#becoming obsessed with an extremely minor character

[sleepyhoon]

i see you (always, forever). - l.hs

synopsis. following your ex boyfriend’s sudden disappearance, lee heeseung seemingly enters your life at the perfect time.

pairing. stalker bf!heeseung x fem reader

genre. dark romance, smut, light humor.

word count. 6.1k+

warnings. swearing, obsessive behavior, stalking, brief mention of drink spiking (doesn’t actually happen), mention of alcohol consumption, person held in captivity, mention of past infidelity, extremely brief mention of childbirth, smut [ consensual somno, oral (fem receiving), p in v, sex toy usage ]. this fic contains dark content and is not at all how i view these idols. minors and ageless blogs dni. 18+ content read at your own discretion.

featuring. hwang yeji & shin ryujin (itzy)

a/n. happy valentine’s day babies!! wanted to do something cute and light but i fear it just wasn’t working out … so this right here is for my dark romance girlies hehe enjoy! drew inspo from the television show “you”! shoutout to bae @yangkkomi for beta reading

Lee Heeseung has the worst case of separation anxiety when it comes to you.

The mere thought of being away from you for too long is enough to send him into a spiral, and you barely even realize the effect you had on him. His naturally clingy nature raised no concerns to you; in fact, you relish in his borderline unhealthy infatuation with you — seeing as your previous boyfriend of ten months disappeared on a random Tuesday afternoon, leaving nothing behind but a note claiming he needed to start a new life.

The week of Park Jongseong’s sudden disappearance was agonizing. Yes, he assured everyone he was okay and simply was moving onto a new chapter in his life, and that no one drove him to make such a rash decision, but something about the situation didn’t sit well with you.

Jongseong wasn’t impulsive in the slightest, and you would argue he was one of, if not the most, mature, level headed men you’ve dated. He was distant at times which often felt unsettling, but had his reasonings and assured you he couldn’t have been happier in the relationship. That was one of your favorite things about Jongseong, how he always knew just what to say to calm your nerves, and how he always had a rational explanation for everything.

Running away so suddenly was out of character for him, and a part of you feared that, despite the note left behind, there was something malicious going on that led to his disappearance.

Your older sister, Yeji, had just given birth and was in the midst of planning her wedding, while your parents deemed themselves as “too busy to deal with your issues”, leaving you to become a shell of yourself without having anyone to confide in. Days turned into weeks of you locking yourself in your apartment, typing your ex boyfriend’s name into the search bar over and over, hoping something new would pop up; but nothing ever did.

After a long, tiring day of Zoom meetings and doing more research on Jongseong, your eyes had begun to flutter shut when a knock on your front door wakes you. Expecting it to be your Doordash driver dropping off a greasy, million calorie cheeseburger and a can of soda, you yell out to leave it at the front door. The knocking persisted, and with a sigh, you dragged your feet all the way to the front door, certainly shocked at the man that stood before you.

You don’t even give him the chance to explain himself before you’re asking, “Why do you look familiar?”

He grins at you, absentmindedly drumming his fingers against the cardboard box in his hands. “Unless you’re a book lover we probably don’t know each other; I’m a manager of a bookstore downtown, I’m there all the time.”

“Is it… Brookhaven? You guys have K-pop albums too, right?”

“Book-haven,” he corrects you with a polite nod, “and, yeah, we have albums. Have you been to the shop?”

“A few times.” You mumble, suddenly feeling very self conscious of your outfit choice. With the option to have your camera off during the Zoom meetings, you felt no desire to get dressed for the day, opting to work in your oversized sweatshirt and sleep shorts. 

The unnamed man wore casual clothing — a grey North Face jacket atop a black t-shirt and white cargos — yet, you felt completely underdressed in comparison to him. His gaze was piercing yet gentle, like he carried a certain confidence about himself in a way that didn’t come off as cocky or arrogant. Though, you really couldn’t blame him if he were the conceited type; he was definitely an attractive man.

The silver chain on his neck had been paired perfectly with matching earrings, including a silver hoop on his helix. His hair, though likely not his natural color, suited him perfectly; the subtle curls and waves giving him a classic, boyish look with bangs that fell just beneath his eyebrows.

You clear your throat, gesturing towards the package in his hands, “Are you dropping this off?”

“Yes! Uh, FedEx dropped off some packages at my store yesterday and it looks like this must’ve gotten mixed in,” he explains, extending the package towards you, “I tried calling the number on the label yesterday but no one answered, so I’m just swinging by to drop it off.”

You accept the package, rolling your eyes at the mixup. “FedEx is always doing bullshit.”

He lets out a dry chuckle, “Trust, I’m fully aware. The driver for our block is this old-ass man; I once caught him asleep in his truck.”

You laugh a little too loud at this, inwardly cringing at yourself afterwards as you tuck the package beneath your arm. “Well, thanks for bringing my package…?” You trail off, hoping he’ll complete your sentence by offering you his name.

“Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.”

“Thank you, Heeseung, Lee Heeseung.” You repeat, earning a grin from him.

“No worries,” he responds, fishing something out of his pocket, “and feel free to stop by the store sometime, especially now that you have a coupon.” He says, offering you the small slip of paper from his pocket.

You accept it, eyes widening at the “BOGO FREE KPOP ALBUM” staring back at you. “I…is this real? You really don’t have to.”

Heeseung shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets, “It’s no big deal, I keep coupons on me to hand out, anyway. Plus, we’re trying to make room for more stock.” He says, slowly walking backwards down the hall as he inches away from your door. Like a magnet, your body automatically angles towards him, hoping he’ll say something else.

“You’ll just have to request a manager when you’re ready to use it, regular associates can’t process certain coupons under their employee number.”

You nod, free-hand gripping the doorframe as your eyes follow Heeseung, “What days do you work?”

He shrugs again, “Doesn’t have to be me, I have two assistant managers that are there pretty often.”

“Right, but, when are you there?”

He pauses, titling his head at you before responding, “Monday through Friday, eleven-to-eight. Sometimes I stop by once or twice on the weekends to check in.”

“Will you be there tomorrow?”

“All day, eleven-to-eight.”

The following morning, you had the sudden urge to buy a K-pop album and get another one for free.

Heeseung had spent a good portion of that morning conversing with you from behind the counter, listening intently when you got on the topic of your previous boyfriend’s disappearance. It’s still a touchy subject for you, and probably not the best thing to talk about while getting to know a guy you’re interested in, but Heeseung’s question on how “such a pretty girl” like you was single required a truthful answer. Initially, you feared your response of “my boyfriend went missing” would be enough to scare him off, but Heeseung didn’t seem phased in the slightest.

In fact, in the two-and-a-half months you’d been dating Heeseung there was almost nothing you could say or do that would phase him to the point of genuine concern. Not how it took an insane amount of motivation for you in order to clean your apartment (he was fine cleaning it himself), or how often you’d forget to take your very much needed medication (he was more than happy to remind you every morning and night, and even went as far as requesting a refill when the bottle was nearly empty and picking it up for you). Catering to your every need was just another simple task for him, and you’re more than grateful that the universe seemingly dropped him right in your lap when you needed it most.

Heeseung was patient, understanding, and was absolutely devoted to your relationship. In his eyes, you deserved nothing but the best, and was keen on making sure to provide for you. 

Cooking for you was probably his favorite task. He wasn’t the best at it per se, but improved with every attempt, and you seemed to enjoy his meals despite them not being to his liking.

He’d woken up early this morning to prepare a Valentine’s day breakfast for you, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slipped out of bed and into your kitchen. The original plan was to go all out and cook a ridiculous breakfast feast he’d seen on TikTok that featured cinnamon rolls, sausage, and fluffy pancakes.

He burnt the first batch of cinnamon rolls and decided it best to simplify your feast down to eggs, bacon, and french toast sticks. Slightly disappointed that his original plan didn’t work out, your boyfriend sighs at himself as he pours a glass of cranberry juice before setting it on a wooden tray table. How he made it to your bedroom without dropping everything was beyond him, considering how he was still weak from sleep and could hardly keep his eyes open.

Heeseung pushed the door open with his foot, peeking his head in slightly and furrowing his brows at your sleeping figure. If not from the noise of clattering dishes, he was almost certain the smell of food would be enough to wake you up. He knew you were a heavy sleeper, but never realized how heavy.

“How are you still asleep?” He mumbles to himself with a sigh, setting the tray of food on your desk before retreating to your bed. He digs his knee into the edge of the  mattress, gently shaking your leg in an attempt to wake you. You don’t budge, your slumber remaining unaffected as the sounds of your light snoring continue to fill the room. His fingers trail down your leg until they reach the sole of your foot, his fingernails softly tickling the sensitive area until you’re jerking your leg away in discomfort.

“Weirdo.” You say through a yawn, angling your body until you’re laying on your side.

Heeseung rolls his eyes at your insult, grabbing ahold of your leg as he responds, “A true weirdo would’ve put their mouth on it, you’re lucky it’s just me. Now get up, I made breakfast.”

Waking you up was no easy task, whether it was seven in the morning or half past noon. Heeseung suspects you’re still recovering from sleep debt after all the nights you’d spent lying awake researching Jongseong’s disappearance. The nights you could sleep didn’t typically didn’t last long; it’d either take hours until you finally drifted off, or you’d wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare; leaving you unable to go back to sleep.

Your sleep schedule hadn’t gotten back on track until you met Heeseung, who made sure you were taking melatonin, iron pills, and just about anything that would help you sleep soundly and feel less tired during the day. And while the extra supplements may be working, there was still a lot of sleep debt you were recovering from; an almost concerning amount that made it difficult for you to get up most days.

You groan into your pillow when the smell of Heeseung’s freshly made breakfast hits your nose, your mouth nearly salivating from the scent alone. As much as you wanted to sit up and start eating, your limbs were still heavy with exhaustion. “Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be up,” you plead, “I promise.”

Heeseung shakes his head. “Y/N,” he whines, “just get up, I wanna spend time with you before work. You can go back to sleep after I leave.”

Today was the release day of author, Shin Ryujin’s, newest sapphic romance novel that Heeseung could not remember the title of; just that it featured a lot of smut, has over twenty-four chapters, and was highly anticipated. Her team had reached out to Bookhaven not too long ago, inquiring about hosting a Q+A session and book signing event on the day of its release. Initially, Heeseung had planned to reject the offer since it fell on Valentine’s day and that type of event required his presence, and he’d originally planned on spending the entire day with you. The payout of said event, however, was more than enough to get him on board.

He’d be leaving the shop and heading over to you around five, and have Sunoo or Jungwon close up, leaving him with just seven hours with you that he’d planned to make the most of. All he needed now was for you to wake the hell up before he has to leave.

You still don’t budge, mumbling something incoherent before the snores resume and you’ve drifted back to sleep.

“Babe,” he says flatly, shaking your leg. “Y/N. Baby. Dude, get up.”

Still nothing, and Heeseung’s on the verge of kissing your forehead and calling it a day, but there is one thing that could get you up.

Slowly, he peels the thick comforter off of your body, relishing in the fact that you chose to sleep in one of his shirts. Allowing himself further onto the mattress, Heeseung’s hand reahes for the hem of your shirt, pushing it up just enough to reveal your lavender colored panties. He pauses, glancing up at you momentarily before lowering his head and nestling it between your thighs.

He starts off slow, placing a light kiss on your inner thigh before trailing his lips upwards. Pausing right at your hip bone, Heeseung’s fingertips move to the core of your underwear, lightly scratching at your cunt through the soft material. Frustrated, he whines your name once more before slowly trailing your panties down and off your legs, discarding of them on the other side of the mattress.

Fingernails digging into your flesh, he grips your thighs as he repositions himself at eye level with your cunt, inching forward slowly until he’s pressing his lips right against yours. It’s gentle at first, much like how he’d kiss you any other time, a few gentle pecks until he was desperate for more.

Heeseung tilts his head slightly, and finally has his tongue fall flat against your entrance. The groan that escapes his mouth from the contact comes from deep in his chest, his fingernails leaving crescent-shaped indents on your thighs from how hard he’s gripping them.

He licks a long, slow strip along your cunt upwards towards your clit, licking and sucking at the bud as if savoring the feeling of your taste on his tongue. He repeats his movements a few more times, growing desperate as the seconds pass by, each moan and whine from him becoming more desperate and whiny than the last. You shift around slightly, furrowing your brows a bit, but still not fully awake.

Another minute passes by and you’re still asleep. Your body automatically responding to Heeseung’s touches, but they’re still not enough to wake you. He’s not bored in the slightest, though, and would argue that he could probably go on for hours if that’s what it took; but he has to leave soon, and needs you awake as soon as possible.

With a sigh, he kisses your thigh once before twisting his body and reaching over to your nightstand, opening the bottom drawer and digging around slightly until his fingers brush against the rubber vibrator he’d been searching for. It’s an air pulsing one you’d bought before you’d met Heeseung, and when he’d discovered it in your room for the first time, he’d insisted on implementing it into your sex lives as much as possible.

He turns it on, choosing to keep it on the first setting before pressing it directly on your clit. A sharp gasp escapes your lips at the contact, with Heeseung keeping his gaze fixed on your face. Gently massaging the toy against your cunt, your eyes slowly began to flutter open, a loud moan echoing through the room as Heeseung turned the toy up to a medium setting.

You grab a fistful of Heeseung’s hair, yanking him forward until his mouth is on your cunt again. The sudden roughness takes him by surprise, but he doesn’t seem to mind it in the slightest; in fact, he can feel himself stiffening in his boxers from you gripping his hair alone.

Moaning into your cunt, Heeseung does his best to keep the vibrator pressed against you while he eats you out. His desperation was astonishing, his moans nearly being as loud and whiny as yours as he continued.

When you’re finally close, which doesn’t take very long; Heeseung discards the vibrator completely; mindlessly tossing it on the floor to lap at your cunt with his tongue. He presses it flat against you, dragging your wetness up to your clit before sucking the swollen bud between his lips.

You orgasm almost instantly at that, trapping Heeseung's head between your thighs as you come on his face with your back arching off the bed and swears pouring from your lips.

You’re panting as you come down from your high, breath rigged as you drape your arm against your forehead, “Wow.”

“You okay?” Heeseung asks, voice muffled as you finally release his head was still trapped between your thighs.

“Shit,” you loosen the grip, “sorry, Hee.”

“Don’t apologize. Oh my God, I could’ve died like that and would’ve been okay with it.”

Weirdly enough, you don’t think he’s joking.

“Anyways,” he continues, “you okay?”

You nod, pressing your lips into a thin line, “I’m definitely up.”

“Yeah, me too,” He responds, tapping on his painfully hard erection. “Can I…?”

“If you do all the work, sure.”

Heeseung scoffs, already moving to tug his pajama pants down, “As if I ever let you do any of it.”

It’s not a complaint, Heeseung was more than happy being the more assertive one when it came to your sex life. He didn’t mind doing most of the work as long as it meant you were getting off.

When he turns you to lay on your side you let him, resting your back against his chest as he teases his tip at your entrance. You bite down on your bottom lip, hand gripping the bed sheets when he finally does slide himself in. Heeseung grunts into your ear, placing a gentle hand on your hip, “ ‘m gonna go a little bit fast, okay? We don’t have a lot of time.”

He wasn’t exaggerating, either.

At your confirmation, Heeseung pulled out of you entirely before pushing himself back in; his thrusts overwhelmingly fast but not painful or rough. You yelp when he bites down on your neck, though, a habit he picked up upon finding out you enjoy being marked up.

