#but again I just didn't care for how it was implemented

[bayetea]

a lot of people hate the hazel mist magic stuff and I won't deny that it was developed and implemented very weirdly but I actually really appreciate that it's partially connected to marie levesque who mind you summoned the lord of death/riches through her own powers. he didn't just meet her on the street and fall in love like other mortals parents she summoned a big three god to come directly to her (and then he fell for her afterwards). thusly it wasn't some late game add-on it was established very early in hoo that marie already had mystical powers of some kind based on new orleans gris-gris traditions and exploring that for hazel is pretty cool actually and makes sense! 👍

(also something something about frazel parallels where they both have special gifts that stem from their chinese/african heritage and not their godly fathers 😌)

for me the thing about it that sucks isn't that it's inherently bad or op as a lot of people seem to think (look me in the eyes and tell me that hazel is written on the page as more op than the likes of percy. rick limits her powers so much still even tho imo big three kids have a right to be op) it's that hazel's magic appears primarily tied to hecate and greek/roman mist magic instead of louisiana-haitian vodou influences (haitian vodou/louisiana voodoo are actual religions that have some key distinctions from each other, I'm just saying that rick could have drawn from either/both of them more when establishing hazel's powers). hecate mentioned marie explicitly when explaining why hazel has potential with magic but it's still pretty much all about nebulous greek/roman magic instead of new orleans-specific magic. let hazel levesque practice voodoo and cast hexes and work with spirits she deserves it (she is already a daughter of pluto so the connection to spirits should be there!!!)

[deepestnightcolor]

Oml I love your writing, I just binged all the Sam fics! I saw you take requests for Harvey 👀 any chance for a “confidential check up?”

Hello, dear anon!~ Thank you so much for both the compliment and request. This was my first time writing a full-blown Harvey fic - and I hope I did suffice :D

Thanks for your request, and thank you so much for your time and love! <3

ᴀ/ɴ: as I said, this is my first time writing a Harvey fic and I am still sick, so I hope it will suffice!!

PS: I hid two Easter eggs this time. >:)

PPS: maybe 2,5, one being a slight nod at @sashiavi >:))

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Harvey (SDV) x Fem!eader

ᴡᴄ: 4194 words

ᴍᴅɴɪ ✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: medical misconduct, unprotected sex, light nipple play, seductive reader, Harvey's a little insecure.

☾ ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ᴅᴏᴄᴛᴏʀ, ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴅʏ ☽

A secret that you'd never share? Simple and carnal, your secret was. Primitive, even. You had only made the appointment with Doctor Harvey to finally wrap the man around your finger.

You had tried it fair and square at first, you seriously had! Coming by whenever he had time, bringing him little gifts you were sure he'd like; trying to engage him in conversation.

However, Harvey always seemed so busy, so professional. Telling you to take care and stay healthy and giving you advice on how you achieve just that. Always looking out for you, always gentle in his words and behavior. And by Yoba, it made you want to break him even more.

Also, what better way was there to implement your plan than to catch the little lamb where it felt the safest and most confident? Of course, it was a little unfair, pretending you needed his help and skills to treat an injury, but then again you did. Just not in the way Harvey would expect. He had loads of chances to get the hint, but nothing had worked. Not even when you had fished out the shortest skirt possible out of your closet and wore it with a top that left barely anything to one's imagination, accidentally falling on your knees right in front of Harvey, showing off those lace panties of yours. No, that hadn't worked either. Harvey had let out a gasp that made you believe you had finally done something to him, just to rush to your side and ask if you were okay. If you needed help, if you were dizzy. Fuck did you want to cry out that you were dizzy for him, his touch. Instead, you gave him a sweet smile, fluttering your lashes at him as you told him no, you were fine. But thank you so much, Harvey!

You had scrambled to your feet and made your way back to the farm with your head hanging, and that was the point you decided it would probably need to be all or nothing.

“So, what brings you here today? Maru only noted that you requested to see me. I hope you didn't hurt yourself?” Harvey asked, scooting closer on his rolling chair. You were already propped up on the table, smiling sweetly at Harvey.

You had picked out an excellent outfit for the day, if you were allowed to say so. A blouse that was easy to open up and discard, and a skirt that seemed modest enough yet was nothing but of the mere purpose of covering up your lack of panties. And you were hurting. Terribly so, even. For him.

“Nono, Doc. I just, you know. I've been feeling some kind of way. Under the weather, you might say.” You leaned forward a bit now, running your fingers through your hair before twirling a strand around your finger. You were met with a pair of green-brown eyes, so full of consideration and empathy. It made you want to just sit on his face and make him spill all of his care onto your sweet pussy until you could feel it in every part of your body.

“I see! And how does that show? Do you have a headache? Do you feel more tired than usual?”

So sweet and caring, Doctor Harvey. Too cute to not bite.

You let out a sigh as if you were contemplating, biting around on your lower lip. “No, that's not it. I don't know how to describe it, it's…embarrassing.”

The doctor looked up at you again, putting away his notepad now. He gave you a sweet, genuine smile. A hand landed on your shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There’s absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about. This is a safe, confidential space; nothing will leave these walls.”

Go on, little lamb. Step right into the trap.

You leaned back a bit, pushing out your chest now. “Well, it's my chest. It's been so…so tender lately.”

A hum. That's all you got. A hum. Or so you thought. Because if you looked closely, you could see more. His moustache was twitching as his eyes flickered down to your breasts. Harvey was a professional, though. He quickly cleared his throat, nodding at you.

“Alright, I will glad- I would be happy- let's take a look, shall we?”

It took a lot from you to not break out in a grin; having the man break out in a stutter like that? It definitely was a step forward.

“Yes, please.” You needed to pretend to be innocent now - you didn't want to scare him away, after all.

Your fingers were quick to unbutton your shirt and your upper body was already bare before the doctor could even properly turn back to you. For a moment, his motions seemingly stuttered to a halt, his hands still clasped together from rubbing the disinfectant on them.

His moustache twitched again as he approached you, taking a seat on the chair again.

“Alright, my hands might be a little cold from the disinfectant, but I should be quick.”

Fuck, you hoped that he wouldn't be. You gave him a nod and what you hoped to be a shy smile, pushing your chest towards him a little.

And then, finally…Fucking finally you felt tender fingers on the soft skin of your breasts. It left you breathless for a moment, helpless as he traced the curves of your tits so expertly.

The moan falling from your lips really wasn't an accident, but Harvey, dear sweet Harvey, decided to let you off the hook. Ever the gentleman, wasn't he?

“Did that hurt?” He asked, his eyes flickering up to you, gently squeezing the flesh again. This time you looked straight into his eyes as you moaned, licking your lips. “No, it just…tingles,” you grinned, eyes following Harvey's dropping hands with dismay. 

“Well, I did not find any lumps or irritations that could explain the tenderness. Did any lifestyle changes happen? Or perhaps a new medication?” 

Pretending to be thinking, you swung your legs back and forth. One of your feet got in contact with his shin, slowly tracing upwards only to slide down again.

The man’s face was stoic, eyes trained on your face with a stern look. 

Yet again, the twitching of his moustache betrayed him.

The thought that you hadn't responded yet reeled you in a little: “No…Well. Maybe kind of? You know…I've been having, well. Thoughts about someone. Thoughts about them touching me, wanting me,” you began, your foot wandering to his knee.

“Could that be it?”

A blush had spread on his cheeks now, and Yoba did you love to see it. He picked up the notepad and quickly jotted something down, then nodded.

“I assume that could be it-”

“And what do I do about it, Doctor? It hurts, after all.”

Immediately, his attention is  back on you completely. “Hurts? Where?”

A vague pointing to your body made Harvey's hand reach out, touching your stomach. “Here?”

You shook your head, letting your foot wander down again. “Lower.”

His brows furrowed now and he let his hand slide towards your abdomen. “Here? Are they cramps?”

Again, you shook your head.

“Lower.”

He was hesitating now, looking up at you with an uncertainty you had never seen before, and it felt like another small victory.

“Could you…uh. Point me to where it hurts?”

Click - the trap was snapping shut.

It didn't need many words; you opened up your legs without an ounce of hesitation, revealing your cunt, all wet and ready for the doctor. “There.”

Harvey swallowed thickly, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find the words. Words that wouldn't have him lose his license. It wasn't like he hadn't seen genitals before - much more than one would expect from a small town like this - and he had never been affected. So why was his throat dry now? Why was his heart pounding like this?

“It's getting like this whenever I see handsome men like you, what could that be?”

“It’s getting like…what?” by now he was thankful that he was able to get some words out with his head feeling as light as it did right now.

“I dunno…wet?”

His eyes went straight back to your pussy, staring at it. You were wet. And you looked delicious. But he was a doctor. A professional. He had done so much to be where he was right now!

“Oh! That…uh. That…it- well. It stems from attraction. It's so..so sexual intercourse can happen more easily, you see. All natural. There's no need to worry at all.”

He was pulling back, this damn professional. Even though you could see that you were getting to him. “But…isn't there a remedy?”

Harvey wanted to just sink into the ground. His head still felt light, and he could feel his pants tighten - he had been mesmerized by you ever since you had introduced yourself. And of course, he had noticed your attempts to catch his attention - he wasn't stupid, after all. Yet Harvey had promised himself. Promised himself to not get too involved anymore. And now you were here. Exposed, and seemingly ready for him. So close but- he had to be strong. Be a doctor.

“Well, for one…You could do some self-care. Masturbation is quite healthy for the human body and mind.”

Like hell he'd recommend you to have sex with someone else, not even someone like him could be so professional. You called him handsome after all, for crying out loud!

“Oh! And…how does that work?” 

Your patience was running thin now, but you felt like you were so close to having him where you wanted him, despite him being so oblivious. His face was motionless now as he stared at you, Adam's apple bobbing up and down. He was obviously looking for words.

“I-”

“Come on, Doctor Harvey. You're supposed to help me, aren't you?” You cooed, interrupting the clouding thoughts before they could really rain on him.

“But- that is the thing. I am your Doctor-”

You didn't answer him right away, your hand wandering to your clit first, giving it a gentle flick.

“And what if you prescribed yourself to be my remedy? I think you're the only thing that can help me,” you moaned.

The groan coming from his direction certainly wasn't professional anymore. A hand, now warmer than before, settled on your thigh. “You said it hurts here?” 

Before you could look where his finger was pointing you could feel the pad of it trace through your wet folds. 

“Exactly,” you breathed, spreading your legs a little further. 

“I can't see much,” he murmured, his cock twitching painfully in his pants. “I'd need to clean you up first before I run some more tests...is that okay with you?”

The bobbing of your head was enough for Harvey to finally break down.

He leaned forward faster than he would have guessed from himself, his fingers spreading your folds, and by Yoba, you were wet. All the more reason to examine you closely, wasn’t it? Keeping you healthy wasn’t bad, after all. It was his job. And if that was what it took, he would oblige – for the sake of medicine, of course. Not because of his throbbing cock and the desperate need to taste you on his tongue; not because he was salivating from the thought alone.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth, a sliver of hesitation lingering in the air. He could see your hole contract when you thought him close, he could see the shivers making the muscles of your thighs twitch whenever his hot breath hit the wetness of your cunt, and yet…wasn’t this wrong? Had he somehow taken advantage of you?

“Harvey, fuck, please?” A small rock of your hips followed your words. Urging him closer. He could smell you now, and holy life, did you smell good. Lured him right into taking a deep whiff, as if he didn’t know he would get drunk on you immediately. Yet he did know and he willingly took another deep inhale. The impatient whine above him caused his eyes to flicker up to your face. You looked down at him, your lower lip tugged between your sets of pearly whites. No words needed to be spoken, and yet Harvey still followed your order.

