#being groomed for something to the point you know nothing else

[vicorices]

hey… so like yk that trend where bridesmaids would bring the groom spicy polroid photos of the bridd.. can you write something a little like that but its reader nd sevik’s wedding (smut pls if u didnt know alrdy)😻🎀

₊˚⊹♡ dive in.

a/n — ugghhhhh i totally see this, sorry for taking so long non x // request open + masterlist.

18+ mdni, public sex, use of strap-on (it’s refered as cock/dick too) strap sucking, use of pet names.

to be fair, sevika did want to marry, the thing was organizing a wedding.

you've been running non-stop the last months so she gets you're burnt out. your fianceé can be many things, but her patience it's a golden treat even when she don't have time to properly fuck you lately, she knows you'll be back to your own self after the celebration, and sevika’s not afraid of having to put up with your grumpy side any time of the day.

she can handle you, simple as a summer day. what she cannot handle instead, was that backstabbing shit you were pulling on her after being so well behaved, playing the part of an understanding wife until one of your friends give her the first photo and she has to look at it twice to be sure she's looking at it right, cause there's no way you're standing in a tiny polaroid picture wearing a purple set of underwear, comfortably laying around in bed — a bed you share with her every night.

it sends her into a spiral. the music is loud in a room full of celebrating guests and still, her mouth is suddenly dry and she feels like it has been a fucking year now without having sex, so dramatic as she's searching for you even when you're already looking at her, raising your champagne glass in a silent toast with a playful smirk.

and she thinks you'll have the decency to be kind to her after all, but your friends kept the photos coming, and each one seemed to be more obscene than the last one as she looked at them a couple of times afraid someone else could see it before tucking it away in the safety of her suit. at first a casual set of purple lingerie that scaled insanely quick to a very close frontal shot of your full lips slightly parted, and sevika can recognize your hands squeezing your tits together for the picture, you fucking tease — the third picture steals the air from her lungs at the sight of you already on your knees, looking up to the camera with nothing on top.

did your friends see them too? do they know how low they are helping you play? you're making her put up a show ‘cause you're laughing at her face, her erratic movements, how she forgot to keep on talking to the guests, show some manners from a zaunite already in the council, but shit she's so weak. you've deprived her for what? a month or two? can you really expect her to behave and not to act up stupid? you're wearing this beautiful white gown and sevika cannot help but wonder, truly wonder, by the look in your face, what are you wearing down all that expensive fabric.

low.

you're looking at her while you talk to your close ones and sevika fights the need to drag you away from everyone as the photos kept appearing randomly, hitting her in the worst moments, cause she thinks she got it figured it out, that she finally collected herself as the minutes pass until another friend appears with a sinful picture and she thinks to herself, she's going to have a word or two with you about that teasing game she didn't agree to be a part on.

how can she be mad at you anyway? when you're so good at taking those photos for her? when you look so beautiful making your underwear to the side to have a look of your soaked pussy you so eagerly show to the camera lens? you're biting down your lip cause you really are enjoying it, showing that nasty side you cannot hide and she just loves to have every single time.

her devotion to you knows no barrier at that point, cause people are laughing loudly, singing and dancing under the changing lights and the bands playing in the background, yet sevika's blatantly stealing you from the rest and there's no point in saying no when she's pulling you to the tiny photobooth you thought it'd be cute to take up pictures for the guests and have a little token of your union to your wife to take home, closing down the red curtain to corner you against the camera wall.

"did you like the photos?" you have the audacity to ask with a smile on your lips — "it's a reward for being so good to me all this time."

"is this your idea of reward, doll?" sevika cannot hide the smirk on her face, not when she’s actually enjoying all the talking for once. "haunt me the whole night until i can finally get you alone?"

"it's fun" you try to defend yourself, but you already lost the whole case as her big hands fall against your figure, tracing your sides as she mocks your words: you have different views of fun clearly. "i was going to make it up to you later, vika. the two of us."

"make up to me you say," she chuckles, almost not believing you "well take care of me now then. i deserve it."

she does it really, so you let her push you around, use force to pin you down against the wall as she takes what she's been anxiously craving, cursing against the complex fabric of your wedding dress until she's able to grip it in one hand, noticing the same purple set she saw before in the pictures.

"fucking slut doin' this on purpose" sevika shakes her head in disbelief as she takes a look of your body in the colorful lingerie "and you were going to be cruel and make me fucking wait to have you? on our own wedding day?"

"vika-"

“you took the photos, fuckin´ deal with it.”

“what if someone comes in?”

“i’ll tell them to fuck off,” she promises quickly like she thought about it all already “it’s our day, our wedding.”

there’s something about the way she’s saying it that makes you oblivious to the rest, makes your head spin cause you forgot about your worrying, the guests, the cake and everything in between. so you're not aware of when you pushed the red button on the screen of the photobooth, nor when it activates it's original purpose when sevika's fully into making out with you, capturing the sight of your figures blending together in the same picture — by the second shot you can notice the smirk on her brown lips and in the third, it's not really visible as she seems to be too close to the camera lens, making the image blurry as she attacks on your neck.

maybe it's the thrill of being discovered, the fact sevika can feel the flash of the photos being taken, but she wishes to be patient again — have it in at least a couple of hours on her actual wedding night for a chance, privately, but the strap she choose willingly to wear in a way of fully teasing you, was now pushing against your leg and you have to stop for a second with your brows furrowed.

"is that-" sevika's nodding and you want to say something, but you find amusing to know your wife is wearing a strap-on to your wedding celebration, one you surely have seen already.

"make up to me," she repeats once again, serious this time "for being cruel."

no one interrupts anyway. the music's too loud, the sweat in the air is too strong and guests already drank a lot so no one gives a shit when you're getting on your knees, when sevika's toying with your hair as you're the one to unbuckle the belt from her pants, the one who kisses the happy trail of her lower belly without protesting, noticing the blue silicone as her pant pools in her ankles and your wife cannot seem to care about anything but the sight of you on your knees.

"get it wet" sevika's less gentle now as she's pointing to her fake cock, licking her lips like she can taste yours in them before adding: "so i can fuck you good, okay?"

to be fair — it's just an excuse, cause she knows you're dripping in your pretty purple panties, that the dildo would split you open yes, stretch you out even without making much effort, but she just wants to see how you do it, how you become a drooling mess, salivating all over the floor, getting your dress wet totally unaware of everything else.

and hell she wishes she could feel it all, cause you look so pretty with your mouth full it's insane, pushing against the rubber to take it in your throat further until you make yourself gag, and your wife takes care of you, so she's pulling away but in all honestly the sight of you debauched already only spurs her on 'cause the amount of saliva coating your lips connecting you to her dick makes her insane, cleaning the corners of your mouth with her thumb.

"easy there, get used to it and take it slow," her voice is rough as she helps you put your hair up in a ponytail vika holds in her mechanic fingers, watching your polished moves as you get to work again, relaxing until the tip of your nose is touching her skin, and your eyes are watering but she can feel your breathing on her, the friction between her legs every time you move to take her deeper, the fabric of the harness consistently rubbing between her legs — "there you go bunny. s'good taking it all, go on keep sucking and don't get distracted."

you want to do good, desperate to please her over and over again, you can take it. that's what she says as her hips involuntarily thrust against your mouth, and it's so slippery the rubber cock slides inside your bucal cavity and she's roughly hitting on the back of your throat until there's this sound you make involuntarily each time the strap invades your mouth and makes you choke, leaving you a mess as you're drooling all over your tits.

her flesh hand does a good job on making you move, fingers tightening in your hair as she sets an steady pace against your mouth, swollen lips that close around the shaft as she pushes it deeper, cleaning up your tears cause she don't want your make up to be ruined, all pretty trying hard for her.

she's going to cum like this, inevitable. you're looking up to her with your big eyes, a damn smirk cause even when you're struggling you're having so much fun you cannot help it, and once again she's needy for more than what she'd like to admit.

the movement of her hips rubs her right in the spot when sevika's already so sensitive soaking her inner thighs, forcing her cock in your mouth — it's so good, you're so damn good.

so she cums around nothing, your sloppy movements as you suck on her strap, that zoned out look you have that only makes her moan hastily, leaning against the photobooth to press that fucking button again that's been randomly taking pictures now capturing the features of your wife as you now disappear from the frame, the pleasure on sevika's face she's unaware before pulling you upwards again, making you stand as she parts your legs with her knee forcing you to turn around to have a good view of your ass.

"my good little cocksleeve, always ready to be stuffed," she praises, leaving wet kisses on the expanse of your shoulders, going down your spine as she don't bother to take your panties off, no, she wants to fully fuck you in them "spread yourself open, help me sink in you."

your hands come up to grip on your asscheeks, pulling them aside to help your wife reach deeper, use you better by all means. the tip of the cold silicone wet with your own saliva kisses your entrance, and you melt away when sevika's finally fucking you until the base of her cock disappears inside your warm cunt, holding you still even in a secluded space.

she's shoving her fingers in your mouth, making you suck on her digits with a hungry look: lame, she's gonna cum again and she's acting up so fucking lame.

"fucking take it," the damn camera flashes again and sevika has lost count of how many pictures are waiting outside the booth of you two, but she's too busy to say something when she's sinking inside your drenched pussy, pulling on your hair as she grips on the curve of your hip, making you move with her as her movements get rougher, each time more demanding, deeper — "that's it. make space for me, it's not that hard, isn't it?"

she's on a sinking ship either way: slow is now overrated and she would rather dive in headfirst to openly drown in you.

was that so bad? i mean, you're married to her now.

[eddtherippr]

teen lottie NSFW alphabet?

i always assume these requests mean pre-crash yall have to specify if you want wilderness or post rescue ... but yes anon

LOTTIE MATTHEWS — NSFW ALPHABET yall already know the rules... template from here! warnings: general kinda crude language, mentions of mania and kleptomania? nothing too insane though

mdni, 18+

A = AFTERCARE (WHAT THEY’RE LIKE AFTER SEX)

deeply emotional. threads her fingers through your hair, tucks close to you. soft murmurs that are usually nonsense pillow-talk, cheek to chest, heart syncing with yours.

loves showering with you after, because she’s got sensory issues and doesn’t like when the good sticky turns to bad sticky… gross!

B = BODY PART (THEIR FAVORITE BODY PART OF THEIRS AND ALSO THEIR PARTNER’S)

on herself, her eyes– loves it if she can just throw you a look and turn you on, loves making eye contact

on you, your thighs– especially wrapped around her waist. but honestly just flash her any skin and she’s trying to drag you to the nearest closet

C = CUM (ANYTHING TO DO WITH CUM, BASICALLY)

total little freak… she’ll smear it across your belly, kiss it off your lips, lick it off her fingers… sometimes she’ll just make it a point to be as messy as possible so you have to help clean her up.

D = DIRTY SECRET (PRETTY SELF EXPLANATORY, A DIRTY SECRET OF THEIRS)

gets off to the idea of being watched, just a little. mirrors, windows, the edge of public places.

sometimes she fingers herself in her walk-in closet imagining someone stumbling in. cums fast as hell. freak. 

E = EXPERIENCE (HOW EXPERIENCED ARE THEY? DO THEY KNOW WHAT THEY’RE DOING?)

more practiced than you’d expect. not in the “tons of partners” way, but she's kinda intuitive. it only takes her a few minutes to get patterns down (and subsequently weaponize them).

F = FAVORITE POSITION (THIS GOES WITHOUT SAYING)

lotus— something about mutual closeness, locked thighs, eye contact, etc etc... likes it when you're tangled up in her lap, likes even more that you have nowhere to go.

G = GOOFY (ARE THEY MORE SERIOUS IN THE MOMENT? ARE THEY HUMOROUS? ETC.)

if she’s like INTO it into it, not very silly. more focused on the task at hand. catch her a few drinks in though? giggling the whoooleee time because she’s having so much fun.

WILL say some absolutely fucknasty shit and then laugh hysterically right after because holy shit I can’t believe I said that. she did in fact say that though and probably meant it

H = HAIR (HOW WELL GROOMED ARE THEY? DOES THE CARPET MATCH THE DRAPES? ETC.)

bare or a neatly trimmed landing strip. keeps it soft because she gets irritated as fuck being itchy (me too, girl).

I = INTIMACY (HOW ARE THEY DURING THE MOMENT? THE ROMANTIC ASPECT)

super intensely intimate. eye contact so deep you feel like she’s trying to soul-suck you. touches like she wants to merge bodies. she wants you to see her and understand her and vice versa.