He was certain that neither of you will last long like this, so it doesn’t surprise him that after a few minutes you’re already creeping up on your orgasm. Heeseung takes this as a sign to speed up his already quick thrusts, his nails digging into your hip as he presses his head onto your shoulder.

You finish first with Heeseung just a few seconds behind you, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of him filling you up with his cum. As always, he keeps his dick buried in you for another minute longer, only pulling out when he’s reminded of how little time he has.

Sitting up, Heeseung moves a few stray strands of hair out of the way to plant kisses on your face, but you stop him with the excuse of not having brushed your teeth yet before he’s able to properly kiss you on the lips.

He scoffs, “You just came on my face, do you think I care if you have morning breath? Don’t insult me.”

“At least let me eat first so I can get this weird taste out of my mouth,” you counter, reaching over your shoulder to pat Heeseung on the cheek. “Can I do that?”

Heeseung lets out a loud, dramatic sigh, “If you insist. Let me clean you up first, though.”

He stands from the bed, awkwardly pulling his boxers and pajama pants back up before excusing himself to your bathroom. He takes care of himself first before running a rag under the sink faucet and returning to your bedroom.

After cleaning you up with practiced ease, Heeseung discards of the rag in your bathroom hamper and slips back into your bedroom, finally delivering you the breakfast in bed he’d been anticipating all week, a wide grin on his face as he sets the wooden tray down on your lap. “All your favorites: french toast sticks, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese, and a glass of cranberry juice. Bone apple teeth.”

You chuckle at his joke, admiring the feast laying in your lap as you grab a strip of bacon, “Where’s your food?” You ask, noticing there was only enough servings for one person.

Heeseung shakes his head, resting the palm of his hand on your bare knee as he sits across from you, “I’ll pick up something on the way to work, didn’t have time to make enough for both of us.”

With a pout, you take a bite of the bacon strip, “Now I feel bad.”

Heeseung grins, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, “Don’t, consider this part one of your Valentine’s gift.”

You’ve finished the first strip by now, moving onto the second one as you use your free hand to retrieve your phone from the nightstand. “Well, at least let me pay for your breakfast then.”

He shakes his head at you, reaching for your phone that you manage to pull out of reach. “Babe, you seriously don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you respond, halfway through Venmo-ing him fifteen dollars, “that should be enough.”

“Y/N…”

“Done! And don’t send it back or else I’ll be really sad, you know gift-giving is my love language.”

He chuckles, using the fork and knife on the tray table to cut a piece of the french toast stick, “Thank you, baby. You spoil me.” He dips the fork into the container of maple syrup before bringing it up to your parted lips, cupping his hand underneath to prevent the syrup from dripping onto the bed sheets.

You hum, cupping Heeseung’s face as you chew, “Anything for my princess. Also, you said this was part one of my gift?”

Heeseung nods, cutting another square off the french toast, “Part two is still later tonight, once I’m off work.”

“Can you tell me what it is now, please?” You plead, clasping your hands together as you jutt out your bottom lip, staring up at him with a pout. For the past week, Heeseung had been teasing about this big Valentine’s day surprise he had planned for you, claiming it would be the “surprise of a lifetime”.

He hums, feeding you another forkful. “I’ll tell you this, when you have the time, you’re gonna have to pack an overnight bag.” Your eyes light up, waiting patiently before speaking as Heeseung continues, “And, you’re gonna have to be dressed up once I pick you up after work. Nothing crazy fancy, just… something nice.”

Heeseung can tell you want to bombard him with more questions, and brings another forkful of food to your lips before you have the chance. “I’ll be picking you up around five-forty-five, ‘m sorry I’ll have to be at the shop most of the day.”

You shake your head, picking up the glass of cranberry juice, “Don’t be, I hope the event goes well. If you have extras, can you bring me a copy of the book?”

“For sure, and I’ll see if I can leave any sooner so we have some extra time together.”

“You seriously don’t have to,” you assure him, taking a sip of your drink, “besides, I have some errands to run in the meantime.”

Heeseung raises a brow at you, “Oh? You’re going out today?”

You nod excitedly, setting the cup on your nightstand, “Yeji and I are taking the baby to a Mommy-and-Me yoga class then doing some shopping.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes at the mention of your sister, setting the fork and knife back onto the tray table. You frown at him, shoulders slouching as you tilt your head, “Why do you hate my sister so much?”

“I never said I hated Yeji.”

“You didn’t have to, it’s pretty obvious. You never wanna talk to her when she’s around and you roll your eyes whenever I mention her.”

Heeseung shrugs, “She’s just not my cup of tea, is all. Our personalities clash.”

Of course there’s more to it than clashing personalities, but you’re not quite ready for the full truth just yet, so he decides to leave it at that. “Anyways, how are Jake and Jihan?”

Your eyes light up at the mention of your future brother-in-law and nephew, “I talked to Yeji yesterday and she said things are good! Jihan is starting to roll over and Jake plans on asking his friend, Sunghoon, to be his best man. Oh, and Yeji says the baby is finally starting to look like Jake.”

“Really?”

You nod, “Mmhm, Jake is so happy.”

“Good for him,” Heeseung mumbles, watching as you take a bite of the eggs. “Gonna have to head out now, but I loaded my card onto your Apple Wallet, ‘kay? Use that while you shop.”

You blink at him, “When’d you do that?”

“Last night, consider it part one-and-a-half of your gift.”

“You spoil me.”

Heeseung grins, “Anything for you.”

The drive to Bookhaven is quiet, with Keshi playing from the stereo as Heeseung made his way to the shop and parked by the employee entrance.

Stepping right into a pile of snow, he shuts the car door behind him before making his way across the street and stopping by his favorite breakfast cafe, Heaven’s Treats. He ordered his usual: two bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches on croissants and two bottles of water; using your fifteen-dollar Venmo gift to pay and tipping the staff with a few dollars cash.

He heads back over to his shop afterwards, unlocking and entering through the employee entrance. Once inside, he unlocks his office door first, setting the bag of food down on his desk before heading into the main area of the shop. Taking a few minutes to wipe down tables and put away loose books, Heeseung hums to himself as he enjoys how quiet and peaceful the shop is. Shin Ryujin was sure to bring in a crowd later today, and he can already tell he’d be leaving the shop with a headache.

Once finished, Heeseung retreats back to his office and shuts the door behind him, grabbing the bag of food from the desk before walking over to the closet door. With a sigh, he opens it up, pushing the file cabinet to the side to reveal the door to the hidden basement. His eyes jot down to the keypad under the doorknob, where he quickly types in your anniversary before twisting the knob and pushing the door open.

Staring down at the wooden staircase, Heeseung sighs once again, “Let’s get this over with.”

Carefully, he retreats down the steps and into the basement, looking over into the glass chamber and finding Jongseong, your ex boyfriend, sound asleep on his mattress. Heeseung chuckles once he’s made it down the stairs, walking over to the pass-through attached to the glass chamber and opening it, sliding in the breakfast sandwich and bottle of water before shutting it with a loud click!

Heeseung retreats over to his desk and computer monitors that sat opposite of the glass chamber, sitting on his office chair before grabbing and turning on the intercom microphone. “Sleeping in?”

His voice comes out ten times louder in the glass chamber’s speaker, jolting Jongseong out of his sleep as he presses the palms of his hands onto his ears. “Jesus fuckin’… is the intercom necessary?! You’re right there! I can hear you through the glass!”

Heeseung shrugs nonchalantly, setting the microphone back on the desk, “You’re a heavy sleeper.” Jongseong sighs in response, rubbing his eyes as Heeseung continues, “Brought you breakfast, it’s in the pass-through. Eat before it gets cold.”

“How do I know you didn’t do something to it? Sick fuck.” Jongseong spits, arms folded across his chest as he stares at Heeseung through the glass.

“Do something like what?”

“I don’t know, spike my drink like last time?”

Heeseung lets out an agitated groan as he slumps in his chair, retrieving his own food from the takeout bag as he responds, “How many times do I have to tell you I didn’t fucking drug you that night? You actually made everything a lot easier by getting blackout drunk at a fucking nightclub.”

“Yeah, and if I didn’t blackout? Then what?”

“Who cares? It doesn’t matter, what matters is that you’re away from Y/N.”

Jongseong shivers at the mention of your name, immediately looking away from Heeseung and focusing his attention on the food in the pass-through.

Around six months ago, you’d showed up to Bookhaven hand-in-hand with Jongseong, and Heeseung had been enthralled with you ever since. He spent is every waking moment doing his research on you, which included doing a deep dive on the people closest to you: your immediate family, close friends, and stupid fucking boyfriend.

Heeseung knew the moment he laid eyes on Jongseong that he was no good for you, and was clearly putting up a facade when the two of you were together. Heeseung saw right through it, how quickly he’d pull out his phone to snap a text when you were looking, how he’d roll his eyes whenever you got too excited about something, how he almost never responded to your PDA — he was the fucking worst, and you deserved so much better. You deserved Lee Heeseung.

Days leading up to Jongseong’s disappearance, Heeseung had been watching him like a hawk; cyber-stalking him as closely as possible without being caught, until, finally, Jongseong decided to go clubbing one night.

Heeseung’s original plan was to wait until Jongseong was slightly drunk and knock him out, but Jongseong getting blackout drunk on his own accord made things way easier for Heeseung — all he had to do was pretend to be a friend to Jongseong and convince everyone else he’d be getting him home safely.

Dumbasses, all of them.

Jongseong stands, scratching the back of his neck as he walks over to the pass-through.

“Anyways, it’s Valentine’s day,” Heeseung says after biting into his own sandwich, “you have any plans? Oh wait.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes again, mumbling “Fuck you” under his breath as he retrieves his food and drink. He inspects the sandwich thoroughly before taking a bite, chewing slowly as if trying to taste each and every spice and flavor.

“Wait,” Heeseung speaks, suddenly realizing something, “if you just woke up, that means you missed the show.”

Jongseong rolls his eyes a third time, already knowing what Heeseung was getting at. “I’m sure I didn't miss much.”

Heeseung swivels around in his office chair to face the three monitors, each one surveilling different areas in your apartment. You were blissfully unaware of the hidden cameras he’d set up in your home that have been recording your every move for months on end. He’s doing it for your own safety, really; keeping an eye on you at all times.

You’re in the kitchen now, loading up the dishwasher with music playing from your phone, stopping every few seconds to belt out the lyrics or make an attempt at doing the choreography. Heeseung enjoys watching you like this, when you truly get to be yourself because you think no one is around.

He grins, switching over to the center monitor and hitting the rewind button until he sees himself entering your bedroom, “There we go.” Heeseung monitors himself closely, watching as he sets the tray of food down on your desk before walking over to your mattress.

He moves out of the way so Jongseong has a better view of the screen, a smug expression on his face as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. The monitors were on at all hours, meaning the only entertainment Jongseong had was watching you stroll around your house. Weirdly enough, it pleases him to keep an eye on you like this, making sure you’re still okay after all this time.

He can do without watching you and Heeseung have sex, though.

Jongseong turns his head away the moment Heeseung removes the blanket from your body, groaning in disgust as he takes another bite from his sandwich. “I don’t need to see this.”

Heeseung shrugs, mumbling, “Your loss” as he speeds up the replay. He prefers to focus on the key moments anyway, like the face you make right before you come on his, or how your entire body tensed when he leaned down to bite on the nape of your neck.

As arousing as it was to play back all those moments, he primarily used it as a personal study guide on what you liked the most, so he’d be better at pleasing you going forward. This behavior had started before the two of you even got together, if he’s being completely honest. One simple, playful retweet from you about preferring to receive oral rather than give it had him ordering a pocket pussy the very next day to practice on.

The first time the two of you hooked up, Heeseung had spent approximately twenty-four minutes going down on you, only stopping when you expressed concerns about his jaw locking up — not that he cared.

“Wait a second,” Jongseong pauses, crumbling the empty food wrapper into a ball before tossing it to the floor, “what happened to that big breakfast feast you kept talking about, huh? With the, uh, the pancakes and cinnamon rolls?”

When Heeseung doesn’t respond, Jongseong continues taunting, “What, realized you couldn’t do it? That you can do something as simple as prepare a meal? Wow, are you—”

“Shut up, dumbass.” Heeseung interrupts him with a shake of his head, swiveling around in his office chair until he’s facing Jongseong, “You think you’re better than me because you know how to cook? Go on then, cook something. Go to the stove and prove you’re better at me than cooking.”

Silence falls between the two, with Jongseong glaring daggers at Heeseung as he tightens his fists.

“Oh, wait,” Heeseung continues, tapping his chin, “you can’t cook; you’re trapped in my basement while I fuck your girlfriend.“

“Whatever.”

“Oh, now it’s whatever, but just a second ago you were so much better than me for knowing how to cook — you also know how to lie and cheat.”

“Whatever, Heeseung, just drop it.”

“How do you think Y/N would feel if she found out you were cheating on her with her own sister? How old do you think Jihan will be before Jake realizes why they look nothing alike?” Heeseung questions, tilting his chin at Jongseong, as if expecting a legitimate answer.

The mere thought of Jongseong and your own sister getting together behind your back is enough to make Heeseung gag; he couldn’t fucking believe two of the closest people in your life would deceive you like that. It was beyond disgusting, and he had a strong distaste for Yeji the moment he found out.

Ashamed, Jongseong turn away from Heeseung’s gaze. “That’s none of your fucking business.”

Heeseung rolls his eyes, turning around in his seat until he’s facing the monitors, “Anything involving Y/N is my business, fuck-face, including you and anyone else that bothers her.”

He navigates the surveillance controls until he’s back to watching you in real time, the corners of his lips quirking up into a smile when he sees you facetiming someone. He shushes Jongseong, who hadn’t even been speaking, as he turns the volume up in order to hear you better.

“…and I think he looks just like you, seriously…Jake?…I mean, I don’t know…I’m not really seeing the resemblance yet…”

Realizing who you were talking to and what the topic of conversation was, Heeseung clicks his tongue, “They may even find out sooner than you think.”

The sound of Yeji’s voice through the speaker has him rolling his eyes as he turns down the volume, not that it mattered, considering you disappeared into the bathroom a few moments later.

“Hey,” Jongseong taps on the glass, “let me ask you something.”

“No.”

“Why do you have a camera in every room except the bathroom?”

It’s a genuine question, but it comes out more perverted than Jongseong had intended it to.

As if the answer was obvious, Heeseung raises a brow as he responds, “I’m giving her privacy, pervert.”

[venvellan]

i'm unironically so obsessed with rolan it's getting annoying. it was never ironic to begin with but i thought a post or two would get it out of my system. it's worse now. i been thinking about this side quest npc more than astarion lately. at the VERY LEAST i think about them equally. it's stupid. never in my career have i been down lower for a side character with < an hour of dialogue. i am so free. but at the same time. feel like dribbles. the way i'm clowning around (and in several pieces spread across the land)

[luludeluluramblings]

Dick Grayson's Obsession with Smalltown!Reader

A/N: Why dialogue hard? Why so hard? Y'all I tried, once again. I saved Dick for last because I really really really did not want to screw up his character. I did end up adding a scene from Part Seven in here. Just to give it some pizzazz.

A/N: Part Eight is in the works, but it’s either gonna be massive or I’m going to have to divide it up. Also, people be posting so straight up fire in the Yandere Bat tags lately. Good stuff, I needed that.

Warnings: Yandere themes, physical affection.

Out of everyone, Dick was the most enthusiastic about Reader coming to Wayne manor, while also being the most melancholic. The tragedy of their arrival wasn't lost on him, despite the thrill he had over the thought of having another person to add to hi life. Already, the need and wanted to smoother them in comfort and care was there. But, the life experiences he had allowed him to realize it was probably best not to overwhelm them.

