#but i wrote an entire part on the verge of an end and it just lost it all

[4unnyr0se]

❥ sfw & n$fw headcanons - yuu nishinoya & morisuke yaku

warnings: timeskip! characters, fem! reader, they're sweetiepies, noya is actually a freak, roleplay, switch! noya, hickeys, spanking, mentions of unprotected sex, dom! yaku, slight breeding kink with yaku, cowgirl, doggystyle, they love you so much

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 2k

a/n: im sorry if yaku is ooc i wrote this at 2am and i do not feel like editing anything. n$fw is censored because i would like to keep my blog lmao

Yuu Nishinoya - SFW

❥ Absolutely whipped for you the second he lays his eyes upon you. You could be doing anything, literally anything, and he knew right then and there that he would die for you, no questions asked.

❥ He doesn’t really care what qualifies as a “date” as long as he gets to spend time with you. You could be folding laundry together, and he thinks it’s the most romantic date you’ve been on because you’re with him and you’re his entire world.

❥ Spontaneous. Gifts. He’ll send flowers to where you work, give you cool rocks he found while hiking or doing some other such thing, making you a care basket full of your favorite chocolates and snacks, contracting Sugawara to help him write love letters (writing is not his strong suit but he still wants to do it.)

❥ So much food, like…just so much food. You’ve been to every restaurant in town at least twice because that boy loves to eat. Even if you aren’t a big eater, he’ll still make sure you get three meals a day plus snacks. And if you struggle to eat, he’ll be so happy even if you only eat a little bit off your plate.

❥ Quality time and physical touch are his love languages, so expect to be getting kisses often. Pecks on the cheek in public, his arms wrapped around your waist from behind as you wash dishes in the sink. And if he’s jealous? He has no problem making out with you in front of people because you’re his, and the world should know.

❥ Speaking of physical touch, this man will not stop holding your hand. At least one part of him is touching a part of you at any given moment when you’re together as if he’s afraid you’d float away if he let go.

❥ Hella clingy, this man is incredibly clingy. If you get up to use the restroom when you’re cuddling, he’s waiting outside the door for you to come back so he can kiss those beautiful lips of yours. He just can’t get enough!

❥ Obsessed with you and everything that you do. Did you sneeze? He’s on the verge of tears because you look so fucking cute when you sneeze. Did you buy a new outfit? He’s throwing a tantrum until you model it for him so he can shower you with praise. Noya worships the ground you walk on and them some. 

❥ Lowkey possessive but in a good way. Deep down, he’s worried that you’ll leave him for someone taller or better than he is, so he gets a tiny bit jealous when he sees someone talking to you that he considers a threat. Of course, you’re free to do whatever you like. He would never tell you what you can and cannot do. He respects you too much for that. But he will talk to you about his feelings because he’s mature like that.

N$FW

❥ So. Many. Hickeys. This ties into the part of him being possessive. He wants to let everyone know that you’re his, and what better way to show you off than by parading you around town with your neck and chest covered in little red and purple bruises? You’ve nearly gone bankrupt on buying just concealer because once a hickey fades away, a new one will take its place in no time at all.

❥ Literally anything the two of you do will end in him fucking you or vice versa. If you bend down to pick something up, his hands are groping your ass, and he’s pulling down your panties and shoving his fingers into your pussy, all the while whispering the filthiest things in your ear. 

❥ This motherfucker whines and whimpers, and he’s so incredibly loud about it. The second he shoves his dick inside, he becomes a babbling, pussydrunk mess that’s only focused on you cumming all over his cock.

❥ Noya is 100% a switch who doesn’t lean towards being submissive or dominant. He just does whatever you want him to. Do you want him to fuck you stupid for hours on end? He’s down for that? Do you want to tie him up, blindfold him, and ride him until he can’t think. Also completely down for that. 

❥ Endless stamina. As long as you’re up for it, he can fuck you for the entire day. He simply doesn’t believe in a recovery period on his end. He’ll fuck you from sunrise to sunset. All you have to do is ask.

❥ Tits man 100%. Noya loves tits, no matter the size or shape. If you have huge tits, he’s fondling them as he takes you from behind. Medium-sized tits? He sucks on them as you ride his cock, relishing in the taste. Small tits? He plays with your pert nipples as he fucks you missionary. All tits are good tits in his eyes

.❥ Highly experimental in the bedroom. He’ll try anything and everything if it means you both get to feel good. From you pegging him to him filming your third orgasm of the night, he’s down for whatever. The only things he isn’t okay with are hitting you (impact play) and sharing you with others. He will casually slap your ass but that’s as far as he’ll go. He just can’t bring himself to hit you, even if it turns you on.

❥ Could eat you out for literal days and not get tired, not even for one second. He wants you cumming on his tongue and pulling on his hair as you beg him for more, and he’ll give it to you.

❥ Focuses on your pleasure, not his own. You’re his goddess and he’d do anything to serve you, anything to make you cum again and again.

❥ Has a whole index of kinks, but his top ones are roleplay and passionate sex. Dress up as a teacher, and he’ll cum in his pants, begging on you to punish him for failing your class.

❥ Loves to make love to you.

❥ “Yeah? You like it when I fuck you with my fingers, angel? M’gonna make you cum so fucking much for me, my perfect angel.”

❥ “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight. Can’t get enough of this dick, can you baby? Gotta fuck you stupid.”

❥ “More, I want more! I’ve been so bad, I deserve to be punished, ma’am!”

❥ “Talk to the camera for me, angel. Tell the camera how many times my cock made this pussy squirt all over the sheets.”

❥ “Gonna fucking cum inside, can’t pull out. Oh, fuck, baby, you’re fucking milking me dry, shit.”

❥ “Faster, fuck me faster! Wanna fucking cum so bad, please! I’ve been good, right?”

Morisuke Yaku - SFW

❥ Loves when you get an attitude with him because he also has an attitude. He loves when you talk back to him and when you tell him how you really feel, it’s just so refreshing. Honesty is very important to Yaku.