His tongue slowly slipped out of his mouth; eyes glued to your face. He wanted to see how you would react to that first contact, wanted to see if you felt as hot as he did right now. His pants were really straining against his aching erection, his zipper pressing against the shaft through his boxers. He was pretty sure those were wet too by now, with all the pre-cum he had been leaking. He finally pressed the muscle against your entrance, licking a flat, thick line upwards. And he took his time doing it; so much so that it had your toes curl and your thighs close in around his head. The brunet was quick to react, though, one hand holding your leg open, while the other busied itself with spreading open your pussy for his hungry tongue. His licking had become faster now, but precise enough to avoid your clit. He was, after all, only cleaning you up now, wasn’t he? Still, that didn’t mean that his hot tongue licking up whatever you gave him didn’t make you moan for him. How long had you been thinking about this? Having Harvey between your legs, in any which way he would have offered? Too long. And now he finally had his head buried between your thighs, licking and sucking you up like a starved man offered a meal after ages of going hungry. His tongue licked up and down, from one side to the other, but he still ignored your hardening clit with apparently the same professionalism he had ignored your advances before.

He gave your lips a light suck, then sunk his tongue deep inside of you. A groan left his glistening lips, eyes shut tight while he lapped at your walls eagerly, trying to get as much of you as possible into his mouth. “Harvey, oh fuck, right there,” you breathed, hand flying in his hair to hold onto the strands between your fingers tightly, giving a tug that was harder than you had intended it to be. But that only seemed to spur the male on more, his face burying deeper, tongue and lips working in unison now. And by Yoba, he had never tasted anything this good; so sweet, so…you; and you were addictive.

Your hips bucked upwards for him, if to grant him easier access or just because you couldn’t keep them down anymore, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care, either. Harvey’s moustache rubbed against you in a way that made your head spin, his lips sucking on you while he circled his tongue within you made your whole body tense. Even when pussy-drunk he seemed incredibly precise, knowing just where to brush past, when to suck and when to lick.

 You weren’t able to do much anymore, just hold onto his hair and wait for the sweet, sweet release to wash over you and in turn, Harvey’s tongue.

It was close; you could feel it in the ripple down your spine, in the way you clenched around him, you could feel it in the pit of your stomach, too. You were dangerously close to the edge, and one well-placed flick would push you over. You were ready for it; the string of moans that left your lips were dirty, raw, carrying all the words you couldn’t form anymore.

You awaited the feeling of your orgasm crashing over you, not to suddenly feel empty and cold after being engulfed in the warmth of his mouth. But Harvey was standing now, his face wet and his glasses fogged up from the heat that had reached the cool surface, and yet you knew that he was staring right at you. You opened your mouth, but you didn’t trust your vocal cords just yet, so all you did was letting out a confused hum, to which the brunet in front of you smiled.

“You are all clean now- I believe you are ready for further tests.”

Fuck, you were. More than that. By now, you really felt an ache in your body, and the only remedy was there, right in front of you, fumbling with the buttons of his pants. His hands were shaking, enough so for you to lean forward, popping the button open for him. The doctor let out an awkward laugh, moustache twitching from the embarrassed rumble that went through him. “Sorry,” he whispered but quickly switched gears when you pressed a kiss to his lips. The taste of you mixed with his spit made you whimper, the appetite for him only growing within you. You wanted to help him tug down his boxers as well, but instead of fabric, you were met with the soft skin that had been hidden beneath until now. Your throat went dry; you just had to pull away and look at him. He was big, tip coated in a layer of pre-cum, his shaft girthy.

“Harvey, please,” you stammered, leaning back on the table so he could lean over you more easily.

The brunet followed you like a well-behaved lamb, leaning in again to kiss you. You could feel the tip of his dick against your entrance, slowly pushing forward. The stretch the head of his penis caused made your eyes roll back, excitement for the rest of his girth stretching you bubbling inside of you.

Harvey, ever the gentleman, took it slow. Rutting inside of you, centimetre after centimetre, eyes fixed on your face for any signs of pain and discomfort. He brushed your hair to the side to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how good you felt, how wet you were for him, and holy Yoba, did he ever feel anything like this before?

You had to admit, at first, the stretch did hurt a little, but with both him being so tender with you, so gentle, the pain quickly turned into a cloud of lust and despair. You wanted him, and you weren’t afraid to show him anymore. “Harvey, oh, for fuck’s sake, fuck me.”

A twitch, and then a shove that made him bottom out inside of you. A groan from him bled into the moan that tore from you, but that didn’t make Harvey pause. Not anymore.

His thrusts were shaky, unsure at first. He was just so adorable, wasn’t he? His eyes searched yours as if to ask for approval, as if to make sure he was doing this right, and it made your heart swell within your chest.

“You are so good to me, Harv,” you whispered, shamelessly letting your moans slip for him. The brunet’s eyes lit up, and he pushed his hips forward faster, more eagerly now.

Smiling to yourself, you let your head lull back. Harvey’s dick felt so good within you, filling you out with clumsy thrusts that steadied the more confidence he felt. Your back arched in as the brunet found a rhythm that seemingly fitted both your tastes; fast strokes that reached deep within you. The little grunts that left his slightly swollen hips only added fuel to the fire, only made you want him more.

Your legs hooked around his soft hips as he fucked into you with quick thrusts, body working with him to get him to go harder, more ruthless. Lucky for you, Harvey was a quick learner. Dick now fucking into you harder, red tip still pounding as deep as he could go.

The man’s face was a mix of pleasure and astonishment as if he wasn’t able to believe this was really happening to him. You just felt so damn good around him, walls clinging to his hot cock, sucking him off with each thrust. If he had a say in it, he would have never left your sweet pussy again, keeping his dick buried inside of you, thrusting into you whenever he deemed fit.

The moans and whines of his name that filled the examination room made his vision blur; his balls incredibly tight all of a sudden.

“Harveeey,” you gasped out, your hand reaching for his in an attempt to hold onto something again, fingers gently brushing along his knuckles before intertwining. The brunet above you was panting now, his hips never stilling as he fucked into you. His eyes, however, weren’t focused on your face anymore; they had fallen onto your tits that were bouncing oh so nicely for him with each of his thrusts. He just couldn’t help himself; it was too tempting – his head dipped down, teeth catching one of your pretty pink nipples, nibbling on it just to suck it into his mouth moments later.

You could feel the feeling start to grow inside of you again, your orgasm approaching you, even though you didn’t want this to stop yet. You didn’t want this to end just now, now that he was filling you up so perfectly, cock sliding against your squishy walls with such ease; you didn’t want his balls slapping against your wet cunt to stop just yet, you wanted, no, needed, more.

As if hearing your thoughts, Harvey picked up his pace just a little more, his mouth switching to the other nipple to pay it the same amount of attention. The squelching sound of the wetness between your legs was to die for, just like the feeling of his orgasm hot in his veins.

You just felt so deliciously good, better than any neat whiskey ever could have, and it made him go crazy. He felt hot, he felt like he was just about close enough to heaven to feel it, but not quite there. The bucking of his hips grew more desperate as he chased his orgasm, going hard and deep inside of you while his mouth busied itself leaving hickeys on your bouncing tits. The insecurity from before had vanished, and the groans, the begs, the whines, the praise, all coming from you was enough to keep it away.

“Harvey, I am- fuck, I am so close-“

He would have answered, had he been able to. But he had basically gone mute, aside from the whimpers and groans, as well as high-pitched moans that dared to tumble from his tongue. Instead, he just nodded at you and did his best to pick up the pace some more. It was just so hard with you sucking around him so nicely, drooling all over his dick. So hard to focus when he could feel you shake beneath him, making his body ache for the final push.

The bite to your tit he gave you, combined with his deepest thrust yet was enough for you. You squeezed his hand tightly, your toes curling and your back arching in as finally allowed the release to flow over you. You cried out his name, your sweet, pretty cunt spasming around poor Harvey, who was, admittedly, both absolutely pussy-drunk and empty-minded.

His breathing now came in forceful, laboured pushes, and if he had ever heard a patient breathe like that, he would have sent them straight to bed and run endless tests on them. But this – this was nothing but the sheer hunger for one person.

He suddenly slammed forward once more, his back arching in as he moaned out your name loudly, penis twitching as he came inside of you, cum painting your walls white. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to not lose focus, his mouth hanging open as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs were quivering with each thrust that sent shocks up your spine from the overstimulation that slowly started to nag at you.

Panting, the brunet tried to keep himself from crashing down on top of you, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes were still hazy as they took in your fucked-out expression. You looked ruined but also completely…satisfied.

Your hand was still shaky as you reached up to let it run down his flushed cheek, a smile on your lips. “That definitely helped, Harv,” you whispered, voice slightly more hoarse than it had been that morning.

Harvey cleared his throat, and after a moment or maybe two – maybe also three, he just felt so good inside of you – pulled out of you, shaky legs carrying him over to the sink where he wettened some paper towels to clean you up.

“I am glad I was able to help.”

Disappointment settled in your stomach. Was that it? Did he just go back to his professional self like the table beneath you wasn’t drenched in your wetness and his cum?

“But I need to run a few more tests. I think home visits would be best; I’d need different surfaces and times.”

Click. Two lambs had fallen for the trap

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stress Relief ~ MYG [M]

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

GENRE: SMUT MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BLOCKED! Established relationships, soft Yoongi having a bad day (This was supposed to go out back in October but I'd gotten this mixed with another member)

WARNINGS: smut, cursing, unprotected sex, free use kink (all consensual between partners!) small praise, “pretty little slut”

PAIRING: Yoongi x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - January 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You woke up to the feel of the bed shifting behind you before your neck was pampered with soft kisses, Yoongi’s hands ran over your body gently as he pulled you closer to him. You could tell just from the energy in the room that he was a little stressed out about something but before you could ask if everything was already Yoongi had already started speaking,

“Want you,” Yoongi grunted like a caveman as he began rolling up the nightshirt that you were sporting, your whole body burning as you let out a tiny giggle. The two of you had spoken a few weeks ago about a kink you wanted to explore and Yoongi was more than happy to indulge in it. 

In fact, it had been something the two of you took great joy in and Yoongi took full advantage of the opportunity whenever he could and each of you enjoyed it more than the other. You had no idea why but being "free use" for Yoongi made you giddy with excitement, not knowing when it was going to happen but being ready for him made it all exciting. Not to mention you were doing it with someone you trusted more than anyone else in the world, you had safe words and actions implemented in case either of you ever needed an out.

"Bad day?" You quizzed, it was already morning which meant Yoongi had more than likely been struggling at work all night long and was coming to use you to let his frustration out and the thought of that had you dripping for him.

"Don't want to talk about that," He mumbled as he began to pull himself free of his boxers, needily grinding himself against your ass like a dog in heat. 

"Need you," He whined out, not caring about how he sounded at that moment in time, all he cared about was getting to feel his girlfriend around him something he'd been craving for hours.

"You're so whiney baby, you want me to take control?" You teased before he pushed you forward slightly, bending you down while you were laid on your side.

"I want you to shut up and take my cock like the good little slut you are," Yoongi hooks his fingers on the waistband of your panties and pushes them down before throwing them behind him,

"God, you're so fucking hot." He groaned, a small and gentle slap landing on your left asscheek making you squeal out in surprise. Yoongi smirked to himself he'd been thinking of this all night, coming home and getting to use his pretty girlfriend to his heart's content. 

Yoongi pumped his length in his hand, grunting a little as he twitched he'd been needing you for hours now and he wasn't going to waste any more time so he pushed the head of his cock into you. Your whimper cut through the silence of your bedroom as Yoongi smirked. God, he always loved hearing you whimper like that for him, all for him too. You were his dream girl and he was lucky he got you when he did and he wasn't going to be a fool to let you go ever.

"Always so ready for me aren't you, baby girl?" He asked, reaching down and rubbing your clit with his thumb a curse word falling from your lips as you began bobbing your head up and down currently doing your best to buck your hips back to him. Desperate for more of him than just the tip that he was giving to you, but he tutted at you slapping your left asscheek gently once again,

"Now who's the needy one?" He grunts, pushing into you at an agonisingly slow pace as you let out a whine of his name, your pussy clenching around him as he let out a moan. It didn't matter how many times the two of you had sex it was always the perfect fit for him, he let himself revel in the feel of you as he let his hands roam over your breasts rubbing them softly.

"You always feel so good around me," He hummed in your ear before gently placing a kiss on your temple. As much as you adored when Yoongi was gentle and sweet with you, you needed an orgasm as much as he did and you needed him to move,

"F-Faster," You hissed out, even though Yoongi was supposed to be the one in control he wasn't going to ignore an order from his girl,

"Fcuk, Yoongi, feels so fucking good," You moaned out as he began to move in and out of you at an erratic pace, your eyes practically rolling to the back of your head,

"You like my cock baby?" He groans, thrusting harder into you as he holds onto your hips, skin slapping and filling the air as you cry his name out.