Therefore, it came out in short burst of staggering affection at times. But, only when he was visiting. (There was no denying the fact that he was extremely tempted to call them on the phone just to make sure they were settling in just fine. And, that he fought that temptation every single night.)

That didn't stop him from feeling some minor annoyance with Bruce for keeping the fact that they existed a secret. Dick had seen the affects of this life and even felt them, but to let the family nearly miss out on something so honeyed with normalcy was cruel. (It would have been preferred if they didn't have to lose their parents in order to join the rest of the family, but it was hard to think like with how busy his schedule was and soft they felt in his arms.)

Admittedly he may have latched on to them too hard in the beginning. They felt stiff the first time his arms wrapped around them. The guilt of it gurgled in his throat, which is why he cut it short and went about his business. But, he couldn't stop the urge to do so each time they crossed each other's paths in the manor halls.

And, much to his glee, they start to soften. Slowly, but surly, they start to cling to him a little longer when his arms wrap around them. They start to depend on him. For once the thought of someone so conventional depending on him as Dick rather than as Nightwing, because everyone seems to depend on him as Nightwing, doesn't fill him with anxiety. It makes his chest flutter in a different way. Not with anxious butterflies, but with a flicker of a warmth.

It's completely innocent, the way the craving starts. He has to talk himself out of rearranging his entire schedule to be around them. Especially after the kidnapping incident. But, the Rouge break out gives him plenty of work to distract himself, and more frequent chances to find them in the manor for a dose of his new source of comfort.

His feelings finally start to become clear when rather than holding him longer and tighter, they finally reach for him themselves.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

“And, how is my favorite person today?” Already Dick has his arms opened wide for you when you walk out of the kitchen. He always appears from the depths of the manor, before he wraps around you like a slow creeping vine blooming with all sorts of sentiments.

"Alfred was doing good last I saw." But, by now you've grown to appreciate the way the tendrils curl around your limbs and burrow themselves into you. A small grin forming on your face at the chance to finally have someone to talk to, even if he isn't consistent company.

"Alfred isn't my favorite person, and you know it." The banter between them enjoyable and the undertones of his words ignorable in your obliviousness. "But, seriously, how are you doing today? You look like you have something on your mind. If it is you can tell me, you know that right?" The concern pouring put of his lips, as his grip tightens.

He had seen you through the cameras and had overheard the longing phone calls. The fact that your birthday was coming up had crossed his mind, and the realization that this would be your first without your parents did register in his brain. (But, it would also be you first with them. With him.) Bringing it up to you seemed like a bad idea. But, he would still try to encourage you to spill your feelings to him.

"No, no. It's nothing I promise." Your reply was soft and dismissive. But, the dishonesty was noticeable in it still.

Dick's arms seemed to tighten around you as you spoke, as if he was trying to decode the root of your troubles from the way your heart was beating against his chest. Eventually, he does loosen his limbs around you.

As he looks down, you known and he knows you’re lying. For a moment you think he going to push. To try to choke the words out of your lungs with another tight squeeze. But, he doesn't. Instead he lets you breathe.

"Okay," is all he says.

No extra nor unnecessary words. No constant reassurance that he'll always be there for you. Just a single word and the room to breathe. Those other things have already been said. Multiple times, in fact.

It's this one instance where he lets you breath that somehow gives you lungs the air it needs to blurt out what's bothering you as he pulls away.

"I wanna go home." The words escape your lips when you finally exhale and reach for him. The words coarse. "I just really want to go home for a bit. I miss home. I miss my family. I just—“

Dick doesn't even let you get halfway before he's enveloping you again. A slight tremble in his hands as he sprouts around you once more.

This. This is what he's wanted. You coming to him with your raw feelings. And, he knows he's the first person you've said this to at all.

"How can I help you?" He asks instead of questioning the statement.

"Can you help me convince Bruce to let me go, please, Dick?” The tentative way you ask and look up at him has him caving immediately.

"Of course!" Perhaps it was a good thing you didn't grow up in Wayne manor. If Bruce hadn't spoiled you, he most definitely would have. "I'll bring it up to B as soon as he gets back."

"He's gone?" You hadn't been informed of him even leaving, but then again, you were hardly every informed about anything it seems.

"Yeah, work emergency. It wasn't a big deal, but he'll be back soon." Dick can sense the mild tone shift, but manages to shift it back to something more lighthearted. "I'll make sure to butter him up for you. I swear. Puppy-dog eyes and everything."

It works, because before he can even clutch you to his chest you already wrapped your arms around his torso and pulled yourself towards him. Just the way you hug him tells him how genuine this type of embrace is. This is how you hold people. And, now, this is how you hold him.

"Thank you, Dick. Thank you." Comes your muffled reply into his chest.

The way you nuzzle into him like that's where you belong, because that's where you do belong, and the way you say his name causes his heart to melt. And, his mind to slowly sinks into the puddle it became.

Dick could stay like this for hours, but you start to pull away after a solid minute.

"I should let you get going. I know you got a lot of stuff to do." Your words sound so hopeful and understanding as you him go. The way you look up at him like he is your hero just for this simple small thing is touching.

Inwardly, he curses. The criminals of Gotham. The criminals of Blüdhaven, the team, the family, his schedule. Everything. He curses it all for that moment, because he could be holding you to his chest longer and having you look up at him like that instead. But, he lets it pass. He manages to let it go just as you pull away.

"Yeah, I do. But, don't think I'm going to brush off helping my favorite person in the world." Plastering on a well practiced pretty smile as he speaks.

"So, that means you got somebody more important off world? I see how it is." You tease in return as you fall for the practiced charm.

"Maybe." Dick lets the banter easy his mind. In reality, even off this world, you're probably his favorite, still. It should scare him, but it doesn't. "I'll let you know how Bruce takes the request. But, I'm prepared to sneak you out of here if necessary."

"I'll get the spy music ready, just incase." Things are starting to look up, and it's nice to have someone in your corner in this massive estate.

"Mission Impossible theme?" His grin become less practiced at the thoughts of having an adventure with you.

"Nah, the Pink Panther one. Just for the shenanigans." Your own grin growing wider and wider.

"Now I want to sneak you out just for fun." And, he means it. Already mentally planning your trip back home with him escorting you. And, then you possibly coming and staying in Blüdhaven with him in his guest room. Just to get you out of the manor, of course. Clearly you need it.

He can't ignore the way his pocket keeps buzzing, though. Clearly the others are in the cave waiting for him. But, they can wait a bit longer, he thinks diving in for one last embrace.

As you wholeheartedly reciprocate, he can see one of the secret security camera out the corner of his eye and he can't stop the smug smile from forming on his face as his gives you one last squeeze in front of it.

With the way his phone stills, he can tell the rest of them saw. It's not his fault they're too scared of physical affection to actually hug you. But, it does give him a monopoly on it with you.

As he makes his way down to the Batcave there's a skip in his step and that smug smile is still on his face.

He makes sure to look at everyone's faces as he joins them. Soaking up their envy. All of that wasn't to make them jealous, but it's kind of nice to have.

"Was all that necessary, Grayson?" Damian being the first to break the silence by practically spitting the words out through his gritted teeth. Even with his perfect poster the tension coiling in his limbs is visible to the untrained eye.

"Someone's got to be the one to do it, little D. And, clearly, they needed it." Dick's tone was placating, but his smile wasn't. The way he stands in the center of the room reminiscent of an orchestra conductor.

"Don't use them as an excuse for your touch-starved tendencies, Dick." Barbara retorted, rolling in her chair towards another computer. She immediately began typing on it at a furious pace, clearly trying to distract herself.

"Low blow, Babs." He whistled in return. Everyone else seemed focused on giving him the silent treatment causing his grin to widen further. "I can't help that I'm a naturally-"

"I just texted Bruce about it." Duke suddenly says, looking up from his phone with a smug grin. He face had been blank before, but the way his eyes glanced up at Dick and the others when there heads jerk towards him showed off a hint of self-satisfaction.

"That's cheating." Childishly spills from Dick's mouth. This was suppose to be his favor to them. His. Not anyone else's.

"Bruce doesn't get text while in the Watchtower." Stephanie points out while uncurling from her seat, but the damage is done.

"Could we contact Father in the Watchtower?" Damian practically leaps from his seat and rushes to the Batcomputer where Tim sits. Alliances quickly being drawn up.

"He'd be pissed if we contacted him for something like this." Jason adds with a grin. He doesn't bother looking up from cleaning his guns, just not at all bothered by the prospect of pissing Bruce off.

"But, then message would be logged into the League data base." Comes Barbara's stern voice from her computer, her typing coming to a pause. Tim still keeps at whatever he was working on before Dick walked into the cave, but on the screen there is a flash of airline websites so it's fairly easy to conclude what his plan of persuasion is.

Cassandra watches the exchange reading the emotions through everyone's movements. Silently, she throws her bid in as well. Choosing to slide over to Stephanie and signing the making of a plan.

From there it spirals into an all out argument between each and every member of the family. Debating logistics and exchanging petty insults that seems to go on for hours. Hardly anything gets done while words are being thrown around like bullets.

In the back of his mind, Dick once again curses everyone and everything for ruining this for him. But, he reassures himself, the banter from earlier comes back to him.

It's a decent plan, he thinks. Sneaking Reader out of the manor. Convincing Bruce would be ideal, but it wouldn't be the first time he's broken the rules. And, it's for their happiness and well being. They need him. They asked him for his help. Not the other's. Not anyone else's. His. Bruce will understand.

Besides, it would be nice to see the Smalltown they grew up in. It sounds like a quaint little place. What could possibly be wrong with it?

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Dion Agriche x fem! Reader.

Arranged marriage. Reader is reincarnated. Part of "Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister-in-Law!" Universe

Out of character Dion, Maria being weird and lowkey a creep, implied yandere/slight yandere themes, toxic relationship/marriage, Dion is so fucking out of character here lmao, implied obsession and forming possessive thoughts, implied stalking, implied jealousy from Dion, thoughts of murder, the Reader is lowkey enjoying Dion's physical appearance.

Suggestive, sexual fantasies, implied creampie(?), literally everything that's sexual is just a fantasy, sexually frustrated Dion.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous behaviors and actions that may take place in this piece of FICTION. Such actions should not be romanticized nor normalized as they are both extremely toxic and dangerous.

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DO NOT REBLOG FANFICTION/FAN ART DNI. DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS OR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

No tag list.

I had to edit the dni hahahaha

---

I think Dion is the type of person who prefers affection over fear.

Yes, he's a sadist. Yes, he's a horrible person and maybe even a monster. Any and all types of relationship he may have - be it platonic, familial or romantic, will absolutely be toxic due to how he is as a person. He's traumatized which explains his actions and psyche but doesn't justify it. He doesn't even attempt to.

He's fine with it. He's used to it. It was how he was raised and what he had to become in order to survive in this family. Eventually it just became the norm before he stopped caring about nearly everything, sadistic tendencies that formed as maybe a means to cope.

To be honest, he's not sure how he would have turned out if he had a loving and healthy family. He doesn't even ponder it. After all, why mull over it when he doesn't even know how families are supposed to work?

So, he cut himself off mentally from anyone and everyone.

But then you showed up.

Granted, it was an arranged marriage. Neither of you wanted it and from your behavior and actions, you dreaded being his wife. Was it because of him? His family? Both?

Dion doesn't question it, at first. He just knows that you hate it and that you fear him. Maybe not hate him, he doesn't sense that from you. Doesn't see it in your eyes whenever he's forced to interact with you or whenever you try to play the part of being a wife.

His wife.

Not a loving wife nor a spiteful one. A fearful one, an act done out of obligation lest his father decides to dispose of you. And you have enough common sense to know it won't be painless, that it'll be inhumane and have you wishing you killed yourself before the engagement party.

But Dion doesn't care. Knowing Lant, he'll just force another wife on him, wanting to shape his favorite son into another him, a younger him. He has the looks, just not the personality.

But he's not as cruel as him and you take notice of this. Of course, it's a very slow process. You stay in his presence for a few seconds longer, especially after dinner. Usually, in the beginning, you would take off immediately, excusing yourself, saying that you needed to tend to one thing or other. Obviously it was a lie but he didn't care.

You just needed to produce an heir.

"Make sure she enjoys it - it'll help with speeding up the process." His mother told him out of the blue one day, a smile on her face as her colorful parasol shields her from the sun.

He doesn't know what to say at first - this was the reason she called him out here, right after he just returned from a mission? To be told, by his own mother, to make sure his wife, you, enjoys sexual intercourse? Does it even matter if you do or don't? It's not like the either of you have a choice in the matter.

It was an obligation. A duty as a husband and a wife. Lant wanted Dion married, to have a child, preferably a son, and as Lant's child, he needed to do so. He was trained to listen and obey his father.

When Maria hears no answer, she looks at him curiously.

"Oh my... I've never seen that look on your face in quite some time..."

"... What do you mean, mother?"

What expression was he wearing?

"Hm... Nothing," she answers, smiling so innocently he could almost forget her fucked up personality. Not that he would comment on it.

"Regardless, make sure she enjoys it - it'll have her seeking you out for more. And the more you do it, the faster you'll have a child. Oh, we already performed a fertility test on the girl. She's... Extremely fertile."

Supposedly, she mentally adds.

Should he thank her? Question her? Get annoyed or feel grateful? He's not sure.

Then, he realized something -

Aside from your wedding night, he's never made a move to sleep with you.

No, rather, the most he would do is sleep in the same bed, with his back turned towards you. Maybe a brush of the shoulders if he ran into you at the hallway. Or a graze of the fingers if you handed him something - never nothing more, nothing less.

The conversation has him thinking.

He's never spared you more than a seconds glance - or at least, he thought so.

When he returns to his - your - room later that night, you're already in your nightgown reading a book. On your side of the bed, the lamp lit, your attention is drawn to him once he shuts the door. Strange. He doesn't even remember walking here.

Actually, everything became a blur after his conversation with Maria.

"Oh," you say, "you're back."

He doesn't reply. Doesn't say anything, really, only taking in the sight of you.

Hair loose, nightgown a pretty pastel pink, you look almost at home. There's still a small look of fear in those eyes of yours. You're still jumpy when instead of talking he walks over to you, stopping just an inch shy of the bed.

He knows he's imposing, a giant compares to you - you remind him of a rabbit. A cute, defenseless rabbit.

But rabbits have sex like there's no tomorrow. You don't even hold his hand.

No.

He doesn't hold your hand.

Hm. A rabbit.

How affectionate are they?

Less then you? More than you?

When his eyes travel downwards to your cleavage that peeks through the collar of your gown, he realizes he's a hungry wolf.

Strange.

He's never lusted after you.

Your skin is too bare - not enough marks. Your neck also looks so easy to strangle. What type of expression would you make if he were to wrap his hands around that neck of yours?

He's heard that some are into it. Are you?

Your lips also look lonely. And cold. Colder than his?

His attention drifts to your hands. So small compared to his. Your wrists, too. He could easily hold both in one hand, while the other could grip your waist. Or maybe your chin, if he was feeling romantic.

No.

This isn't like him.

Dion shakes his head before leaving you, walking towards the closet as he strips himself down, getting ready for bed.

It's only when he lays down does he realize he was unable to meet your eyes.

Maybe he didn't want to see the curiosity. Or the fear. Or maybe he was holding back the urge to make them full of tears, or have them full of lust as you look up at him, chest heaving and hair a mess, lips kiss swollen as he marks up your neck. He didn't finish inside on your wedding night - should he tonight? Would your cunt gape as you catch your breath, his seed leaking out and making a mess on his bed? Would you ask for more? Would he give you more?