J = JACK OFF (MASTURBATION HEADCANON)

does it rarely. slowly and trying to enjoy it on good nights, quick and just trying to cum on bad ones

very visual, often picturing the same person over and over again, sometimes imagining she’s not alone in the room or that it’s someone else’s hand instead of her own. it helps to distract from less pleasant thoughts

K = KINK (ONE OR MORE OF THEIR KINKS)

control and power play — loves taking the reins, coaxing surrender. it helps her to feel in control of something. vice versa, she sometimes wants to be the one giving up control so that she doesn’t have to think so hard about everything. sort of like cleaning the slate. factory reset if you will

sensory play — blindfolds, silk restraints, dripping wax… sign her right the fuck up

praise — sad lonely girl who likes when you talk sweet to her. fork found in kitchen. unsurprising. but also specifically saying you’re proud is what does the charm because you know this mf needs validation like plants need water… she will implode

L = LOCATION (FAVORITE PLACES TO DO THE DO)

anywhere that feels aesthetic. she’s got a Thing for aesthetics. forest clearing, the floor of her father’s study with incense burning, bed lit by moonlight slashing through stained glass. wants to make it cinematic (like that one sex scene in mulholland drive, rip Lottie you would’ve loved naked in manhattan)

M = MOTIVATION (WHAT TURNS THEM ON, GETS THEM GOING)

vulnerability. seeing you open up, confess a secret, (and, embarrassingly enough, cry in front of her). it’s her blossoming cult leader instincts kicking in sorry. 

also, unspoken glances across crowded rooms… she will literally drag you to a closet by the back of your shirt like a kitten

N = NO (SOMETHING THEY WOULDN’T DO, TURN OFFS)

anything detached or performative. hate sex? casual hookups with no emotion? not her thing. 

definitely craves connection and using sex to get in someone’s head– not maliciously, just to understand them deeper than she already does

O = ORAL (PREFERENCE IN GIVING OR RECEIVING, SKILL, ETC.)

giving, reverent with it. adores eating someone out slowly, eyes on your face the whole time, dragging her tongue and tasting everything. 

receiving? rides the actual fuck out of your face, like literally almost suffocates you a little. doesn’t pull your hair but does push your head down until you have to tap out to catch your breath. good luck soldier.

P = PACE (ARE THEY FAST AND ROUGH? SLOW AND SENSUAL? ETC.)

usually slow and sensual. wants to enjoy it and make it last. but when she’s manic or spiraling, she fucks like she’s exorcising literal demons. maybe she is. who knows.

Q = QUICKIE (THEIR OPINIONS ON QUICKIES, HOW OFTEN, ETC.)

will do them, but only if the tension was already there first or it’s a “public” place—bathroom stalls at school, back of a parked car before a party. she finds it more exciting when there’s the chance of getting caught.

R = RISK (ARE THEY GAME TO EXPERIMENT? DO THEY TAKE RISKS? ETC.)

risky. gets off on risk. being forced into a perfect little bubble your entire life has its side effects. nerves heighten everything else and she likes it that way

S = STAMINA (HOW MANY ROUNDS CAN THEY GO FOR? HOW LONG DO THEY LAST?)

two or three rounds MINIMUM, especially if she’s feeling manic. will go until you're limp and breathless then ask if you can go one more… good luck babe

T = TOYS (DO THEY OWN TOYS? DO THEY USE THEM? ON A PARTNER OR THEMSELVES?)

yes, but like, classy about it? keeps a little box under her bed– vibrators, a harness, glass dildos…

uses them more on partners than herself, and also just likes collecting them because she’s a kleptomaniac

U = UNFAIR (HOW MUCH THEY LIKE TO TEASE)

when she feels like it. will absolutely edge you until you’re begging, kiss just below where you need her, keep eye contact while she denies you over and over and over…

and does it all while smiling, telling you how good you’re doing. fuck dude

V = VOLUME (HOW LOUD THEY ARE, WHAT SOUNDS THEY MAKE, ETC.)

whispers, whimpers, ecstatic chanting of different phrases if she’s deep into it. moans are drawn-out and trembling. will stutter out that she loves you while taking three whole fingers, she may be a freak but she isn’t a neglectful one

also the louder you get, the more it turns her on… she loves hearing you lose your composure

W = WILD CARD (A RANDOM HEADCANON FOR THE CHARACTER)

has a small collection of polaroids of herself. you know exactly what type of polaroid. 

X = X-RAY (LET’S SEE WHAT’S GOING ON UNDER THOSE CLOTHES)

slender, subtle curves, surprisingly toned legs, BICEPS.

also sometimes doesn’t wear panties because she likes the freedom

Y = YEARNING (HOW HIGH IS THEIR SEX DRIVE?)

pretends it’s manageable but aches constantly. daydreams in class, zones out while brushing her hair. quiet about it but that doesn’t mean it isn’t noticeable

Z = ZZZ (HOW QUICKLY THEY FALL ASLEEP AFTERWARDS)

falls asleep quickly after because her mind is finally quiet for once 

insists on being big spoon because she likes holding onto you. and she has to have at least one hand under your clothes for that skin to skin, obviously 

if you get up in the middle of the night, she pulls you back. you don’t get out of bed until she does, rip you if you have to go to the bathroom

[r0-boat]

Please please I need him!!

ZZZ Lighter NSFW ALPHABET

Listen I know I'm writing for him before he comes out shut up!! Let me be Delulu and kiss him

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He likes to hold you close and feel up your body, lay his lips on your skin and tell you how good you were. He likes to talk about everything you did to make him cum.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Your hips, something nice to grab onto soft or muscular he doesn't care He likes the feeling of his finger into your soft skin.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes to shoot his cum all over you and inside you but what really gets him off something he's kind of embarrassed about is seeing your face covered in his cum. It does things to him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

One time the two of you play wrestled when you were being a brat and annoying him and he feeling his big hands grasped around your wrists and you're squirming body brushing against his Light got so hard.

It took him hours to calm down. And now all he can think about is manhandling you and pinning you to the ground like a real villain taking you by force with pure strength. It's not something he would ever do to you obviously.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Lighter has had partners before. So he knows what he's doing but he'd rather know what you like come on you can tell him he promises he'll be gentle.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes when you sit in his lap His fingers digging into your ass or hips bouncing you up and down, where He can see your whole body and kiss you if he wants to.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He does goof off when he sees how stressed you are. He wants you to enjoy this as much as he is. To make you relax he'll make you laugh maybe crack a joke or two.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He shaves every now and then so he doesn't have to worry about his hair down there for a while when he's on the road or doing something else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He doesn't do it often but when he does Your heart will be so full to the point of bursting.

His favorites include late night rides under the stars before taking you. Massaging your shoulders before His hands start dipping lower and lower. Drawing you a warm bath and then slipping inside with you when you're not looking.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lighter masturbates a lot, a lot more than he should. He can't help how he feels about you. Be prepared for a dick pic.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I can see him like marking. Bite marks and hickeys and he'll make sure people see them. I can also see him liking restraints, Cuffs, rope or his own hands He wants to make sure you're nice and submissive.

He's a bit of a brat tamer as well.

He wants to degrade you but also praise you at the same time.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Doing it somewhere in public like an alleyway getting a rush at the idea of someone walking in on him taking you raw. But don't worry you're pretty little head He knows the outer ring like the back of his hand no one's gonna see you, The only person who gets to hear and see you like this is him.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything with risk involved. Something that really gets his adrenaline pumping. Whether it be fucking in public, breeding you, rough housing, or you sending a risky text. Catch him off guard and he'll be at your door in seconds.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will not, under any circumstances. Share you with anyone. He doesn't like sharing.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He prefers receiving, He would love nothing more than your pretty little mouth taking more than you can handle his cum running down your overfilled mouth.

But He does not mind at all watching you ride squirm and scream his name on his tongue.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He apologizes if he slams his hips to roughly and to you sometimes he doesn't know his own strength. When he gets so caught up and how much and tight you squeeze him, he might go a little harder than he wants to. Sometimes he'll get carried away and start moving his hips faster.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Yes. He'll mess up your guts then send you off to your friends.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Oh he experiments anything to keep you on your toes. And when it comes to risky sex... He lives for it! What an adrenaline junkie...

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a fighter, He's fit and he tends to have more stamina which is good for him since he likes to force orgasms out of you like it's nothing not so good for you...

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He's okay on toys. He understands that toys can be used to tease you more or heighten your pleasure but he rather be the only one inside you. Maybe he could use it to fill your other holes.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can't help that such degrading words slip from his tongue. He doesn't try to use them often. And he'll tease you till you beg. He wants to hear those sweet words and those cute little eyes fill with tears and you're quivering little lips.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pretty quiet The most you'll get out of him is grunts stifled moans or growls.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Lighter can be pretty possessive as a partner. Mostly protective. And it kind of shows during sex.

Almost exclusively calls you pet names. But every now and then on rare occasions when you got him so worked up he will say your name.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Big cock with heavy full balls, it's thick veiny and uncut.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He may not look it, He is always down to fuck you. He always wants to have you if he wants to he could use you everyday.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Can easily last a couple rounds and even then the first thing he does is shower after he waits for you to fall asleep.

[galactic-rhea]

you know, maybe I'm wrong, but my interpretation of Anakin/Vader and Redeemed Anakin is that he pretty much is aware he's terrible. He pretty much thinks of himself as a monster even before becoming Vader, he considers himself one as soon as he had to leave Shmi to survive as a slave alone while he got to become The Chosen One and travel the stars (his basic understanding of love is self-sacrifice), he knows the tusken massacre was bad, he knows murdering disarmed Dooku was bad; he knew turning against the jedi and helping Palpatine was bad; he's extremelly self aware of his violence and hates himself for it.

I think it's easy to think of him as nonchalant or as sort of a shameless dick about it all because his General At War Persona was to be jokey and pretend he's having fun. He's very confident on his ability for Murder (tm), he (tragically) became one of the Best general jedis in the order by becoming good at murder, he's useful when he's being murderous at the right people; so he has no doubts on his abilities on this regard; that doesn't mean he isn't aware of how fucked up and cruel it is, but he keeps doing it, and it's all he knows; he was born in violence, raised in violence, taught to yield a extremelly dangerous weapon, groomed into violence, rewarded for violence, cheered for violence, with Ahsoka then he had to teach violence, and then violence just became something that ran in his blood, it came to him easily, too easily because he was never given the means to deal with such a extreme hyperviolent paradigm. So yep, he knows he's good at murder and little self-preservation.

And he probably despised himself for it, he saw himself as less than a being with human rights, he saw himself as a weapon and he hated not being seen as a person, and at some point he became apathic about it, the fight left him as soon as he had no future with a family. As Vader his hate and anger is just cold fury, is mostly apathy and a void of emotions, there's just pain and self-disgust and regret and old anger, there's not even trying to be something else anymore, it's all he's ever been good at and all he's being asked to do.

So redeemed Anakin (which canonically just means Ghost Anakin lmao) acting oblivious or playing the dumb or victim card it's just something I can't even imagine him to do; like Anakin is aware of being violent and messed up and Bad, but he is completely unable to concieve the idea of having been a victim because besides violence, Anakin's other big trait is that he never ever processes trauma and he horrifically has a history of blaming himself instead of the people who owned him.

This guy, when he was at his best as a Jedi, was pathologically prone to suicidal missions even when it wasn't a necessity, he thinks he's an asset, a means for his superiors to impose their stance and chose to own it, instead of blaming his superiors he just hates himself because he can't stop pathetically reliving when he left his mom behind, when he carried her corpse, when he retaliated against even innocents including kids, when he hurt Padmé, all the times he failed, and the he lived in his personal, fitly created just for him, inferno and had no plans to escape it until one certain sunshine farmer showed up, and all because he thinks he deserves the torture and the abuse and being owned because he's just good at murder and nothing else.

So yeah, no one probably hates him more than himself. Someone could tell Ghost Anakin he's a monster, the worst thing that ever happened in the galaxy and he would say "Yes." And no attempts at arguing or whatsoever, his dignity couldn't be lower if he tried, he would half-heartly agree if someone like Luke said the emperor did him wrong by, y'know, torture him? But then he would also say something like "Well, yes, but cruelty is the way of the Sith, what else could be expected", he's just terribly messed up and couldn't stop himself from defending, at least a little, his literal groomer and abuser and master, and he certainly won't expect forgiveness, like,,,,at all. He can, and will, make excuses for people directly hurting him, but he also would retaliate in terrible ways against anyone, guilty or not, if it meant doing it for someone he cared about.

So Anakin is just...used to being used, and falls easily into being used because it's what he knows best, freedom feels useless and uncertain after he lost padmé.

It's an increíble vicious circle: He worked himself hard to be useful because being useful it's what makes people like him and a means of survival, he then hates himself for being just useful and loosing his personhood, and because he hates himself and thinks he doesn't deserve any sort of...human rights, he keeps on being a mere weapon, an object, but what a good and expensive weapon at least, repeat.

So nope, this guy would be completely unable to even dare to play the victim or excuse himself, even less act as if he doesn't understand he did wrong.

[llamagoddessofficial]

You mention the moth Bad Sanses would like their wings to be brushed. Can we brush each of the of the Bad Sanses’ moth wings?

Despite being arguably the most physically intimidating and least approachable-looking of all of the bad guys, Horror is the easiest to brush. Why? Because he likes you. You're one of his select few people in his mind that belong in the category of 'family'. His instincts are very very strong, and from the moment he first laid eyes (eye?) on you, his instincts said that he liked you and trusted you - so nothing else matters. You reach toward him, and where someone else would lose a hand, you just get happy hums and grateful nuzzles. You could walk right up to him and start combing his wings, and he'd just sit down wherever he was stood, purring and nodding off to sleep.

Brushing Horror's wings won't be easy. They're old, matted, thick, a visual sign of his mental decline. But any effort you make will be appreciated more than you could possibly know.

Dust, though he absolutely likes you, takes time to warm up to having his wings brushed. He'll let you touch or pet, after he's made his interest in you clear, but mutual grooming is something loved ones would do together and as much as he secretly craves your affection it might be a while before he's ready to feel that way again. It's a big step in a relationship, and a big emotional trigger.

Give him time. He melts slowly. Let him come to you, let him play with your hair, braiding or twisting or just petting. Let him get comfortable with establishing that kind of connection again - let him spend nights holding you and realising you aren't going anywhere. He's likely to ask you while intoxicated, or very very tired.

It's the only time you'll hear him purr.