❥ You and Yaku basically continue to mother Lev well after you’re both graduated. Lev will call and text you for advice and you’ll gladly help him, even if Yaku gets a little jealous that you’re paying more attention to the oversized Russian than you are to your own boyfriend.

❥ Takes you on the most romantic restaurant dates ever. He has professional athlete money, so order whatever the hell you like! If you want five lobsters, get five lobsters. As long as his baby is happy.

❥ Spoils you rotten, but he won’t ever admit it. If you point out a cute necklace that you saw in a magazine, it’s there when you wake up the next morning. Yaku will pretend to not know how it got there, but he knows, obviously. Expect lots of expensive gifts when you’re dating, especially from designer brands. Half of your closet is Chanel and you sure as hell aren’t complaining.

❥ Not that big on PDA, but will wrap an arm around your waist in public. Since he’s a well-known libero in the Russian Volleyball League, he gets approached on the street sometimes. He doesn’t want to draw too much attention to himself (especially if you hate getting attention from strangers, so he holds off on kissing you until you’re in the privacy of his penthouse apartment.

❥ Pleads and begs until you adopt a cat together. He just wants a cat with you, any cat will do. It can be a cat you found in a dumpster or a cat that cost someone’s entire yearly salary, he just wants a cat to raise with you by his side.

❥ Wraps his arms around your waist as you cook and leave kisses on your neck. Whether you’re taller or shorter from him, get ready for hugs and kisses from behind.

❥ If you struggle with your body image, he’ll kiss away all your insecurities. His lips will be on yours for hours as he tells you how perfect you are, and how much he loves you. He’ll kiss away your tears as you start crying as well, because to him you are perfect.

N$FW

❥ Not very vocal in bed, but he does make plenty of grunts and groans. The only time you’ll ever really hear him moan is when you bite down on his incredibly sensitive neck, which will make him cum on the spot.

❥ Advocate for safe and healthy sex but prefers to hit it raw. He’ll use a condom if you want him to, he isn’t a monster. But the way you react when his cum fills out of your womb makes him want to wife you up and fuck you every single day.

❥ Designer lingerie is his weakness, especially the ones with garters that squeeze your thigh beautifully. If you wear red lingerie around him, be prepared to not be able to walk tomorrow because he will ruin your pussy.

❥ 100% a pleasure dom. Nothing makes him happier than knowing that he fucks you so good each and every night that you can’t even get off without his help anymore because that’s how much he loves to fuck you.

❥ Ass man. His hands will be on your ass all the time and you just have to accept it. He loves to fuck you from behind because he’s mesmerized by the way your ass moves as he fucks you. His favorite position is doggystyle.

❥ A weird turn-on for him is when you walk around wearing his jersey. He fucking loves it when you wear his jersey, and he can see your lacy panties poking out under the shirt, it drives him wild. If you wear his jersey, he gets an instant boner.

❥ Sit. In. His. Lap. Sit in his lap and dry hump him. He needs it so badly. He loves watching as you struggle to get off on his thigh. You look so cute when you’re desperate.

❥ Definitely a brat tamer. He loves it when you have an attitude because he gets to fuck it out of you later, spanking you as he tells you how much of a brat you are and how you need to learn your lesson. You never do.

❥ Mirror sex. He’s mesmerized by how adorable you look in the mirror as your pussy struggles to take his girthy cock.

❥ “Yeah? Look at yourself in the mirror, princess. Look at how your slutty little pussy is taking me. You’re such a little slut, you’re my little slut.”

❥ “Did you think you could just walk around in my jersey and nothing else? Bend over, princess, right fucking now.”

❥ “I’m so fucking close, shit. You want me to cum inside you, princess? Want me to fill you up and give you my babies? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

❥ “Fuck, you know what red does to me. So fucking slutty for me, babygirl. Now get on the bed and spread those legs nice and wide like a good girl.”

❥ “Take it, fucking take it. That’s my good girl. I love it when you behave for me, princess. Can I get another one of you, my love? I think you can handle another orgasm.”

❥ “You look so pretty when you cum, princess. Do you like how your Morisuke makes you feel? Use your words, princess.”

[kinardsevan]

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[monimccoythings]

Alastor x Daughter!Reader III (Platonic)

Yeah, this is going to take place after the end of season 1, just after Sir Pentious has ascended and the hotel has been rebuilt into a bigger better version. I just don't know how to fit Y/N in season 1.

Reminder: Alastor is in Hell for a reason.

TW: This contains a very delicate matter, like PTSD and panic attacks, even though I wanted to keep it brief because I'm not very well versed in these kind of subjects and wanted to be careful and respectful with it, I'm not entirely satisfied with how I wrote it, I researched and looked into my past experiences, but still don't think I truly adapted it as best as I would have liked. Also several mentions of cannibalism. Brief mentions of controlling behavior.

This isn't proof read so sorry for any grammar and/or vocabulary mistakes.

Part I ｜Part II｜Part III (You are here!)

tags: @anonymousewrites, @nonetheartist, @littledolly2345, @sunnyx07, @ouroborostheunholy, @mo-0-o, @sydneyyyya @lbcreations-blog

Soft jazz music enveloped the room, accompained by a strong smell of coffee and magnolias, someone was humming quietly to the music. Somehow, it reminded you of home.

You blinked groggily, trying to get the sleep away from your eyes, and leaned on your elbow. Why was the ground so soft and cushioned?

Yor eyes shot wide open when you remebered the events that led you there. The blood, the laughter, the eyes, the smile, the radio static... Your heart started beating wildly inside your ribcage, and you suddenly found yourself gasping for air. You clutched your old dress, hoping that would alleviate the growing pressure in your chest in some way.

"Well, look who's finally awake!" Alastor left the newspaper on the table and turned towards you, if his grin was supposed to be comforting it was not working. Just the fact that he was acting so casual, as if nothing had happened in the last ninety years made everything a million times worse.