When he takes off his shirt, the frabic almost rips from his rough treatment. He refuses to look or talk to you for the rest of the night.

Everything returned to normal after that. You didn't ask questions, rather, you looked relieved he didn't do anything. And there's a small part of him that hates it.

As a matter of fact, he's starting to hate everything about you. Your presence is becoming a thorn in his side, useless and worthless. But he wants you to look his way all the same - he's always looking for you without your knowledge, or anyone else's. He refuses to acknowledge it, at first. It's just a coincidence, it happens by chance. He's a man with no need for affection, companionship, his goal to make Roxanna cry, not to pin after you, a stranger he was forced to marry.

Pinning wasn't in his dictionary.

But he starts to notice things about you that he never did before.

You liked pretty things, even if they were... Dangerous. Roxanna was a perfect example - with golden, soft wavy hair and ruby eyes that held both innocence and contempt, you looked on in awe whenever his sister would appear. But you kept your distance, knowing that no-one in this family could be trusted. Him included.

But it didn't stop you from interacting with her, despite your cautious behavior. Roxanna was never anything but nice to you. Maybe she pitted you and maybe she even planned on freeing you, if the opportunity arises.

The thought makes him upset.

But he also notices how you sneak glances at him, especially whenever his arms are showing. You prefer it when his sleeves are rolled up, showing off the muscle while teasing the rest. He does it to tease you sometimes, a habit that's out of character for him. But the fact you find him attractive eases some of this... Growing obsession with you.

You also liked the garden, spending most of your time in the hidden corners. You would sketch the butterflies, the flowers, research them and anything else they had in the library. That was another of your favorite spots. Also hidden in a corner, you would read romance stories if you weren't interested in a new plant you discovered.

Most of them was happy, fluffly with cliches you could see from miles away - he didn't even know they had those types of books. Someone probably snucked them in behind Lant's back and managed to keep them in the library. Then again, Lant was never one to visit it.

Barely anyone did.

You also liked sweets. The food in general, actually. You weren't a picky eater, and honestly, you only felt somewhat comfortable if it was only Dion or Roxanna in the dining room with you. Roxanna because she was nice to you, didn't threaten you.

And him because he left you alone. But again, you would still sneak a glance here and there and he would too, but was more subtle about it. You never noticed.

But that's all. He didn't speak to you on a regular basis.

But that started to change, without him realizing.

"I've notice your interest in the Foxgloves. It can be used in the medicine field but that doesn't mean you can eat them. " he doesn't know why he attempted to start a conversation, especially so late at night.

He also doesn't know why he can't turn around and face you, undressing himself as well.

He's seen you undress before, even seen you take a bath (in which you hid your chest with your arms the first time, despite the bubbles covering it. But the longer you were married the less guarded you became in terms of nudity - after all, he never made a move. But you didn't try to seduce him either, didn't wear the lingerie you were given by his own mother as a wedding gift. And truthfully, he'd rather you not, the fact that she was the one who had gifted it to you made his skin crawl. No, he'd rather you choose a pair by yourself or even asked him what he would like to see you in).

There's a pause before he resumes.

"However, one of my brothers is working on making an edible version... For what reason, I don't know."

Why is he even talking to you?

His ears perk when you reply and he doesn't know why. It makes him uncomfortable.

"Oh... I see. I mean, I have been wondering how they taste for a while now... Not that I would eat them, of course." You sounded awkward, stiff. Which makes sense, as your husband barely interacts with you. But you don't sound scared.

He's disgusted with himself once he realizes that he feels relieved by it.

Your nights continue on like that.

And he started to become desperate to hear your voice. He lied to himself, of course - this wasn't possible. This had to end. But it never did.

Small conversations he would start, short, brief and straight to the point. But you never ignored them, ignored him. Because you were his wife and as his wife, it was your duty to listen to him. Talk to him if he so wished for it. Or stay in the background if he commanded you to.

Then, one day, you started the conversation first.

"Would you like a bath?"

By now, it was routine to help him undress, taking his jacket or shirt and put it in the hamper. Attempt to carry his heavy sword only to struggle with placing it on its stand. Or bringing him a rag to wipe his face with.

Doing things that a servant should have.

He hates how he likes it. Your attention on him, caring for him, even if it was out of obligation. Fuck, he hates you so much. He should... Kill you.

Yes.

If you were out of the picture, then everything would return to normal. He glances at his sword resting on its stand. But then he focuses on undoing his pants.

"... Have you bathed?"

Of course you did - you're already in your night wear. Your hair was still slightly damp and out of the corner of his eye, he could see your maid look at him with both caution and curiosity.

And you did the same.

You don't react negatively.

"Ah... I did... But..." You meekly looked to the side, weighing whatever you're about to say.

"But what?" He knew what you were going to say before you could get the words out. It was obvious. However, he just hoped his true motive (as idiotic as it was - you were his wife, he didn't need your permission to see you naked be it for sexual reasons or otherwise. But he didn't want to force you and it makes him feel sick - he shouldn't care, in all honesty. He was trained not to, so why did he) wasn't as obvious.

But you weren't stupid. And he liked that about you.

... He should really, really kill you, and soon.

But... He supposes he could think about this later.

"If... If you wish, I could help."

If this was in the beginning of your marriage you would have apologized immediately for assuming he wanted anything to begin with. Instead, you seem meek, shy even. Maybe your cheeks were heating up.

You've seen him naked before, but never touched him. And he's never touched you since the wedding.

"... I'm sore, today."

What a stupid excuse. A stupid sentence. This wasn't like him, it was stupid. What was wrong with him? Was he a school boy? Was he an idiot? He was Dion Agriche, a man with no interest, a -

He can't help but enjoy the way your nails scratch his scalp as you wash his hair. Or how gently you wash his back and he hate it. He hates you. He despises you, especially when you look him like that, especially when you treat him so gently. He doesn't need affection.

There was no use nor need for it.

But when your thumbs dig into a sore spot between his shoulder blades, just this once, he falls into temptation for something so useless.

Yes.

He'll think of a way to kill you tomorrow. Since you've been so nice to him, maybe he'll make it painless, as a thanks.

He doesn't need you in his life.

You make him soft.

[bubblewhale]

I'm just now finding out that people did not like my villain academia arc.

I truly watched bnha for the LOV (besides bkdk).

The main cast is nice and all but if i put on my critical lenses i honestly don't see the hero society as a viable option. Economically and structurally i just don't get it - it's a cult that creates celebrities/heroes who are obviously used as both propaganda and tools of war, under the guise of fighting crime. At this point, heroes serve as either military special op forces or double-agents, or even as nuke level power holders. Either way, they are totally dehumanised soldiers. On the other end, the hero cult itself triggers people becoming villains. It does so by blaming individuals for becoming villains, even when it's obvious that they are direct results of wider structural societal problems. It's shown many times how hate can manifest in families as perfectionism, abuse, obsession, suppression, phobia (Shoto, Dabi, Shigaraki, Toga), poverty and human trafficking (Hawks) and xenophobia and racial (?) discrimination with mutants (Spiner).

The only moment i was hopeful they're gonna address the structural problems was the liberation army attack on the hospital in the war arc. But what was crazy to me is that the hero society held a war prisoner in the basement of a public hospital - using a civilian shield tactic, which is considered a war crime. Spiner's character arc is also extremely sad and unhelpful. Even the school itself becomes a military stronghold.

For the question of family dynamics we get Endeavor atonement arc. But we also get a scene which implies that he sa'd his wife (as if the fact that she was sold to him wasn't enough). The one scene that wasn't believable to me at all was Rei coming to visit Endeavor in the hospital. God bless Shoto, that kid is so strong, understanding perfectly Endeavor is to blame for all that. But it shows that in case of powerful men, sa and child abuse are not treated as crimes, as they should be.

Hawks is another great example of literally being sold and used, similar to Lady Nagant - and nothing is gained from their arcs in the sense of revealing the hidden corruption. Both of them side with the "hero" side in the end, the side that made them do their dirty work for them. He even becomes a murderer because of this but still manages to keep in the public’s good graces by acting as if killing is something he had to do for the greater good, same reason he sided with Endeavor.

Toga is a brilliant representation of discrimination towards a sexual minority but then she dies to save a hero she loves. It's tragic, honestly.

Deku is the only one trying to do something and helping (Shoto, Bakugo, All Might and Shigaraki are some examples) people change their mind and views on heroism/what it means to live righteously. I haven't read the manga so i don't yet understand what Deku losing his quirk could mean but honestly this AFO-OFA tug of war is the most boring part to me.

The show still mostly puts everything down to individual level and blames the villain or makes it somehow personal responsibility of heroes to deal with it.

Thus the league of villains becomes the focal point of the show - their double bind with AFO on one end and heroes on the other.

It just bugs me that the whole show could be read as cop/military propaganda and that our protagonists are basically glorified cops. This is why vigilante Deku arc was so exciting, finally! And this is why the whole concept of the show would be very different if it was made from LOV's pov from the start.

As it is, there's lots of bright and shiny feathers but not much substance in the show. The biggest stars of the show are personal tragedies, sometimes out-shining the main plot and gloriously failing to tie into the bigger picture.

[tinydefector]

MTMTE headcanons

Some of the headcanons I have for when I write stuff for the characters. So enjoy the silly little things I think about while writing these guys

Warnings: some have nsfw content in them

Words count: 3K

Masterlist

The Scientist 

- Perceptor and Brainstorm regularly have intense debates over various sci-fi shows and movies while working. 

- Rewind is secretly a formidable DJ and often Swerve has him doing music playlist for the bar. 

- Brainstorm insists on demonstrating his latest inventions at weekly crew meetings. Most of his devices are useless or end up causing minor disasters, to the annoyance of Ultra Magnus, it has resulted in multiple new rules being made . 

- Rewind is making a documentary about life on the Lost Light. Nobody realised until he released the "behind the scenes" cut that has Magnus and Megatron both drivking energon, “I hate this crew so much” Magnus huffs, “would you rather starscream?”.

- Rewind has amassed a huge secret stash of rare historical films, songs, and books that he pirates from other planets if its stuff he himself hasn't recorded. He'll only share them if you trade rare datafiles with him. 

- Brainstorm's experiments have caused more than one shipwide malfunction or strange phenomenon. Which resulted in having to contain the humans on board after realising it affected their skin in a way that the scent made The bots extremely horny. 

Cyclonus and Tailgate 

- Cyclonus is generally stoic but has a secret sweet tooth. He can often be found sneaking snacks when he thinks no one is looking. 

- Cyclonus has accumulated a giant collection of tiny earth souvenirs for tailgate but will never admit where they come from. 

- Cyclonus indulges Tailgate's interests just to spend time with him, 

-Cyclonus has taken to meditating in the engine room with drift to get away from the daily chaos. UnfortunatelyWhirl joins them every time to "help him find his inner peace" which mostly involves strange noises and objects flying by.

-Tailgate has become convinced the Lost Light is haunted after a prank goes wrong. Now he drags Cyclonus along on nightly "ghost hunts" which mostly consist of jumping at shadows. 

- Tailgate gets very excited about trying new types of energon goodies and treats he finds on other planets. Cyclonus has to gently remind him to pace himself so he doesn't get a tank ache. 

- Thanks to his small size, Tailgate can easily squeeze into small spaces to repair things or retrieve lost items. Unfortunately he sometimes gets stuck and needs help wiggling back out which has led to some rather spicy times for himself and Cyclonus. Occasionally Whirl. 

- Tailgate is an awful shot with firearms but tries to practise constantly. The other bots have to avoid being in the line of fire during his "target practice sessions."

- Tailgate tries so hard to act tough that he sometimes comes across more adorable than intimidating. The other bots try not to laugh...most of the time.

- Tailgate has become obsessed with human paranormal investigation shows. He tries to convince everyone to do a seance in the lower cargo decks and engine room, he forgot the sparkeater was down there. 

- Tailgate loves watching old earth movies with the human crew. Rewind is always happy to supply new films from his extensive archives or record them from the humans Movie, Usb and harddrive stashes. 

Ratchet & Drift

-Drift and Ratchet have started a betting pool on how long it will take for Rodimus and Magnus to get in a screaming match this time. Ratchet always wins, Drift enjoys it. 

-Drift is somehow the richest bot on the Lost Light from his days as Deadlock, he doesn't use his shanix on himself and only spends it on people he cares for. 

- Drift meditates regularly and has tried to introduce the crew to Earth wellness practices like yoga, much to their bafflement. He enjoys practising with the human members of the ship.

- Drift meditates for hours in the cargo bay and tries to spread his philosophy of peace. It doesn't always work on this crew of hassling madmen but he does try.

- Drift meditates frequently to find his inner calm. It's one of the only things that allows him to tolerate Rodimus' antics for so long without having a breakdown over the speedster endangering himself.

-asides from Rung *cough Primus cough* Drift is one the oldest member of the crew who wasn't statused, but no one can tell due to how well he looks after himself now, but Ratchet knows how bad he used to look. 

- Ratchet has a comm channel blocked nearly every night to "discuss medical matters” it's his line to bitch talk with Rung. 

- Ratchet has a secret ship called the "USS Nail-Him-To-The-Berth", which is a small shuttle solely used to stealthily transport Drift to remote planets for romantic getaways. Drift jokingly added captain's stripes to his arms without telling him, drift was in fact the one who brought him said ship as a job gift.

- Ratchet having a secret collection of badly written medical holodramas he'll never admit to enjoying. Claims it's just for "research." But many nights you can find him, Drift and Rodimus curled up together watching them.

 

- Ratchet grumbles about why he signed up to be a doctor for a ship full of unruly idiots but deep down he cares about them all. Even Whirl...sometimes.

- Ratchet has banned Brainstorm from the medical bay after one too many experiment explosions. Now he has to do checkups in the hallway.

Megaton 

- Whenever he's frustrated, Megatron mutters to himself in ancient Cybetronian. Unfortunately, a lot of the curses and insults have been lost to time so they just sound silly now to some of the younger bots, it nearly makes Rung freeze up hearing the old text.

-Megatron has stowed away in one of the escape pods when things get too much. He leaves a note saying he needed a break, and he tries to make himself as small as he can inside the pod. 

- Megatron has started joining Swerve at the bar after shift and they've developed a genuine friendship, though Megatron still pretends he finds Swerve annoying. 

- Megatron has developed a secret hobby of arranging tiny furniture and scenes inside empty energon cubes. He claims it helps him relax. Eventually some of the humans ask him to help with arranging their own furniture 

- Megatron has a secret hobby where he writes romance novels under a pen name. He's actually quite the romantic,  quite a few bots have read his work but he rather keep it under a pen name these days after the works he used to publish. 

- Megatron has taken to leaving sticky notes reminding Rodimus of the task he has to do. It doesn't always work but it has gotten Rodimus to remember a few things. 

- Megatron writes "broadly, deeply philosophical" in his captain's log, then spends an hour ranting about the merits of proper temporal coordinates and in the end both he and Ultra Magnus tend to both have rants over how bad Rodimus’ spelling is. 

-megatron always gets roped into babysitting whatever wild creatures Whirl and Rodimus find/rescue that week. On many occasions the humans have been left in his care against his pleads. 

- Megatron has started a small garden on one of the observation decks and finds the meticulous care of plants to be a calming hobby, it had become the food score for many of the humans on board and they are rather grateful to him for the hobby. 

- During movie nights, Megatron always ends up with either (Rodimus or insert) falling asleep on his lap. 