If you asked Killer if you could brush his wings, you'll find yourself witnessing an extremely rare sight - Killer unsure of what to say. He stands there, looking at you blankly, it appears for a moment there's a tiny white light in one of his sockets. Though he quickly tries to cover his tracks, agreeing and making some kind of flirtation out of it, it's obvious your gentle inquiry has deeply shaken him in a way you weren't expecting. He's more than willing.

You're gonna have black dust from his wings all over you. On your hands, on your face, on your brushes, everything. But you'll be recompensed with the rare delight that is a quiet, flustered Killer, blushing a vibrant crimson and sitting totally still. You might notice he keeps positioning himself to try and cover his chest; his Soul is wobbly, visibly pink, and distinctly heart-shaped.

If you have the guts to ask Nightmare, the vicious prince of moon and darkness himself, if you can brush his wings... he most likely will politely and gently decline. Just like Dust, his losses have made him unwilling to reopen to such care and attention. It'll take months of officially being together before he'll even consider such a thing.

... But your request alone will mean so, so much. Nightmare's wings are a sore subject to him. They are all at once a point of pride, a point of shame, a beauty and a terrible eyesore - the way they've changed over the years reflects how he has changed. His old wings were much prettier, much more delicate, sometimes he looks in the mirror and expects to see his old uncorrupted wings and the sight of the new ones sickens and confuses him. He's got a lot of mixed feelings. You expressing an innocent genuine desire to groom them is something he didn't realise he needed so badly to hear.

He'll think about it. He'll think about it a lot.

[fairysluna]

"look what you do to me" with ye olde cregan I BEG

worthy of you.

Cregan thinks his little brother is not worthy of a woman like you, which is why he takes the opportunity to show you that he is the one for you.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader / (Side) Masc!OC x Fem!Reader.

TAGS — smut (f!oral sex, p in v, praise kink, loss of virginity), mentions of cheating, mentions of alcohol consumption, cursing, OC is a terrible man, older!cregan, widower!cregan, age gap (early 20s and early 30s). If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — first of all, a big thank you to my gorgeous @bucknastysbabe for being my beta reader and helping me edit this, ily!! i got a bit inspired by this plot and it's longer than i expected💀

Thank you Bel for sending this request because i loved writing this!! I hope you enjoy it!!🤍

WORD COUNT — 4.3k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

How cruel were the gods when they put you in his brother's arms instead of the ones you craved the most.

The first time that Lord Stark laid his eyes upon you, he felt the air leaving his lungs, and his voice being caged inside his throat. His eyes immediately widened at the beautiful sight of you, bewitched by the way you so politely greeted him, and mesmerized by the way you uttered his name. Cregan was in awe, trying to ignore the feeling in his gut and the quickened pace of his heart as he smelled the sweet scent of vanilla coming from your hair. He wondered if you were some kind of nymph, effortlessly enchanting him with a single glance. 

After the loss of his wife, few were the women who managed to catch his eye. A couple of balls were made, and they all resulted in the same thing; a group of ladies following him around, showering him with shallow compliments and words that he did not wish to hear. 

How lucky he felt when he saw you walking in with your father, Lord Reed, into the ballroom, and how miserable he left that night after learning you were betrothed to his young brother; Edrik, a careless young man who —according to Lord Stark— is not worthy of you. At all. He's ruthless, the opposite of a chivalrous man. Cregan knows that while you were waiting for him for dinner, he's fucking some whores in brothels and paying with gold that he would steal from Cregan's chambers. He despised him. He was ashamed of him, and his behaviour towards you. You were a lady, a delicate and sweet girl who could have found someone better. 

Someone like himself, he would think. 

At that moment, while you were nervously chewing your nails sitting at the small table of your chambers as you drank tea, Cregan was out there searching for his younger brother, and trying to force him back to the Winterfell castle. That very same day was supposed to be your wedding, and the groom was nowhere to be seen. You knew better than to cry, you didn't want to suffer for him anymore; so you just sat there, slowly tapping your fingertips against the delicate porcelain of the cup, staring at the crackling fireplace and thinking about something else. 

At that point, you were just begging for him to be alive and well. Nothing more. 

A few minutes passed when you saw Cregan entering your chambers with his grey eyes staring intensely at you as he walked inside. His heavy boots stumped against the wooden floor, prompting you to stand up a bit too quickly. You noticed the pitiful look in his eyes when he noticed you were still wearing that white wedding dress; his heart shattered for you. 

“Did you find him?” you dared to speak first. Somehow, your voice came out colder than both of you expected.

“We did,” he nodded. “He was in a brothel… drunk and enjoying his last hours of freedom, as he said.” The annoyed tone of his voice was quite clear to hear as he spat every single word with rage and even shame. 

Gods forgive him for this insurmountable wrath towards his kin. 

“Where is he now?” The question slipped out of your lips merely out of habit. 

“In his chambers, being bathed by one of the maids,” Cregan explained, unable to bear the vision of your tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. He sought to look at a place over your shoulder, just to ease the ache in his chest.

It wasn't sadness, not at all. It was ire; he knew it. It was supposed to be your special day, and your betrothed decided to ruin it, though you were not surprised.

“Is it the maid that sucks his cock every morning? Or is it the one that let him fuck her in the arse?” you mockingly mentioned, lifting the cup of tea and sipping it slowly. The knot in your throat was becoming unbearable, too tight and barely letting you utter a word. 

Cregan's eyes softened with sorrow. “My lady,” he started, daring to take a step closer to you. The small rounded table was the only thing keeping you two apart. “Allow me to apologize for the misbehaviour of my brother, you deserve the utmost respect from whoever is lucky enough to marry you. Edrik is childish, and his actions often bring shame to our family name.”

“You shall not apologize for your brother's mistakes,” you softly said, sighing tiredly at this situation repeating over and over again. “You're an honourable man, Lord Stark, it's a pity your brother is not even half of the man you are.” 

Cregan felt his heart tapping against his chest, even under those thick layers of fur, he was still able to hear how fast it was beating. His eyes briefly looked away from you out of shyness, feeling so flustered by your mere presence. Oh, gods, this was excruciating; seeing you there with your beautiful eyes staring up at him, looking so fragile and bewitching. The white dress fit you perfectly, you were radiant that night, and he cursed at his brother for looking down on you. 

Edrik was a dumb boy. Luckily, Cregan was a wise man. 

“It pains me to know he doesn't appreciate you,” he muttered as he took unhurried steps closer to you. “You deserve so much more.” 

“It's the best I can get, I suppose,” you shrugged. “At least my betrothed is indulging his uncontrollable lust with whores instead of forcing himself on me. It could be worse.” 

“But it's not supposed to be bad at all,” Cregan discussed. “A husband has to provide for his wife, and treat her with respect.”

His hand approached your left cheek and he placed it there, cupping your face. Your soft skin felt his calloused fingers and suddenly all the air of your lungs vanished. Your lips parted, and that simple gesture blurred Cregan's mind with the urge to devour them. As he looked down at you, you could see in his eyes that there was a rare sparkle in them. It was so mesmerizing. 

“I guess you're asking too much from your brother, my Lord.”

He scoffed.

“If only the gods had been more merciful of us, you would be my wife instead,” he mentioned with a wistful tone. He took another step, and now you were able to smell the pine scent from his clothes. “We probably would be in our private celebration by now.” 

You sighed delightedly as his thumb went to your lower lip, lightly touching it as he glanced at it. Falling in love with him had been so easy; he was so kind, so courteous and gentle. Whenever his brother was cruel and mean to you, he was always there to make you feel good. Many were the times you imagined this wedding being with him instead of Edrik. 

“I would be looking at your beautiful body as you remove this gown. Only for me to see,” he whispered, his touch going downwards until he grabbed the pearls around your neck. “I would take my time to appreciate every single inch of your skin, touching you… kissing you, making sure you know you're the most beautiful maiden in Westeros.” 

His face leaned towards you, and you felt his nose rubbing against your cheek as you closed your eyes. His deep, low voice sent shivers down your spine while your mind was imagining every single word that came out of his plump lips. His touch reached down your sides until you felt his strong grip on your waist. 

Cregan took a deep breath as he smelled your sweet perfume; he couldn't help but sigh. 

“I would pleasure you in so many ways,” he continued, his voice so raspy it made your knees weak. “With my mouth, my hands… until all that comes from your lips is my name.” 

“Cregan…” you breathed out, and he hummed in delight. 

“Yes, just like that.” 

You dared to open your eyes, meeting his and seeing how they were dilated and glazed with lust; yours were probably in the same state. You were able to feel the heat between your legs, almost causing you to squirm to make you feel something. Something to sate the intense desire crawling around your body.

“I would do so many things to you, my darling,” he murmured. “Would you like me to do them?” 

You nodded.

“Yes?” 

“Yes,” you replied, embarrassingly fast. 

His hands went to your back, calloused fingers finding their way to untie your gown. Your chest was against his, and the closeness did nothing but increase your desperation to have him. 

“My brother doesn't deserve you, does he? He is just a stupid boy, and you deserve a man.” You felt the dress loosening around your body and you swallowed hard at the expectation. “Please, let me be that man for you…” 

You were unable to bear it any longer, the temptation being too much. You closed the distance between you two at the same time he started to slip the dress down your body — until it pooled around your feet. His lips fit perfectly against yours, they were slightly chapped due to the cold, yet they felt heavenly. He moaned against your mouth when you boldly deepened the kiss by grabbing Cregan’s nape and pulling him closer to you, all while his hands pressed your lower back. 

It was slow and passionate, taking your breath away as he claimed your mouth with his tongue, swirling against yours and stealing soft whimpers from you. Soon, he grabbed your thighs to lift you and sat you on the table; the cup of tea spilling to stain your white undergown, you couldn't care less. His lips on yours were all you could think of as his hands gripped your body, pressing you against him.

The thin skirt of your undergown lifted as you wrapped your legs around Cregan’s waist, and his hands began to sneak under it to touch the soft skin of your thighs. He left a heat on your body with his fingertips, one that made you desperate to feel him. All while his mouth was reluctant to leave yours, obsessed with the sweet taste of you. He would unconsciously groan, and as he pressed his hips against yours you could easily notice the effect you had on him. 

He pulled away to take a look at you, he found your swollen lips glistening with remains of your and his drool. Your eyes were sparkling as stars and your breathing growing agitated. It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Cregan Stark had fallen in love with you once again at that moment. 

“You should belong to me instead,” he huskily said. “I should be the one who takes your body-”

“Do it,” you interrupted without doublethinking it. Your tone was decided and demanding, it shocked him a little. 

“Oh, my little one…” he murmured with a strained voice as if the thought had left him breathless. 

“I don't want your brother… I never did.” Your confession drew a small smile on his lips. “Since day one all I've wanted is you.” 

He took a deep breath before cupping your face with both of his hands, forcing you to look him in the eye. 

“Look what you do to me,” he murmured as you stared at his face, noticing a rare glow in him. “Believe me when I say your feelings are mutual… you've been on my mind ever since you arrived. It was torturous to see you being disregarded by Edrik while I was sitting there wishing I could just hold your hand. My heart, my body, my soul, it all aches for you. I'm desperate to feel you, and I cannot bear it any longer.” 

The despair in his voice, so clear and vivid. 

“Allow me to do it,” he pleaded, “I'm begging you to let me have a taste of you, at least for a night… so I can finally end this torment.” 

“I will accept,” you managed to say in small gasps. “Only if you promise me this won't be the last time.” 

He nodded. “I promise.”

The time was not wasted, you quickly leaned forward to kiss him again with the same intensity and need as before. Both of you moaned against each other while your hands were swiftly untying his snow-covered coat at the same time his were pulling down your undergown until it fell down your arms. Your breasts were freed and you couldn't help but feel slightly ashamed; no man had seen you in such a vulnerable state before. However, all insecurities vanished from your overthinking mind once he laid his eyes on your chest and sighed, enamoured by the view. 

He gave you a single glance at you to ask for your permission and, once you nodded, his fingers travelled down your body until they trapped your nipples. He gently squeezed them between his digits, soft enough to not cause you any discomfort but hard enough to make them peak. Your mouth was slightly parted, allowing silent gasps to fall down your lips as he admired your pure flesh. He leaned forward then, and you instinctively leaned back; before you noticed his tongue was lapping at one of your sensitive buds, swirling around it and nibbling on it from time to time. You held your body up with your forearms, closing your eyes once he sucked on it. A moan escaped you as he pulled apart from it and went to the other one, giving it the same attention. 

His hand was grabbing the small of your back as you touched his hair, tangling your fingers in his brown locks and pulling them whenever his tongue made you feel butterflies in your belly. It was so good, and you were blissful thinking that you were doing it with him. Your ever-kind and loving Lord of Winterfell.

Suddenly, his mouth traced a path down your body, licking and kissing your belly until he reached your pelvis. You lifted your hips once his hands started to pull down your last vestiges of coverage, and in mere seconds you were completely exposed to him as your cheeks got warm once again. 

Your legs were spread by his hands on your inner thighs, and Cregan was able to see the mess in your core; you were soaking, and his mouth watered with the urge to taste you. For a few seconds, he was just there admiring you, and then he started to kiss your legs from your ankles, all the way to your hips, shamelessly marking you and leaving red bruises behind; you loved it. 

Cregan gave you a quick look, noticing how you were almost shaking with expectation; your eyes reluctant to leave his frame as his thumb spread your swollen lower lips and exposed that little, throbbing button begging for his attention. He stuck out his tongue, slowly brushing it against your clit. You almost died there. Your hand immediately went back to his hair, pulling it a bit too harshly for his liking. 