"You are quite the hide and seek champion, ma petite faon. It took several years for my shadows to casually find you and then it took even longer for me to believe you actually had been sent here, ha ha!" His neck bended in an unnatural way as he laughed.

Crap. Did he always know where you were? Was this just a game of cat and mouse for him?

As if he had read your mind, his eyes adopted a more relaxed expression that did nothing to soothe your nerves. "Well, for the last ten years you gave me quite the chase, cher. Always on the move, never stopping, from one part of the ring to the other. And then there's that seven year gap." He muttered to himself that last part.

You still felt on the verge of a panic attack. Your body couldn't and wouldn't stop shaking, and felt like reality was blurring around you. Everything was happening too fast, it brought you back to that night decades ago when you found that your beloved father had actually been a serial killer. It almost felt like it was mere minutes ago.

Alastor knew of your discomfort, your fear. He could see it as clear as a day, he could almost taste it. He had always enjoyed tasting the fear on his victims, but yours only left an aftertaste of bitterness in his mouth. It was rotten, putrid and nauseating. Maybe because it was the only fear he should never had a taste of. Watching you like this also brought him back to the night he lost you.

As he held your unmoving body in his arms, for a couple of seconds his brain stopped functioning, unable to accept what had just happened. The pain he felt was just like someone had ripped his chest open and pulled out his still beating heart, only to crush it, leaving an empty and cold hole in its place.

He had taken you to your room and laid you in the bed, tucking you in. You looked so peaceful, if your face and clothes weren't stained with blood he would have believed you were sleeping. But you would never wake up again.

The next couple of days passed in a blur, tracking down the man who had dared to do this to you and then run away, and giving him his fair punishment. And as he dragged his mutilated body through the forest... Well... the rest is history.

"Anyways! All's well that ends well! Now I found you, and you won't need to worry anymore!" His chirpy radio filtered voice portrayed some genuine happiness that didn't reach you. The bond and trust that used to tie you two together, had been damaged beyond repair. And Alastor knew. That didn't mean he was going to give up, though.

Before he had the chance to make things even more awkward between you two, the door bursted open, revealing several people behind it.

"Oh, you're awake, that's so great! We were all sooo worried since Al suddenly brought you here, and you seemed passed out, we didn't know if you were alive or-" The blonde haired demon kept rambling, but you barely listened to her, way too much in shock. Behind her, there was a bunch of demons: a winged cat who would be rather doing anything else than be there, a tiny cyclops with a psychotic and perky smile; a spider demon who, if anything, looked confused; a taller cyclops demon girl who found the dirt in her nails to be way more interesting than you, and some kind of moth demon girl? You wondered if they all were going to participate in your slaughter or were just going to watch.

"-aaaand who were you again?" The blonde demon asked with an awkward smile.

"I'm very glad you're asking! Because this is no other than my beloved little girl!" Alastor opened his arms widely in a dramatic form of presentation as the sound effect of a studio crowd cheering mixed with his voice.

"Wha- hold the fuck up? Your daughter??? Didn't you sing to Luci-?"

One glare full of murderous intention and loud static was enough for the spider demon to shut up.

"Now, now, how about we let the newest addition to our merry little band have a well deserved rest." Your dad not so gently pushed the uninvited guests back towards the door.

"Addition? Is she our new guest?" The moth-like demon girl asked.

Alastor's face darkened and loud static filled the room. "A҉b҉s҉o҉l҉u҉t҉e҉l҉y҉ ҉n҉o҉t҉.҉". He swapped back to his more charming persona. "She'll be joining our facility as an assistant!" His tone admitted no further questioning, and, quite reluctantly, the staff and guests left the room.

So that's the story about how you ended working in the Hazbin Hotel.

Your work was mainly small chores or helping others. Nifty needed help to clean the rooms? You were there. Someone needed you to take cover at the reception? On it. Whatever tiny task someone needed help with, you had to do it.

You were not allowed to leave the hotel. Alastor made sure of that. Wherever you went, he made sure some of his shadows followed if he was not around, just to keep you controlled; although he'd rather call it, 'lovingly checking on his little baby'. It really was not needed, even if you didn't trust nobody there and your guard was still up, where else would you go? It was literal hell outside.

Years of hiding and living in constant fear of death or something worse had left you extremely mistrustful and fearful of people. There were times were you believed this was all a ruse to lure you into a false sense of security and then hit you were it hurt most.

It's not like you didn't believe in Charlie's dream, it was just you couldn't believe it could be possible, your father had very sincerely stated that he was just sponsoring it because he loved watching doomed souls struggle to achieve something meaningful and then fail spectacularly. Of course he did.

So, at least you had a roof over your head, enough food to eat, and a no-killing rule inside the hotel. Things could be worse.

Yet, there was still something inside you, something that you so desperately tried to let go but were unable to, as it had rooted itself deeply inside your mind and heart.

It started with small things, maybe a loud sound, maybe a bit of blood, it didn't matter because you could already feel yourself breathing heavily and sweating. It was like the entire world vanished around you. You couldn't breath, you couldn't think, your mind was on edge and your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You were completely paralized with fear, your hands shaking furiously, making you drop whatever you were holding.

These episodes started becoming more and more frequent, the more you tried to fight against them, the stronger they became. Whenever Charlie, Vaggie or any guest tried to ask you about them you always tried to brush them off, not wanting them to see it as a weak spot to exploit.

After several episodes and you refusing to open yourself, Alastor had enough of watching you suffer and decided to take matters into his own hands. So, he took you to Rosie.

If you expected something out of a place called 'Cannibal Town' it certainly wasn't that. It looked so... normal, like any other town you would have found back in your time. Well, if you ignored the people eating an entire corspe on the street. Your father gently moved your face to face front, because apparently it was rude to stare.

Oh Rosie immediately adored you. 100% godmother material. That southern belle couldn't wait to pamper you and dress you up in all kinds of fancy clothes.

Talking to Rosie was surprisingly, easy, if you looked over her cannibalistic tendencies. She kindly offered you some fresh fingers, but quickly backed up when she saw you turning green, jokingly saying "Ah, teenagers and their diets."