Skids

- Skids is clueless about his own strength and accidentally breaks things all the time like datapads or fuel cubes. He apologises profusely each time.

- skids gets way too invested in holodramas and movies, and yells at characters' bad decisions. The others gently tease him for it.

- skids tried exotic new fuel mixes in the hab suite's energon dispenser that usually end up glitching it. Swerve has to come and fix it. 

- His favourite Earth movie is The Fast and the Furious because he loves seeing high-speed races, but he can never remember the characters' names. 

- He once tried to make cybertronian energon goodies for humans and ended up nearly giving one of them food poisoning, Ratchet had to inform him humans can't consume energon.

- Skids volunteers to test out new gadgets from Brainstorm but often ends up as an unwilling test subject when things go wrong. He's developed a strange immunity to most sedatives at this point.

 

- Skids loves catching up on gossip and can always be counted on to have the latest gossip. He just may not always get all the details right…

Ultra Magnus/ Minimus Ambus 

- Magnus takes Rodimus' jokes and antics way too seriously and has trouble understanding sarcasm or joking around sometimes.

- He has an extensive collection of data pads cataloguing Cybertronian laws and regulations. He reads them for fun in his spare time. 

- Magnus gets distracted while trying to scold Rodimus because he's also trying to find the words to express how disappointed he is. 

- Whenever the Lost Light encounters something unknown, Magnus volunteers to write the official first contact report in excruciating detail, complete with footnotes and bibliography, most times he also needs the input from others to help with making decent impressions. 

- Despite his stern demeanour, Magnus has been known to crack a dad joke or two when he thinks no one is listening, it starts happening more often when Megatron and he are working together. 

- In a desperate attempt to loosen up, Magnus once joined Tailgate and Cyclonus for a night of drinking. He got absolutely overcharged and started doing karaoke. It is now part of Rewind's collection of Rare footage. 

- Deep down, he's a softy for romantic holodramas. 

- Somehow Minimus Ambus accumulates a massive collection of tiny human souvenirs like shot glasses and snow globes that he treasures. He meticulously dusts each one weekly. 

- In recharging moments, Ultra Magnus mutters equations and legal codes. His docking clamp also twitches in alignment with Enforcer protocols it's another rare thing that only (Megatron/ Human insert) know about. 

- Ultra Magnus has memorised and could recite the entire Great Charter of the Functionalists as it was something he did study mainly for knowledge. 

- Ultra Magnus has hidden photos of Rodimus doing ridiculous dances and lip sync battles with humans when he thinks no one is watching Proud Dad™️. 

Rung

- Rungs office is soundproof but sometimes Megatron or Rodimus can still hear him having meltdowns after appointments with certain patients. 

- Rung has a very rare high grade collection, some of the cubes are older than bots on the ship. 

- Old war stories give Rung flashbacks, and most times he has to walk away so he doesn't try and correct people on events he was present for. 

- Deep down Rung is a bit of a gearhead and loves helping Brainstorm in the lab, but don't tell anyone - it's his little secret joy.

-To help decompress after long therapy sessions, Rung knits tiny sweaters for all the human's onboard the Lost Light. Even made oen for Miminus, as other botss find out they start asking for small requested pieces from him. 

- The other bots have a gambling pool going on about how long it will take Rung to get fed up with Rodimus' antics and throw something at him. So far no one has won. 

- Rung had an impossible time getting anyone to show up for their therapy sessions until Megatron joined, now he seems to have a Very steady flow of patients, many with Ptsd. 

- Rung has redecorated his room with alien silk cushions and incense burning meditations pods. Crew members often visit just to relax and vent about ship problems.

-Rung never truly stopped being primus. It's just after so many millions of years, he's tired and he'd rather if people could just forget. His biggest fear is that one day he might turn out just like Unicron. 

Whirl

-Whirl is always stealing Rodimus' energon drinks and mixing them with high grade. Rodimus gets plastered and wakes up in weird places without remembering how he got there. 

- Whirl loves to sneak up on Tailgate and startle him for laughs. Cyclonus threatens Whirl with dismemberment if he doesn't knock it off. 

- Whirl starts an underground gambling pool for betting on who will be the next couple to get together. Nautica and Velocity are currently the frontrunners followed closely by (insert and Bot of choice).

- He snuck into Megatron's quarters on the Lost Light and messed with all his decor, moving furniture around and putting self-portraits of himself on the walls. To this day no one knows if Megatron has noticed and why nothing was said if he had.

- Whirl hacked the shipwide intercom to play love songs on repeat for a week straight. He claimed it was for "motivational purposes" but many bots suspected he was just bored.

- No one can prove it was him, but after one of Tailgate's game nights someone released glitter bombs all over the ship that took days to fully clean up. Suspicion fell on Whirl, it was in fact Tailgate who had gotten Whirl to make it for him. 

-Whirl accidentally joining every single one of Tailgate's hobby clubs and getting waaay to into each one, to the little bot's surprise. No one knows how to tell him he's in the sewing circle by mistake. 

- Whirl hits on everything that moves, despite constant rejections. He took getting thrown in the brig by security as a good sign once. 

- Whirl talks a big game and seems chaotic, but he is actually the most mature when it comes to looking after children. When one of the humans on board had a baby he became rather protective of them and their child. It also transfers over with sparklings (if/when) they are on the ship, he and Megatron are dubbed the babysitters. 

Swerve

- Constantly redecorating the bar to try out new lighting/theme ideas. One day it's a tiki bar, next it's a speakeasy. 

- Always bugging the other bots to join in games and activities at the bar. Usually ends up being the only one participating in crafts or dance contests. 

- Clumsy and easily startled. Accidentally breaks something in the bar at least once a week through spills or failed dance moves. 

- he Makes crazy custom drinks with wild synthetic engex concoctions. Often leads to strange/funny reactions in customers. 

- Endless list of nicknames for all the other crews. Brainstorm is "Sciencebot", Rodimus is "Hotshot", etc. Loves giving codenames. 

- Secretly a shipper and enjoys gossiping about who he thinks is into who. Always trying to play matchmaker between crewmates with whirl. 

- His favourite game to play at the bar is "Who Would You Rather?" and he always chooses the wildest, most inappropriate options to get a rise out of people, he loves hassling the humans over their strange biology. 

- Swerve is secretly hoping Megatron will one day ask him to be his personal assistant. He has the whole job role planned out because Megatron would make the best security guard. Swerve's bar fights would become such a problem that Megatron would consider said roll. 

- Swerve is convinced he's going to open the best bar/restaurant in the galaxy someday. He experiments with new fuel and engex recipes in the ship's improvised kitchen to the dismay of Ultra Magnus. 

- Swerve's bar gets rowdier each week as new engex flavours are tested. Merchandise bets and wild stories are the norm. 

- Swerve refuses to let Megatron stay in his bar without paying his tab in full first. But over time he starts handing off drinks to the old war lord.

Rodimus 

- Rodimus is constantly coming up with ridiculous dares to try and get Magnus to lighten up. So far he's had one of his human companions shot whipped cream at the enforcer before they bolted". 

- Rodimus is banned from the ship's engines after the sparkeater incident, mainly for his own safety. 

- Rodimus gets distracted easily during conversations and often trails off its Megatron who's the one who realises it and gets him a large figure toy so he can keep occupied while in meetings. 

- He doodles elaborate designs for new finish styles and ship paint jobs during important briefings and lectures, much to Ultra Magnus' chagrin. Megatron tells Magnus to ignore it because it's one of the only ways Rodimus seems to take in what is being said to him. 

- His habsuite is constantly a mess of strewn tools, parts, paint and upgrades. Drift tries to tidy it and just gives up. 

- Has started using ridiculous Earth slang he doesn't fully understand like "groovy" and "far out" just to get laughs. Drives Ultra Magnus nuts, the humans find it rather amusing watching him use it in the wrong terms. 

- Secretly loves 80s hair metal music but would never admit it. But he loves listening to it in his habsuite while working on things, he loves human music alot. 

- He tries desperately to be the cool, laid back leader but is constantly stressed and awkward. Inside he's a nervous wreck, worried that no matter what he does he's living in Optimus' shadow as a prime. 

- Rodimus stays up late watching Earth romcom movies and serial melodramas to get leadership tips, but mostly just ends up confused, he loves cuddling with (insert) as they explain the plot for him to make it slightly easier for him to understand. 

- He compulsively taps his pedes when anxious and doesn't realise he's doing it. Megatron is the one who normally send him away knowing that the more tapping the less Rodimus is listening when he's in this state. 

- His favourite Earth beverage is monster energy drinks, which the humans find rather amusing. (Energy Fluid au, he takes one mouthful and nearly spits it back out. “WHY ARE YOU ALL DRINKING TRANSFLUID!?!?” it leads to a lot of discoveries with *human insert*) He hassles them a lot with the promise of their favourite drink, no this dirty pervert instead just fills cups with transfluid and tells them that he has his own secret stash of monsters. As it gets around alot more bots start to get rather interested in how the humans had a drink that was pretty much the flavour of their transfluid. 

[farnese0]

I cannot emphasize enough how much I hate the treatment Casca gets as a character after The Golden Age (I have some problems even with her characterization after she fell for Guts during that same arc, but those are minor complaints compared to the state of current Casca).

The first complaint would absolutely be the treatment of her situation as an SA survivor. I don't think her trauma is ever explored on a deeper note, nor her actual pain for the whole situation she got trapped in. The focus of her rape isn't on her, it's always on Guts' pain and Guts' feelings about it, backed up by actual interviews in which Miura stated he made the rape scene just for the eclipse to be more painful for Guts. The rape itself is drawn in a way that makes it extremely uncomfortable to witness, not for its brutality nor because you feel the pain she's feeling, but because it's drawn as if it was a non-con hentai, something that always disturbed me. How come the same person who put so much heart and genuine care into realistically depict Guts' trauma as a survivor could do something so distasteful ?

That event would curse her character into becoming a complete tool for the story and its male characters to use. During the eclipse her body serves as a mere object for Griffith to project his pain onto Guts, the same Guts that thinks about raping her as a way to get closer to Griffith. The same Guts that on a lot of occasions thinks about abandoning her to chase after Griffith, and that a lot of times treat her as an inconvenience. Even after getting her sanity back, she can do nothing but become a narrative tool to give Guts' a reason to chase after Griffith again.

During the Golden Age she was interesting, but she's always been "a girl in love", always pining for some guys. Griffith didn't want her so she got with Guts instead, to cure their mutual obsession with the man. I hope the manga doesn't end with Casca staying romantically involved with Guts, because to me their relationship never felt genuine. Casca in the narrative is something Guts use to delude himself into thinking he would ever be able to just let go of Griffith and forget all that happened.

In the current arc, after being kidnapped, she's getting dressed in fancy clothes, dreaming and sleeping, while Guts is more concerned about his sword than he is for her. I don't think she would ever recover from this character assassination, but I do hope she gets a bit of autonomy in the end.

[itsdrkel]

It's sad to see how the Voices of the Void become such a gross fanbase. The whole fanbase have become litter with NSFW and Gooners. I genuinely don't get why out of all games, a wage slave simulator has such a degenerate community. I mean. Nose himself is a degenerate who think sex is somehow funny. It's pretty annoying and I could probably count how many times nose has said sex randomly in the server or make a sex reference. But the whole issue comes when the fanbase, and discord server have a lot of minors. People there, and there are adults in the same community being extremely weird publicly. And then there is Erie that he inserted the game. I didn't think too much of the character until dev continuously shove the character in the game over and over again. I can't be the only one who is getting weirded out and annoyed to see that same character being added as a naked statue, a plushie, a kerfur skin and now a bikini model. And what I heard from other people that Erie is this fetishized sex character that the dev have become so obsessed with. Don't anybody else find this bad? The fanbase is full of minors and Nose is planning on putting it onto steam. Once the game is mainstream, shit will get out of hand so badly.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

idk if you take anon requests but I am in love with Yandere ruthless and bloodthirsty Pirate captain who's obsessed with a princess from a small kingdom and takes her as wife in exchange for not plundering the kingdom and bleeding out their resources. He had planned for their first evening together to be romantic but she looks too tempting when she's frightened

🌹

CW: Extremely rough smut, sadistic behavior, bodily harm, knife play, blood, minor character death, dead dove

Edward listened to two of his crew members gossiping like handmaidens, feeling only mildly annoyed at their squawking. Usually by now he would have threatened to pull out their teeth to keep them quiet, but he secretly could understand their excitement. While pirates were blamed for anything that could go wrong on the open seas, they were actually often employed by nobility to do what their navies could not do legally. Still, it was a surprise to be extended a job offer from a large kingdom, considering Edward's notoriety.

Edward "The Living Death".

There wasn't a crew as fearsome as his. He had never worked for any of the self righteous kings or queens in the past who conscripted pirates for their aid, not because he thought too highly of himself, but because the stories of his wrath scared all the rich bastards away. And the stories were not exaggerations. Edward aimed to make himself the most terrible in the world, because while it was too late to ever be let into heaven, it wasn't too late to become powerful enough to kill Satan himself.

For an entire week the crew would be guests in the sea side kingdom, while The Living Death and two of his men would be welcomed into the castle for negotiations.

It was entertaining, being welcomed onto a king's land, and Edward was curious as to what King was so insane as to ask for his assistance, knowing that Edward was the type of man to torture sailors for sport.

The ship with black sails tied off on the dock of the grey and dull harbor. Although the carriage that awaited Edward was gaudy with its elaborate engravings, the buildings were drab and pitiful. Truly, a thriving kingdom. And the large castle that towered above the impoverished residents was just the icing on the cake. To enter the grounds a large gate had to be slowly opened, physically alienating the royals from their subjects.

The attendant waiting to take Edward and his mates to the study felt his jaw fall agape at the sight of the men. What parts of their bodies were visible were covered in deep scars, the men were large and intimidating, but the leader was almost inhumanly frightening, unnaturally blue eyes that almost looked blind pierced his soul through a mop of shaggy black hair.

Edward met with the king for introductions, however was politely dismissed to the rooms they would be staying in for a bath and meal, promising to begin negotiations the next day.

However, he couldn't expect pirates to do as he asked so blindly, so after his shower and a free change of clothes, Edward decided to wander the gardens, internally arguing with himself over what he is doing in a king's estate. Then he saw her.

A woman in a beautiful, yet simple, dress was being followed by a maid, chatting kindly with one another despite the class difference. From afar her voice touched something in Edward's spirit; a longing he hadn't been able to quench on the ocean.

Marilyn tensed up and fell back behind (Reader) where she was supposed to be, generally. (Reader) looked ahead to see what had frightened her handmaid, and witnessed a man she did not know approaching the both of them.

"Greetings, ladies." His voice was gravelled and exhausted, tugging on (Reader's) heartstrings. From under the stranger's freshly washed hair (Reader) could see a long scar between his eyes, matching the scars that littered the hand he offered to (Reader).

"Good sir." (Reader), without hesitation, responded with an extended hand. Marilyn audibly choked behind her, having to physically bite her tongue to prevent herself from shouting at the man to 'step off!'

Wind burnt lips kissed the back of (Reader's) hand, holding it for an inappropriate amount of time, yet (Reader's) expression of genuine kindness never changed. "You clearly do not know who I am." Although it was said with a smirk his tone was dangerous.

"Just as you clearly do not know of me." (Reader) held herself tall, praying that the man before her was not important enough to feel offended by her ignorance.