"You take it so fucking well don't you, my dirty little slut." He grunts as he looks down at you, his cock twitching as he tried to fight off the orgasm that was welling up inside of him but he could feel you. He could feel just how close you were from the way you tightened around him and the way your moans got quieter.

"Please...Please let me cum," You cried out, begging for your own release as he let out a growl. His hips slammed harder into you as he heard you begging for your own release.

"Cum on my cock," His fingers find your clit as he begins to rub small circles against it, your head rolling back against his chest rocking your hips in time with his.

"S-Shit! Shit!" You screamed out, your legs feeling like jelly as the tightness inside of your stomach snapped and you came around him. Hips bucking back as your whole body twitched, sending Yoongi over the edge right after you.

"I love you," He panted, pulling his cock free from you and looking down between your legs smirking proudly of himself.

"You're so pretty when you're stuffed full of my cum," He grunted, getting up from the bed and going to find a wet cloth to clean you up with.

"Want me to make some coffee and we can talk about work?" You quizzed as Yoongi sat between your legs, taking his time to gently clean you up as he shook his head at you.

"No, but stay in bed a little longer with me? I just want to cuddle you," He begged as you nodded, quickly making your way to the toilet before heading back to bed with him.

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[aethelwyneleigh27]

Ex-husband!Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 2

Part 1, Part 2, (Part 3??)

Part 1 was many months ago.. oopsie! Been doing a lot of reading recently and HOLY FUCK I LOVE THE TWISTED SERIES BY ANA HUANG. I JUST FINISHED IT, CAN'T WAIT TO READ THE KING OF SINS SERIES (btw I finished it a long time ago, this draft just never made it out). Do y'all like want some stuff implemented from there, here? I'M THINKING KING OF GREED? 👀

Also.. This was supposed to be my birthday special, but what happened was I became busy and never got around to making a definitive ending.. but don't worry, this isn't where the series ends.

My goodness the taglist on this one almost doubled, to anyone who doesn't want to be part of the tags, please tell me so that I can remove you because this will be the official list and it's still open for more people who wanna see this series.

Warning: Too lazy to proof read since I have so much to do, please tell me any autocorrected, misspelled words in the replies so I can change it.. 😭

My CoD Masterlist

My Simon Riley x You Playlist

Simon sulked, his forehead resting on the soft mattress. His back and neck were aching yet he couldn't get the fear and worry out his head. You clear the fog in your head, your body felt sore despite the semi-comfortable bed you were laying on.

You groan softly, forcing yourself to sit-up, where the fuck was your daughter? Was she safe? In a panic you looked around the room, you let out a long, deep sigh as you saw her laying on the couch. Long blond hair splayed around messily on the pillow with a blanket that was barely hanging onto her body, she looked so peaceful.

You felt movement next to you, Simon woke up. He looks up to you, in a bit of a shock. He didn't say a word before holding you and guiding you back down to lay on the slightly adjusted bed, back against the pillow he fixed behind you, you wanted to fight it and protest but his strength was god-like on your still weak and not well rested body, your throat was dry to the point of pain and obvious discomfort.

Simon knows you better than you know yourself, resentment settled in your blood, felt more than the amount than when you missed him. He took the tightly sealed water bottle on the table next to your bed and pries it open, holding the bottle's opening to your lips.

You took a big gulp with his guide but you gently took the bottle off his hand into your own, your fingers brushing his a bit in the process, basically telling him you could do it yourself. A few more gulps down and your throat was eased, you handed back the water bottle to Simon.

He was fidgeting with his hands, his fingers rubbing and grazing the spot your fingers accidentally touched. You looked down with dismay as he takes the bottle from you and closes it.

Was he so disgusted and revolted by your touch that he's brushing off his fingers from it? You knew you didn't end it good terms but you had no idea he hated you that much. Maybe not.. are you overthinking? Probably.

It was silent, awkward, just hearing the IV drip and the beeps of the heart monitor. Simon wanted to say something so bad but what do you say to the love of your life who you've hurt severely and regret it because you still love her and want to be in her life again? Mouthful, he knows.

Simon had no right to you anymore, he couldn't even scold you and tell you to take better care of yourself anymore because that's what he used to do, it's way too familiar. He couldn't even touch you without him thinking it would make you uncomfortable.

You feel it, rather see it more but Simon wanted to die in the moment. Heavy breaths and clearly restless eyes, disheveled hair..

"How do you feel..?" He said, he looks elsewhere as he wanted to avoid the way your eyes chose to settle on him..

"I don't know..? I don't know how to process all this but there's no physical pain, just nausea.." you said, he got up to call a nurse and alert them that you're awake. He chose to step out while the doctor did the regular routine of checking everything.

"Momma?" You turn to your left at the couch where your daughter was sat up, rubbing her eyes.. she got off it and immediately ran to you, "I'm glad you're okay now.." she said which never failed to make you smile with how caring she tended to be..

"What happened bubs? Momma doesn't remember much except for fainting.." you asked the bundle of joy as you tried to piece back what had happened beforehand..

"I called dada when you fell, momma. I was so scared, I was shouting but you won't wake up.. dada took so long to get there but when he did, he asked me to go in the car while carried you inside to take you here.." she said, you took her off the ground and placed her at your side, embracing her little body.

"I'm sorry bubs, momma should've taken better care of herself.. if I had, I wouldn't have been so sick to the point of unconsciousness.." you felt so guilty, if only it had been under better circumstance then you would've been able to take care of yourself better and not put your child through what must've been a moment that should've set her in a panic.

"It's okay, momma. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of you like you take care of me.." her sweet little voice paused for a moment.

"Momma, what does unconscious mean?" She asked, you laughed, forgetting that she doesn't know the meaning of certain words yet..

Taglist: @wishesforyou @puff0o0 @simping4konig @simp4konig @blingblong55 @azereus @rustic-guitar-notes @callsignsnowpunisher @09maruchan @anonymuslydumb @skeletalgoats @icarustypicalfall @connorsui @capuccino192 @miss-gms-and-the-rotten-womb @celestialhole @the-second-sage @starryylies @everlastingmoonlightsworld @keiva1000 @iexiam @drewsmusee @konigceo @duck-a-doodle @darkhorrorwhispers @cyphah @ash-tarte @linaangel @waves-against-a-cliff @fruitymoonbeams-blog @venussdovess @mactavishsgfandwife @thisisaphrodite @holyfeck @avalkyrieofparis @mymelx @ssc7514 @lilaclazer @fandomwarrior98 @spontaneousleo

[iongsiyi]

mulan: the best disney character ever made

okay, i may be in a disney phase right now. but as a fellow asian, there is no way i'm going to talk about disney princesses without mentioning the best disney princess (character) disney has ever made - mulan.

originally a legendary chinese folk heroine from the northern dynasty era in chinese history. the disney adaptation of mulan is somewhat similar, only difference is that she had siblings in the original folklore, and she had to go to war because her brother was too young and her father was too old, and at the end, she revealed her identity only after returning home.

let's face it, the fact that a disney princess went to war made her stand out from the rest of the lineup. let's go over a few badass facts about her in the movie: 1. she wasn't going to give up because she did bad in training. her perseverance and determination led to her trying over and over, pulling herself up that pole that literally no other men in the army could do. she's unbending, not willing to give up without putting up a fight, and she not only proved to li shang and her peers that she's not weak, she proved to herself after all that self-doubt that she's just as capable as anyone else, more than anyone else if anything. 2. the fucking avalanche scene. the fact that she was smart enough, quick-witted enough to plot that within seconds with her enemy right in front of her, clearly using her brain for a good cause to save her entire army which consisted of about 50 people against thousands of huns. war is about tactics, and she demonstrated just that. she also ignored the pain of her wound to pull li shang up from the snow just shows her loyalty to her troops. 3. even after being thrown out of her army in the middle of the mountains full of snow, seeing the huns rising from the snow, she knew she gotta alert li shang that they were coming. despite li shang not believing her (or tried to ignore her), she tried her best to come up with ways in attempt to save her country from potentially being invaded. at that moment, she didn't care about the fact that she literally lost her dignity in front of everyone, she only cared about her country, her homeland, and that just shows how selfless she is.

4. the last scene was probably the most badass out of the entire movie. again, plotting a scheme within minutes in attempt to save the emperor, coming up with ways to get into the palace, get into the emperor's room, and revealing her identity as ping to shan yu to save li shang again. best part was, the only weapon she had in her hand was a fan, it not only symbolized her identity as a female, but also the fact that she was a female in the army. (fucking pulling the sword out of the fan was so badass i need to insert the gif here)

everything about that scene was perfect. it wasn't entirely serious, some ridiculous humor was implemented there and there, but also allowed for one final demonstration of how strong mulan is, not physically, but mentally.

5. actually, this last one might be the most badass. she didn't bring honor to her family (and herself) by marrying a man, starting a family like what the society expected her to, she earned a standing ovation, a collective bow from the entire country of china and the emperor with her own hands. best part? she didn't care about the honor, she didn't care about the fact that she was offered a position in the council as a female, she only cared about her family, her father. love was what made her strong. gracefulness, bravery, loyalty, and intelligence are just a few of her qualities. not only was the character full of great qualities, her imperfections were also shown, her stubbornness and clumsiness. it felt as though she was a real human because of her merits and faults, and her character development throughout the movie never ceases to amaze me.

again, i don't want to go on forever about this, but one thing will never change - mulan will always be my favorite fictional character ever created.

my little baby is all grown up and ... and savin' china

[angiesmagicspace]

Reversed roles

“Ooh, tell me why, tell me why do I feel so free when I'm dead?

Oh, when I'm tied on to your short leash”

Pairing: husband Seungcheol x wife reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: slight BDSM themes, DOM Cheol, sub-femme reader, tying up, edging, teasing, overstimulation, etc.

Summary: Her job requires her to take on the leading role, but the roles become very different when she enters her home.

A/N: Back from the dead, uni is really kicking my ass. But I hope you like this. Tell me your thoughts

Masterlist

Asks are open

Being in charge was a part of your personality. Everything from your personal life to your work life needed to be perfect. Ever since you were promised a leading position in your dad's company, you aimed to be the best in everything you did. The control you had was fueling you to achieve greater things in life. Sometimes people would try to be snarky and comment how you must drive your partners crazy with the amount of control. But they didn't know that they were far away from the truth.

Your husband Seungcheol is your favorite person in the entire world. Ever since you met him during one of many company dinners, you were so in love. He truly was the best thing to happen to you. He is truly the cherry on top for you. People would often comment how you two compliment each other so well, and you couldn't agree more. What they didn't know was that you two compliment each other on so many levels that it's almost embarrassing to admit. He is the ying to your yang, the moon to your sun, the missing piece of your puzzle. Every time you hug him, you feel like you successfully found your other half. 

He is the one who helps you switch from your role of the leader to the role you enjoy a little more. Being his submissive was your favorite thing of every day. This dynamic between you two felt so natural. From the very first time you were intimate, the roles were just implemented like they were agreed before. He held the reins in his hand, and you were just there to take everything he gave you. Even when you were restrained, it felt free to have him make all the decisions and control your pain and your pleasure.

Once again, you are on your way home from a very tiring and stressful day at the company. But just the thought of coming back home to your husband was exciting you to no end. All that stress will be forgotten the moment you kneel in front of him, and he puts your collar on you.

“I'm home,” you yell while closing the door behind you, already smelling your husband's perfume in the air, making your insides tingle. The moment you spotted him sprawled on the couch, you felt the excitement rush through you. He looked ethereal, so buff yet soft to the touch, he truly looked like a deity sent from the goods to reward you. “Oh, kitten finally. I have been waiting for so long,” he jumped up, spreading his arms so you could just bury your head in his chest. Hugging you tightly, he kissed the top of your head, giving you just the comfort you needed today. “Do you want me to make some dinner or order something?” he asked, still embracing you tightly against his chest. “No, thanks, baby. I already ate something, but there is something I want more.” you pulled away just enough so you could look him in the eyes. He just arched his brow, waiting for you to tell him your wishes. “I want you to take care of me,” the moment those words left your mouth he knew what you required the most.