Sessions with Rosie always left you crying and drained but in a positive way, you felt like a huge load had been lifted off your shoulders. It may be a long road ahead but it was a great start.

Talking to Vaggie also helped. Turns out being a former exterminator had left not only physical but psychological scars on her. The first months after she had been left to die in hell had also been very struggling for her. She helped you with breathing exercises, held your hands when they started shaking, and even was willing to teach you some self defence. Which your dad opposed to.

Charlie was... Charlie, always positive and upbribing but also respecting your boundaries, you were almost starting to belive she was being genuine.

There was another member of the staff who had not been present when you were first brought there and you had yet to meet. The King of Hell himself, Lucifer. Just knowing he could be there send shivers down your spine, wondering what kind of diabolical entity could he be. When you first saw that 4' overly excited manchild, at first you thought it was a joke.

Lucifer took a liking to you pretty easily, much to the annoyance of Alastor. He was curious about how someone as innocent and young as you could have ended in a place like that and vowed to protect you if someone ever gave you trouble. Your dad is seething. "Here, take this." And he just gives you a toy duck who backflips and makes the cutest rubber ducky noise. You loved it. Your dad is about to break the no-killing rule.

Alastor tried to win back your trust and love, even if he knew it was going to be a long and arduous task. He didn't care. He just got you back he was never letting you go.

He may not believe entirely in Charlie's dream, but he knew that if it was possible the one who had more chances to go straight to Heaven would be you. And he was not having that.

Alastor briefly considered making a deal to own your soul, just to ensure your safety and his control.

Up to this day he still doesn't know how you ended down there, and can't wait for the day when you will trust him enough to tell him.

He will respect your boundaries begrudgingly, he is your dad, he knows best. Will play nice and let you take your time with things. He will quietly show support for your emotional progress and make light physical contact, just enough to be supportive and not freak you out.

He cooks for you, and only you. The old homemade grandma's recipes he used to make back in your living times. At first, you didn't trust it, thinking he could have poisoned it. But the second you tasted his Jambalaya you felt like crying. Not only because after ninety years barely eating you were famished, but because for a couple of seconds, something there in the taste and smell had brought you back to simpler times. (like the Ratatouille guy)

Alastor truly desires to hear you call him 'Dad' again, you had yet to do so. Yes, you recognise him as your father, but after everything it just pains you to address him as such. It's like your dad and Alastor were two separate people. The loving father vs the serial killer, the guardian vs the Radio Demon.

He really loves you very much and it's been hard on him to keep that much distance from his little fawn. So he takes out his frustration on others, don't turn the radio on when he tells you not to.

And with time, his efforts were rewarded. Somewhat. You seemed to have gotten a bit more comfortably around him, at least you didn't flinch or recoil anytime he approached you. But you couldn't forget, you couldn't overlook the fact that he was a murderer and a cannibal and still doubted if anything you two had lived together had been truly genuine.

Honestly, it offended him that you would even think that way. Wasn't he there for you, always? Didn't he protect you from the darkness of the outside world during your living times? Wasn't he, as a father, devoted enough to his fawn?

But of course, actions spoke louder than words, and his actions had left too many cracks in your trust. But he will keep trying to win you back. Alastor's very patient demon, he has all the time in the world.

Y̸̗͉̺̱͂̕o̸̧̯̞̟̰̪̗̱̳̱̎̈̿̄̄͛̅͝͝û̴̦͔̹͈̣̥̾͛͑͗͋̅̏̂̚ͅ ̷̭͋̈͛̽͒̅̀̈́́̚ă̷̢̢̖̦͕̞͚͔̻̳̅̇̃͌̿͐̄̃̕r̵̨̢̺̦͇͚̙̈́̅̽́̊͠ę̶̺̖͋̐͐͌͘͠͝ ̶̖̲͎̜̮͚͉̰̒n̵̢͕̝͖̗̜̣̾̾̇̾̅̽͊͘ǫ̴̼̺̠̱̦̘̒̈̎̿̇́̔̉t̴͙͇̼̱̻̦̦͔̖͙̍͌ ̸̩̂́̎͒͘g̶͔͚̰̺͔͉͓͍͔̈́̽̈́͋͘͜o̵̹͔̫͚̼͚͒͑į̷̧̫͔̹͉̰̘̮̍͋͒̈n̸̢͕̙̙̞͔̓͐̓ͅg̵͖͇̜͚̗͙̤̫̱̝̉̂́̚ ̴̪̂͑̓̊͛a̷̖̞͊̄̈́͑͋̈́̄͘n̶̻̟̙̝̪̩͂̋͗ẏ̸̨̛̱̱͇̱͖̤͕̥͛́̍̂͛̕͠w̸̛̖͎̫̑h̵͔̝̣̀ẹ̵̝͍̳̟͚̪̍̒͋̒̀̊̏r̷̨͉͉̒̑̉̒̄̎̓̎͜͝͠ȅ̸̩͇̳.̵̠̪̖̍͂͠.

[lbxbx]

Blackmail 5 | KTH

Pairing: Idol!taehyung x reader

Genre: smut, angst. Five shot

Synopsis: being part of their staff meant you had to be around them all the time, Taehyung has a checklist of all the girls he slept with and filmed and you were next on the list, as he lures you using several ways one of them being actually showing you the content he films, before you finally give in and he actually films you to tick you off of his list. Little do you know it’s the biggest mistake ever.

Disclaimer: events and incidents in this fiction are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. This does not resemble Taehyung’s character whatsoever. taglist: @idkduewhy @wiebouquetbarbarian @tan-veee @pookiej @xstfudaisyx @junecat18 @whipwhops @mother2onsters @lil0u0 @whoa-jo @latinapoetbts

Previous 

Your doorbell rings twice before you rush to open it, your joints still feel loose from the night before and today hasn’t been quite your day, despite it being your weekend, you’re not enjoying your time still trying to recover from last night’s hangover.