Edward's eyes sparkled beautifully as he straightened his back, as to tower over the lovely lady he had just met. The movement shifted his hair, better showcasing not only his eyes but the giant scar stretching from his hairline to the bridge of his nose. "I am here on business."

"What a coincidence." (Reader) smiled coyly. "As am I."

What is this feeling? Edward had many effects on women, fear, disgust, loathing, lust. But the smile on (Reader's) face was honest. Like a child who hasn't yet learned to fear the evils of men, her eyes were clear and unclouded, looking not at his scars, but his eyes; numb to the stench of blood he could never scrub himself clean of, the lamb had no clue she was speaking to a wolf, and he wasn't even in disguise.

"What kind of business does a lady have with a disgusting fool like this king?"

(Reader) gasped, taken back by his words, smiling nervously behind her fan. "Good sir, you just be careful with the way you speak about a king! I will not report you, but others shall not be so kind.." Concern laced her words as she searched the surroundings for eavesdroppers.

"The King knew who I was when he hired me, so he shouldn't be offended by my language."

"Still..." (Reader) sighed. "Well, if you are so curious, I'm here because of a marriage proposition."

"Marriage?" The idea irked Edward, and he had to hold back his hand from almost instinctively lashing out. What a strange reaction, feeling peeved over the possible engagement of a woman he's just met.

"Indeed, strange isn't it? I always knew marriage would one day come, but.. it is still quite the adventure." Her grin tightened, but it wasn't a happy smile, the expression felt more like a mother's attempt to console her frightened child.

There was an odd glow to (Reader's) eyes, and Edward was suddenly under the impression that the woman before him was secretly an angel, sent in disguise to test him, to see if Edward truly did long for the throne of hell. Again, his arm tried to move on it's own accord. What if, instead of allowing such an angel to return to heaven with her report on him, he caged her like a little song bird and ripped off her wings?

"I apologize, Miss, but I must cut our conversation short. Any longer and I might gouge out your eyes." Edward spoke with a smile, revealing his sharpened canines. But again, (Reader) surprised him, giggling back at him as though he had just made a light-hearted joke, while her maid behind her was grasping her breast like she was having a heart attack.

"Well, I shall keep a spoon in my pocket in case we need again!" (Reader's) laughter filled the garden.

She curtsied, back still straight and head dipped only as low to be polite. The maid, on the other hand, was practically folded in half and was bent down for so long she had to scurry after her lady.

As the mystery woman left, Edward had a lot of strange, foreign thoughts and feelings causing chaos in his mind and heart. He briefly fantasized about running after her, and taking her for himself behind a bush while her maid screamed for help. He had seen plenty of women's bodies before, but the fantasy of what could be hidden by his mystery lady's bodice was.. tantalizing.

Would she be impressed by his body? Or fearful? What kind of face would she make as he forced her to carry his children? Would she look at him with love and tenderness during the birth of their first born? Would she bite and scream and fight?

Edward discovered that he would have to return to his room prematurely, perplexed as to who that woman was, and why she had such an effect on him, causing an arousal despite not saying, or doing, anything sexually exciting.

Marilyn smacked her princess on the shoulder, red in the face and mouth frozen in horror. "My lady! I can't believe you!"

"What? Did my joke not make sense?" (Reader) asked in earnest. "I said I'd carry a spoon, so he had something to easily scoop my eyes out with."

"Not that, you-you- IMBECILE!" Marilyn cried out, grasping the lady she adored like a sister. "That man was The Living Death!"

"Oh. He didn't look dead to me." Another slap connected with the back of her neck.

"He was a pirate! A pirate!"

"A pirate? What was he doing here?" (Reader) nervously pondered, examining her maid's expression to see if she was pulling her leg.

"I don't know, but you should write a letter to your father immediately. No good man would want his daughter marrying into a family that deals with rotten apples."

After the sun rose into the dreary kingdom, Edward and his mates were finally invited into King Nikolai's study, meeting the rotund bastard who reeked of wine and pulled at his codpiece frequently.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today, gentlemen. You've saved me from an uncomfortable situation. That is, if you agree to my request."

"Well, let's not make this longer than necessary." Edward spat in disgust, feeling as though he would catch syphilis from just speaking with his potential employer.

"My son, my heir, has two marriage candidates. Two worthy marriage candidates. My friend, King Leopold has a, frankly stupid, daughter, Princess Cadence. Leopold and I decided long ago that his daughter should marry my son, and become queen when he surpasses me. Now the issue is King Dretious. His kingdom is.. small, but not unimpressive. It thrives wonderfully. He has only two daughters, pitiful him. The eldest is being trained to be his successor, which is wonderful for him since he was blessed with bright and charismatic daughters, but no man who marries her well become King, so there is no incentive there to send even my sons I dislike. The youngest, is a perfect marriage candidate. Princess (Reader). Intelligent, charming, attractive.." He took a ragged breath, his mind traveling to where it should not. "I desire her land. If she marry my son I'd have access as family to her resources, and in a generation or two my grandchildren could gain control of that little rock. But it isn't worth ruining my relationship with Leopold. That would be.. catastrophic."

Edward numbly wondered if the young woman he met was Princess Cadence, or Princess (Reader). In the short time he spent with her she certainly didn't seem stupid, so he was leaning towards the latter.

"But I want that land. Do you understand me?" King Nikolai's smile was sinister. "You can have whatever is in their castle, whatever can be looted, as long as I receive the deeds to their nation, signed and stamped, and King Dretious and his kin are exterminated."

"And what do we get? If I wanted to plunder a small country, I could do that without needing permission."

"Full, under the table, immunity, as well as enough money for you and your crew to retire in the Caribbean as lords." He was so smug as he pleaded his bargain that Edward considered killing him just to see him choke on his own blood.

Edward stood, walking around the king towards the window, debating whether or not it would be worth it to kill the fat asshole right then and there. But below the window, under a flowered tree, sat the woman he met the day before, watching birds as they flew overhead. "I met a young lady in the garden yesterday. She said she was here for a marriage proposition."

"Hmph, yes.. attractive, isn't she? That would have been Princess (Reader). She is unaware of her competition with Leopold's daughter, so it would have been unwise to have them both here at the same time."

(Reader) had her lips pursed, upset about something. 'How would those lips taste?' Edward thought excitedly.

"We'll do it." Edward spoke loudly, startling his men who were surprised by the boss's response.

His men questioned him on the way back to the ship. Surely he wasn't serious? Of course not... Captain Edward "The Living Death", the man who abandoned his family name, had a plan, one that he had come up with purely for selfish reasons, that did not include sucking up to a disease ridden rat. And he assured them, that after he got what he wanted, the crew would return, and burn King Nikolai's kingdom to the ground.

The wonderfully jolly, soft King Dretious, known for being unlike the cruel kings who ruled throughout the land, plump with age instead of greed, was petrified solid. The elderly father who was seen as a grandfather figure to his small island, blessed by the gods to always have the wisdom to do what was right, was stunned, incapable of coherent thought. Before him was a pirate captain who had demanded an audience, two months after his darling baby girl returned home from another country.

"What did you just say?" He stuttered out.

Edward stood beneath the kindly king sitting on his throne while wearing an ostentatiously decorated black frock coat, shining with it's abundance of gold decorations and precious jewels. His unnaturally bright eyes were fixated on the mortified princess standing behind her father.

"I have been hired to bring ruin to your kingdom. However, if you offer me a better prize than what I was promised by my employer, I'll reconsider my agreement with him." His gaze made (Reader's) skin crawl.

King Dretious swallowed the lump in his throat. "And what would that be? Whoever had the gall to request such a reason clearly had the resources to hire you, so I doubt anything of mine will compare."

"True. However, it isn't your money I'm after.." Edward stepped forward, still fixated on the younger princess will a hungry expression.

The eldest sister recognized the look of a predatory man before her father did, and stepped in front of (Reader) in a protective stance.

"I demand Princess (Reader's) hand in marriage."

"No!" The eldest princess spun around, grabbing onto (Reader) and hiding her within her embrace. "Father, you can't!"

"Please, Captain, isn't there anything else?" The King frantically begged, knowing that his army wasn't enough against The Living Death and his infamous crew of the damned.

Edward sighed, his patience wearing thin. With a snap of his fingers, his men brought forward four captives; the cook, two guards, and Marilyn. "Let's try that again." The demon spawn pulled out a gun and cocked it, aiming it at the older guard.

"Let's be civil-"

The King was cut off by a loud shot, killing the innocent man who had been a loyal employee of the castle for the past thirteen years. (Reader) hollered, frightened by the sudden bang.

Edward moved over to Marilyn, pulling down the hammer slowly. "No!" (Reader) burst free from her sister, running down the steps to fling herself onto her only friend's body, ready to be her shield.

"(Reader)!"

(Reader) cradled her maid, glaring through tears up at the man she foolishly thought was handsome only a couple of months ago. "I'LL DO IT! I'll do it! Just please.. no more."

Marilyn sobbed under (Reader's) weight. "Princess, no! Please - save yourself!"

"Sister, come back here now." The queen to be demanded, shaking and on the brink of tears herself.

Edward smiled wider than before, holstering his weapon. "Wise choice, angel." He turned his attention back to the King. "I hope you don't mind that there will be no wedding. For you see, God has no place in my life, even for happy occasions. I've already procured a marriage contract, so once it is signed that shall be that."

A calloused hand reached out to the princess.

"Shall we?"

The country was in mourning as the news of the princess's sacrifice spread faster than a plague, and nearly the entire country arrived to see her off as she boarded the pirate ship with black sails, stiffly shuffling next to her new husband, the certificate signed and verified only an hour prior. On what should be one's happiest day, the air was filled with sounds of heart breaking agony. (Reader) was numbly dragged onto the ship and into the captain's quarters, no longer a princess, but a wife to a monster.

Edward locked the door behind them, smiling wolfishly. "Welcome, to your new home, darling. Unfortunately, we will have to prolong our honeymoon, as I have a country to conquer."

"What?!" (Reader) collapsed before her new husband, clutching onto his shirt. "But you promised!"

"Ah, apologies, love, but I did not mean your old country." He pulled her onto her feet, kissing her knuckles. "I meant the country that asked me to kill you. Now that you are my wife, I can't stand for such insolence, now can I?"

(Reader) pulled away, eyes wide with disgust. "Was this your plan from the start? If you never truly cared, then why take me? Whatever loot you plunder from whoever it was that employed you will surely be worth more than my father's entire island, so if you had no qualms about taking on a presumably larger nation-state, then why?"

"You are a smart one." Edward chuckled, approaching (Reader) with a look she had never seen before, yet for some reason set her on edge. "I did it because I wanted you."

He lunged, tackling her onto a large bed covered in silk and furs. She struggled, fighting with all her might to push him off of her, but she just wasn't strong enough. (Reader) bit her lip in an effort to not cry again, a pitiful attempt to retain her pride.

"So strange.. I have had whores throw themselves at me many times in the past, but they were nothing but bodies. What is it about you that is so different?"

Nothing but bodies.. (Reader) had learned from Marilyn what happens on a woman's wedding night, but in the chaos of her marriage she had forgotten that that was what this was, her wedding night. Her face fell, tears whelmed up in her puffy red eyes, and her resolve to look brave cracked.

But this expression seemed to only excite the mad man further. His blue eyes grew hazy like he was drunk and his breathing became irregular. "So that's what you would look like.. I wondered."

A large knife was procured from behind his back, causing (Reader) to cry harder. With sadistically slow movements he cut through her dress. She made pathetic attempts to swipe at him, but Edward only responded by effortlessly flipping her onto her belly, slicing through the lace of her corset.

"So many layers to finally see the body I've been dreaming of. That will change, of course. If I want to see your beauty, I will. Even if you must live in the nude."

He ignored her screams as he tore off every article of clothing she wore, leaving (Reader) naked and shivering beneath him.

"Is it me that makes you shudder like this, or is it," he placed the blade against (Reader's) cheek, earning another gasp as her body practically convulsed, "either way, I'll pretend that your shaking is in excitement for me."

With (Reader) now on her back, Edward held the knife to her throat to prevent her from running while he removed his own clothing with one hand. Her sobs only grew louder as more of his scarred skin became visible.

"Please do-don't do this!"

"Don't what? Make love to my newlywed wife? Fine then. I'll fuck you instead."

His pants slipped down, revealing his fully erect manhood. (Reader) closed her eyes in shame, but Edward grabbed her face with enough force to bruise her chin, snapping them back open in shock of the pain.

"Look at what you've done to me. Without grabbing at my pants and begging me like a slut, you've already made my cock like this. Don't you feel special, knowing that you have that effect on your husband." Edward continued squeezing his bride's face painfully, forcing her to nod in agreement.

The tip of the knife drug down her skin without enough pressure to cut, but enough for (Reader) to feel the cold threat tingling and creating goosebumps, traveling teasingly from her breasts and over her quivering stomach, stopping at her exposed cunny. (Reader) felt the metal touch her where she was told never to touch herself, and was consumed by humiliation.

"Unfortunately for you, it seems that your modest body has not prepared itself for me. I would have taken the time to wetten your cunt, but as per your request, I am not to make love to you, but to fuck you."

"What does that-" a searing pain electrocuted her body as (Reader's) dry pussy was stretched over Edward's dick. Her throat was aching from all the screaming, but that didn't stop the sounds of agony from shrieking out.

He held himself inside of her, relishing in the feeling of her twitching hole tightening almost unbearably around him. For a brief moment, Edward's heart swelled with love, and he considered licking his fingers to provide his wife with lubrication, but the look on her face.. just from entering her (Reader) became so red she was almost purple, eyes flickering as though she were to pass out. It was too beautiful for words.

As he pulled out it caused an awful friction that (Reader) swore she could hear, an awful shuk shuk shuk as Edward removed himself, only to slam back in. It felt like she was being torn apart. He continued thrusting into her rapidly swelling sacred place. The tearing sensation morphed into a burning one, as her blood slickened her hole.

His movements only sped up, pounding into his bruised and bloody princess. (Reader) began to adjust to the pain, and started to push against Edward's chest, desperate enough to fight against him despite his knife still being held to her thigh.

Suddenly, (Reader's) legs were raised and folded back, pressing down into her arms to prevent her from moving. She pulled and struggled, disgusted by the wet noise as Edward's hips connected with hers, uncomfortably aware of his pelvis grinding against her sore clit. Edward grabbed her face again, popping her jaw open and sliding his knife into her mouth.

"Don't struggle, or you just might cut out your tongue." The man threatened, his malicious words clashing with the intense lust in his eyes.

(Reader's) nose scrunched up as she tried to glare at Edward, unable to spit out the knife because of his hold on her face.

"Ah, continue looking at me like that!" He sang with praise, his legs twitching with anticipation. "I'm about to cum!"

(Reader) didn't quite know what that meant, but she could feel him throbbing inside of her.

"I was going to wait until you've gotten used to being my wife, but I think I'm going to cum inside you! Fuck, I'm going to put my babies in you! I'm going to knock you up!"

Learning what was about to happen, (Reader) tried to scream without bumping the knife in her teeth.

Suddenly, the knife was thrown across the room, replaced by Edward's lips, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth as he climaxed deep in his wife's raw pussy. (Reader) didn't know if it was because she was aware that he was cumming inside of her, or if it was because of the paper thin cuts along her vaginal wall, but the fluid pumping into her was horrendously hot, burning her abused body.

He collapsed onto her, still kissing her passionately, tasting the lips he had craved since he first met her. When Edward pulled away, admiring the unbroken string of saliva connecting him to his lover, he knew why he had been so enamored with (Reader) since the beginning.