Without any words, he scooped you up in his arms and walked to your bedroom. He let you down on the bed and went to close the door, while you took off all of your clothes, leaving only your panties and bra. Lowering yourself on the cushion in front of the full-length mirror, you slowly let go of all the stress. What made you relax entirely was the feeling of your collar being put on by your husband. His strong hands felt so gentle while he was putting the pink satin around your neck. From this moment it was only him in your world, nothing else mattered besides his commands and rules.

“Now kitten, you know the rules. What I say goes, you only speak when spoken to, and you aren't allowed to do anything without my approval. Am I clear?” his tone was lower than usual, but that is how he speaks when he is in the role of your dominant. You looked up at him, already in bliss. “Yes, sir” Your words felt so soft to his ears, oh he loves you so much. “Get on the bed, laying on your back. I want to see all of you,” his instructions were always stern, and your body moved on its own there was no reason to rebel against your husband. Sprawled on the bed, you were waiting for his next move. He collected something from your closet and came back. Slowly, he took off your lingerie, which meant that you would soon be tied up. “I am going to tie you up for now, if you behave I might let you touch me.” every step he always explained, his dominance didn't always mean pain, most of the time it meant caring for you in a way no one couldn't. Silk ropes wrapped around your ankles and hands, restraining you just enough so you won't be able to touch him or move too far.

Firstly, his hands found their way to your chest, massaging your boobs, pulling on your nipples, and stroking them in a circular motion. He set his focus on them, knowing that it will get you going in no time. Your nipples are very sensitive and some days he could make you cum just by sucking on them. Low moans left your mouth while he focused on your neck, giving you small hickeys here and there just to make a small reminder of whom you belong to. Your whimpers became louder by the second, and he knew that if he didn't move his hands now you would be cumming in no time, which wasn't his plan. His hands moved down to your hips, one hand staying there and the other moving further down so he could gently palm your pussy.

His fingers moved softly over your slit, collecting your wetness very audibly. Every stroke of his fingers made you squirm, he was so close to where you needed him, but he didn't do what you needed him to do. Quiet whimpers and pleas left your mouth, but they fell on deaf ears, now wasn't the time for you to choose. “Quiet kitten, you will get what you require when I decide it,” the tips of his fingers found your clit, massaging in a circular motion. Every touch was more intense than the previous. You were so close, already feeling your orgasm nearing, but your hope didn't last very long when you felt Seungcheol remove his hand from your pussy. Making you even more desperate than you were already. He continued doing this for some time, bringing you so close to your release and then removing his fingers immediately.

“Oh, look at you kitten. So desperate that you would cry for an orgasm. I am cruel to you, aren't I?” nodding your head, you felt his dick rubbing against your entrance. By this point, you were crying, whining, begging for any sort of release. It was torture, but you needed more than he could imagine. Carefully, he slipped inside you, stretching your tight walls with his big dick. It felt amazing, the stretch always burned slightly, but you knew that his size was to blame for that. He slowly trusted inside of you, building his pace very carefully so you wouldn't cum just yet. “Is this what you wanted? Sir to take care of you and pleasure this little pussy of yours, hm” his breathing was heavier, he truly loved being inside of you there was no better place for his dick than your pussy. He craved it every day, he worshiped it every time he got down on his knees, it was his favorite meal. 

With every thrust, you were closer to reaching your orgasm, and he knew that. Positioning the tip of his dick right on your g spot, feeling your walls flutter against him. You were ready to cum, and he would make sure that it was the best orgasm ever. Thrusting faster, he felt himself also getting closer, but that wasn't important right now. Just as you were seconds away from cumming, he pulled out. 

You were ready to scream and beg, but that's when you felt his fingers enter your pussy. Moving in and out at brutal speed, hitting your g spot every time. And that's when you felt it, reaching your orgasm felt like heaven. Arching your back, you pushed yourself harder on his fingers, and he gladly let you. Slowly coming down from your high, you looked at Seungcheol, while he admired you. “Kitten, I knew you had it in you, squirting on my hand like this. Almost had me cumming without any stimulation.” he softly spoke, and that's when you realized that the sheets beneath you were soaked.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you for making me feel so good.” whispering, you tried to thank him the best you could. He just hugged you while untying the ropes from your hands. “Thank you, kitten, for trusting me.” lifting yourself, kissing his shoulder as thank you, feeling deeply relieved from everything that happened today.

“Sir, could I do something for you?” even though you felt spent from your orgasm, you still craved the feeling of his fat dick on your tongue. “Only if you want to, kitten. I don't want to pressure you.” you knew that he didn't need you to do it, but it was for your pleasure anyway. You lowered yourself down, licking the tip of his dick. Sucking him, hollowing your cheeks, it almost felt better than cumming yourself. He made himself comfortable against the headboard, admiring you and the stained sheets behind you. You bobbed your head up and down, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. It truly felt amazing to have you like this. Seungcheol couldn't last very long, the whole sight in front of him was too much to handle. Soon you felt his warm seed hit the back of your throat.

He lifted you, embracing you in a hug. You stayed like that for some time before he transferred you to the bathroom to wash you and cuddle you some more.

[lorelune]

braised

|| blade x reader || M || captive reader x necrobiome blade || wc: 3.2k  || ao3 || previous + next ->

The Stellaron Hunters and their newest prize settle in and find routine.

minors, antis, and ageless blogs dni

a/n: HELLO >:3c this lil story has me gripped!! this piece is meant to be read after "scrap metal" but can be read as a standalone. mind the tags and enjoy 💕

CW: dark content, captive/pet reader, violence, implied/partially depicted physical abuse, force-feeding, general talk about food and eating, thoughts of violence toward the reader

"They didn't eat again."

Silver Wolf tosses the metal bowl on the counter with a frown. It’s full, heaped with eggs, kixi wafers, and some yogurt-based sauce. It’s untouched, sauce gelatinized from being out in the open air.

Kafka clicks her tongue from the cockpit, pausing her scrolling. Her gaze flicks up, "Not a bite?"

"Nope." Silver Wolf frowns and fidgets. "They didn't even look at me when I gave them their lunch either."

"They haven't eaten since the day before yesterday then. That’s no good." Kafka sounds concerned, but there's an edge to it.

Blade feels antsy. Out of his skin. He doesn't know why.

“They haven’t been drinking much either.” Silver Wolf frowns. “They’ll shrivel up and die at this rate." 

Kafka nods, "That’s more than likely their intention, even if it's a long and foolish way to die. That’s a shame. I thought they'd be better than this."

Blade drums his stiff fingers over the hilt of Shard Sword. He hardly remembers summoning it. 

"Bladie, dear? Try and convince them to have a bite or two tonight." Kafka's attention almost drifts back to her phone before she meets his eyes. Her own are clear, pupils intact. "Be careful, though. Hungry pets will still bite the hand that feeds them."

Blade doesn't reply with anything other than a jerky nod. He ferries himself across the ship to a padded training room and shreds two dozen practice dummies until they're nothing more than piles of polymer leather and filler.

...

Kafka had implemented a rotation. A 'feeding schedule' to acclimate you to your new environment, and get you used to your new comrades. You’re pricklier than she originally anticipated, but she doesn't seem concerned.

(If anything, she seems... delighted. She has a spring to her step that she usually doesn't. She leaves your room glowing.)

It’s Blade's turn to bring you dinner. Your meal is piled into the same metal bowl. Heaps of rice, covered in a sticky sauce with chunks of meat and veg. It’s still steaming as he walks silently to your cell— room. cell. He's not sure.

He undoes each lock (seven) and enters your room without any announcement.

The room is... less destroyed than it was yesterday. When Blade brought you lunch the day before, your mattress had been dragged onto the floor, sheets torn to shreds and spread around the room. You’d thrown a book at his head when he'd entered.

(Which he caught and gave back to you. You looked terrified when he got at all close to you.)

Blade didn’t like it. And he isn't sure why.

Today, you're less frantic. Instead, you’re balled up on your mattress, tucked in a corner with your knees up. Your head is down. You only flinch when Blade enters, but don't regard him otherwise.

Blade's frown deepens.

"Dinner," he says, and sets the food on your nightstand. Kafka has replaced the diffuser you broke the day prior. A new one pumps out an herbal-scented mist. "Eat it."

"Just leave it,” you reply, voice scratchy and raw. You rarely speak to him.

"No. Eat it now."

"I will later."

"You won't. You aren't eating."

"And what's it to you?" You unfurl just a fraction and shoot him a glare. It’s angry. vitriolic and guarded. (But a scared stray will bear its teeth and bite, won't they?)

(What is it to Blade? Other than Kafka's order. There’s something there. There has been something there since he saw you muzzled and dead-eyed, and Blade's always half-aware of it. How it refracts and shudders and fills him with such intense unease. He knows the feeling— recognizes it like the scent of an old lover. But he does not like it. It does not feel like it is his.)

He’s struck with the particular urge to throw you against a wall and watch your skull splatter against the metal paneling.

He doesn't. Because his mara isn't that uncontrollable, not now anyway. Instead, he frowns at your scowl.

"You'll die if you don't eat."

"Ah, and if I die, you'll lose an asset, right? I'm not stupid, I know how these things work." You sound... almost petulant. Blade does not know how to approach you, or it, or this attitude.

"You'll die. You shouldn't die. You should eat and live."

"Fuck you." You snap at him, fist balling up in the sheets at your side. You've picked your nails short and raw. "Fuck you."

Blade doesn't know what to do.

He pushes the bowl closer to you on the nightstand before departing.

Kafka catches him as he heads to the training rooms (again, because he needs to shatter a few holograms with his bare fists if he wants to feel close to sane in the next few hours.)

"Any luck, lovely?" Kafka's expression is kind. She must already know.

"No."

Kafka sighs, and shakes her head. "I'll take care of it, Bladie. I suppose we’ll have to do things the hard way.”

...

Kafka is the one to bring you breakfast the next morning. Blade does not normally keep track of Kafka's morning routine, because she is insane, but considering it involves you, he's more keen to it. Kafka prepares a light breakfast of garlic and shash rice, and secondarily, a shake of greens and nutrient powder.

(He... he thinks he knows the substance. Recognizes the acrid, must-driven smell of it, and remembers how awful it tastes. Like bile mixed with metal shavings. Who knows where Kafka acquires it from. He has smudged out memories of choking it down when Kafka first pulled him out of a crater, covered in blood and scarred— but not dead. Never. Never, never dead— )

Blade fractiously goes to your room and waits outside your door. Kafka is still inside when he arrives, speaking to you in that sweet, syrupy tone that drips into muscle and bone like molten metal.

"You need to eat, darling."

"Fuck you—"

"The more you fight, the harder this will be. Why don't you be good and let me help?"

"Don’t fucking touch me—!"

There’s the muffled sound of a struggle, which Blade assumes isn’t much of a struggle because Kafka is far stronger than she looks. Blade leans against the wall, next to your door. He can feel vibrations of a fight in the soles of his shoes through the floor. The thump of a body hitting the wall echoes.

Blade hears crying. You’re crying.

"Oh, tears? I’ve hardly done anything."

"You’re fucking monsters. Just let me go—!"

"You know that won't happen. Play nice.”

"Don't—!"

You sob, probably, and there's another sharp sound of flesh on steel. Blade would've flinched if he wasn’t an abomination.

"Let me take care of you, sweetheart. The sooner you give in, the easier this is. This doesn't need to be difficult."

"Get off of me—!"

More struggling. Blade closes his eyes and tries to imagine it. Kafka is ruthless in getting what she wants. She knows how to pry people apart, pick at their inside, and pull strings until they fracture. It is why Elio is such a fan of hers. It is why Blade keeps her close, as she knows the delicate, bowstring dance of keeping his mara in check.

He wonders what Kafka sees in you.

(He wonders what he sees in you. You're nothing like— like— who? Who are you so different from?)

Blade has a headache.

The sounds echoing from your room dissolve into muffled sobs and the occasional sharp cough. A gag. Inhaling and what must be your fist beating against the metallic paneling of the floor. He hears Kafka hush you, over and over. Quietly praising you after each gag and retch.