“Sh…” he cooed, kissing your inner thighs in the meantime. “Come on, little one, let me make you feel good, I know you want it.” 

Gods, you did. You need it.

“Keep your legs open for me, and let me have my feast,” he murmured before his tongue lapped on your pearl again. 

The way he teased your flesh so sensually made your limbs shake. You were gasping as he licked and kissed every single part of you, lurking around and trying to discover your most sensitive spot. Once he found it, you saw stars. 

Your betrothed was far from your mind when Cregan dared to push one of his long, thick fingers inside your weeping hole. You cried out his name as your legs shook around his head and, as he curled up his fingers to rub your walls, you felt a knot in your belly starting to form and begging to be released. Goosebumps erupted over your stimulated body.

“Gods… Cregan!” you found yourself whining. He hummed delighted with the way his name sounded from your lips. 

His tongue fervently began to flick your clit as he added another finger, pumping them slowly but deeply. The sound of your juices coating his digits was becoming addictive; so sinful, yet heavenly. He was desperate to feel you all. 

As he moaned and whimpered against your soaked flesh, you couldn't help but feel an unknown sensation in your gut; as if you were about to explode. Your heart was beating incredibly fast as you leaned your head back and let your mouth spill thousands of obscene sounds; Cregan's cock twitched in his pants the moment he looked up at you. 

Gods, you were so fucking beautiful. It was not fair that you belonged to someone else. 

Suddenly, with a shout of shock, you felt yourself peak. You gasped loudly and you clenched your eyes shut. Cregan felt your walls squeezing his fingers so deliciously as he drank from you and licked you clean. By the end of it, you were sweating, breathing fast and your hips twitching. You turned into a quivering mess.

Cregan lifted his face, giving one wolfish look before quickly grabbing your cheeks. He desperately kissed you as he groaned in ecstasy. You tasted yourself on his lips as he picked you up and took you towards the bed… the very same bed you were supposed to be sharing with your betrothed that night. 

The guilt hit you, briefly making you feel dirty and sullied. But then, as you saw Cregan slowly removing his attires, you remembered who was your betrothed, and what he was doing earlier that day. If he could fuck a whore, why couldn't you fuck another man? You doubted the lesser brother would even notice. 

Besides, it wasn't just a man, it was Cregan. Your Cregan. 

So, now, as the handsome man in front of you removed his last piece of clothing, you felt your walls clench around nothing as you glanced at his cock. His head furiously red, already leaking and twitching as he started to crawl from the bottom of the bed until he was between your legs. He kissed you again, this time slower… more tenderly. You sighed against his lips.

“You're still a maiden,” he said as a statement rather than a question. You nodded, either way, confirming his words. “Then I'll go slow… though I must warn you, it might hurt for a bit, but I promise you, little one, it'll all be worth it in the end.” 

“I trust you,” you whispered as your hand reached his cheek, gently caressing his stubble. 

“Open your legs for me, my darling,” he commanded, and you did as he said. He looked down at your entrance, “seven hells…” he groaned at the sight, before spitting down to his cock and stroking it a few times. Cregan swiped the ruddy tip of his prick against your folds, teasing them to hear you moan one more time before carefully pressing the blunt head against your entrance. 

You cried out once he started to stretch you out, feeling the slight burn that left you breathless as he made his way inside the tight hole between your trembling legs. You closed your eyes and opened your mouth; Cregan noticed your discomfort, so he brought his thumb to your clit, tracing slow circles on it and trying to make you relax. You let out a shaky breath, chest heaving through the pinch.

Your tightness would try to push him away as tried to go deeper, yet he found a way to keep going until he was fully buried inside of you, whimpering your name. Your soft walls felt so fucking good around him, almost making the man drool against your shoulder. His sweaty forehead was pressed against your cheek and you could hear his ragged breathing in your ear, causing chills down your spine. He gave you a moment to forget about the pain, all while he peppered your neck with soft kisses and gentle bites. 

“I think I have just reached heaven,” he murmured, his voice sounding so deep and seductive. “So tight, so small around my cock…” he continued words that left his mouth before he could even think about them. 

“I- I feel so full…” you muttered, feeling his length pulsing inside of you. 

“Shh… I know, my darling, just take deep breaths for me,” he commanded you, and you obeyed. His thumb pushed slightly harder against your clit and you hummed. “Mhm, does that feel nice? My beautiful girl, you're doing such a good job for me,” he praised you, “taking me so well.” 

“Feels good…” you nodded. 

“It does, doesn't it?” he softly chuckled. “Gods, the way your sweet little pussy takes my cock makes me fucking crazy. Can- can I move? Fuck– Is it okay if I start moving?” 

His gentleness and softness did little to make you forget about the way he spoke to you. His dirty words made you clench around his girth, feeling butterflies in your lower belly. You needed Cregan to move and bring back the effervescent heat. 

“Please, do,” you begged, and he wasted no time in obeying. 

His mouth dropped open as he dragged his cock out of your tightness, noticing how it was covered by your slickness. He pushed in again, filling you and causing you to moan in simultaneous discomfort and pleasure. His left hand went to your hip, grabbing your skin and going deeper inside of you. Slowly at first, he started to fasten his pace until the sound of your bodies colliding against each other was mixed with your moans. 

Your hands wrapped around his shoulders as he hid his face on your neck, his harsh breathing causing chills on your skin as he moved slowly but forcefully; such a perfect pace to make you see stars. Your legs were bent at each side of his body, while he took you and claimed your shaky frame. Soon you realized that he had not lied, it felt magnificent once the pain started to fade away. 

His name would escape your lips as if it was an endless chant, incentivizing him to keep going, to continue his movements until you couldn't bear it anymore. A layer of sweat would cover your body as Cregan's weight was on top of you, it felt as if you were burning yet you didn't want to push him away. You craved to feel his skin on you, loving the way his pelvis would brush against your throbbing clit each time he thrusts into you. 

“Fuck, my darling,” he groaned in your ear, “your pussy was made for me to fuck,” he whimpered, biting your earlobe. You replied with a whine. “So fucking delicious, feeling so tight around my cock.” 

Cregan lifted his face to look at your messy state. The eye contact that followed almost made you reach your peak once again, it was all so intense it made your head spin. Your nails dug into his flesh and he whispered your name; you hummed in response. 

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmured.

He further quickened the pace, his cock now touching that sweet spot of yours. Your walls would clench around him as you felt the much-needed orgasm approaching. A ring of your juices appeared on his cock, and he changed positions so now he was on his knees, grabbing your hips and fucking you faster, rougher. 

He saw your breasts bouncing on your chest as he thrusted into you, the sight so arousing that he felt his cock twitch inside of you. His stones were full, ready to burst at any moment now. However, no matter how much he desired it, he knew he just couldn't release inside you. No risks must be taken if he wanted to do this again. 

With your legs spreaded, his thumb effortlessly reached your exposed clits, flicking it and smearing your wetness around it. Your limbs shook as your mind went numb, and soon your orgasms washed over you. You cried out his name, tightening your grip around his cock. 

That's when he pulled out and poured himself on your soaked flesh, staining your folds with his pearly seed. 

Once he took a quick look at you, he felt a coil of raw pleasure snake around his body. A whine left his lips as he wrapped his hand around his length, stroking it a few times to make sure he would cover you with every single drop. He was overstimulated already; sweaty, breathless and flushed. He looked so beautiful like that.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, caressing your thighs. 

You frown, slightly confused. “What- what for?” 

Instead of answering you right away, he leaned and joined his lips with yours, gently and tenderly kissing you. His hands cupped your face and yours laid on his thick arms. A few minutes later, he pulled away only to leave soft kisses all over your face making you giggle. 

“For giving me the honour of making you mine,” he replied. “Though I must confess that I don't think I will be able to live without having you in my bed every night.” 

You felt a smile appearing on your lips and a familiar warmth on your cheeks. 

“Well,” you sighed, “perhaps, you should do something about it.” That flirtatious tone was a bit odd coming from you, but Cregan loved it. 

“Yes,” he nodded, softly chuckling as he leaned to kiss you once more. “I will definitely do something about it.”

@arcielee

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

[iri-desky]

iri my dear, you seem to know something about this. what is happening with dream/the dsmp. did they restart or smt? did dream say something stupid again?

im gathering its a mix of both of those but i have no clue if they correlate or idek:

HELLOOO Soda my friend!! Longtime no see!!

Okay so. Tw slurs and grooming mention

So, at one point, on Tommy and Jack's podcast, Shut Up I'm Talking, Tommy offhandedly, jokingly mentioned he didn't like Mizkif. This got Tommy in a little argument with XQC on twt-- it really wasn't anything that bad, they were just firing insults at each other, and it was mostly pretty silly (mainly on Tommy's side. XQC was just being salty but Tommy was handling it like "haha cringe" trying not to provoke too much). And TOTALLY UNPROMPTED. WITHOUT WARNING. MIND YOU THE SITUATION HAD LITERALLY NOTHING TO DO WITH HIM. DREAM BARGES INTO THE THREAD AND PROCEEDS TO MAKE A MEME THAT SINGLEHANDEDLY CALLS TOMMY'S ENTIRE FANBASE THE R SLUR.

Literally. Now for obvious reasons people were outraged, and three hours later Dream comes back and claims that he doesn't understand the backlash by revealing in the weirdest way possible he actually doesn't just have adhd, and is also autistic (i add this comment every time I explain this; "uh, go off ig") and therefore can allegedly "reclaim it" (even though that's not how you reclaim slurs, and even then that specific word is so bad that even ND people want to kill it with fire).

Now obviously this set off a chain reaction of events and replies and people going nuts, including an asinine explanation post he made on reddit (now deleted, pictured below).

This went on up until recently, whereupon Tubbo decided to get involved and set up a stream with Dream to talk about it. Dream discussed a variety of things during the stream (here's a post that just outlines all the crap he said in a lighthearted way for your own sanity) but basically, dream victimized himself the whole stream (two or three hours) and basically kept on screwing himself by mentioning more and more insane crap that happened once upon I time?? To defend himself??? One of them actually involved confessing that he allowed p●rn to be shown in a vc involving minors back during smp era. What was he thinking. The most awful part is that he barely even mentioned the event that started this whole thing at all and just redirected all the attention to other things, which, unsurprisingly, just made him look WORSE.

Naturally, Twitter is going ballistic, which includes plenty of the old dsmp members and bloggers weighing in ("happy dsmp reunion everyone").

Friendly reminder that all of this could've been avoided if Dream didn't spontaneously stick his nose into an argument that didn't involve him in any way whatsoever.

TL;DR: yes, Dream said something very, very stupid again and Twitter is going insane. As time goes on and Dream tries to defend himself, he's SOMEHOW making all the moves that just make himself look much, much, MUCH worse.

Hope this helps 👍🏽👍🏽 !!

(I'll be marking this with all the usual tags, so if this helped anyone else understand the situation, feel free to like, reply, or reblog! I'm just happy to help)

[hello-nichya-here]

If Sansa didn't already have feelings for Sandor, do you think she could have grown to love Tyrion?

No, because her feelings for Sandor (that I wouldn't even fully describe as being in love just yet) have nothing to do with why she never developed the same level of attachment/compassion towards Tyrion.

Despite her already strong bond with Sandor, she constantly notices Tyrion's attempt at being kind to her. Before anyone ever thinks of marrying them to each other he already tries to comfort her when she's upset and protects her from Joffrey's violent outbursts, and when they're ordered to get married he offers Sansa the chance of marrying one of his cousins instead (someone younger and more handsome), doesn't let Joffrey humiliate her with the whole "undress the couple and lead them to the marriage bed" thing, and even full on tells Sansa that they don't need to have sex until she wants it - and that he'll just cope with some prostitutes if she decides she never wants it.

Truly, Sansa could not ask for a kinder captor.

Because yes, that's what Tyrion actually is: her jailer. He's another person forcing her to stay in King's Landing, submiting to the Lannisters, and he actually fought against her brother Rob, who wants to rescue her and free the North.

Tyrion himself even admits in one of his POV chapters that he's not marrying Sansa just because his father told him, but because that marriage is benefitial for him. It gives him Winterfell and a pretty wife. He knows Sansa doesn't want this marriage, yet he's playing a role in forcing her into it, even if he's willing to step aside and let someone else be the groom.

The fact Sansa is not allowed to state the obvious aloud ("I don't want any Lannister") despite everyone being well aware of it is the biggest proof that Tyrion is willing to be a kind captor, but never a true savior, ally or just neutral. If it benefits his house, benefits him, then he'll go for it, regardless of what it means to Sansa, physically or psychologically - there's even a moment in which all he has to say about how Sansa is obviously depressed after the Red Wedding is that her grief made her more beautiful. This poor girl's entire family (as far as they know) has just been killed, and all Tyrion can think is "Wow, my hot wife somehow got even hotter."

Now compare that to Sandor - Sansa COULD ask for a kinder bodyguard, and by God, she does. Over and over. In her prayers, by plotting with others who offer her help, and, more importantly, by telling Sandor himself that he's being a vile person.

And as much as he hates to admit it, her opinion matters to him to the point that he actually tries to improve himself. Little by little, without even realizing it. But Sansa very much picks up on it, to the point that she constantly thinks about him, wishes he were around, assumes that a man who saved her from being assaulted MUST be Sandor even if she knows that's impossible, and even has moments in which she questions her decision to not leave with him at the end of the second book (despite the fact that he had been in a middle of a PTSD episode and held a knife to her throat).