"I'm so excited to drag you down into hell with me, princess." 'There will be no escape from me. You are my gift from Satan, my little angel. You belong to me.'

[indigo-casson]

something that i've been thinking about lately is the parallels between star wars: andor/rogue one and tamora pierce's trickster's queen duology. primarily because the star wars brainrot is real and the tamora pierce obsession is forever, but also because they are kind of both tonal and thematic departures from their main 'verses in some similar ways?

in both the star wars verse and the tortall verse, the majority of the media has focused on one individual (or a small group of individuals) who make a profound difference in the world. Whether that's alanna singlehandedly finding the dominion jewel/becoming king's champion/making way for female knights, or luke skywalker blowing up the death star, or daine and numair going to the divine realms during the immortals war, or anakin skywalker becoming a sith and dooming the republic, most of the original material has seen battle and political change as something that is affected by either an actual chosen one or simply a single very plucky and well-placed individual.

trickster's queen and andor, however, really look at rebellion as something that has to be done by a diverse group of flawed people who work together despite their differences. mon mothma knows that her role is raising money. ulasim, chenaol, and the other members of the raka conspiracy each take their individual roles in the rebellion, and recognize that even though they might not want to work with aly or the luarin nobility, they need their skills and influence to make it happen.

both stories also show rebellion as extremely costly and something that requires making tough calls. nobody has their hands clean by the end of a civil war. notably, trickster's queen explicitly narrowly avoids having the protagonists kill a group of 5 year olds. luthen is ready to kill cassian when he becomes a liability, and cassian does kill lots of people, including some allies whose only "crime" is being susceptible to giving up rebellion secrets.

in rogue one, we don't like davits draven because he orders jyn's father killed, and that just feels wrong. jyn is our heroine and it upsets her, so emotionally it's distressing. but of course, draven and cassian and jyn are all working towards the same goal. draven did what he had to--galen erso is a liability as long as he's alive. dove and sarai's little brother elsren has to die because he's a direct heir to the throne, ahead of his sisters. it doesn't matter that he's five and totally innocent. as long as he lives, a luarin has a greater claim to the throne than a raka, and as long as that's true, the rebellion can't succeed.

in the star wars original trilogy, people for sure die! i'm not trying to say that they don't, but it's definitely not something that's shown affecting our protagonists on a deep, emotional level. they're all side characters, or else they come back as force ghosts. the prequels are uh. fucking tragic, but at the end of it, almost all of our heroes make it out. even the casualties of the war are droids vs clones, which is to say, totally interchangeable cannon fodder on both sides!

the number of character deaths in the tortall 'verse is fewer, probably because it's primarily created for middle grades, but even when people do die, they're either demonstrably bad people or minor enough characters that the emotional resonance isn't the same.

by contrast, at the end of trickster's queen, almost the majority of the main conspirators die in battle, not to mention those who don't even make it to the final conflict. at the end of rogue one, all of our heroes are dead, and people aren't exactly making it out of andor s1 in good shape either. more than half of the aldhani team dies on that mission.

I could go on further, but I think my main takeaway is that once you've invested a lot of time and attention and fandom into a 'verse, you have a lot more leeway to tell different kinds of stories. tamora pierce could not have written trickster's choice until after the values and world of tortall were so clearly established, and if she had, it wouldn't have had the impact that it did. similarly, part of what makes rogue one/andor so striking is the fact that it is such a departure from the preexisting values and story format of star wars.

for every chosen one we see in media, there are hundreds of people working behind the scenes to make their big, death star destroying moment possible. the only way to improve society is through collective action, and part of that is that everyone's hands are going to get dirty. i think lots of people want to imagine that they could be like luke skywalker and swoop in 2 weeks before the battle of yavin and become a hero, but the fact of the matter is that that's not how the world works! war requires us to do things that would ordinarily go against our values, but in the context of a drawn out, bloody, thankless battle, maybe we decide the ends justify the means.

[if-childrenofiona]

✧ DEMO

LCOF is a +17 IF with heavy themes of murder, gore, cults, obsessive behavior, etc. Many run to Iona's Temple. Perhaps to escape hunger or the touch of death. You aren't sure why. No one is. All you know is that you're among them.

Play disguised as a Child of Iona, the loyal follower of the moon Goddess, Iona. Kept in the temple by day and let out to serve your duties by night. Navigate the mystical kingdom of Gilhanna. Whether you make rivals or friends, it's up to you. Or risk your life to pursue something more; you swore to remain devoted to Iona and Iona alone. Above all, stay hidden!

Everything was wrong— very wrong. Your father was never one to change his mind. Let alone reveal you to the public eye. And yet, he let you attend the Feast of Xihnir? It was a night of happiness, of celebration. And it'll be a night ingrained in your memory forever.

Especially after witnessing your father slaughtered like a lamb before the Divine Lord of Hexma. Since then, you've learned how deep Xihnir's murderous and twisted fascination with you goes.

Fleeing to the neighboring kingdom, Gilhanna, you find a place to escape the pursuits of your father's killer. Hoping to find peace while masked as a Child of Iona. You've enjoyed seven years of peace now. You're sure more is still to come.

Yet, the sudden appearance of a wounded stranger brings rapid talk of the Divine Lord's armed forces praying upon Gilhannian borders. You can't let yourself be reduced to running, hiding — surviving. Nor will you allow yourself to be caught in Xihnir's crooked grasp. Will you give up the identity of this mysterious stranger to protect your own?

Fully customize MC's appearance, personality, gender identity, and sexuality.

Choose between a variety of given trades to influence your character's nature and story! (i.e., swordsman, musician, scholar, weaver, dancer, or merchant.)

Hone your skills!

Become a genuine follower of Iona or exploit this exalted position for your own gain.

Make meaningful choices that will shape your future and the relationships of people around you.

Forge lasting friendships or begrudging enemies.

Eight ROs total— two secret romances. (one minor, one major)

XHILO ✧ XOLA, HOUSE OF AKTER. Your companion with a short temper and an even shorter attention span. You found them cowering in an alley the night you left and have been hiding from Xihnir's forces together since then. Meek and quiet but sometimes has a lot to say. Extremely suspicious and distrusting of newcomers. You think they may still be a bit wary of you.

SILAS ✧ SHILA, CHILD OF IONA. The mean-spirited shepherd who works with you in the temple. At one point, you both were friends, though you're not sure what made them act so cold towards you. Though, that time is very distant. However, one thing hasn't changed: their love of their flock and slightly awkward disposition around new groups of people.

KNOX ✧ KORA, HOUSE OF YARROW. "Eccentric," as the townspeople like to put it. You've only seen them keep to themselves; they're never seen without a notebook. In daylight, their face is tired and worn. You catch them sneaking over the temple walls at night as if hiding one big secret. Some nights, you catch them singing beautiful melodies before running away after they sense someone's listening.

PRINCE LIROY ✧ PRINCESS LORELAI, THE CROWN HEIR OF GILHANNA. Emperor and Empress Jung's firstborn. They are known throughout the kingdom as the epitome of sophistication and stoicism. You don't know much about the Crowned Heir except their duties to the country come first, and they hold them quite dear. A bit too dear.

PRINCESS DELILAH ✧ PRINCE DION, THE HEIR OF DANCE. The royal Jung's second born. A soft but refined beauty. Most remember them for their carefree and childish behavior. "Iona's dancing muse," some may say. You've only seen them dance once when you first came to Gilhanna. Beautiful, hypnotic. You believe they are everything the people say they are.

PRINCESS CLEMENTINE ✧ PRINCE CLEMENT, THE FORGOTTEN HEIR. The youngest of the Jung siblings. You haven't heard about them in all your seven years in Gilhanna. Nor are they mentioned among the people.

[psiionic]

i have been non stop thinking about schizophrenic latula again. of course i could always repeat the same things i always say, latuda is a mood stablizer and it doesn't make sense that a pyrope would become anxious out of nowhere because their family line never implies that pyropes ever have a "shy" phase and are entirely more likely to fall down the line of obsession and depression and spiralling over minor things. but i was talking to my friend about the alternian economic system and we came to the realization that alternia is likely a much more scripted planet than we initially assumed, since it's essentially a planet that focuses on pumping out child soldiers i believe that their economic system is almost completely falsified by the HIC and higher powers, each caste is set up with a projected job, a certain amount of money, a specific living situation and lusus to groom them into the perfect position they'll take as an adult once exiled from the planet and gaining their title. ive already spoken about how i believe that the beforan trolls are all essentially encouraged to pick a persona to "brand" themselves as in a show of personal expression that is expected of them by the government, but it got me thinking about how these two things interact with eachother. flarping is such a popular game on alternia specifically because all the kids are, essentially, larping as their projected adult counterparts until they leave planet. thats why there doesn't seem to be any ACTUAL job structure, the janitors are all kids pretending to be janitors until they leave planet, and highbloods commission people with their government allotted money, which funds the economy as well. there are mentions that if you don't "play your role right" you'll be culled and its because they figured out a system to learn who is willing to play the right role and who isnt BEFORE they have the power to actually harm the empire, which is NOT ON THE PLANET. drones kill anyone who steps out of line and its called culling because theyre still little kids. its like taking out the "bad actors" in a play, they arent needed, itll stall the progress of the machine. all of the characters essentially have a pre-determined role and persona they can fall into, and if they refuse to play along or start to look at the fact that theyre in a roleplaying game for too long they'll be culled.

anyways. this leads me to believe that because beforus is a planet without the exiling system, that means it's likely a system where no one ever stops playing "pretend." due to there being no expansion, the only thing that matters is appearance. It doesn't exactly matter how good you are at something, culling doesn't need to mean killing, it just means you lose your right on how to present yourself. You were clearly unable to play your part because you were too dumb or too pitiable and need someone else to ensure youre able to be presentable as the persona they choose for you.

this leads me back to latula. i believe that as a knight of mind, latula likely was able to see right through the pretend games that they were all playing extremely fast, but due to a knights innate questioning of themselves and their own thoughts, she was likely easily convinced that the problem was not the system but HER actually, for scrutinizing the system. calling people fake or invalid or implying they aren't what they actually are i'd imagine is a very strong offense in a society exclusively centered around always wearing masks. i also feel like this is exactly why all of the dancestors show that they are deeply disconnected from who they truly are, with mituna being the only one who couldn't keep up appearance and therefor had to have his autonomy stripped not just by beforus but by the narrative itself, disconnecting him from who he used to be by force. latula likely takes medication not for social anxiety but because she quite literally ruminates too much, i can see her being anxious in a paranoid and pointed way specifically at forces that be, especially considering how mind players act, but i cannot for the life of me ever see latula being the shy socially anxious fluttershy type i constantly see (or at least SAW) her be portrayed as. while this doesn't specifically point to schizophrenia, due to what latuda actually treats, it's my favorite headcanon to apply to her.

[lovezbrownies]

Yandere!Chief of Police.

Character: Grim Ludenhart, 32, male, 199 cm/ 6'5 ft.

Pretty mild tbh, not too yandere but there is a future work containing your life with him after where it will be darker hopefully. also my ass did not read through this so whatever mistakes i made please ignore them thanks!

Minors DNI!!

Word count: 1725 words.

Content warning: Lying??, obsession, stalking, abuse of power, age gap (5 years- darling: 27, Grim: 32), implications of criminal activity.

Grim isn’t one for love, even the thought of it was unappealing for a while. Up until he met you. Grim was known to be a stoic man, however stoic he can be he was still extremely approachable. Ironically, Grim doesn’t care for anyone aside from his family. Grim would be less popular if these nobles knew what he actually thought of them, due to his job as Chief of Police, he and the rest of the Board of Chiefs of Xelera are required to attend every event and ball that Queen Nia hosts. Although Grim hates Queen Nia’s events he also likes to attend other events that nobles would host and invite him. He only ever goes there to make sure unnecessarily rich bastards keep up their support of the Police, as well as to maintain a good reputation among the nobles, he needs their support for whenever someone dares threaten his position.

All in all, Grim despises the nobles he’s constantly surrounded by, including the nobles he’d publicly called his friends. Which would be why he found himself here, in a tiny bar, sitting in a tiny booth, his real friends around him, all being middle class “peasants”. He liked it here, he can be the small town boy again with these people. ‘’So he cornered me, and mind you he’s doing all of this over a cake! He goes ‘Well, Grim, good to see you! Uh, you got that cake recipe written down yet?’ Blah blah, this man wouldn’t stop yappin’ i had half a mind to smack him right then and there and tell him my ma made it for me!” A roar of laughter goes off, as the laughing dies down Grim flags down a busser working at the bar. He couldn’t see them all that clearly but who cares, he’s just going to pay and leave after all.

Well, he did care, and so did his buddies as they witnessed Grim become awestruck as he talks with the server, an attractive young thing, possibly mid twenties. “Hello! My name is Y/n, is there anything I can help you with?” They greeted the table with a warm smile, a notepad in hand, waiting to be given orders to fulfill. Grim, awestruck, sat quite for a second before collecting himself when one of the guys he’s sitting next to nudged him. ‘’Ahem, yes, can I pay my bill please? Bill’s name under Greg Hart.” Grim cringed, wishing he hadn’t made up a fake name in this bar, if only he knew there was love around the corner. ‘Ah, giving your fake name to the gorgeous busser, how absolutely romantic!’ Grim chastised himself silently.

You nodded, smile as warm as the summer sun, ‘’Alrighty, I’ll get you your bill, does anyone need anything else however?” Your pretty eyes sadly cut contact with Grim to look at the rest of the table, while Grim had been completely fixated on you, even as you left he couldn’t get his eyes off you, the way your hips move, the way you swiftly move about the tables littered around the bar, the way you lean into the bar counter, the way your head tilts as you presumably ask for a Greg Hart’s check. Grim’s train of thought was caught off as the guy next to him threw their arm around Grim. “Well, looks like Grim isn’t interested in us anymore!” The group laughs heartily and Grim chuckles in embarrassment. 

Grim’s been a regular at that particular downtown bar since he’s started Cadet School, which would be now be 14 years ago, as soon as he turned 18 he had applied and gotten accepted. And out of those 14 years, the bar only just started getting better when you started working there. Grim had studied your schedule as well as he could, what shifts you had, whether you were closing or opening on a particular day. He knows everything about you, seriously, when he went to work the next day he managed to find your information after skimming through numerous pictures of other Y/Ns who were not you. Grim isn’t a slacker, so he sent over all of your records to his personal laptop to look at when he gets back home. And oh boy did he look! Grim didn’t leave a single record unread, spending hours going through your school records, your medical records, every job you’ve had, he learnt your family’s history entirely, safe to say he unfortunately missed out on seeing you that day at the bar.

Grim doesn’t like going to the bar during the weekdays because his job has always been top priority, yet here he was, chatting you up on a tuesday, the bar mostly empty as you two talk about everything and anything that comes to mind. At some points you’d get interrupted by another patron requesting help, and when that happens Grim liked to glare at them as hard as he could, eventually most regulars learnt to ask for whatever drink they want at the bar itself. Your boss also tried to lecture you on how you’ve barely been doing your job but one look from Grim had them scurrying away. 

He hates the fact you call him ‘’Greg’’, he has been chatting with you for 4 weeks now, although it really is his fault he couldn’t come up with a way to tell you that he gave you a fake name and he is actually a fearsome chief. Don’t get me wrong he has a spectacular reputation, he makes sure to have the people’s best interest at heart, but he doesn’t exactly look friendly, a tired set of lifeless eyes paired with lips that never smile has made people fear meeting him. But that’s okay! You know him now after all, you’ve seen him smile, his eyes still look tired but at least they have light in them now! Maybe you’d be open to him if he told you the truth, maybe you’d love him more if you knew about how much power he has! So, as charmingly as he could, asked if you’d like to come home with him after your shift, you know as friends obviously!