You were on the verge of doing something very stupid when alcohol was at its peak in your entire system, but you got lucky, and realized this morning that thankfully nothing happened.

The exact second you open your eyes the next morning you feel instant regret, you want way overboard with drinking to the point of actually falling asleep still in your dress on your couch. Immense pounding headache makes you close your eyes again and frown, you’re extremely sweaty and you need to shower like right now.

You do remember something happening the night before but you can’t pin-point it. It’s something that had to do with Taehyung, but you’re not quite sure what it was. Good god, why is the sun so bright, what time is it?

Your head snaps quickly to your surroundings trying to locate your phone, your neck is stiff from the long sleep on the couch and your back hurts like hell. You end up finding your poor phone thrown down on the floor, and it seems like it spent the night laying there.

Your sore joints don’t help when you stretch your arm over to grab your phone and unlock it, you looked so miserable this morning to the point of face ID barely recognizing you, you have to rub your eyes before looking back onto your screen and finally unlocking it.

And it unlocks straight into a post you wrote the night before and you instantly rewind the tape from last night and what exactly happened. You know you do stupid shit when you’re drunk heavy so it was a little expected for you to do such thing, luckily when you clicked share last night you still had to select an option on where to post the media you selected, you had to choose a platform to post onto.

You let out a breath of relief when you finally make sure that none of the media you selected was posted, you delete the entire post and lock your phone again before getting into the shower and proceeding with your usual morning routine.

“Jungkook? What are you doing here?” You’re standing near your doorstep in utter confusion, you started questioning yourself on when did he figure out your address? But then your call that he drove you here once.

You’re still oblivious over the reason why he suddenly showed up on a Saturday morning. “Can I come in?” A heartwarming smile sits over his face, you invite him in and close the door behind him. “What’s up?” He takes a seat onto your couch.

“Not much, is there anything wrong? Are you okay?” You take a seat on the same couch only a couple seats away from him. “I was driving nearby, I figured I’d come over maybe we could have a chat.”

“Couldn’t this chat wait until Monday?” You ask, and he pauses to look at you feeling a little unwelcomed in your place, which makes you laugh nervously and scratch your temple. “I didn’t want it to sound like that, would you like a drink?”

He shrugs it off right away and answers. “Just water please.”

And as soon as you turn your back and head to your kitchen, Jungkook looks around the place scanning every single corner, memorizing the details around your place just like he was taught, he even gets up onto his feet and walks towards the console under your TV to search into the three drawers.

“Stay out of this Jungkook.” He’s about to leave the room before he gets pulled back by the wrist, “No I can’t stay out of this, just so you know, your stupid kink can not only ruin your career, it could ruin mine too, and I can’t sacrifice everything I worked hard for this past decade just so you could have your own fun.”

Taehyung has his own selective hearing and fully decides on not listening. “Look, you know I want the best for you right?” Jungkook asks which makes Taehyung pay a little attention.

“Yes, and?”

“I’d say you keep your distance from Y/N specifically, she’s after you. And I’m afraid if you’re not careful enough she might just… tell someone, or make a scene, and you don’t want that do you?” The younger genuinely cares about his friend, he’s even frustrated when Taehyung scoffs and immediately argues. “Trust me she won’t. she can’t prove anything. Besides.. I can’t post anything you know that, I’d be harming myself before I harm her, and honestly I could care less about her.”

“We kind of had a chat the other day , I’m pretty sure she said she has something that could possibly ruin your career, I don’t know what exactly, but she does. And I need you to be careful because she’s onto something.”

Taehyung drives Jungkook frustrated when he grabs Jungkook’s arm away from his own wrist and mutters. “Stay out of this Jungkook, I know what I’m doing.”

“Except you’re not.” Jungkook interrupts him right away. “I never thought I would say this, but I’m willing to testify against you if she decides to post anything, Hyung, I thought I’d choose you over her, but now I’d choose my career over you.”

Finally something manages to mess up Taehyung’s mind, Jungkook’s words finally knocked sense into him, “And Taehyung, if anything happens, you’re on your own.” He’s about to leave, but this time he’s the one being pulled by the wrist. “Jungkook wait.”

And the youngest turns towards Taehyung with a knot formed between his brows, “Jungkook tell me what should I do?”

And apparently, this is why Jungkook showed up to your place uninvited just so he can start his so called plan with Taehyung. Jungkook panics and gets back to his seat right away when he hears your footsteps coming back to the living room, he’s never done anything like this before and he’s nervous himself, worried that he’d get caught by you.

“Here you go.” You hand him a glass filled with water and he takes a sip to calm his pounding heart down, “I’m sorry I showed up uninvited, but I figured we could talk and probably help each other out.”

“Help each other?” You get back to your seat, he nods and puts the glass down. “I’ve been thinking about this whole thing with Taehyung, and I just wanted you to know that I’m fully on your side no matter what. He’s been doing this for so long to so many girls and it can’t be right.”

This by the way is totally against Jungkook’s principles, but fuck his principles right now he’s going to try and save his career that could vanish right after Taehyung’s.

“Look I tried so hard to talk him out of it, but he’s really determined to do it, so I figured I’d talk to you, maybe find out what you have against him, we could try and figure out something that could save us both.”  He gets closer to your seat before his hand lands onto your knee. “I care about you Y/N.”

The problem is that he sounds genuine to you at this moment, he’s worried over himself and his own career so this is his last minute decision to try and save it. “Thank you, Jungkook.” A faint smile sits on your face and you put your hand over his. “I have what it takes to end this man, you shouldn’t be worried.”

You feel the physical tension when he suddenly moves even closer and tugs your hair behind your ear before he whispers. “I trust you, Y/N, but we have to work together, and I want you to trust me too.”

“Just leave it to me Jungkook—“ And before you even finish he interrupts. “Shh, I know you can do this whole thing, but Y/N, I can help you keep your job.” He ends up pressing a kiss onto the warm skin of your neck right above your pulse, “Look we don’t have to decide anything right now, you seem a little tense and tired, maybe I can help you relax a bit.”