Blade's not sure how long it goes on before things feel still and quiet.

The sound of a kiss, audible, "See, that wasn't so hard, was it?"

"... F-fuck you.

"Such a filthy mouth. Do you need me to wash your mouth out with soap? I'm happy too."

"Wait, don’t— no—“

Blade realizes his shoulders have hiked up. He forces them to lower. You scream and fight just feet away, really. All that separates you is seven locks.

Kafka seems to be handling things. The sounds continues, and become dull background noise. Shouts and pants fade into his thoughts as they get sap-sticky.

(Someone beloved, something far away. Bitter liquor on each other’s lips. Blade can’t recall the name.)

(A comet with a tail burning yellow. It is cold. A blade, driven into his chest. A blade stabbed into his eye. A blade put sidelong through his skull. A blade splitting his throat. Cold, cold, cold, cold.)

(Do you know cold? Do you know how frostbite turns flesh black? Do you know necrosis? What pain do you know?)

Blade, startlingly, does not want you to know pain. He wants you to eat your meals.

Kafka exits, almost startling him. She does not look surprised to see him hovering. She rearms the locks and glances at him from the corner of her eye.

“Down, loverboy. A scared dog will bite.”

“Do not call me that.” 

"Alright, alright,” she laughs and her grin grows sharper. “I’ll be taking care of their meals for the next few days. Listen, grab a medkit, the poor thing needs it. Though, I’ll let them hurt for a while first.”

Kafka walks off, and Blade follows at her heels. There are indentations in Kafka's gloves-- half-moon bite marks of teeth.

He decides he is going to break his own fingers, maybe. He can watch them heal back into place.

It’s meditative.

...

Several days pass with your ‘new routine’. Kafka handles each meal. Blade stays away from your room. The entire wing you’re located in feels nuclear. He stays in the training room. Throws himself at matted walls until his shoulders dislocate, only to pop them back into place to repeat the cycle.

He makes a point to check the kitchen after each of your meal times. There’s always an empty dish, a clean plate. A chunky-looking film left on a glass in the sink. Kafka is diligent, Blade doesn’t doubt this. 

The whole thing fills him with unease.

He asks Kafka to wipe his memory, but she denies him. She’s in the cockpit, swiveling in her seat.

“You don’t need that yet, Bladie. Give it some time.”

“But—”

“Discomfort isn’t mara suffocation, dear.”

“You’re patronizing me.”

She sizes him up, sighing, “Listen to me, keep it together. You’re alright. How about this, you can feed your pet starting tomorrow for lunch. Would that make you feel better?”

It would. He’s not sure why.”

“It would.”

Kafka looks pleased with the outcome of the conversation. She tells Blade to get some rest, pats his cheek, which does take the edge off the mara rooting around in his psyche for purchase. 

Blade takes a long route through the ship to his chambers. A deliberate path that brings him in front of your door. He doesn’t dare to enter, only listen. It’s late, you could be sleeping given the hour— but Blade can hear you shuffling around. Grumbling to yourself. One of your feet is dragging on the floor as you walk. Blade wonders how it was injured. 

He departs after hearing the shifting of your sheets, and the light under your door goes out.

(He feels insane. Insane in a way that isn’t mara-ridden, which is more terrifying. He knows the gnawing beast of Abundance that crawls around inside his skull and bones, he doesn’t know madness that has burrowed itself between his ribs. It feels light, like the carbonation bubbles in the bottled soda back on the Luofu. His palms sweat when he becomes aware of it with each thought of you.)

(Maybe he’ll try tearing out his organs again. That could fix it.)

Blade returns to his room and paces, before stripping and climbing into bed.

It’s only when he’s half-asleep that he realizes he’s hard.

He’s not sure why. 

...

Lunch is some takeout. It scalds his hands through the bowl he heaps it into. Braised trelk ribs with scallion and carrot, ladled over a bed of chewy-looking noodles.

"Bladie," Kafka tells him from the cockpit. She glances at him with a curling smile. "Be careful, they're sensitive."

Blade does not know how to be... careful. Not like how Kafka is implying he thinks anyway.

Silver Wolf snorts from her seat, speaking through a bite of noodle, "You’re asking a human-shaped hydrokenia bomb to be 'careful'?"

"Blade's a good boy, I'm sure he'll do great." Kafka's eyes are that spatial, nebula magenta. He feels pleasantly high when she looks at him. "Won’t you?"

"Yes."

Kafka looks pleased, "Listen, take your meal too. Eating with them will get them comfortable."

Silver Wolf raises an eyebrow, "Is that really a good idea?"

"I think so. Blade can handle it if they get testy."

She looks at him with a grin that's collapsed empires and immolated planets. Blade leaves the room with two bowls in his hands.

When he arrives at your cell— room. It's your room. He unlocks the locks methodically and enters without a greeting.

Today, you are not tucked in the corner of your bed. You’re instead perched in the rounded window, gazing at the starscape. Your knees are raised, and your arms are wrapped around yourself. You look small and defeated, eyes darkened and downcast. Blade watches you rub your shoulders.

You look up when he enters. Blade sets the bowl on the ledge next to you, and sets a pair of chopsticks on top, "You will eat."

It's not a command, but a statement of fact.

You scowl, looking so angry. Alive with it. He recognizes vitriol so easily. It's in your eyes and in the way you bare your teeth at him, ready to strike. Maybe you'll bite down on him, into him, until you taste blood. Blade's sure you wouldn't leave a scar— he heals too quickly from the types of flesh wounds to give him a lasting mark.

(There's something enticing about you trying. Blade does not know the floating, filmy part of himself that suggests such a desire.)

You carry Kafka's mark. There are bruises around your throat, the clear shape of hands. There are lumps across your jaw, darkened in color. Scratches of nails over your neck, down to your collarbones. Your eyes are red-rimmed. Your lip is split, barely scabbed over. You're shaking.

You open your mouth, ready to snap. Maybe you'll spit venom— Blade doesn't know your species. You could.

(Blade remembers your expression on different faces from the glitter of your canines. It reminds him— of—? Jingliu was colder. Frigid in her rage. Dan Feng was always so calm with his, Only shattered near the end, like a tide that swelled too high on the shore to swallow the world whole. Your expression is white-hot, like metal pulled fresh from a stoked forge. Desperation and terror make dull teeth sharp. Actions become erratic and desperate.)

(Blade has not remembered so much, so clearly in a long time. He really needs Kafka to wipe his memory again.)

The mara in him writhes. It’s a necrosis, a vitality that has long since sank into his marrow and will not leave. It rolls through him. Blades tips back his head and rolls his shoulders. There's a high to it, followed by an immediate and tumbling withdrawal and dread and clarity—

And it's all interrupted by the little gasp you make. The abrupt jolt you take backward, into the window, closer to the depths of deep space. Your body thumps against the glass. 

('Fragile', Kafka had said.)

Your mouth closes, and your bloody lower lip wobbles. Tears glitter on your lash line as you retreat. Maybe, Kafka broke you. She’s good at that. 

"Fucking— I-I mean, fine. I’ll fucking eat." You stumble over your words with a sniffle. Your voice is raw and strained. You rub your nose on your sleeve and scramble for the bowl and utensils.

Blade stares as you eat your first bite. Then your second. Followed by your third. You start crying after the fourth, sobbing with the fifth, and hiccupping between mouthfuls. You're eating too fast, occasionally looking at him with an expression he recognizes as terror. He's used to seeing a look like that at the end of his blade. Frozen before draining of blood and death.

He frowns. You should not look that way..

"Slow down," he says, sitting next to you.

You look at him and wipe over your mouth, lips parting, but seem to think better of speaking. You take another bite, chewing slower. Blade picks up his own bowl and eats small, meticulous bites.

(He shared a meal all the time. Shoulder to shoulder with Dan Feng, splitting casks of viridian wine in the moonlight. Food tastes better when someone you... like is near.)

You finish before him, and don't stop crying. If anything, you cry harder. It sounds painful.

Blade pauses his meal, idling. searching. There's something there. A feeling coated in the roots of mara, but... perhaps it's a delicious agony. Not so much a memory, but a want. Something other than— than what and why—

Blade stands. He departs to your bathroom (there are blood stains on the counter) and grabs a cloth towel. He dampens it with water, letting the sink run until it's pleasantly warm.

He sits closer to you when he returns. You flinch away in retreat, leer away as he comes close, hands up—

"Please, don't, what are you—"

"Hold still." Blade grabs your wrist and you wince.

With entirely conscious thought and great effort, he loosens his grip. And... gently, Blade brings the cloth to your face. He dabs around your eyes, then your cheek and nose, and lastly your mouth. you're frozen, wide-eyed, and still shaking.

When he's done, he grabs a blanket from the bed. He wraps it around your shoulders. It feels... somewhat right.

"You should rest." He tells you. "You need it."

Blade thumbs over a swollen round on your jaw. You tremble, eyes wide.

But maybe a little less scared.

"... Are you gonna stay while you finish eating?" You eye his half-full bowl.

"Yes."

"... 'kay... and you're not gonna rough me up like Kafka did?"

"No." He has no plans to.

"... Fine."

You cautiously make your way back to your little bed, sitting at the head of it, and half-slipping under the covers. It's... cute.

(Blade has not thought of anything as cute in several centuries.)

Blade wants to break your legs.

When he finishes, he collects both bowls, and looks around your room. It's sparse, though. There are a few books on the nightstand.

"... Are you bored?"

"Huh?" You ask. You'd been lost in thought, eyes lost. "Oh, I mean. yeah? There's not much to do."

"I'll bring some things. Bear it until then."

"Oh! Okay." You wrap the blanket around your shoulders tighter. "You're... Bladie, right?"

"Just Blade."

"Oh, okay. sorry." You wring your hands. "Thank you, Blade."

The thing in his chest blooms. A monstrous flower, mycelium under acres of land in a network that eats and never dies. Undergrowth that does nothing but rot and grow, grow and rot. 

Blade doesn't reply as he leaves the room. He gets halfway to the training wing before he has to pause, withdraw his phone, and send Kafka a frantic text: 'Meet me in the weaponry room.’

He pockets his phone before punching the wall. Clumsy fingers break upon impact, and the indentation of the fist remains in the metal. 

[lazywriters-blog]

SISTER's SUPPORT

Summary: A sister has gotta do what she gotta do. Slight dark undertones, implied stalking, very mild yandere behavior? But could be read as fluff or dark comedy, but questionable. Kinda dumb-

Why do I imagine Lynette being the pushy and bickering sister-in-law in support of her dear brother who hasn't cared to mention that you are partially still a stranger? And he hasn't gotten the chance to even introduce himself? But, he's a little shy and head over heels and implementing subtle tactics to bring you in.

"Do you care for a trick?"

You've heard it before, and though you never believed in magic or magicians you turned around to see the young man bowing his hat, a hand behind his back, and an elegant posture.

Magicians are but clever in deceiving and trickery, concealment, and whatnot. You could list a few more.

However, in favor of answering his voice, you speak up, "Oh no, thank you." The least you could do was smile and walk away, and you were going to until he stepped an inch and insisted, "Please just one trick?" he pleaded with his eyes this time.

You looked away, dealing with persistent people never went well in your case so you nodded, and he grinned big. Sighing and whining internally, you fold your arms and watch him reveal the insides of his hat, you've seen it done many times.

"Don't blink!" he playfully cautioned.

You dare not.

He examined you for a brief moment then pulled out a picture from the empty hat, and quickly handed it to you with a wide smile. You had been expecting a rose or something that symbolizes passion, or love. But not what you were seeing.

A hazy picture of black and white with a figure whose face resembled a ghost. It was an eerie sight to witness first thing in the morning.

"What... What is this?"

"Oh, did I hand you the wrong one?" he feigned innocence leaning over and taking a peek, "Oops!! My apologies, even magicians make mistakes!!" he exclaimed, stealing the picture out of her hand and replacing it with a ticket instead.

"As an apology, please accept this free ticket to my magic show this evening, I would love to see you there!" and then, he vanished into the alleyway.

You did not give much thought to the incident and went on your day, the ticket at the bottom of your pocket forgotten and missed. Cruel or sad may it be, you had no business being someplace you didn't want to.