That's THE key difference between Sandor and all of Sansa's other potential suitors. He's in love/lust with her, yes, and he would certainly not complain if she decided to reward his compassion towards her by becoming his wife/lover - but he doesn't believe he's OWED that, and when she tells him he's not getting what he wants, not only does he back off, but he lists his inappropriate advances towards her (as well as his shortcomings as her protector, something NONE of the other men ever admit to also being guilty of) as one of the main reasons why he deserves to DIE.

When Sansa disappears after supposedly killing Joffrey and not taking her husband along, Tyrion can only throw himself a pity party about how she was so "false" when making her vows to him - nevermind that she made these vows under duress and that he broke them first by playing a role in her family's downfall. When he "saves" (kidnaps) her, Littlefinger is constantly trying to brute force Sansa into the role of his daughter AND lover, despite her obvious discomfort, and keeps implicating her in all of his crimes to keep her trapped.

But Sandor literally goes "I failed to protect her and even posed a threat to her myself, why don't I just die?" And now he's in rehab/therapy, despite thinking he'll never see her again and will thus never be rewarded. He's just genuinely sorry and adjusting his behavior accordingly because it's the right thing to do and what Sansa would want, and he wishes to honor her.

(Not to mention, Sandor is a nobody in Westerosi society. He has no money, no influence, no powerful allies, literally nothing aside from pure physical strength that he's already promissed to use solely for the KING'S safety and best interests. Him going out of his way to help her, even screaming at the king in public so he'll stop hitting her, is VERY dangerous for him)

That is what makes Sansa (mostly retroactively) fall in love with Sandor. It wasn't just because he was the first potential knight in shinning armor to offer her his protection or the one who was around the longest, but because he's the only one that doesn't feel entitled to her, despite being the one that is taking the most risks and being the one that she actually feels safer with it and would eventually become attracted to. She trust him and that allows a genuine connection to form.

To all the others, Tyrion very much included, she's a potential trophy, a compensation for a lifetime of misery, their object of affection, a valuable asset that will help them with their politial ambitions -whether she likes it or not. To Sandor, she's a person, one that is free to choose not having him around, regardless of what kind things he does for her.

Tyrion could never mean as much to Sansa as Sandor did because, despite claiming otherwise, he does not actually respect her right to reject him. He won't full on sexually assault her, but he's still holding her hostage, allowing his family to coerce her into being his wife (meaning he already went further with her than any other man as he got to kiss her, see her naked and even grope her despite her CLEARLY not being okay with it), and playing a role in killing her family for wanting to save her from this fate.

He can lie to himself about it all he wants, but he's not the hero that simply looks like a monster but will ultimately save the princess that is trapped in the tower, prove everybody wrong and then be rewarded with her affection - he's just the guy that locked her door.

[lightningant]

Any recommendations that have similar vibes to Venom or Valor?

About to humiliate my self because I'm about to list a very limited range of fics that are significantly better than mine with very different styles from mine. But you need this information

I started writing Venom or Valor specifically because of:

Bookbinding by Asenora/ @saintsenara, tom/myrtle - at the time I was only just barely sketching out why I was so fascinated with Tom and piecing together how his grandiosity and drama and mood swings spoke to a primal longing within him and this fic didn't press my buttons so much as smack me up the skull with a 2x4.

A Learning Experience by Laeveteinn, mostly gen - incredible character study of Tom's 10 years at Borgin and Burkes. Ending made my toes curl.

yes I realize the humour that neither of these are tomarry. Sorry I only ship it because I think Harry would make Tom happy like I'm indulging my favourite child

Some other stuff I think contributed:

Strings of Fate, by dizzydreamer, Tomarry - Every chapter has me absolutely screaming in laughter because Tom doesn't know how to act. Just an INCREDIBLE parade of deranged behaviour, really unfolding his worst tendencies like a beautiful flower. Babe you gotta stop licking the book

Consumption by Laeveteinn, Tomarry - quite possibly my favourite tomarry fanfic in the whole wide world. I want to hand-feed this to squeamish newcomers. If you like my Tom Laeveteinn is basically mandatory reading

Innocent (until proven guilty) by Laeveteinn, Tom/Grindelwald - pointing this one out specifically because this fic is activating villain apologia of the likes never before seen within me. Dumbledore bashers don't have the range to write this specific texture of child neglect. I feel like I am witnessing actual family drama. Grindelwald genuinely anguished and trying to find direction in his life grooming Tom is like something my mom would tell me about my cousin. I feel like I got to drive out to see him. I got to drive out across Canada to see Tom and tell him. I got to tell him that he should probably find himself before shacking up with a 60-year-old man famous for manipulating his way out of anything. My baby cousin Tom

Lover's Spit by amelinda and k3u, Tomarry - I keep calling this unrecommendable and then keep recommending it. Cannot repeat enough times that it is about Tom Riddle being inadvertently groomed by 4chan to be an edgelord stalking and threatening to rape the boy he has a crush on in a manner so grotesque he becomes a media sensation as a figurehead of horrifying internet depravity corrupting our children. That all being said. I've never read a fic with such loving worldbuilding it makes me think "should I stop reading fanfic and get back into literary fiction". I absolutely love the cadence of Tom's thoughts and the way he code-switches to slur-regurgitating 4channer. Most importantly: good face-tearing slowburn

dum spiro spero by Asenora/Saintsenara, Tom/Rookwood - Another pseudo-hanahaki, really concretely cemented my desire to ship Tom with anyone who can make him happy. The way Rookwood talks about Tom is truly incredible. The humour is impeccable. The monologue. You know the fic is good when it makes you wail IRL. Asenora a fantastic author, not just for Tom but for character studies in general. 10/10 Merope fics

Sorry this is almost entirely two authors. As always, I am a slow reader of the likes never before seen AND I'm picky. Nothing else has contributed to how VoV reads. It really is just these fics and Thor Ragnarok.

[sparklethoughtbubble]

Some terms to look out for

I know this is something that would normally go on the anti rq blog, but I think this is relevant to the situation at hand, given that many KC supporters self-identify as "radqueer" and thus have adopted much of their vernacular. Warning for NSFW topics and very upsetting topics such as grooming, zoophilia and incest.

TransID: Someone identifying with traits they do not physically have other than gender. This in itself is not really problematic and many are harmless, such as "transhaircolor" or "transangel" or something like that. However, there are a few sublabels in this that are worrying if not outright dangerous. -Transage: Identifying as an age that you are not. This is different from age regression, a normal coping mechanism, and ABDL, a consensual (albeit a bit unsanitary in my opinion, but whatever) kink. Transage people desire to transition to permanently being a specific age, usually a child or teen. They then use this to justify interacting with minors in a romantic or sexual way or to avoid accountability by infantilizing themselves so that it seems as though they just "didn't know any better." -Transharmed: Self-explanatory. People who wish to be harmed in a specific way. Highly alarming and indicative of an unstable mental state. If you know anyone that identifies as "transgroomingvictim" or similar, please reach out to them and try to help them understand that they don't deserve to be hurt like that. -Transharmful: Also self-explanatory. Paradoxically, radqueers will insist that people who are transage, transabled etc really are these ages or whatever else, but that a "transmurderer" or "transnazi" isn't really a murderer or nazi. These are only a few examples. Like I stated, the majority of TransIDs are a nothingburger issue, but there are some very worrying ones.

Consang/Consanguinity: Incest term. Refers to an incestuous relationship. I don't really know what the etymology of it is.

Conabuse: "Consensual abuse." Not to be confused with BDSM or similar. One individual is abusive in any way you can think of with another, with no safewords or boundaries. It is considered "consensual" to radqueers because they "ask for it," but there is no ability to revoke consent. Threats and isolation are usually used to keep the partner from leaving.

Pediverse: Ring of Mastodon instances used by Radqueers to recruit and interact with minors, share CSEM and reassure each other that they are doing nothing wrong. Includes Oddballs and NNIA, which many of you have probably heard of already.

Contact Stance: Whether or not you think fucking animals and kids is okay. -Anti Contact: Normal person with a basic level of respect for other lifeforms -Pro-Contact: Dogfucker/Kidfucker/Whatever -Complex-Contact: Thinks fucking kids and animals is a "nuanced issue" that needs to be looked at on a "case by case basis" -Contact-Neutral: Doesn't care if you fuck kids or animals

MAP: "Minor Attracted Person" aka pedophile. You probably know this one. Also includes "YAP," or "youth attracted person." AAM: "Adult attracted minor." Term used by radqueers to gaslight minors into thinking they are paraphiles and that adult pedophiles are the only "partners" that will "really love them." Also grooms them into becoming pedophiles during adulthood.

Xenosatanist: Radqueer that isn't attempting to hide that they are an evil zoosadist pedophile rapist. Has nothing to do with actual satanism and just put that there to be edgy.

Not a specific term, but I think at this point it's safe to say that proshipping in itself has become a radqueer dogwhistle. Every radqueer i have seen or even occasionally had the displeasure of talking to also happened to be a proshipper, and claimed that the desires/plans they had to actually hurt people were "just fiction" or "weird kinks."

They also love to say that terms that have nothing to do with them actually came from them when they didn't. For example, they like to say that being objectum is radqueer, or that self-diagnosing is radqueer, or that having literally any kink is radqueer. They think that fucking squirrels are the same as wearing a puppy mask or being chained up (consensually.)

Anyway, sorry for the huge text post. Just stating things to look out for.

If you want proof that I'm not just pulling all of this out of my ass, here you go!

Blog with lots of information and dogwhistles Explanation of xenosatanism, straight from the horse's mouth Not the original "coining" post, but an explanation of what consang is from someone who supports it

[daenerys-apolog1st]

It's literally insane how TG and Alicent Stans will see someone criticizing Alicent for things she's done and choices that she's actively made, and then they're only response is just- "she was groomed by Viserys! She was manipulated by her father! How dare you criticize her when she's a victim!" -and like...be so fucking serious.

Yes, in the show, Alicent is groomed by her father and Viserys, and her initial mistrust of Rhaenyra and support of Aegon's eventual usurpation was planted by her father's manipulations. However, that does not excuse the choices that she actively made as an adult and that also doesn't mean that she did not grow up to be an abuser herself and that she is above criticism.

She was an adult when she abused Rhaenyra for 10+ years, terrorized her family to the point where they left their home, spread rumors that she knew full well could get her and her children killed, and took every chance she could to humiliate and hurt her or the ones she loved.

She was an adult when she demanded that Rhaenyra's 5 second old newborn child be separated from their mother and brought to her, knowing full well that 1. Rhaenyra would likely bring the child herself because she would never allow her baby to be taken from her, 2. that Rhaenyra was terrified of childbirth and losing children because she watched her mother literally be killed by it and lost multiple siblings right after childbirth, and 3. that right after birth is a very delicate time for a baby and that demanding them be separated from the mother and paraded around the castle could put them in danger.

She was an adult when she filled her children's heads with the idea that their sister hated them and was going to kill them, separating them from the rest of their family and sowing hatred between them, and placing the idea of usurpation in their heads. Aegon outright says that he doesn't want the throne, that he doesn't want to challenge her, but Alicent forces him onto the throne anyway.

She was an adult when she did everything she could to protect her rapist son, including threatening a girl who he'd just raped and basically throwing her out of the castle, all the while it's heavily implied that he's raped girls before and she's done nothing about it but give him slaps on the wrist.

She was an adult when she betrothed her 13 year old daughter to said rapist son, therefore continuing the cycle of abuse that she once faced herself in her daughter---despite the fact that there were plenty of other perfectly good options for her daughter and she didn't have to do that.

She was an adult when she went after a 5 year old with a knife and tried to maim him over an accident instead of blaming the adults in the situation that were actually at fault for not watching the kids, an accident that---mind you---Aemond told her to stop freaking out over himself because he got a dragon out of it. But she ignored him and then proceeded to make him losing an eye all about herself with her little speech.

She was an adult when she heard that Larys Strong murdered his family, including the Hand of the King, and did absolutely nothing to bring him to justice and never told anyone else that could've done something---before then reaping the benefits of him murdering his family by having her father made Hand once again.

She was an adult when she was fucking the kingsguard that was supposed to be protecting her daughter and grandchildren, leading to no guards being around to protect them (Criston sent them all away), the night that her grandson was murdered. AND THEN worrying more about covering her own ass than her literal grieving daughter afterwards.

She was an adult when she offered up her son's head to Rhaenyra despite the fact that she was the one who forced her son on the throne in the first place, basically willing to sacrifice him to---again---cover her own ass.

And so much more throughout the course of the show.

Yes, Alicent was a victim, but that does not excuse her actions nor put her above criticism---being abused does not mean you cannot be an abuser yourself. At a certain point, the fact that she was a victim becomes obsolete in these conversations because---as an adult---she chose to do the things she did herself, and it's ridiculous to use the abuse she faced as a child as a scapegoat for every bad thing she's ever done.

Like, again, be so fucking serious.

[madockisser]

I just finished Elfhame series and came across your tumblr and your post about "Cardan just wanting love" and your analysis was enjoyable to read.

However, after finishing books 1, 2, and 3, I get the feeling that Cardan isn’t... faithful to Jude. Fae are very poly, and Cardan was/is definitely a thot, and Jude's insecurities over that never go away.

Do you believe Cardan is monogamous after The Wicked King?

Will cardan stay loyal to jude? / cardans views of faith / his love for jude

😭😭no hate to anon but i can’t ever picture cardan NOT being faithful to jude. Also anon did you read “how the king of elfhame learned to hate stories”

btw I’ve made posts like this before(regarding his faith) and they dive into other aspects of why i think he was faithful: this one!!!

he singled jude out from the very beginning during palace school, he fell for jude WHILE he was with nicasia, for so many reasons.

he at first found her infuriating and frustrating for her advantages that she had and he didn’t, despite being raised on the idea that humans were garbage.

then he fell for her determination and audacity, her cunning and strength. even as jude made him look weak, he wanted her and only her.