“I’m okay, I just..” You release a breath when he starts rubbing your shoulders and neck, making your eyes almost shut close. “.. I fell asleep on the couch last night.”

He gasps and clicks his tongue. “You shouldn’t have, that’s why your neck feels all tense.” He climbs up on the couch and wedges himself in between your back and the back of the couch, making you sit between his legs, he collects your hair away from your neck and pulls it to the side. “I was just thinking, that maybe you hand me what you have against him, maybe I could show it to someone without having to post it.”

“Taehyung wanted to post it, maybe we could grant his wish.” Your tongue feels heavy as you speak when he keeps rubbing all your knots, and right after rubbing each one he presses a kiss onto your skin. “Don’t just give him what he wants on a silver platter.” He argues, running his fingers down your covered back, “How did you manage to get your evidence?”

His fingers trace your spine and stop right by the hook of your bra, he leans his chin onto your shoulder and you can feel his breath right by your neck which sends goosebumps all over your body. “I got access to his folders when we spent our last night together.”

“On his iPad?” And you nod right away, he feigns a little giggle before he presses another soft kiss onto your neck, one of his hands running down your thigh. “Gosh have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

This feels a little forbidden to you specially after all you’ve been through with Taehyung, you’re aware that you shouldn’t repeat your mistakes. “Thank you.” You’re about to get up from your seat but he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck. “No please stay.”

“Jungkook this doesn’t feel right.” You whisper as if you’re worried someone might hear you. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since we spent that night together, I kept thinking how much I’d like to have you just for myself.”

And in one quick movement he slides his hand into your shorts and panties to run it over your cunt, ever so gently rubbing your sensitive bud while kissing your shoulder and whispering. “I dreamt about how this cunt would wrap around my dick and take it so well.”

You tried resisting letting out any noise but your body seems to give in even when this feels absolutely wrong, Jungkook has a different touch than Taehyung, his is more gentle and softer, and he could easily give any girl the placebo effect that he adores her even when he’s just touching her to prep her for what’s coming next, while Taehyung was more explicit, his touch was tougher and stronger onto your skin.

“So is it on your phone?”

Something smells fishy to you at this exact second, you open your eyes and clear your throat, it takes you a second to answer. “No, it’s on one of his cameras.”

“So you have it?” He asks.

Could he possibly be here just to set you up? Hundreds of thoughts are all up in your head when you’re trying to figure out what’s the matter, Jungkook isn’t like Taehyung, he can’t be.

You can easily test the theory you have in your head, you’ve already copied the file on your phone so you can easily hand him the camera and still you’ll be one step ahead of him.

“Yeah, but I trust you Kook, you know that right.” You turn your head to look at him and your noses hit, you’re about to pull back but he pulls you in and dares to steal a quick peck from your lips. “You can trust me.”

He notices how different your body language suddenly got which makes him force a laugh. “Friends kiss like all the time, and we’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah sure.” You get up and rush inside your bedroom, Jungkook quickly takes his phone out and sends a voice message to someone, you figure it’s Taehyung when Jungkook speaks. “Consider it done.”

Of course.

Taehyung never had to think and list his priorities regarding this because it basically never backfired, his brain doesn’t function like other people and he’s extremely selfish, he’s willing to do anything just to save himself even if he had to hurt someone. You’re basically a threat to him right now.

He recalls what Jungkook sent him an hour ago, consider it done? Which means you really have something that could ruin his career? Like what? He doesn’t recall you taking any pictures or having any of the clips he filmed, Fuck, Taehyung. Think.

He throws himself down on the nearest chair and buries his face into his palms, the man has an excellent memory, so he tries to recall the nights you two were together, you could’ve possible hid your phone behind something like he does, or you could’ve stolen the date on his iPad or perhaps one of the cameras.

The cameras, his bag of cameras is in the building hidden in one of the lockers, he rushes up from his seat and takes the elevator up to the lockers. And after looking around left and right making sure he’s not spotted by anyone, he fishes out his keychain and unlocks the metal doors of the locker, he takes out the handbag and when the bag keeps being shuffled in his hand, the cameras are clearly heard being mixed into each other.

He puts it down onto the floor and gets onto his knees, how can he make sure that all the cameras are in there when he doesn’t know how many he has in the first place?  But this doesn’t stop him, when it comes to his own benefit he’s willing to do anything, he could try and dig out for the receipts when he bought them but this goes back to years ago, and he uses his cards all the time so it was nearly impossible to find the receipts.

Okay scratch that. He shakes his own head and proceeds to count the cameras, he opens each and every one of the cameras and he finally realizes, that the content from the other night you two spent together doesn’t exist on any of the cameras.

And that night he recalls pressing the record button after his stupid mistake he made when he spent  the night with Jungkook and you, plus he was sober. Could you possibly have one of the cameras?

“Hyung, I got the camera.” Jungkook barges in to the locker room with a tiny go pro sitting in his hand, and finally Taehyung feels a little relieved, totally oblivious that you were able to copy the folders more than once.

“Thank fucking god.” He releases a sigh and grabs the camera from Jungkook and opens it, the folders are still there which makes him a little too sure that you’re no longer able to do anything.

“Please use it wisely, and don’t fuck things up.” The youngest is relieved as well and he leaves the locker room knowing that he’s safe too. Taehyung turns the camera off and shoves it back into the handbag and locks it inside.

Monday morning felt so off for you, you woke feeling nauseated and exhausted, you barely got any sleep the night before and you feel like you’ve reached your dead end. Things can’t get worse than they actually are.

You’re going to try talking to Taehyung like the adult you are for one last time, hoping that he’d go sane or perhaps understand and change his mind, well practically you weren’t too hopeful but of course you’re willing to give it a try.

“Morning!” It makes you flinch at how cheered up Jungkook sounds, you scoff on the inside and fake a smile behind your face mask. “Morning.”