It would have stopped there normally.

But it didn't...

"Oh!! Hello there!" It was his voice again you heard on the streets, he wasn't alone this time, "I must have freaked you out with my wrong trick, I figured that's why you didn't come to my show." Faking ignorance seemed harsh so you ceased your doing and glanced at the twins, you wanted it to be swift and stress-free.

"Not really, I was busy with work and I'm not a fan of crowds, Sorry I couldn't attend it." his sister had been staring long and fiercely, an odd sibling you assumed and acted, "I hear it was marvelous, the show you put up, people are still talking about it."

"You liar." That's the first thing you heard from his sister standing by his side, glaring and throwing knives into your chest, not literally but your heart did skip a few beats.

And strangely, it seemed to agitate the magician more than you. "Ha-ahaha! She just likes to tell jokes, don't mind her!"

"Oh... Uh, I see."

The conversation had turned sour, and none of you spoke a word or met eyes if it hadn't been for the young man, you would have been stuck in the silence for much longer.

"Um... We were heading to get dessert, you should come with us." he offered, friendly-toned and cautious of how he was being viewed, Despite the kind suggestion, you would rather decline than take harmless risks.

"Thanks... But--"

"Just shut up and come with us already. You have nothing to do tonight we know."

"Lynette!!"

If the earlier comment hadn't affected you, it did now. Sadly for you, his sister wasn't done yet and took a step forward to point an accusing finger at you, as if you had gone and killed someone dear to her and laughed it off in her face.

"Do you even know how sad my brother was when you didn't come to his show? You should be sorry for what you're doing to him! Why are you causing him pain?!"

Perhaps, asking for no trouble invited it instead.

"You torment him with your moody strikes! And you have the guts to ignore him! How dare you tear apart my brother's heart and act as if you're this kind lady who doesn't hurt-"

"Lynette!!!" Confusion couldn't dare to describe how you were feeling, the scene looked like a family quarrel, and you weren't even a part of it.

You felt like a wife scolded by her sister-in-law. Would saying anything work to quell the tension brewing in the air or even the eyes watching them? If you had to make a bet, the people were having the time of their lives watching the drama unveil.

"I'm sorry, I'm not sure I follow... I've never really talked to your brother-"

"You're coming with us!!" The only thing left for her to do was drag you there herself, that would be humiliating.

"Alright."

You felt like a part of the family alright.

[porcelain-siscon]

Humans don't look up.

At my height, it is a requirement. my sister, who I continue to refer to as despite her protests, stands thirty-nine centimeters taller than me. To make eye contact with her, something else she protests, I have to look at an eleven degree angle if I am two meters away. If I am asked to get something from a shelf, I have to look up to see things that are eye level for most people.

Humans don't look up, but dolls do.

I've never seen Antares, I never even had the chance. Deneb has been gone for so long that it feels almost mythological. But Regulus I remember. I remember pointing and saying "it's gone," only to be swiftly punished by my sister for speaking out of turn. I wonder if she remembered that moment the next time.

It was Aldebaran. Just like Regulus, there was a sudden shimmer before turning a piercing blue that lasted for but an instant. It was green for seconds after that, then yellow, then orange, then red, fading into nothing. "It's gone," I said again, speaking out of turn for the first time in near fourteen years.

I wasn't punished this time, so perhaps she did remember. This time she asked me what was gone.

"Aldebaran."

Humans don't tend to look up. Dolls always do.

This time we both did.

I familiarized myself with astronomy shortly after the disappearance of Regulus. This was behind my sister's back, always being careful to put books back into place, to carefully roll charts back up, to do as much calculation internally as I could, which is admittedly very little. I smuggled away paper and writing implements while forgoing precision tools, relying instead on the precision of the craftsmanship of my own body. There were only two points of data to work with, but I had a perfect understanding of time.

It was a clear night only a bit more than twenty-two years later. I knew my math was correct, though I did not know if my hypothesis was. I pointed upward, directly at Capella. My sister paid no attention, even as I spoke out of turn in an attempt to draw her eye.

It was to no avail. I watched as Capella flashed a brilliant blue, then faded to green, then yellow, then orange, slowly fading to blackness as the other two did.

"Capella is gone, sister."

She looked at me with the same hatred she always did when I referred to her like that, but I could see the way her anger gave way to a sort of scientific curiosity that she had whenever she was working. She asked me what happened, I explained to her the way the stars became glorious, only to fade to nothing over the course of mere seconds. I told her that I knew it was going to happen. She asked me how I knew. I told her that I was confirming a hypothesis.

She did not speak to me again for slightly more than six years.

"Which one this time, then?" she finally asked, on a cold, clear night. I pointed up towards Arcturus and told her it would be that one, in approximately two and a half hours. We waited in silence as I continued to point.

I counted down when we reached the ten second mark.

I wonder if that's why she looked at what happened to the star with sadness rather than fear. I wondered why I feared her more than the approaching darkness, even after all her punishments.

There was much discussion in scientific and arcane communities to try and discern what was happening, but I was not privy to listen in, only reading what I could in published works without my sister noticing. Pollux, Fomalhaut and Vega in the same year, Altair, then Procyon. All of them suffered the same fate. My sister cloistered herself away in her atelier most of the time, only speaking to me when she wanted an update on when the next vanishing would be.

She didn't watch Sirius vanish with me.

I felt more lonely without the stars than I did without her attention. Even if all she ever did was punish me or experiment on me, use me as an assistant, she was still my sister and I loved her dearly, even if I resented all of that.

But the stars were always there for me.

Because dolls have to look up.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

A 47 years old mother and her 15 years old son were seriously injured in a Hezbollah rocket attack today, aimed at the northern city of Kiryat Shmona. I'll just point out that even though the Iran-funded terrorism group always claims their attacks on Israelis are a retaliation for this or for that, they chose to open fire at Israel on Oct 7 (when this country was busy with Hamas terrorists still infiltrating it in the south), and they haven't stopped since.

I just wanted to show you what it looks like when Israel's border is being fired at, but please keep in mind that Iron Dome was only implemented in 2011, but we have been fired at by one hostile entity or another (often more than one) for a very long time. I can't remember a time when we weren't afraid of rockets being fired at us. And Iron Dome, as demonstrated again today, with all due respect to it, is like every other defence system: it's not foolproof. Any person who wouldn't accept being at the receiving end of these rocket barrages, has no right to demand that Israel continues to accept this distorted reality.

(audio: Golda Meir)

So this is a reminder that this is what Israel has been dealing with almost non-stop since Oct 7 from several fronts.

Here in Israel, we continue to follow with alarm the rise of antisemitic incidents around the globe. This time, I have to share with you this horrifying bit of news, about a Jewish student, Lahav Shapira, being beaten so badly, that he had to be hospitalized and undergo surgery for the facial injuries that he endured at the hands of an Arab (so called "pro-Palestinian") student. Police says this was following an argument over the war in Gaza, Lahav's family says he and his gf were stalked, then he was jumped, while the attacker shouted, "Why are you posting pictures of kidnapped people?" To make matters worse, this happened in Berlin, and Lahav is the grandson of an Israeli athelete who was murdered by Palestinian terrorists in Germany, while he was participating in the 1972 Olympic Games. Berlin's Free University's response was weak, focused on explaining that the law prevents them from expelling the attacking student.

While ignorant social media users insist that what's happening to the Palestinians is a genocide, the niece of Qatar-based Hamas leader Ismail Haniyeh gave birth in an Israeli hospital. Her baby was born prematurely, and is taken care of in the NICU. Haniyeh has 3 sisters who married Israeli Bedouin Arabs, got Israeli citizenship through that, and live in Israel with full citizen rights. I've worked with so many victims of actual cases of genocide, and NONE went to get medical treatment from the people who were massacring them.

I've now seen Tumblr posts accusing Israel of bombing over one million people in Rafah. These are posts referring to the rescue raid, where Israeli soldiers raided one apartment, SAVED two hostages, and then left. If you're trying to save two hostages from terrorists who would kill their prisoners and themselves first, you wanna sneak in there as discreetly as possible. You wouldn't bomb an entire city. Even Hamas' false spin, blaming Israel of a massacre (and don't forget that Hamas is the organization telling the world how many died during this operation), didn't try to claim that the IDF attacked the whole population of the city. There's something insanely wrong in a reality where people on social media uncritically pass along lies that not even a terrorist organization dares to tell.

The graduating student in the cap is Matan Levi.

He studied law, and was about to have his graduation ceremony when Hamas' massacre took place. He left everything, and went south to fight as a reservist that verey day. On Oct 14, he was hit by a mortar, and when he woke up in the hospital, he discovered that he had lost his eyesight. According to his own account, that was very hard to hear, but his first thought was regarding how this won't break him, how he can move on from this. Since then, he's been accompanied by a former soldier named Amit Barel:

Amit fought and was injured in the Second Lebanon War, back in 2006. He lost his sight, too. He has since developed a career, married, and had kids. He's a part of a program where wounded former soldiers are helping those who have been recently injured to cope with their new challenges. He said that simply seeing that life is possible even with serious injuries is very helpful to a lot of the newly wounded soldiers. I thought it's inspirational, how people can put their misfortune to good use, to help others, how these new bonds and friendships get formed, so I wanted to share the story of this touching project.

But I also wanted to reflect on how Israel is a society of wounded people. Not just physically. We have the collective trauma caused by thousands of years of antisemitic persecution, including the Holocaust and the expulsion of Mizrachi Jews from Arab and Muslim countries, and we have the on going trauma caused by the continued use of violence against us in a war that was started against us in 1947, and has never really ended, whatever form it has taken at different points in time. No one has a right to speak about this conflict, unless they're willing to acknowledge this hurt, too.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[cass-rambles]

honestly I'm probably overthinking this, but I think it's an interesting detail that in the Unmortricken episode during the whole "trap Saw box" shit we've got this shot of Evil Morty sort of disappointed/dismayed RIGHT as we've got our Morty Prime telling Rick to "take the shot".

Like he's got the sort of annoyed, sort of cast down look for a few seconds (because right after we have the "We both hate Rick Prime more than each other either way" thing) and I'm reading way too much into this, but it makes me think that he does give a shit about Morty, despite his Very Constant Denial.

I mean taking all aspects of the episode under consideration, we've got several scenes where it is heavily underlined that Evil Morty does not care about Rick C-137 nor Morty, even being blunt about it and telling everyone to fuck off or it won't end well.

It's not that I don't believe he wants to be left alone, he very pointedly does, Buttttt I think E!Morty does hold some form of "softness" or positive emotions towards Morty.

Looking at their characteristics in the episode, I know most of the other fans have noticed that our "main" Morty's character seemed to have regressed for the ep to more of s1/s2 behavior, making him look more "whiney" and weak in comparison to Evil Morty. I think it's to point out that if we Had our Morty's normal behavior from even previous episodes of season 7, we'd be able to see how SIMILAR both of them are now.

(I mean c'mon, I get you rushed his character a little, but to fuck it right back to season 1/2 during a significant mid season finale? You've gotta have a bigger reason for it.)

In either case, it's likely that we have an episode of Morty sub-consciously trying his hardest not to act like Evil Morty (That's why we got the development regression for an episode) as Evil Morty seemingly just acts like himself, merely underlining that he does not care.

"This didn't make us friends" okay??? Then why even wait for Prime Morty at all to join Rick in his beat down w Rick Prime? Don't get me wrong, Evil Morty won't suddenly develop attachment to him out of thin air, but imo he sees all the potential Prime Morty has yet is currently wasting it.

It's sort of a little nod to how insane it is of a parallel that Ricks can't fucking stand one another or themselves, immediately trying to one up the other or kill, as to how Mortys can co-exist peacefully and work together without any unhealthy character implements. (Fun fact: If you're into mortycest in one of the comics two Mortys sleep w each other. So we've got established selfcest in canon too if you're imagining and rolling Evil Morty's and Morty's relationship into a more romantic ball court.)

Another little detail I noticed, we have a moment where Rick shoots at Evil Morty again for funsies and I gotta say, the expressions are feeding into my overanalyzing brain . LIKE??? AM I SEEING THIS WRONG?