Meanwhile, cardan hates ass-kissers, which is nicasia, and the rest of the court. He hates that courtiers will allow him to slap and use them, all while going home to people that actually loved them. This is stated in his novella.

Cardan is brought up on the idea that he is a prince that has nothing, that he is worthless despite his title, and he hates it. And that’s how the people treat him, adored and petted on for short times (mostly for favor), but ultimately abandoned and unloved.

Yes, cardan has had lovers, as seen in tcp, in twk, but never after the beggining of the wicked king when he’s shot at. of course courtiers drape themselves on him, but he is aware that they do not love him and that he does not love them, he has only grown not to lash out at them, at which i imagine was based on the fact that he was no longer under balekins suffrance (his beatings) and because he now had jude (even if they weren’t really allies at this point, he still craves Jude’s favor and acts accordingly, as seen as when he gives Taryn his army bc he thinks she’s jude, as seen as him trying time and time again to gain her favor in twk)

Because he wants jude to trust him. Even in the first book, even BEFORE the first book, in his novella, cardan WANTS jude to admire him. he wants jude to see him as he wishes to be seen, princely and powerful, i will attach a pic below from his novella:

(Honestly this pic ALONE pretty much seals the deal for me that he wouldn’t so much as look at another, let alone cheat on jude)

now, onto monogamy and fae standards:

Cardan has shown a clear dislike for many fae standards and cultures.

He sees humans differently from others, he sees life as precious and as something to hold onto, (I’m talking about his morals and his unwillingness to kill even someone that another faerie would consider beneath him), he is unlike his brothers in the power-hungry sense, he likes taking the easy way out, and he craves true love above all.

Jude’s monologue once said that faeries view lovemaking as a sport, as a game. But cardan also said that he never saw love as a game. And he cannot lie.

Add on: bro LITERALLY called jude his GOD. and he cannot lie… so why would he ever have anyone else? exactly!

Another thing, his view of human culture. We know he read Alice in wonderland. We also know that to humans, exchanging rings is commonly our wedding/marital tradition. It it not a fae tradition, for a bride and groom to give each other rings.

Cardan went out of his way to learn about Jude’s culture when proposing to her, and he also stole her ring very early on in the wicked king, so i can imagine that he was planning to propose for a while. To make her his queen.

It is also human culture to remain loyal and monogamous.

Then, when she left during the exile. he was devastated, and begged her to come home in letters that his mother did not send.

In twk, cardan learns, slowly but surely, how to be good. How to be a good king, a good person. For Jude. He learns that he doesn’t have to resort to drinking himself sick to avoid all the misery he endures, but to overcome those miseries and become a good man. and he does it partly for jude and also of course-for himself.

Cardan never knew he could be good, he could be loved. But jude taught him that. (If that isn’t enough to think that he wouldn’t remain monogamous then damn)

Then of COURSE there’s the fact that jude is human. there aren’t many unglamoured humans in elfhame, and obviously Jude’s body is different from a faerie. i like to think that cardan has a specific attraction to Jude’s human body, rather than the same old faerie bodies he’s seen. (I get it king)

LASTLY, i just want to remind us all of how cardan reacted when he found nicasia (of whom he was in a royal relationship with, like him and Jude) with Locke. the photos from his novella are below:

He views nicasias little fling with Locke as excruciating, as a horrible painful betrayal, and he trusted her not to hurt him. (Similar to him and jude, how they trust each other by the end of it, not to hurt one another)

and also, i highlighted “pretend” because although it is faerie standard to be poly in many relationships, cardan STILL is pained by her actions and his dignity and heart are both in shreds. he will pretend to love her after, if the opportunity arises and nicasia doesn’t love him, if it turns out to be just a fling, but he would still be pained by being with her.

if that is how cardan feels about being with lovers, about jude being poly or him being poly, why would he go and inflict that on jude?? he wouldn’t. what him and jude have is much more real than what he and nicasia had because it wasn’t built on obligation (and also the idea that nicasia was going to eventually murder him and steal his throne)

Moral of the story, cardan would not be with other lovers for these reasons: he loves her and he loves to be loved by her, he has learned human cultures to make himself a better husband for her and he follows those traditions, he is heavily distrustful and he dislikes courtiers. also him and jude are MARRIED ROYALTY, at which they are bound by the throne and the land to be together or whatever

anyway thanks for coming to my Ted talk! it shocks me that anyone would think that he would be with others, even if it is faerie culture, cardan is absolutely DEVOTED to that woman (i understand you king)

add on: also ofc jude is scared to get her heart hurt, she guards her heart the ENTIRE series until the end w cardan- and she’s sad when she sees him w nicasia when she asks cardan to get w her in twk. also he’s smoking hot and the king so yeah i would be thinking abt his sex life too lol. also- bro doesn’t even consider the thought that she thinks he may have been w another lover (in qon when they are about to bang) like he is so madly in love w her and she doesn’t even see it, they’re so cute! ALSO cardan has finally found love w jude so it doesn’t make sense for him to go and seek out another, especially since he’s distrusting and hates boot lickers lol

sorry for being so dead on here, I’m from the US so i was saving this last week for rotting my brain on TikTok for the last few days !! I’m working on more asks and ily 🫶 also feel free to add anything i probably missed!! This was messy and lmk if there are any typos!! ok bye

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Fifty-One

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Dawn encroached on the painful silence in camp. It seemed oblivious to the mourning in the shadows.

And it really was mourning, Fireheart was relieved to see as he looked over his Clanmates surrounding Bluestar’s body. Guilt and regret on some faces, grief and nostalgia on others. He caught several whispers of “I wish” and “if only”. The anger Frostfur had for Bluestar was gone; she sat beside her kits, eyes on the ground and ears back, pointing up to the pale sky. Even Goldenflower had her eyes shut tight, face creased morosely. Fireheart wondered to himself if she was wishing she had treated Bluestar differently up to now.

Stars know everyone else is.

Almost everyone was looking down at their paws, but Fireheart caught many glances his way, some concerned for his heart and others concerned for his next move, guessed by their minute changes in expression. He didn’t get to examine them for long—they immediately turned their heads when they realized they were being observed.

Greystripe and Ravenwing had taken up positions on either of Fireheart’s sides, leaning against him just enough to provide some comforting pressure without crushing him. Ravenwing was grooming the top of Fireheart’s head, trying to force a purr and more wobbling out breaths, and Greystripe’s bushy tail wrapped around his hind end. Neither of them spoke, just offered warmth and companionship.

Time seemed halted in place, even with the sky changing colors. Fireheart knew he had to do something for his Clanmates, but his eyes kept returning to the limp, bony body in the center of camp. He had managed to close her eyes, but she didn’t remotely look like she was sleeping. She reminded him of the kit-apprentices that had died in the battle against ShadowClan on WindClan’s territory—a pointless tragedy that he knew he would never get out of his memories.

It just wasn’t fair.

A shift of sand made him look up. Dustpelt was slowly making his way over to Fireheart, his face apprehensive. Fireheart got to his feet, his friends edging away from him to give him room while still staying close.

“What do you want to do?” Dustpelt asked in a low voice when he was within a muzzle-length’s distance from him.

Fireheart breathed in slowly, looking for a long moment at Bluestar, before turning back and speaking just as quietly. “I want to speak to the elders with you. We need to figure this out.”

Dustpelt nodded, both curt and sympathetic. He and Fireheart walked together in silence over to the elder’s den, where One-eye and Halftail were waiting. Neither of them said anything. One-eye just cocked her head in a gesture to the young toms and led them into the depths of the hollow log that made up the den. It went back surprisingly deep, giving enough space for the elders to sit together at the furthest wall and the warriors to sit across from them with more than a body-length of den left.

“Three dead in one night,” One-eye sighed. “So many senior warriors gone, too. We’re like a headless deer.”

Halftail lowered his chin. “Speckletail and Whitecloud at least had the foresight to tell us who they wanted to be their deputies. Even with only the young and mostly young remaining, we know what to do.”

“We have you two,” Dustpelt offered. “The Clan could’ve fallen to infighting without your speaking up and making this decision.”

Fireheart’s stomach knotted at the idea of his Clanmates arguing with each other, battling for leadership—or, worse, the Clan failing entirely, leaving nothing but an empty camp and loners seeking shelter in the other Clans.

That wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t.

I can’t let it.

“This decision isn’t ours,” Halftail said. He swept slowly with a paw, gesturing to the warriors. “It’s yours.”

“You need to speak with each other and choose for yourselves,” One-eye said. “We’re here as witnesses, and perhaps advisors. One of you will be leader. It’s up to you if the other will be deputy.”

The knot in Fireheart’s stomach tightened and iced over. His eyes met with Dustpelt’s; to his faint relief, the tabby looked just as terrified. Neither of them spoke for a long moment.

“Well…” Dustpelt finally said, his voice weaker and more uncertain than Fireheart had ever heard before. “You know how I feel about it. So…”

Fireheart closed his eyes in thought. Dared he take such a high position himself? Could he handle it? Would anyone agree to this? Was he ready?

Maybe not, but… he had to try, didn’t he? For ThunderClan, if nothing else.

When he looked back at Dustpelt, he gave a reassuring blink. “I do. I’ll be happy to be leader if the Clan will accept me.” Dustpelt only got a heartbeat of relief before Fireheart lifted his tail. “On the condition that you’ll be my deputy. At least for now.” Dustpelt winced and Fireheart sheepishly twitched his whiskers. “I do need all the help I can get, and I know the other Clans would respect you more than me. If I have your support, I have the support of everyone. At least, to some extent.”

Dustpelt’s voice was faint. “…You’re more popular with others than you think.”

“And you’re more of an asset to ThunderClan than you think,” Fireheart gently retorted. “Whitecloud said that he wanted us both to lead when he was gone. We balance each other out, cover each other’s faults. I think he was right. And I’m inclined to honor his wishes.” He squinted in joking sternness. “I know how much you like to obey your seniors.”

A coughed half-chuff escaped Dustpelt, and his threatening-to-bristle fur settled again. He looked to the elders, who each gave an encouraging nod, and then back to Fireheart.

“You better find someone to replace me as soon as possible,” he said, giving a joking squint of his own.

“The instant a younger cat arrives with potential, you’re being thrown out of your rank,” Fireheart promised. “Don’t come wailing to me when you change your mind and want to be leader after all.”

Dustpelt snorted before turning to the elders. “We’ve made our decision, then.”

“You have.” One-eye stood up stiffly. “Let’s report to the rest of the Clan, and we’ll see what they think.”

Fireheart took the lead, the significance of such a minor thing not lost on him, and stepped out of the elder’s den. Cats had sat close by the log, eavesdropping as they waited. Now that the authority was out in the open, they shuffled backwards or ducked their heads, but their eyes stayed on Dustpelt and Fireheart as the pair walked to the meeting stump. By the time they jumped onto it, the entire Clan had gathered around, giving Bluestar’s body a wide berth.

“We’ve spoken with One-eye and Halftail,” Dustpelt said, brisk and businesslike despite his shaking tail tucked close behind his legs. “And we’ve made a decision about leadership.” He immediately looked at Fireheart, stepping a bit to the side to give him room.

Fireheart looked down at his Clanmates. He had no idea what perfect thing he could say to make them all feel safe and comforted. He didn’t know what to say at all, really. He felt their eyes on him as he had as a half-year-old kittypet, small and awkward against the giants of ThunderClan.

But he had to say something.

His eyes drifted over to Bluestar’s body. He straightened his posture, opened his mouth, and prayed that Bluestar’s spirit would give him strength.

“Whitecloud told the elders, months ago, that he was going to choose between me and Dustpelt for his future deputy.” Fireheart silently cursed that his voice was so soft even as he tried to raise it to something like the volume someone in authority would use. “And he told me that his vision was for whichever one of us was picked to appoint the other as deputy when they themselves became leader. He wanted us to lead together, even as young as we are.” Grief tightened his throat. “I don’t know what he saw in me, but I trust his intuition better than anyone else’s.”

He half-expected someone to shout for him to get to the point. No one did. They just watched him, a mix of sorrow and hope in their eyes.

“Dustpelt has agreed to serve as deputy,” he went on. “And, if you would have me—if you trust me to do it, as Whitecloud imagined, and as I would be honored to do - I’ve agreed to be leader.”

“Oh, come on.”

There it was. Fireheart looked over the crowd, catching sight of Darkstripe towards the back and right, scowling at him in complete disgust.

“You must be joking,” Darkstripe said, much louder than Fireheart. “You really expect we’d let a yearling kittypet lead us? Your apprentice isn’t fully raised—hardly raised at all, going by what he’s been doing behind our backs that you allowed.” His yellow eyes narrowed. “Not to mention all that you’ve done yourself to ‘honor’ ThunderClan. Serving our enemies, breaking laws, disrespecting superiors. You’re too soft and you can barely count! What idiot would agree to this?”

“I would,” Greystripe said immediately.

“So would I,” Ravenwing agreed.

“Count me in on that.” Sandstorm, close to Darkstripe, disdainfully tossed her head. “You can be petty and whine about it if you want, but these two are the best hope we have for ThunderClan to make it out of this rotted mess.”