“How are you today?” He puts his bag down and takes his seat. “I’m doing pretty well thanks for asking.” And you walk past him to your destination, mumbling under your mask. “Fucking hypocrite.”

You actually thought this man could be different, but he’s just like his friend, willing to drown anyone just so he can survive.

You reach the makeup station and you roll your eyes when you see Taehyung already seated, they were pre recording something today so you rush yourself and get to work. “Good morning.” He looks at you through the mirror and you answer right away. “Taehyung we need to talk.”

Even when it’s the beginning of the week, the styling room was empty only him and you left alone inside, you had to have a chat with him, he’s a little taken back to see you behaving agitatedly when it’s still morning time, but he can easily guess what you’re about to say.

“Alright.” Taehyung gets up from his chair and closes the door shut before moving back to his seat “What’s up? Why are you being all weird?”

“We need to talk.” Your worried expressions don’t even trigger his fight or flight and he couldn’t care less on why you look so agitated. “Yeah, you stated that earlier, what do you want?”

“I think we should both go on separate ways, we both have a career we should focus on and I think it’s not worth losing it for the stupid thing we did, we both can’t lose what we worked hard on. Now I know you’re not going to post anything and neither will i—“

He high key rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. “Y/N, sweetheart, If anyone is going to lose anything then it’s going to be you, I can’t lose anything. Look, I don’t know why it seems so difficult for you to understand, but you just have to do what I say, and when I call you to spend the night you just come over and that’s it. Doesn’t sound too hard does it? We can make each other feel good.” He makes it sound so easy, but what he doesn’t know is how your self worth is long gone when you’re left on the floor in the middle of his hotel room all soiled and sore and worn out, he doesn’t understand what it feels like to be actually called by him and having to be there because you were forced, just to have him pleased and satisfied, it never mattered to him how you felt, he only thought about himself the entire time.

You too agreed it was sex only and this is a sealed deal, but every time he kissed you and made you feel good, it was his twisted way of making himself feel good, every time he fucked you or went down on you, it was just for himself, he felt good doing it, it didn’t matter how you felt. And even if he eventually found out you faked a performance the last time it wouldn’t probably matter to him, at least it made him feel good and he was left satisfied.

“No.” You give him a solid answer. “Don’t expect anything from me anymore, I’m not willing to give you what you need and I believe you already know other people who can give you the exact same thing, but I can’t anymore.”

“I’m quite sure I already told you, your family and coworkers won’t be happy when they see the clip—“

“Save it Tae, I’m not scared,” You cross your arms too. “Whatever happened between us was a stupid mistake. I wish you can really see how I feel about you, because Taehyung, really, I pity you, and I think you truly need help, there’s nothing half appealing about you anymore, actually it’s the exact opposite, to me you’re someone that being with was just a waste of time, and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever enjoyed my time when I’m with you.”

It hurts his ego for you to tell him this even when he tries to deny it in his head that you mean it, he thinks you’re just saying this to piss him off and just belittle him. He grits his teeth again and you can see his temples growing bigger with each time his jaw tightens, he tilts his head before squinting his eyes. “I know you’re just doing this out of spite, but I don’t have to remind you and show you the video where you literally begged me to fuck you.”

“Again Tae, save it really, I’m watching every move you make, and if you’re going to post the videos just do it, I don’t care anymore, but I want you to know that I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

When normal people feel threatened they’d actually do something to protect themselves even if they had to fake an entire brave persona when they could nearly shit their pants, and that was the normal behavior for someone like you, but Taehyung’s career is jeopardized right before his eyes and he’s standing still with a straight face not even blinking, totally careless about everything you’re saying.

It doesn’t take you twenty minutes to finish working on his face, it felt like twenty hours with all the tension in the room, and whenever someone walks in they’d either question on why the door was closed on you two, or questioning what’s wrong when they can easily sense the electrocuted atmosphere in the tiny room.

Once you’re over you and Taehyung get back to the practice room to start filming whatever they had to film and you take a seat, you clearly see Taehyung and Jungkook talking in the corner and you know it’s about you when Jungkook tries to avoid looking into your eyes.

“Did you give him the camera?” Your voice rings across the practice room, you stand behind them, Jungkook crossing his arms and facing you fully.

“Who do you think you are?” Taehyung gets defensive as he walks towards you with a smirk on his face, “I knew about the camera all along, Y/N, I’m not that stupid, I know that you stole it.”

You have nothing to lose anymore so you giggle and nod. “Mhm, yeah, I’m pretty sure your friend retrieved it back for you.”

“I’ll give it back and you can consider this a gift, you can keep it, and to prove to you that I’m not afraid, I’m willing to show your videos to everyone.” He takes another step closer, his scent that you personally find repelling is wafting up your nose. “Let them see how much of a great performer you are.”

“Maybe they can see their favorite idol performing too.” You challenge him. After all you still don’t want anything to be posted for your own sake too. “I’ve got nothing to lose Taehyung, but you have everything to lose.”

And in a blink of an eye, the sore loser closes the space between you two and grabs you by the wrist tightly right in front of everyone, and with his tightened jaw and reddening face he whispers. “You have nothing to prove sweetheart, and you’re wrong. I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook stands between you two and tries his best to push his friend away, but the firm grip was really tight around your wrist to the point of hurting you. “Get away from me.”

“Y/N, you don’t have to do this.” Jungkook who’s shielding you looks behind his shoulder. “Let us discuss this like adults.”

“Oh fuck off you’re no different than him.” You glare at Jungkook still trying to escape Taehyung’s grip.

Taehyung isn’t doing his best right now and his brain was completely fogged by hatred, he’s now positive you’re hiding other things from him and he’s getting furious by the second, he’s getting the taste of his own medicine.

Around the practice room there were several people who are now watching Taehyung’s behavior that they’re not so familiar with. “Prove it, show me what you have against me.” And his grip is getting tighter and he’s being louder than before.

“Taehyung stop.” Jungkook seems embarrassed by Taehyung’s behavior.