These two have GOT to have something cooking between them PLEASE.

[pockwashereart]

Flaming Gavle Goat Ornament Tutorial

You Will Need:

Craft felt in light brown or 'straw' color of choice, red, yellow and orange

Red ribbon in 2 widths

Thread- I used red and yellow; brown, orange or white would give different effects

scissors

Needle for hand sewing

pins or quilter's clips

polyfill stuffing or fabric scraps

a poking implement

a lighter or Fray check glue

paper and pencil

patience / approx 2 hours to waste making a meme for the holidays

To start, I drew a rectangle approx 3.25 in wide by 4 in high and sketched out a geometric goat shape. You could go a bit larger, but if you go much smaller it will be difficult to stuff. Remember that the sewing and stuffing will eat up some of your edges.

Cut out your goat template and trace it on your light brown felt. I used chalk, marker may work depending on how neatly you cut.

(I'll add a nice vectored template to this tutorial later, but I'll have to fight with the scanner first. )

Cut 2 of your goat. It doesn't matter if they're not exactly the same, as you can fudge the edges a little when you sew. If your felt has a front and back you can tell apart, you'll need to pick a "right" side of the fabric and mirror one of the goat base pieces.

I cut my ribbon decorations in advance, wrapping it around the stacked bases to check the length - remember you'll be stuffing this later so you may need to add a tiny bit more to accomodate.

Out of the wider ribbon, you'll need one for each leg, one for the tummy and one for the bridle. The thin ribbon will be to hang the ornament with and to wrap the horns- I did not pre-measure the horn wrapping because I wasn't sure how long it would need to be. Finish the cut edges of the ribbon as you like- I used a lighter to heat seal them but fray check or white glue will work. Glue will be more difficult to sew through.

Start sewing the goat bases together. I used red thread and a basic whip stitch, but you could get a couple different effects by using white or brown thread, or by sewing a blanket stitch.

Here's where I made life difficult for myself- stop when you get to the legs and wrap the ribbon in place, tucking the ends in between the layers. This secures them and hides the edges but is fiddly to pin and sew. You can also wait until you have sewn most of the way around and tack or glue the ribbons on top if you're less fussy about the ends showing.

Continue sewing around the legs and body, catching the ribbons in your stitches and repeating for the bridle ribbon. Stop at the base of the horns so you have room to stuff.

I'm working with modern plastic materials, so sadly (or not) this goat isn't terribly flammable, just meltable. If you want to be eco friendly you can stuff him with scrap fabrics. I'm using polyfill.

Use a chopstick, paintbrush handle or empty mechanical pencil to poke your stuffing into place. Smaller lumps of fluff are better and more maneuverable.

For firmer limbs stuff chopped up bits of your felt into the legs and head and follow it up with the polyfill.

My original plan for the removable flame was to do clever things with magnets, so if you want to give that a try this would be the point to toss one in before you close up the body. I was on a roll and didn't remember until I was working on the horns. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Remember you still need to put the tummy ribbon on and curse your clumsy giant fingers!! Getting everything situated and laying nicely may take a couple attempts. Once you've stabbed yourself with the pins a couple times, sew up the inner curve from the base of the horns on the neck to where the horns meet up again on the butt.

Be careful of where your thread tail goes and the direction of your stitches, it's easy to accidentally loop around the whole body or catch the horns.

There should still be a bitty opening at the base of the horns and at the butt (giggle here), if you flattened your stuffing during the last step and need to poke a teensy bit more in.

Tie your length of hanging ribbon into a loop and set aside.

This is another step where my need to hide the edges made life stupid and fiddly. Tuck the edge of a length of the thin ribbon between the layers on the bottom of the horns and wrap it around, and tack in place with a couple stitches. Loop it a couple of times until you get to the point you want to hang the ornament: I chose dead center, you may want him at a jaunty angle.

Fiddle with bendy felt, slippery ribbon and pins until your hanging ribbon's knot is sandwiched between the 2 layers of the horns and continue wrapping with the loose long piece, securing with pins or clips as needed and hopefully not making a big tangled mess of ribbon.

When you get to the end wrap it around a couple times and cut off any extra length, seal your ribbon and pin or clip into place.

Sew along remaining curves of the horn, making sure not to yank the hanging ribbon out of place and to catch the wrapping ribbon as you go. Accept there's no good way to tuck in this !$@!%%^$ slippery 1/8th BS ribbon and tack the butt end down with a few extra stitches.

Alternately, tack the hanging ribbon in place between the layers, sew the edges and then wrap and secure the horn ribbon with stitches or glue at either end. You could also skip sewing the edges of the horns together before wrapping them, but it will be more sturdy and secure with them sewn.

The fun part! fold some paper in half and draw your flames on the fold. Mine were a little over 2 in tall, and they should be a little smaller than the back of your goat at the base in order to fit in place. Cut out your fire and use it as a template for your felt.

The base layer will need to be on cut on the fold but the rest can be separate. Use as many or as few layers and colors as you like, it doesn't have to match exactly on both sides. You'll be folding this up so that you have 2 decorative sides facing out and a plain inside, so you'll be making two mirrored flames while it's still flat: one pointing up and one pointing down. Sew or glue the layers together.

I used a hidden stitch about a third of the way up from the bottom on the inside of the flame to pinch the sides together and pull it up into a V shape. This can be tucked up into the gap between the body and the horns and will hold itself in place pretty well if you have thick felt.

For more security/ shaping you could sew a loop of craft wire or an opened paperclip to the back side of the flame, or as previously mentioned do clever things with magnets.

Hang him on the tree with or without flames and enjoy!

Options for enjoying your handcrafted goat:

Pin the Flame on the Goat: Hide goat ornament on tree and give your participant (s) the flame (s), first to put them together wins.

Art Imitates Goat: Keep the flames to the side until/ if the real goat burns, and then apply to ornament. Celebrate with hot cocoa or warm winter drink of choice.

Voodoo Goat: Real Gavlebocken hasn't burned yet? Summon the flames by setting your ornament on felt fire! Celebrate with hot cocoa or warm winter drink of choice.

[bird-inacage]

Only Friends: How Mew criticises Ray VS How Sand criticises Ray

Something I've really noticed since Episode 4 is the increasing distinction between how Mew and Sand school Ray. The scenes in Episode 6 and Episode 7 provide a perfect point of comparison. Both Mew and Sand use the phrase 'love yourself' towards Ray but the tone and delivery is completely different.

Unsurprisingly, what Ray desperately needs in his life is a mother figure. Someone who can be firm and stern when necessary but still caring at the same time. Sand's approach feels better suited to Ray in this respect.

Sand starts by acknowledging that Ray's hurting but it doesn't excuse his behaviour and it isn't going to stop Sand from calling it out. He makes sure to explain why it's problematic, why it's hurtful, why it's dangerous. Sand's words are driven by concern. He's even worried about the guilt Ray would have to shoulder if he did hurt anyone else.

Whereas in the scene with Mew, he makes immediate assumptions (I still maintain that Ray was not high here, he looked pretty darn sober throughout the bathroom scene to me), but that's where Mew's mind goes. His question "why don't you love yourself at all?" implies that Ray doesn't have any self-respect to take care of himself, and so what he's saying sounds driven by disappointment. Mew's tone also carries an air of exasperation, 'I've told you again and again'. @thatgirl4815 does a great job of commenting on Mew's attitude towards Ray in Episode 6 (here).

After Sand has said what he needs to say, he still doesn't want Ray to feel too bad. Sand's little pat on Ray's knee is an attempt to soften the blow, paired with a slightly helpless feeling of, 'I just want what's best for you'.

Now let's observe how Ray reacts when schooled.

Ray may not always implement the stern talking to he's getting, but you can tell that when with Sand, Ray is listening. He doesn't try to deflect, retort or dodge. He usually looks guilty. Guilt suggests remorse. Which means you realise what you've done is wrong. Whereas Ray's initial reaction to Mew is slight shock. This is the biggest indication to me that Ray wasn't getting high here. When he finally responds to Mew, it's brushed off with a laugh - 'yeah, yeah, I'm fine, it's nothing, no matter' - it doesn't seem like any of what Mew's said has really sunk in, just that Ray doesn't want him to dwell on this point any further.

How Mew delivers his pep talk feels authoritative, 'I told you to quit using drugs' (and you didn't listen). Your mistake is not taking my advice. On the other hand, Sand never once says anything along the lines of, 'I told you so, I warned you, I tried to stop you'. It's not about Ray following his orders, it's Sand providing Ray with the context to hopefully avoid making reckless decisions for himself in future.

Mew seems to have accepted Ray's inability to change, and his criticisms are merely a matter of routine at this point. Whereas Sand seems genuinely driven to encourage Ray to do better for both the sake of himself and others around him.

[amysubmits]

We signed up to attend a kink event months ago. Our first ever in-person kink event. It would include classes and "dungeon parties" for public play.

We both are turned on by the idea of public play but for ethical reasons, we've been very limited and cautious in what we've done, of course.

The idea of having the opportunity to do something publicly and ethically was really exciting. CD has teased me about it for months. At the same time, it was pretty scary. We had no real idea of what to expect at this event. With us both having social anxiety, we didn't know if we'd actually go through with trying anything or not. As it got closer, the feelings just amplified. The idea of submitting to him spanking me in public felt more real, and that certainly made it hotter at times. At other times, the reality of it made it scarier. Could I really go through with it? I really didn't know, and neither did he. We knew we'd just have to see how we felt once the time came.

We checked out the dungeon on the first day, as watching others is welcomed. Lots of people were being spanked with various implements on different kneeling tables. We didn't see anyone using their hands. We've never used a bench like this. This added to the anxiety.

At the same time, our anxiety had reduced some from the event overall. The vast majority of people seemed really comfortable to be doing what they were doing, to wear what they were wearing - to be visible with their kink or D/s dynamic. It was, of course, very different from anything we had experienced before, but it was really cool to experience a bunch of people doing what they wanted to do and not caring about fitting in with the social norms we've all grown accustomed to.

I still wasn't sure if I could really go through with it after walking around the dungeon that first day. On the second day though, I got thinking about how happy CD would be if I could do it. And how rare the opportunity was. And how hot it would be to be a little public with our kink. To let some strangers see how he dominates me, and how I submit to him.

So I told him I definitely wanted to do it. He started considering how to go about it. We hadn't seen empty benches at all when we had been through the other night, so we weren't sure how long we'd have to wait to find one. We assumed it might be busiest when the parties first start, but then slow down once it got late (the parties went past midnight). So we almost waited until later to even go look but then CD said we should go see just in case, and we'd probably go back later to try again. We took the stairs down to the area where the dungeon was, while most people take the elevator so we were alone in the stairway as we went down. Partway there CD said "Remember you can always change your mind." My pussy clenched. This sort of thing, the way he looks out for my needs and boundaries 24/7, even when his own pleasure is on the line, is so much of why I love submitting to him.

When we got down there, there was a bench available. CD said he thought we should just do it. So we did. He sat on the kneeling portion of the bench and took my bottoms off, and had me get onto the bench in my shirt and panties at first. My stomach was a mix of nerves and excitement.

He spanked me for a little bit and asked me to adjust. This thing was not made for 5'1" people, so when kneeling I wasn't all the way up on the bench. I climbed up higher as he asked. There were other benches perhaps 2-3 feet to each side of us. One of them was doing some sort of impact, but it sounded so much quieter than my own. I wondered if it only seemed that way to me or not. He used his fingers to trace over my ass and down my thighs every once in a while. Helping me to relax before going back to spanking me. He pulled my panties down and off. My mind buzzed with racing thoughts that basically equated to 'I'm naked...in public!'