“I agree, too,” Lizardtail said. He gave Fireheart an approving look. “They’re both more capable than you think.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise, touched as more and more support rose out of the crowd. The fear in their eyes was drowned in the growing light of hope. Goldenflower’s proud purr could be heard over the rest of the voices, and Bramblekit was staring at Fireheart in awe. Even Tawnykit nodded in approval. It tickled him to look over and see Darkstripe staring at his Clanmates, baffled and outraged.

“Then…” Fireheart cleared his throat as the noise died down enough for him to be heard. “Does ThunderClan approve of this? Me as leader, Dustpelt as deputy?”

Dustpelt looked at him with a nod, then said to the crowd, “An ‘aye’ if you approve.”

A round of “Aye!”, called almost in unison, washed around Fireheart. He couldn’t see anyone (except Darkstripe) who hadn’t said it. He looked at Dustpelt, suddenly fighting a swelling of giddiness in his chest. Dustpelt’s eyes were crinkled in warm amusement at whatever expression Fireheart had on. Probably kit-like excitement. Fireheart tried to control his face into something more calm as the “ayes” died down.

“Thank you all,” he said humbly. “I’m honored to serve you.”

Sandstorm raised her voice, dry and casual as usual, but he didn’t miss the camaraderie in her tone. “So, leader, what’s your first order?”

---

Fireheart’s first order, after a moment of thought, was to scout the northern forestland and retrieve Whitecloud and Yellowfang. Dustpelt was firm about him staying home in case the dog was still out there, despite Fireheart’s attempt to lead the search party himself. Dustpelt took control of that, taking Teaselfoot, Lizardtail, and Mousefur out with him. The rest stayed in, waiting, until they came back, carrying the torn and bloody bodies solemnly. It was daylight by this time, and Fireheart wasn’t the only one exhausted.

“Leave them in the center of camp with Bluestar,” he decided when Teaselfoot asked what to do. “We need to rest and recover. We’ll take them out to be buried tomorrow night.”

A bit ghoulish of him to leave corpses in the open, perhaps, but no one argued with this idea. Everyone dragged themselves to their nests without a word. It took Fireheart until he stepped into the warrior’s den to realize that he would be sleeping elsewhere now, and this wasn’t his den anymore.

One more night, as a goodbye, he thought, and curled up in his nest by the entryway. No one argued with him or even asked what he was doing here. They were all too busy sleeping. Fireheart gazed into the darkness of the den, watching Ravenwing and Greystripe rest by him before falling asleep himself.

He was the first to wake up that night, as usual. He contemplated resting some more, but the memories of the previous night shook him awake, and (not without some reluctance) he pulled himself out of his nest for the last time.

Out in camp, Whitecloud, Yellowfang, and Bluestar were resting together. Goldenflower was in her usual position, dozing in front of the nursery. Aspenpaw was likely inside with the kits, Fireheart figured. He glanced over at the prey-pile, grateful for its size. He approached it, took a squirrel, and placed it in front of Goldenflower.

Just as he turned away, her soft voice came to him. “Honeymouse?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” He turned back, aware that he hadn’t groomed out his pelt. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you. Are you doing alright? Being…” His tail swept towards the bodies. “Out here with them?”

Goldenflower blinked lovingly at him. “I’m better than alright. My son is the leader of ThunderClan. How could I be anything but ecstatic?” Before he could say anything, she sat up, towering over him, and started brushing away dry moss with her paw. “He’s got to look presentable, of course.”

Fireheart purred in amusement, letting her paw moss off here and lick a stray hair there. “I do have to keep myself clean. It’d be a bad look for my mira to be grooming me like a kit.”

“Oh, give me this last one.” Goldenflower nosed his ear affectionately and sat back, pleased with herself. “There, that’s better. Now you look like a leader.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever look like that,” Fireheart said meekly, standing straight even so. “But I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all we can ask for,” Goldenflower said, briefly pressing her forehead to his.

Fireheart blinked at her slowly before turning and walking to the trio of bodies. He stood over them, silently reflecting on the torn neck of Whitecloud and the cracked-backwards spine of Yellowfang. Their blood had dried on their pelts. Curious that they hadn’t bled onto the sand. Maybe it stopped running when one died.

“I’m sorry I ran,” he murmured to Whitecloud and Yellowfang. “I know you told me to, but… I can’t help but feel I should’ve stayed and fought to save you.” He grimaced. “I guess I’d be dead too, then. I don’t know if I want to die just yet. ThunderClan needs me.” He sighed through his nose in an attempt at humor. “Isn’t that hilarious? Me being needed by so many cats. I hope you were right about this, Whitecloud.”

The bodies didn’t speak, but Fireheart had a faint impression of a cuffed ear, like Yellowfang was swatting him in irritation for his self-doubt.

He went to the meeting stump, taking a mole, and sat atop it, his prey between his paws, not eating just yet. Slowly, his Clanmates emerged, one by one, yawning and quickly licking their pelts. A few caught sight of Fireheart and drew closer to the stump. By the time the last cat came out, a crowd had settled around him, waiting for him to speak.

“It’s a sad way to start the night,” he said after he was sure everyone was listening. “But I think we as a Clan ought to take Whitecloud, Yellowfang, and Bluestar out and bury them, before we do anything else.” He looked down at Cinderpaw, standing beside the stump and watching him with unusual sadness. “Where do you think Yellowfang would like to be buried?”

Cinderpaw sighed, but her response came quick. “In the heart of the forest. I think she’d tear my ears off if I took her back to ShadowClan. This was her home.”

Fireheart nodded, and spoke to the Clan again. “What of Whitecloud?”

“Perhaps by the Sycamore,” Willowpelt said, glum. “He was as great of a deputy as we could hope for.”

Fireheart tilted his head just a little at something odd in her eyes, but he addressed the Clan. “That we can do.”

“What about Bluestar?” Mousefur asked.

Fireheart had thought about this one. He expected it wouldn’t be received well, but he said it anyway. “I believe near Sunningrocks would be best for her.”

The older cats frowned immediately, and the younger cats looked confused.

“Her kits are buried there,” Fireheart explained, and some cats blinked in surprise. “Yes, she had kits, and they died. As much as some in ThunderClan don’t want to talk about it, Sunningrocks has significance to her, kits and…” He hesitated. “Otherwise.”

The younger cats looked at each other in puzzlement, but, to Fireheart’s relief, the older warriors’ frowns relented and they voiced delayed agreement.

“We’ll take them all together, as a Clan.” Fireheart stood up. “After we’re done, I would like everyone to try and catch something on their way home. We need to rest and eat, and, well, be a little more presentable for the Gathering.”

“So we will be going?” Brackenpaw asked hopefully.

Fireheart nodded. “If we can be sure the dog isn’t going to intercept us. The Gathering is tomorrow; let’s keep our ears and eyes open as we move around the forest. Now—” He looked around the Clan. “Are we in agreement about the burial sites?”

Scattered confirmations.

“Good.” He gestured to the prey-pile. “But let’s all try to eat first. We have a long night ahead of us.”

[bigboysfalldeep]

There I was—a loner, sitting inside a crowded lounge, looking at the ring laying in the palm of my hand.

"It's just not going to work." I told myself over and over again, but I had nothing to lose.

I bought it weeks prior from a weird yet friendly stranger—a middle-aged dude looking quite sharp, but something about him was off. He contacted me after I went down the hypnosis rabbit hole. I read multiple articles and posts and watched so many different videos about how to hypnotize someone, willing or not. I even left a comment under one post, even though I was anxious. I was new to this—all of this—and I didn't want anyone to look at me differently.

I always dreamt of hypnotizing a handsome jock to make him my own, but this wasn't happening in real life, was it? That's exactly what I thought when that man reached out to me, offering me this ring. A beautiful silver ring with a blue stone—alluring yet nothing too special.

He told me that this would help me make my wish come true; the only thing he asked for was for me to share some of my future "acquaintances."

I shook my head in disbelief. I was so stupid to trust in this man and his sly smile. He was probably enjoying my hundred bugs while I was blinded by my fantasies.

I put the ring in my pocket and got up from my table. There was no point in staying here any longer; I wanted to go home.

But that's when I saw this handsome man sitting at a table, all alone. He was smoking a cigar and blew a ton of smoke into the air all around him while leaning back against the sofa. His eyes wandered through the room; he seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting from a few people around the lounge, including me.

He looked so good—a well-groomed beard, nice hair, a very hot body—everything I dreamt of. That man had that look on his face: he knew how good he looked, and he was bathing in attention—mine at least.

Something deep inside me wanted this man so badly. I immediately imagined him being mine and mine alone—how good it would feel to touch him, toy with him, and just own him. Good god, I felt myself getting lost inside this daydream.

At this point, I felt the ring inside my pocket. I pulled it out again, looking at it with desire and anxiety. Would this actually work? Or was I in for a beating?

"Fuck it." I breathed and let the silver slide onto my finger. Oddly enough, it fit quite well, but I wasn't feeling any different. I hoped it would feel different, special, or something else. This wasn't encouraging at all.

Shaking my head again, I made my way through the crowd toward that beautiful stranger. He didn't even look at me until I sat down right next to him, causing him to turn his head, giving me a curious but suspicious look.

"Can I help you?" That guy looked at me; I felt his gaze burning my skin, even though I wasn't looking at him yet. I knew he saw me for what I was: a loner, maybe a random creep, but I didn't care.

I placed a finger at the ring and moved it, causing the crystal to move along my finger.

"I hope so." I said, my voice breaking slightly when I turned my head to meet his gaze. Fuck, he was even better looking up close. His lips, eyes, and beard are perfection.

The guy narrowed his eyes at me, and I felt the tension rising between us.

A little taken aback, he regained his composure. "Oh fuck, he was going to clock me," I thought. But the guy online told me to do exactly that—make the ring spin a few times.

"I don't know who you are, but you better..." The guy suddenly stopped, his eyes now stuck at the slightly glowing ring.

I was prepared to just make a run for it when I noticed that he was focused on the ring. His expression softened slowly; the scowl vanished completely, replaced by an empty look in his eyes.

Oh, those beautiful eyes—they lost their shimmer, just barely, but I could tell something was happening deep inside that gorgeous head.

As I kept spinning the ring, he tilted his head, and his expression softened even more. He looked at me with uncertainty, like asking for help. Both of us didn't know what was happening.

"Who?" He said it, with his voice sounding a little deeper than before. I looked him in the eyes before he broke eye contact.

The guy placed a hand on his chest, looking into the distance. He wasn't looking at anything in particular, and his face turned blank.

I was shocked yet aroused. He had a similar expression to all those handsome studs online when they went under, and I felt the ring heating up against my skin. It didn't hurt, but it was kind of unpleasant.

He took several deep breaths until he closed his eyes, leaning back against the sofa again.

"Are you okay?" I said, unsure of what was exactly happening to him, because it couldn't be caused by the ring, could it?

Carefully, I placed a hand on these thick thighs, but he didn't react at first; instead, he slowly opened his eyes after a few seconds, looking at me with vacant eyes and his mouth hanging open.

He looked soft and submissive, and I had to control myself not to let out a moan right here and then.

This was the exact expression I was seeing online in all those videos and pictures, but was he just messing with me? He and the other guy must be toying with me. This can't be real.

I contemplated just leaving, but something deep inside me told me to stop. The guy kept looking at me, waiting for something—perhaps orders.

My eyes shifted across his face and upper body as he wasn't moving an inch. That's when I noticed the cigar in his other hand.

"Do you mind?" I motioned for the cigar, and without any hesitation, he gave it to me and watched me as I started smoking.

I felt the hot smoke fill my lungs, and I just tested my luck. I blew smoke right into the guy's face, but, unbothered, he kept looking at me.

This made me cry right away. Fuck, he was so hot. I started to stroke his thighs gently, and he started to growl contently, even closing his eyes for a second.

If this was a joke, I admired his commitment. But what if it was real?

I looked at the still-shimmering ring and then back to the stud. He was breathing deeply, and I loved seeing his chest heave with every breath he took. I licked my lips while stroking his thighs.

"What's your name?" I asked him as I moved a little closer before putting the cigar into the ashtray.

"M..Matt." His now-rough voice barely came out as he struggled to think. He really was a mindless toy, just responding to me.

"I want to go home, Matt. Do you want to come?" I asked him, my voice breaking once more. I expected him to deny my request, but to my surprise, he just nodded.

I blinked a few times; I couldn't believe my luck. Was that ring actually working?

"Let's go then." I motioned toward the door and started to get up from the sofa.

He was a bit unsteady on his feet and needed my help to regain his composure again, but then he followed me closely. A few people watched us, but I don't care what they might have thought. I was going home with that little, empty jock boy.

Everything happened so fast, and I found myself on the road, with that beautiful specimen sitting beside me, watching me closely.

I felt my cock tent hard inside my jeans; I was surely already leaking just looking at this man. At every stop, every red light, I turned my head to find him looking at me: his eyes slightly unfocused, that muscly man with an empty mind.

I was still in disbelief—that ring—was it really the source of all this? Maybe, but that was something to figure out later.

Just then, the guy started to growl again, and when I turned my head, I found him stroking his own dick through his jeans. So fucking hot.

I felt the ring heating up around my finger—was it reading my mind? Hearing soft growls and moans, I couldn't help it. Instinctively, I stroked myself as well, just like all the times watching videos online.

A warm glow engulfed my stomach as he kept stroking himself while looking at me. I knew I couldn't wait any longer.

I took a turn toward the first empty parking lot, stopped the car, and tried to steady my breath. The car was filled with Matt's deep voice, growling and breathing deeply.

