dramas putting disabled characters in the forefront of television. To americans this is no big deal because we see in comparasion a lot of diversity in television. But in Japan and Asia due to discrimination it is considered taboo and a lot of time disabled characters were often not shown or ignored.

The main character Aya is amazing and is the strength of the entire show. She is shown as smart, crafty and able to think her way around situations where people underestimate her. She was extremely well written and not made into a stereotype at all. Women in this show surprisingly are not cliche like you would assume coming from a conservative country like Japan. They all have a distinct personality and go toe to toe with the male character. Not like you would see in modern shows where women are kind of masculinized in order to seem tougher than men, nor like when women catch temper tantrums to get what they want. In fact the female characters seem more level headed and it's the male characters that are more irrational and emotional. Usually acting in their own selfish interest leaving the women to pick up the pieces and figure out how to go on. Aya was abandoned as a child and had to learn how to survive through being very perceptive to emotions, facial expressions and reading lips. She doesn't let people get in her way, but has a soft heart and puts other people before her self in pretty much every situation.

I fell in love with the character after realizing she was always sacrificing herself for others even in situations where she didn't know what was going on. I don't wanna say the character was made with a feminist lens in mind, but I do think the use of female characters in the show is multifaceted. The males have more power, but the women have more strength if that makes sense.

Shuichi is nice overall, but to me he taught me that kindness and weakness is the worst combo one can have. To me his inability to make a decision always ended up hurting those who he loved most. He was selfish and with his desire to always be the good guy and seem impartial he caused destruction everywhere he went. He never stuck to anything he said and was always going back and forth trying to have it all. I believe that concerning the love triangle he was only there to keep confusing Aya. What I mean is he only went to the small country village Aya lived to mess with his father, a big city doctor, who wanted his son to take his place. Then later on when back in the city he becomes engaged to a rich heiress breaking Aya's heart.

I understand he lost his memory and everything, but the reality is he should of taken the woman he loved with him. Getting confused and falling in love with someone else is a curveball. But he should of been a man and confessed his plans to his family instead of keeping it all hidden. That right there shows that he was ashamed. Aya sadly due to believing she would never find anyone who loved her passionately fell for Shuichi because she believed he was the first and only person who would ever love and care for her, so she should take what she can get. Even after everything was settled Shuichi still couldn't be a man and do what he needed to do for Aya. But in the end Aya was abandoned as a child so she was used to being ignored and avoided. So Shuichi's lame I'll love you from afar style worked for her because it was what she was used to. Anyway personally he gets on my nerves a bit and should have left Aya alone after he got his memory back.

Last but not least, Takumi. Portrayed as the loyal son to Shuichi's prodigal son......or vice versa. He is the one who stayed in the family and did as his parents desired. He is all the more screwed up for it to. Not only is he a playboy with mother wounds, he also has dad issues. He's shown as a screwed up hopeless individual. He's emotionally volatile and takes his anger out on anyone in his way. He is also shown as the one who tries to get in the way of Aya and Shuichi's true love. He falls in instalove with Aya and immediately becomes semi obsessed with her and stops his playboy antics and even becomes more mature and sensitive for her. Believing she is an innocent woman and can redeem him. He obviously thinks she will never have any opportunities with other men, so she is stuck with him so to speak. It seems he likes that idea very much. But when he finds out his brother is her true object of affection he snaps and turns violent on both Aya and his brother. Now saying all that it might seem like the show would end there and he'd be gotten rid of like any villain but no. Despite his outburst and violence he is almost shown to be the true hero of the show. Falling deeper and deeper in love with Aya the more he becomes aware of her affection for his brother. It may be related to his insecurity about his father loving his brother more than he loved him and wanting to beat his brother. Or remembering that he never got the sweet affection from his mother as a child and wants it from Aya. It's hard to say

The show is emotionally complex and even though I hate medical drama's typically; I couldn't help but love this show. It was interesting, emotional and had a very human vibe to it.

Aya and Takumi were the most interesting because usually it's the woman in a movie or show that wants to change herself for a guy but here it's reversed. It's Takumi who behaves more like a girl with a crush concerning Aya and works hard to both communicate with her but also win her love. It's problematic, but I can see where the writers were coming from. It's supposed to be off putting and conflicting. Shuichi was quiet and reserved and Takumi was brash and loud, but in the end Shuichi ended up hurting more people with his inaction than Takumi did with his hands.

It's from an era where writers took a bit more chances with daring storytelling...7/10 it's a short show but it's so interesting and has rewatch potential. The actors played the heck out of the characters to the point where it really felt natural.

Also yes it is on available in different places on the int. There is a third season that I have never found, it looks very tropical lmao but I doubt it takes place on the beach they just did it to look cool I think. No idea where this one is but can they please film more drama's like this it looks so Blue Lagoon (I watched it on tv when I was 15 in 2015ish idk on cable and the film style is like better than they do today there's a lifetime remake but its not very good) but anyway it looks great but impossible to find.