I took off my glasses so I could lay more comfortably with my face against the bench. He kept slowly upping the intensity. For much of it, he was landing blows hard enough that my body was moving forward with each hit, but I was physically relaxed so I was just jostling back and forth on the bench as it absorbed the impact after it went through me. My ass burned, but the pain was muffled by my distraction. I couldn't see much from where I was, but all I could think about was that we were really doing this. We're really doing this thing that we do - in a room of 100+ other people. I saw people walk past a few times but couldn't really see if they looked or not. CD checked in with me to see how I was doing as it was running longer than usual. I told him I was fine to continue, so he did. He upped the intensity even more, hitting my thighs some. Shortly after a dungeon monitor walked by and stopped quite close to me. Some people came up to him to ask the dungeon monitor some questions. I closed my eyes. If I can't see them, that means they can't see me, right? Eventually CD told me I could get dressed. I did as quickly as I could. My ass was on fire and my brain was floaty. We tossed out the sheet that we had used to protect the bench, and then CD said we should walk through the dungeon to see what others were doing. As we made the round, I thought about how we were both looking at everyone we passed, at least briefly. This made me realize that in all likelihood, everyone who walked past probably saw us, too. CD said later that he had tried to stay focused on just me, but that he had noticed some people did stop to watch. I'm not sure if he meant the same people I saw or not. I wouldn't be surprised if this seems weird to those of you who follow me here because I tend to share a lot of private stuff on here. But, IRL we're both really reserved, private people. I'm still a little shocked that we really did this - but it was really fun. I'm not one to particularly enjoy bruises usually, but I did enjoy it when I realized my butt bruised pretty good. Mostly because I had felt like it was an intense spanking, but had wondered if my perception was skewed due to my nerves. It kinda felt like evidence that he really did give it to me good despite just using his hand. His hand felt slightly bruised after, too. We made a longtime fantasy come true, it was hot for us both, I was able to submit to CD in a somewhat new way that required a lot of trust and some embarrassment, and we let some other people see a part of us that we'd previously kept private. It's not all that often that you get the chance to make several things like that happen at once. I'm glad we took advantage of the opportunity while we had it.

[thegoldencontracts]

Let's Play!

After seeing Azul fall asleep at his desk, you decide it's time for an impromptu game night to relax. Of course, things end up being the opposite of relaxing.

Notes: Just pure fluff, GN reader, some flustered Azul at the end bc he was smug the whole fic and we can't have that hehe

"That's lovely to hear."

"Azul?"

"I barely said anything!"

"Mhm. Exquisite!"

"Wha- are you even listening to me?"

"You're not listening, are you?"

"Truly, fascinating."

"..."

"Azul? Did you just fall asleep?"

"..."

And that was how you ended up calling for an impromptu game night, just the two of you. It'd be fun! And maybe Azul could go to bed at a normal time afterwards.

"You just fell asleep, didn't you?"

"This is entirely unnecessary, you know."

"I do know," you said. "But it'll be fun. Do you even know what that word means, takoyaki?"

"Don't call me that."

"No can do, takoyaki. Now, what game do you want to play first?"

Azul just glared at you petulantly. You glared back. After a while, he gave up.

"Fine, fine," he said. "Scrabble. And don't expect me to go easy on you."

"Like I'll need it," you said.

You quickly regretted those words. He beat you at every single round. How? It wasn't even close! Why was he just so good at this?

"How do you-"

"Heh," Azul said, a smug grin on his face. "It seems as if you're having some regrets."

"Why, you-!" You were getting fired up. "You know what? I'm picking the next game! We're playing Uno! Good luck winning every round of that!"

He did, in fact, win every round of that. Somehow. How? It was a luck-based game, for God's sake!

"I- how did you-"

"Trade secret, my dearest," he said. "I do believe it's my turn to pick our next game, then. How about Monopoly?"

Monopoly. Yeah, that would work. Monopoly was literally about rolling dice! There was no way he could rig that!

He did. Somehow. All the rolls were in his favor. How? You checked to see if the dice was loaded. It wasn't.

"That was just you cheating!" You said.

"Have you forgotten you're playing against a member of the Board Games Club?" He said, then at your deadpan stare, added "I learned to trick throw dice.

"But that's cheating!"

"No, it isn't. There are no rules against it."

You got the feeling he wasn't going to back down on this one. Luck-based games were out of the question, then. And so were skill-based games because he was good at everything. That was all games!

Wait. You had an idea. But you would wait before trying to implement it. You wanted to end things with a win for you. That way, you could pretend Azul was at a loss.

And so, you let yourself get clobbered, over and over and over again. Now, it was the last game of the night, and it was your turn.

"Any last wins to hand over to me?" He said, smug as ever. You were going to make him eat those words.

"Why yes," you said, relishing how what you said next wiped the smirk off of Azul's stupidly kissable face.

"Twister."

Azul glared at you.

"Ah, but dear," he said bitterly, "I'm afraid we only have two players."

"That's okay, takoyaki," you replied in kind. "I have a hands free spinner online.

Azul gulped.

"Are you certain this is your choice?"

"Absolutely," you said.

You could see the bead of sweat that dripped down Azul's face. Twister was a game about flexibility, something that Azul lacked. It also put people into compromising positions, kryptonite to someone who cared as much about their image as Azul.

"I-I see," Azul said. "Let us start, then."

Twister was far more satisfying than the other games. Azul struggled way more than you did, limbs trembling with exertion, and he still refused to give up. He was so adorably stubborn.

By the end of it, you were in an easy-to-hold downward dog position. Azul, on the other hand, was stuck in an arch. Heh.

"You sure you don't wanna give up, Azul?" You asked.

"Hmph. As if I'd- Ack-!"

Azul fell, and before he could hit his head, you caught him, before pulling him into a kiss as a reward for your bravery.

As you broke away, gently lowering Azul onto the ground, he looked away from you, face red.

Cute.

"Hmph," he groaned, mumbling his words, "what was that for?"

"A prize," you said. "For me. I won this round, after all."

"And I won all the others," he said. "And yet I haven't received any prizes."

"Do you want a prize, then?"

You said it as a joke, but he bashfully nodded.

"Well then," you said. "All you had to do was ask!"

As you pulled him into a kiss, you couldn't help but think that your boyfriend was absolutely irresistible.

[gnomishcunning]

You asked someone to bite the bullet and ask abt Zevlor w a bratty partner and i am here, ate the bullet fucking whole dude. Thoughts and hcs for zev with a bratty reader? 🎤🎤🎤

shoutout to like, the eight of you who showed up in my inbox to ask. please consider this response the consolidated answer.

nsfw below the cut! MDNI

CW FOR: my headcanons bout zevlor's sex life, kink discussion, bdsm, d/s dynamics, sadomasochism, manhandling, breathplay implications, subdrop & domdrop discussion

so i mentioned this in my previous post, but for anybody who didn't witness it - i don't think bdsm is a lifestyle thing for Zevlor. he's been taking care of people his entire life, and while he adores taking care of his partner, he needs to be able to express vulnerability and relax, too.

subsequently, bdsm shenanigans are a special-occasions sex thing, maybe once or twice a month. one of you is going need to broach the subject about a session and from there, requests and preferences for the evening will be laid out, with a safe word agreed upon like, a week beforehand. for the record: he can and will be testing if you remember it

now, onto the good bits

a bratty sub and zevlor's general disposition as a dominant is effectively an unstoppable force meets immovable object hostage scenario, in the hottest and most erotic way possible

let me make this clear: he's never not dotting on you. he's kind and patient. he'll help you through your struggles and work with you to live up to expectations.

but the sweetness you've come to expect from the paladin you've fallen in love with has been put on the backburner. a better word now is mercy, because he will not let you get away with shit.

He's your Commander. it's his job to take responsibility for you and your actions, and he's going to insure you understand the full ramifications of your misbehavior

he tends to meet misbehavior with a funishment to fit the crime.

are you mouthing off? he's going to take away your ability to speak, whether that's through his fingers, his cock, or a gag. are you

ignoring him? he'll put you in a position where it's physically impossible to ignore him, whether it's bondage and shibari, or a blindfold to insure the only things you can focus on are his voice and touch.

denial is a regular tool in his arsenal. you need to behave nicely, or at the very least, submit to the funishments if you want to cum. zevlor's spent decades in tightly-wound control of himself. combine that self-restraint with the way he adores knowing how to please his partner, and he is very capable of bringing you to the very edge of oblivion, only to let it fade off and leave you frustrated.

overstimulation is another tool he utilizes, but in a very specific manner. he isn't the type to immediately increase the speed or strength of his ministrations after you'd cum, it's just...

he's relentless. he lets you cum, brings you down with a few sweet kisses, pets your thighs for a moment, and then... starts up again. he'll ring as many orgasms out of your body as he can manage, and he's not above using magic in the bedroom to make it happen. specifically: lesser restoration (and lay on hands) is among the paladin spell group (at least in 5e). have fun with that.

assuming his partner is a masochist 'corporal punishment', as he affectionately calls it, is on-board for either accidentally disobeying his orders, or playfully, purposefully disobeying. he's kind of the exact opposite of a sadist, but he enjoys the noises you make if you like it, so he's willing to compromise

he usually prefers to put you over his lap for the sake of spanking. he'd introduce a riding crop, after a very long and careful conversation about using said implement.

he'll always have you count. hells help you if you lose it

punishments, like. proper punishments, the type that make you consider the ramifications of your behavior, are only implemented after a very long and careful discussion where you communicate your desire to experience said ramifications.

unfortunately for you, he's creative, and punishments fit the crime. he's undoubtedly had some drill sargent experience, that'll rear it's head here

if you mouth off? be prepared to write lines, a dozen or fifty or a hundred

'I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public. I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public. I won't whisper filthy things to my Commander in public-'

lazying around when you promised him you'd be busy will be met with playful sparring sessions to "Get your reflexes back on track, love."

usually ending with you pinned to the ground by a hand at your throat (in a good way, you'd usually get fucked there)

if you're just being an obstinate fuck in general?

there's a wooden stool in one corner of your apartment. he can and will put you in time out, forcing you to just... sit there, and think about your thoughts, while he reads on the couch across the room, maybe enjoying a glass of while. look at you! you could've been snuggling with your hot tiefling bf, but no. you acted foolish and now you're in time out. think about what you've done.

regardless of the nature of the session, Zevlor has some staples: his mouth will inevitably find its way onto your body, whether he's teasing you with gentle kisses or bringing you over the edge with his mouth.

he still likes leaving marks behind since you can't tell me he isn't the lightest bit possessive, and it's his primary reason for never bothering with a collar. what could a little band of leather say that the ring of bruises around your neck already doesn't?

ultimately, zevlor's not really a brat-tamer. he's a brat handler. he feels no need to tame you, not when he knows you melt so easily with his attention and his touch.

now, in terms of aftercare...

zevlor's the type of dom to check in constantly, before, during and after - making sure you remember safeword, if what he's doing is okay, if you need a drink of water. this type of behavior occurs more constantly with a bratty partner, since the dynamic can sometimes obscure actual feelings and brats have a tendency to be a threat to their own health.

zevlor can also go from hot commanding officer to loving, doted partner in an instant. they're two different sides of the same coin.

his approach to centering his partner after a session is very sweet and tactile. he'd use soft praises, sweet words, and gentle touches to lure you back into your own body from that weird, floaty, no-thoughts zone of subspace.

if he'd realized it helped, he'd 100% start purring (another tiefling headcanon i'm fond of). it's deep and brassy and incredibly comforting

now, the side-effect of being in charge of legions of soldiers (including fresh and nervous recruits) is that zevlor's very efficient and effective at helping and managing the emotions of others, even if he tends to get swept up in tides of his own.

between that and how intimately he'd know the wants and needs of his partner to even safely enact a d/s dynamic (in his mind), zevlor's pretty damn good at picking up when you'd be heading into subdrop - whether it's mid-session, somewhere in the midst of aftercare, or even the day after.

managing subdrop is basically aftercare+, with the addition of insuring his partner he's a constant, constant presence. he loves and adores you, he's not going anywhere, and there's no reason to be ashamed of your desires, when they're mutually agreed-upon and enjoyed by both.

it's worth noting that zevlor's susceptible to domdrop. everyone is, but him especially - he feels his emotions deeply, especially in regards to taking care of others. he'll safeword if he's feeling overwhelmed or too out-of-control in a situation - his communication skills are too good for him not to, but. afterwards?

be prepared to put the bratty persona aside. be there for him. snuggle, reassure if you can manage words, just do everything you can to communicate how much you love him. making him focus on you, just you, is usually an effective way to interrupt the anxiety-depression-shame spiral

just keep an eye on him day-after, since the moods might linger. make sure to show him some extra affection, and maybe surprise him with something nice.