I bit my lower lip, and watching that stud get more and more into it made me harder than ever before. Subconsciously, I reached out and placed a hand on his chest. Right away, he moaned deeply.

His chest felt so good; all the hours he spent hitting the gym paid off as all of his muscles tensed hard against the fabric of his thin shirt. Just touching him made me nearly lose it.

Matt leaned his head back and closed his eyes for a few moments before staring into the distance again. He struggled to keep the door open, like a sleepy, horny jock boy. At the same time, he kept touching himself firmer and firmer.

My body was shaking, my dick was pulsating inside my jeans, and my breathing got even quicker. I hold back a giggle while intensifying my strokes. I observed how firm his pecs were and how they imprinted through his clothes as his entire body bulged more and more.

"Fuck." I moaned, playing with his hard nipple, when he suddenly turned his head toward me, smiling derpily. He was enjoying this just as much as I was.

"Let me see." I held back another long moan before I pulled his shirt up, taking a long, good look at his bare chest. Oh, fuck, was he hot? He was hairy as well, just the way I liked it. I ran a hand along his entire chest, through his pecs, and down to his treasure trail, and Matt was grunting under his breath like a puppy.

As I stroked him again and again, he smiled at me, completely unbothered. His skin felt so good, soft yet firm, and all of him reacted to the most gentle touch. His breathing quickened slightly, and Matt swallowed hard a few times.

He just purred happily and smiled, while my hand ran over his entire chest over and over again. His body was telling me about his excitement. His muscles grew harder, veins got more visible due to the tesnion building up inside him, and most importantly, his dick was standing at attention.

With one final stroke, I let my hand run down right to his crotch, and when I felt him for the first time, he left the tip of my cock. I tried to hold it back, but I just couldn't. I grabbed myself, trying to stop, but it just felt too good. Matt was still smiling with that lovely empty expression, and I felt that ring heating up once more. It didn't bother me; I was too busy fondling my new toy.

I tried to focus, but I could see my own cock move inside my pants. Turning away, I looked at the guy again, who was now drooling while moaning contently. In response, I groaned loudly, and my back bent away from the seat—my body held in so much pressure, and feeling this guy's massive cock made it much worse.

"Fuck." I growled deeply, and that's when Matt reached out to me. At first, I thought he snapped out of it or the spell was broken, but instead, he grabbed my hard cock as well and started to fondle with it, making it much harder to not cum already.

The ring was now burning my skin again, but that pain was nothing compared to the pure pleasure running through my veins.

Together, we unbuttoned my jeans, exposing my wet boxers, but he didn't hesitate. He tugged at my underwear—so eager, yet his expression was emotional. Still, it felt so good to be touched by him—his warm hands, his gentle touch—so good.

With a little help, he pulled my boxers down—the tip of my dick was clinging on to the wet fabric, fuck.

I looked at him again, and he was looking at me. I placed a hand on his cheek and stroked him; his skin was so soft, his beard well taken care of, and his lips were a dream come true. My hand ran through his hair as he kept purring.

Firmly, I grabbed his neck and pulled him closer, smelling him for the very first time. His cologne was thick, yet the smell of sweat was coming through more and more.

My eyes rolled back quickly before I regained my composure. He kept looking at me while I pushed him down, but, like a well-trained boy, Matt opened his mouth, swallowing my hard cock whole.

I could have cried out right then, but it was just the beginning.

That guy knew his way around a man's cock, using his tongue while sucking me off. Rhythmically, he moved his mouth while I encouraged him to go even deeper.

I never had this before: a hot guy willingly—more or less—sucking my cock. It was a sight to behold. It made my entire body heat up quickly, as I was edging myself on already.

I didn't know if I pushed too hard when he gagged, but it was alright. He steadied himself against my thighs while I leaned back contently.

Watching this handsome fella made me feel so good that I ran a hand through his nicely done hair. He really made sure to groom himself. Everything sat perfectly; that's why I wanted him so much.

"Thats alright. Good boy." I said—I loved when they said that in the videos.

And he reacted even better than expected: he groaned happily and his body shuddered. Such a good boy.

That's when I reached my limits. I pushed him further down as I shot my first load, then another, and another. I wanted him to take it all, and as expected, he didn't fight back.

As I was running dry, I released him, and he slowly, swaying back and forth, resumed his position.

He licked his lips; his eyes were foggy and unfocused, but his body was so excited.

"Good boy." I stroked his chest a few times and patted him. He smiled and leaned back as well.

For a second, I just sat there, thinking. "I should take him home." I thought so, but at first, I wanted to have some fun.

I encompassed his firm upper body again before I unbuttoned his jeans as well. His dick was tenting visibly, and I wanted to see it.

I pulled his enormous wet cock out of his underwear. I assumed he had a big dick, but it was even better than expected.

I moved my hand up and down his shaft, and he purred again while looking at me. 

Drooling heavily, he stained his clothes already, but it wouldn't stop.

"Let's get home, body." I stroked him again before I turned the key, and the engine roared to life.

On my way back home, I used every opportunity to fondle with his stick—he even leaked again, much to my amusement.

He watched me the whole time, smiling derpily and drooling. I knew he liked it.

From time to time, Matt let out several long groans, his body shifting slightly. I knew he wanted to cum so badly, but something was holding him back.

Back at home, still inside the car, I turned and found him looking at me pleadingly, and my breath quickened again. One of his hands was resting on his thighs, and the other was firmly stroking his meat.

"Fuck." I moaned looking at this man, craving my touch so much. So I wrapped my hand around his massive cock and moved it rhythmically.

Matt whimpered, and he let out a few moans of pleasure. He was so close already that he shot one massive load, spreading his cum all over his clothes.

At this time, his eyes rolled back, and an even wider smile spread across his lips.

That was when I came into my pants again—it just looked so hot. Matt was mine now; I owned him.

I looked at the ring, still shimmering, and took several deep breaths. Then I remembered what the guy online told me to share.

I got Matt dressed back up and wanted to take a picture. But I had a better idea.

I lifted my boy's shirt back up and snatched a picture. I never felt better in my entire life.

I wonder what the guy's going to say to Matt.

[kelin-is-writing]

Endeavor is not the only one to blame for ruining the family. Rei is equally to blame for ruining the family as well. She is a completely TERRIBLE and SHIT mother. Has done absolutely NOTHING for her kids. She neglected Dabi, Fuyumi and Natsuo. Willing to replace her own son by creating another kid. That fucked up. Had creepy disturbing thoughts against her own kids just coz they look like their father. Getting slapped is no fucking excuse to further neglect all of her kids by running away and abusing Shoto. As a mother she has no responsibility whatsoever. Rei is no victim. Rei is an abuser who got what she deserved. There's no point in complaining about Endeavor all the time but glorifying Rei. Both are equally bad parents. If you still don't realise that then please don't be a mom. #FuckRei #WorstMotherEver #KillRei

Okay, first of all how about you calm down? We don’t even know each others, but you come into my inbox asking for a not so civil discussion? Yooooo 😂😂😂

And you know what? Yes, Endeavor is entirely to blame actually because everything that happened is a consequence of his big ass man actions and yes, Rei wasn’t a good mother (Nobody said the contrary), but at least she tried unlike someone else who was way too self-absorbed to see anyone else aside from his egotistical self and his selfish goal.

“She neglected her kids”, Well of course she did! Every 2/3 business days she was busy popping out kids like a children machine and not being able to say anything back, otherwise her good-for-nothing and abusive “Husband” would beat her up and blame everything on her. Oh! What a coincidence! Just like how you did right now! Crazy, right? 😃

But what some of you peoples in this fandom fail miserably to grasp, because blinded way too much by whatever you see in Endeavor (or just because you guys like to Victim Blame), is that when the Himura’s sold her to Enji, Rei was prolly underage. Why underage? Easy. Enji is 45 when he’s introduced, while Touya is 24 right? 45-24= 21 and since ALL the married couples in Bnha have a 4 years gap (go check it on their Wikis mwah) and math isn’t an opinion: 21-4= 17 everyone! Wohoo. Right?

Rei was sold to the Todoroki’s when she was underage, but not only that… Enji has groomed her for years, then he started to spiral over greed, fame and power after he found out his child couldn’t achieve for him something that he can’t achieve on his own, because he’s a useless and self-centered beast.

Unlike him who is a whole ass adult when Touya is born, Rei is extremely young AND has become a mother for the very first time so without the guidance and the emotional support of someone who has already been a parent before her, I find it hard to for a woman to deal with both postpartum depression and rising a child alone the way she did at fucking 17 guys. And she has dealt with this over and over for four-freaking-times; Natsuo and Shoto’s ones were even worse because from the scenes alone (manga speaking) you can clearly tell Enji has forced himself on her for the last twos, furthermore Enji beats her up and from Fuyumi, Natsuo and Shoto’s reaction you can tell it wasn’t the first nor the last time since it has gone to the point where Rei was traumatized so bad that she started hallucinating of Enji’s gaze in her kids’ eyes made her have a mental breakdown. That’s how much he has abused her. All this because her husband was too focused on grooming first his wife and then his kids for the sake of a goal he didn’t have the balls to try reach by himself and projecting his insecurities on his family, because he isn’t enough of a man and pisses in his pants only at the mention of All Might’s name. I can’t take such a subject seriously, if I gotta be honest.

Mind you, this madness continued even after Touya’s death. It was during that arc, after she had dealt with four postpartum depression, depression, the pain of the knowledge that her husband has abused her mentally, physically and sexually and the death of her 13 years old son that everything went downhill for her; yet some of you guys act surprised when she had a mental breakdown? Rei had been in a constant state of brainstorming since Natsuo’s birth, if not even earlier, until she didn’t broke down completely after Touya’s passing. So yeah, maybe she wasn’t the best mother for the Todoroki siblings, but ever since she gave birth to Touya, Rei has been trying her best to be there for them and at the same time preserve her sanity. Because in a situation where she had to deal with four kids and a manchild, someone had to try and keep a semblance of balance in there even if she was one of Endeavor’s victims who’s mental health was being destroyed by a lot.

As I already said, some of you guys in this fandom lack a great amount of emotional intelligence and dare I say most of you lack depth too. I don’t expect you guys to be the most empathetic peoples in the world, really, I don’t, but this is a tad bit too much. Do you guys even try to look beyond your own noses anymore? Or has that gone out of fashion?

Also, what’s this new trend of Victim Blaming peoples who came out of an abusive environment? That’s so… Ambiguous…

Anyways! All this didn’t end for good until the whole of Japan found out his son is a Villain and he waited to beg for forgiveness (something he should’ve done sooner), only when everyone has been caught into the hurricane and almost got offed entirely as a family, which is (if you ask me, since you in my inbox) the most unattractive thing a man of his big ass age could ever do.

Everyone, stay away from peoples who lack accountability and self-awareness, because they’re going to play your mental health like a fidget spinner bubs 🫶🏻💜

Last but not least: if you want to talk this way to me and especially about such topics that bad, don’t do it on Anonymous because I will hardly take you seriously.

All this being said and cleared out of the way, hope you have a good evening 💜

[genderqueerdykes]

(tw: vent, relationship abuse, transphobia)

from 2020-2023, i was in a toxic relationship with a terf. she identified as a (still truscum-y) trans guy when we first got together, but about halfway through she detransitioned and pressured me to detransition as well. i identified as nonbinary at the time and i was scared of not listening to her, so i detransitioned because i thought i was being misogynistic if i didn’t. things just got worse, her transphobia got more radical, and we grew further apart, especially when i started questioning my identity again.

it’s been over a year since we broke up. i’ve started my transition as a trans man, i have her blocked on everything, but i still keep thinking about all the ways she hurt me. it feels like she’s winning. most sources i find on toxic relationships are really heteronormative and rely heavily on gender binaries, so they’ve been no help. do you have any advice on queer toxic relationships and/or unlearning internalized transphobia? thanks so much, no pressure to answer this if you don’t have the spoons

that's terrible, i'm so sorry you went through that. that's a long time to have to deal with someone pressuring you to change how you refer to yourself and how you see yourself. it's okay if someone needs to detransition but they should never force anyone else to just because transitioning like that was wrong for them. i'm so sorry she acted like she knew what was best for you. it's painful to watch someone fall down that rabbit hole and never come back. you want them to be kinder and to love themselves and everyone else, but it's just not the case

whenever people try to tell me that i "don't understand rad feminism", i point to experiences like yours. rad fems tell people that it's literally somehow "misogynistic" for trans men and mascs to transition. they tell people that that trans men and mascs are a danger to women. they tell people that trans men and mascs are confused and don't know any better. they tell trans men and mascs how to think, and they're doing it to everyone else, too. there's never a good reason to call someone misogynistic for transitioning

i would say maybe try to touch base with communities for transmasculine people and trans men. even if you meet a few people you like in the tags here, it's worth it. remind yourself that you weren't wrong, that person just thought she knew what was right for you. she saw something she hated in herself. it has nothing to do with how you should feel about yourself. you'll run into bumps and snags with how you feel about gender, especially your own. it's not a bad sign, it just takes time to get over the shitty things you were taught.

you can't dismantle it all at once, to take time, pace yourself. you were literally being groomed to hate yourself and other people. you need a moment before you can become proud of who you are. someone whittled you down until you were nearly nothing. that's not easy to move on from in a quick fashion. manhood is not evil. manhood is not what's hurting people. men are diverse. men are not a monolith. making blanket statements about men is profiling

i hope that helps some what, good luck, stay safe. i appreciate you for reaching out. it's not easy to deal with or move on from these kinds of things, but be as kind to yourself as you can. there's nothing wrong with transmanhood