And you, charmed and ever so slowly falling for your favorite regular you agreed to his proposal, what you didn’t expect was finding out your regular was actually a chief, and the Chief of Police no less! You did freak out a little but Gre- Grim had calmed you down, told you he liked you and liked how you acted around him, “You are so cute, why would I keep coming to the bar and talk with you only if I found you disrespectful, hm?” Grim smirked at you, moving from the stove to you, standing to your left he leaned a closer to you, you were seated on his kitchen counter while he was cooking up something, you still weren’t sure what he was making but it was probably good.

You shrug, equally leaning closer to him, “Hm, dunno maybe you wanna eat me or something?” Grim chuckled lightly, a handsome grin on his face as he stared into your eyes, and by heavens was he gorgeous. His gray eyes twinkled under the ambient lights in his kitchen, his eyebags suit him so well it was almost unfair how much they made him even more attractive. “If I wanted to eat you, I would’ve already done so, dear.~” Grim’s voice was soft and smooth, masculine and deep, and oh so alluring. His head tilted slightly to the side, causing his hair to flop as well. You’ve always had this urge to touch his hair, to run your hands through it and put it in various different hairstyles, and so taking your chances you raised your hands up off of the kitchen counter and ran your fingers through his hair. Grim leaned into you, humming he closed his eyes, he seemed so serene like this, and his hair is so soft.

You sat there for a minute or so, just appreciating the man in front of you, still caressing his hair, his eyes closed, it seemed like he was so close to purring like a kitty, “I don’t think I’d mind it if you ate me, at least I’m being eaten by someone I like.” You hummed out quietly, yet this nice moment was cut short by him snapping his eyes open, grabbing the hand caressing his hair he brought it down, a little close to his face, which right now seemed a little pinkier than usual. “Y-you like me?” Your surprise was cut short, you laughed leaning into his shoulder.

 “Of course I do! Haven’t you noticed yet? Thought you were smart sir, Chief of Police!”  Still leaning into his shoulder you turned your head to have a better look at Grim, and quite frankly seeing him this flustered after watching so many interviews and speeches with Grim being completely expressionless was pure gold. Grim was staring at you, eyes wide but not meeting your own, eyebrows straight up, cheeks pink, and mouth slightly agape. You try to take your hand back so you can caress his hair again, but his grip tightens, seemingly getting out of his trance, Grim collects himself, he looks straight into your eyes, his eyes tender with love, he smiles gingerly, though his cheeks are still pink, it seems he’s gained enough courage to speak now.

Grim shrugged your head off his shoulder, cupping your face with his free hand Grim leaned into you, your foreheads now touching. Grim stares at you, looking deep into your eyes with such love it’s making you feel all types of flustered. “I hope you know I’ve never believed in love at first sight until I saw you, I- Can I kiss you?” Grim’s soft and honeyed words have you completely wrapped around his pinkie, he has now completely captivated your heart. You smile, nodding, mentally begging him to make the move, make you his. Little did you know that the moment he captured your lips onto his own you will forever be his, never being let go, and let’s just hope you don’t find out the things he has done and will do to make sure you stay his.

also bonus image :3

[a-certain-romance]

Don’t be surprised when you get bent over

Characters/Ships: Ei, Miko, & Jean x fem!reader

Synopsis: You can’t avoid them forever <3

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, fingering (Miko), some somno (Ei), oral R receiving (Ei), overstimulation (Ei), teasing (Jean), face-sitting (Jean)

Ei wouldn’t call it an obsession. You’ve been slowly introducing her to Kamera mechanisms and she’s been hooked ever since. Her curiosity since her time spent with the traveler has been eye-opening, and as a surprise gift to Ei you went out and bought her one. She never really had much free time as it is, and now her hobby draws her to every small crevice of Inazuma. She finds herself accompanying her soldiers to various military camps or meetings with small villages, and not only do the experiences enhance her skills but it also becomes a way for Ei to re-familiarizes herself with Inazuma’s culture and landscape.

You support her, obviously, until it starts to keep her out of the bed. Despite her day time exploration the one thing you can always count on (unless she was on a long trip) was that she would meet you in bed and hold you until the both of you fell asleep. But now Ei is out in the middle of the night focusing on the stars, while you shiver in a bed that lacks Ei’s warmth.

Hatching a plan to get her attention was fairly simple; all it took was a lewd promise for her to come running. You spent the entire day out, not on the streets in the city but wandering around in the plains and cozying up to the wild foxes. You debated whether to not Ei would be home once the sun set, but then you remembered that tonight was supposed to be a full moon, and figured Ei would want to photograph that as well. You went to sleep early after finishing a meal prepped by the cooks and didn’t think of much else.

As you slept, you had the best dream about Ei. She tied you up to the bed posts and was eating you out as if she were starving for you. Her tongue felt so soft yet firm on your clit as she licked away at your cunt. And the best part was that it felt so real. Every swipe of her tongue left you feeling in so much bliss. But the sounds were getting echoey, and the spike of pleasure felt too good to be just a dream.

You opened your eyes to find that your arms were in fact restrained: wrists tied around in intricate little bows, just how long were you asleep? Your lower half remained free, but was extremely sore and sensitive. Ei’s arms hooked possessively around your legs, her head buried between them as the rest lay limp over her shoulders.

Your movement brings her back from her haze. Her lustful eyes, her cocky grin; fuck you can feel yourself dripping at just the sight of her.

“At last, you’re awake. You make the cutest expressions when you asleep, did you know that?” Those last few words were mumbled in your pussy, sending shockwaves of pleasure. Ei chuckles against you, “Though I suppose that is from my doing”

Her tongue moved around you, paying extra special attention to your sensitive clit. You whine and dig your heels into her back as you start to grind against her face. Your thrusts, almost automatically, start to speed up and soon Ei is licking up your mess.

Just as you’re catching your breath, Ei replaces her tongue with her fingers against your pussy lips. “I intend to keep you up til dawn,” Ei eyes bore into your own as she looks up at you from above your navel,

“A shogun doesn’t back down on her word”

Like Ei, Jean’s ignorance comes from a new hobby as well. You’ve noticed that Jean’s mental fatigue has been increasing for a while now. She’s been dealing with the stress in more physical ways: meditation, training, massages from you that sometimes lead to more. Yet she can’t shake off the feeling that wears her down at the days end.

You’re a library aide, training to become a librarian alongside Lisa. During one of your afternoon tea breaks she brings up the idea of reading. You dismiss it at first, Jean has always sighed that there was just not enough hours in the day for something like that, but after some consideration you took Lisa’s advice to heart. During one of her (forced) breaks you gifted Jean one of your favorites.

Suffice to say she was in and out of the Library nearly every other day. Jean feverishly flies through books every time she finishes another draining report. And every time she reaches the back cover you are always there to greet her when she comes in for a new one.

She’s been extremely invested in all these little worlds, but has slowly been less and less invested in your relationship. You’re extremely happy that Jean’s taking the time to nourish this new side of her, but sometimes she forgets to make the time for you too.

Jean can be rather clueless sometimes. It’s not as if you’ve tried to stop her, but she’s oblivious to the hints you drop. It’s been weeks since you’ve last been on a date, and the most interaction you get from her is when you see her at the library. Even when you’re back home, it’s like she’s a ghost, only ever feeling her presence when she’s nearby. And that’s if she has the energy to not collapse immediately she she hits the sheets.

The next time Jean comes in through those library doors you make sure to slip a note in the next book you give her.

Now you’re the one who’s occupied throughout the day. Even Lisa starts to question your spark of work ethic and Jean’s prolonged visits, but it’s the only time she can hope to catch you off guard since she’s so tired after a long days work. And there’s so many close calls, you would’ve let Jean take you against the tables had it not been for Lisa’s watchful eye.

Jean can’t take it anymore. She nearly lost it during this trip. Jean forced herself to sneak in before closing because one of her many library books, one that she nearly forgot about, was about to be due the next day, and she didn’t want to suffer Lisa’s wrath. But there was no Lisa in sight, just the two of you alone in the big, empty library.

Apologies spilled out of her mouth filled with promises to manage her time and attention better and begged, begged, for your forgiveness. You accept and become trapped as she bend you against one of the library tables.

Even though you were aching for her touch this was still your workplace, and the shame of cleaning up cum from the tables would embarrass you to no end, especially if Lisa happened to see. You walk home together and she spends that time teasing and discreetly touching you.

When you get home she pulls you flush against her chest and kisses your cheek sensually. Her hand hold the back of your neck gently as she twirls around a few baby hairs. Her mouth goes to your lips and you feel her tongue run along the bottom of your lip. The second you allow entrance she picks you up and carries you bridal style to set you down on the bed.

As she lays her weigh on top of you her knee presses right up against your heat. She pulls back to take a breath, and goes back in right after. It’s a slow make-out session, one that you weren’t expecting after how Jean’s been acting’s. You guide her hand to your panties but she stops short.

“In a rush, are we? Aren’t you forgetting we have all night?”

“We nearly did it at the library, I’m sure you’re as pent up as I am”

“Maybe so,” she says as she un-do’s the buttons of your shirt, “but it’s only fair after that stunt you pulled. I finally have you alone now, I want to make the most of it.”

She leans in to whisper in your ear, “If you cum before I say you can, there’ll be serious repercussions .”

She maneuvers you both so that you rest your pussy on her face. She lets you control the pace, control the rhythm and control how deep you want to go. But that statement was her only warning. And when your mind gets fuzzy from all the stimulation you forget about the rule, that one rule.

When you get back down to the mattress Jean is tsking.

“Looks like we really do have a long night ahead of us”

Yae Miko is such a tease

One second her hands are all over you as she whispers dirty things into your ear and the next, she’s laughing at your expression and walking away. She loves how you give into her so quickly. It made her wonder how you would fair if she were to cut off her affections all at once.

She’d cling to your arm in public and and act as if you were a stranger behind closed doors. Why? Her own curiosity of course. The psychology of humans will never not be of great entertainment for her. And, it’s been so long since she’s seen you so desperate.

You’ve had enough of her testing your resolve, so you decided to do the same. As Miko slept, you wrote a neat little message in an envelope and, in the morning, instructed a shrine maiden to deliver it to Miko. And once the plan was set in stone, you remain sure that bringing out Miko’s competitive side will make her end this whole…experiment.

You avoided that room like the plague. Despite her attempts to catch you off guard you know her well enough to predict her next move. Indoors it was like a game of chess, and outside a game of cat and mouse. This competition lasted for days. Both too stubborn to give in and both too filled with more tension than they can handle.

You came back home during the evening when you knew Miko was busy with shrine duties. You heard from an acquaintance that Miko was held up in her office with paperwork and would probably not finish until later.

Deciding to relax, you recline onto the bed for a break. You breathe in the sweet scent of Sakura blossoms from Miko’s pillow and realize how lonely the past few days have been. Sure, the competition and the tricks were sometimes fun but what you really missed was seeing the want in her eyes.

You pull off your shirt and unhook your bra, gasping at how the cool air brushes your nipples. You grope your breasts while thinking of the perfect, pink-haired Yokai who’s captured your heart. You imagine what it would feel like if she were here right now. Her touch is magnetic, you dream of it as you circle your finger around your nipple. The image of what Miko would do to you fills your mind and sends heat straight to your core. The hand that isn’t occupied with your boob grazes between your legs and you whine out “Miko”.

The door bursts open. “And so the mouse has been caught. You’ve surprised me, I did not think you would last for this long.“ She removes your hand and replaces it with you fingers.

“But I knew you had to come home eventually, and it seems the story I planted worked”. Her fingers begin to pump into you at a steady rhythm. “Turn around for me”

When you flip onto your stomach she slightly hovers over you, running her hands along your backside, admiring your beauty. “It’s been so long hasn’t it? Truth be told, I believe the wait makes it worth the while”. Her fingers return to your cunt and resume their thrusts, only much faster this time.

He fingers hit harder and deeper into you, sliding across all the right places. But before letting you finish she slows down her movements to an almost lazy pace. She simply laughs at your confusion, “You have all night to cum, why rush it?”

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

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Chapter 1

Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Agriche makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Agriche.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the terrace.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t argue with him, because it would only be one-sided. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decides to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Agriche was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argiche family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

[author-main]

Welcome back to Author Takes the Romance out of Wrightworth just to Put It Back Later. The reason why I do this is because, I'm a relatively newer fan, haven't been here for super long. And I wanna share my thoughts and opinions as a fan who got into the games because of nrmt/mtnr. I (personally) think a lot of the meaning in the characters' dialog gets kinda lost in fanon. So today, I will discuss how:

Phoenix becoming a lawyer for Miles isn't THAT extreme when you learn how easy it was to "change his life" to do it.

By that, I mean... it wasn't THAT big of a change.

Point One: Phoenix did not change his entire college course for Miles, nor did he need to.

I should start with: becoming a lawyer is no joke, no matter where you live. But since I'm American, we'll follow the localization.

In the U.S. you're required to obtain your Juris Doctor (J.D.) to take the bar exam. What you need to start working towards a J.D. is any bachelor's degree. Phoenix was 21 and still an art major (April 2014), even after knowing for up to over a year (February 2013) that Miles was a prosecutor. He is said to have taken law classes, that could mean three things

Law electives

Law minor

double major

Note: The double major is the least likely in canon, because if that was the case, his character profile in 3-1 would've mentioned it.

Given the timeline of events, I believe that Phoenix was already a graduating senior at by the time of 3-1. Not a super important thought, just a "he's pretty much ready to get into a grad program anyway" thing.

Point Two: Larry Butz is his other reason in becoming a lawyer.

And not so many people ship them now do they? Most people either see Larry as just a friend to Phoenix, or they outright forget him (which is why I have to point him out NOW). Phoenix knew Larry for his entire life, longer than he knew Edgeworth. And he's the reason they all became friends in the first place. But he's even more important than just being the reason he and Miles became friends.

Phoenix wanted to show his gratitude to Miles and Larry in the exact same way, by defending them in court. This isn't romantic, this is wholly platonic. This is his way of showing how much they actually meant to him, how much their friendship meant to them. He's trying to show them what exactly they've done for him. They changed him as a person. Showed him that he should follow his convictions and intuition, to believe in people and defend them especially when the rest of the world is against them.

Point Three: "I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth": You NEED to pay attention to the entire conversation to understand why he said this. (though I obviously can't share it all here, but here are the most important parts for this post)

Probably the most seemingly obsessive part this of is: "He's in pain… And no one's on his side. I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I'm the only one who can help him." But you really need to actually consider what he's saying here. Phoenix knows that the world is cruel and that mob mentality can form no matter the demographic. He knows that whether it's a class of elementary school kids, or full-grown adults in suits and ties; if the world thinks you did it, you're discouraged from defending yourself. If the world thinks you did it, you'll start believing it too. If the world tells you to apologize and take responsibility, you're going to do it, even if what they accuse you of isn't true. And Phoenix knows what it's like to not be able to defend himself. He knows that he needs to defend the seemingly indefensible. That's why he became a defense attorney. That's what the class trial taught him, what Miles and Larry taught him.

"I'm the only one who knows the real Edgeworth." -> "I'm the only one who knows what it's like to be in Edgeworth's shoes and I know for a fact that he's innocent. I know that no matter what happened in the past, that he doesn't deserve this."

Extra: The other reason why I decided to write this is because of Xitter lurking

This was all part of a conversation but I'm only sharing my own opinions