They’re usually so secretive about their personal lives and their staff aren’t used to seeing them being like this, they always tried so hard to isolate their lives and their personal problems but right now it’s a show for everyone to see.

Your heart races and through the rush of adrenaline you pull your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. “Looks like you are afraid after all.”

“I’ll fucking end you, Y/N.”

“Not before I end you,  Kim Taehyung.” And finally you click post.

“Y/N, don’t—“ Jungkook tries and his attempt ends up failing.

The entire media is finally out for everyone to see, this is your only way to get your revenge at him.

People can now see how Taehyung degrades women in bed and humiliates them using his sick and twisted ways, they can finally see the true man he is. And not only you published the clips you had in your hand, you also managed to dig into the folders of your phone and find the nudes he sent you back during the tour, and it’s quite obvious that it’s him, It’s Kim Taehyung in the photos and in the videos.

Taehyung never saw this coming, he always thought he had control, he never imagined that he’d taste his own medicine this way. Not only did you show people his true personality, you managed to do something to the career he never thought he could damage or even lose.

Around the practice room the atmosphere was quite tense and stressed, but around the building people were going insane, continuous calls and paper work trying to do anything to hide this or even deny it, the headquarters are in shock knowing that the idol they trained and known since he was a young kid grew up to be this kind of person. They gave him everything he wanted, why in hell is this happening?

The social media has gone crazy and people are reposting and the post has now gone viral to everyone, it sucks that even with evidence people seem to still defend him, people are still trying hard to prove that this isn’t their idol, this can’t be their idol, but it is.

The image he painted for his fans is ruined by every second longer your post stays up, and frankly there’s not an ounce of regret inside you, this person deserves it, goodness he even deserves worse.

Back in the practice room it’s as if time froze, everyone’s phones started beeping and buzzing texts and calling, and monotonously they all pick up their phones and manage to read the news, whether it’s emails or even relatives asking if it was true? Some even having their families calling to tell them to get away and quit their jobs.

Girls around the practice room who’ve been in your place somehow feel relieved that it’s not only them, the man they despised finally got the end he deserved.

“You should’ve thought about this before you started it Taehyung.” You try to escape his grip but it only tightens, you look him up in the eyes and he dares to smirk even when his career is almost over. “Don’t come crying later, Y/N.” And he finally takes his hands off of you to leave the practice room, you look around the practice room to see everyone watching you with terrified faces.

You convince yourself that you shouldn’t panic, but you’re slowly starting to, it’s quite a fine line between regret and panic right now and you can’t identify which one is it.

“You must have lost your mind.” Jungkook finally faces you. “You shouldn’t have done this.”

“Oh how I wish the night I spent with you was caught on camera, I would’ve ended you in fucking seconds Jeon Jungkook.” Your chest is heaving and your heart is pounding, it feels like you were running for miles, and as much as you tried having respect and self control to not slap him in the face, you couldn’t. “Just fuck off Jungkook, turns out you’re exactly like him.” His eyes meet yours for one last time before he turns his back and leaves the practice room.

“What have you done, Y/N?” Mira asks, you clear your throat and try to talk but nothing seems to be able to escape your mouth, you’re sweating and stuttering hoping you’d come up with some sort of sentence but zero.

You knew it could backfire to you but you never thought how it would, you’re practically alone in Seoul and you have no one to stand with you, it’s basically you, against Taehyung and the entire world. Even the girls who were hurt by him, they never thought it would get serious, and most of them are now worried, what if the videos they were in got published? They’d be in trouble too.

You’re having second thoughts, you probably should’ve given up and just let him do whatever he wants, maybe you shouldn’t have sought for revenge, But he wronged you, of course you have to seek for revenge, he deserves it.

Fuck, you’re looking around, the girls are no longer satisfied with what you did, they look like they hold grudge against you now, but you practically helped them.

Could you possibly be the only one wrong? Could they be right? It’s getting complicated by the second.

“Y/n?” Their manager enters the practice room and you hold your breath, you can feel your heart beating against your back and pounding into your chest. “They want you upstairs.”

-

 It’s been almost four hours around the meeting table and you’ve never seen anything like this, it’s too much paperwork for you and people are talking endlessly, you’re too lost to keep track of what they’re saying, but it seems like they’re talking about lawyers and lawsuits.

Even when you can barely process what they’re saying, still you were able to “try” and defend yourself, but they did end up taking down the post.

Your train of thoughts is interrupted by a stack of papers landing in front of you. “Sign those.”

“What’s that?”

“Your resignation papers. You no longer work here.”

“But he deserves to be punished too, I was forced to sleep him just like the other girls were forced too.” you try to deny but it’s a lost cause at this point. They were all seeking for his protection, after all he matters way more than you do.

“Just sign it Y/N.” They hand you a pen and you end up signing anyway. Apparently this is your only way to end everything, this blackmail was the worst thing that ever happened to you, but even when it costs your job, you still were able to show Taehyung’s true colors to the world.

It’s getting suffocating around the meeting room  so you rush things to get over with and just leave, the world feels so small around you and you’ve never felt like this, it sucks big time that the career you actually imagined staying in is now completely over. You can’t deny that you wish none of this happened, you regret it a little now.

You collect your bag and leave the meeting room, you have so many things around the building that you need to collect that belong to you so you rush upstairs to the dressing rooms and pack your stuff, and you can’t not notice every set of eyes that’s been watching you pack quietly for the next 20 minutes, it does make you tense a little so you look up to meet their eyes. “I know what you’re all thinking.”

You’re looked at in pure pity and it hurts to your core, the other week people respected you and enjoyed your company but today they’re all afraid to even talk, it hurts that the girls you enjoyed working with stare at you like that which makes you sulk. “I did this all for you, for us, I did what you girls never dared to do.”

You sigh when they turn their heads away and move on with their day and you finish collecting your stuff, it’s all over now.

Right when you’re about to turn and leave the dressing room, you feel a hand wrapping around your wrist so you turn to see Luna, who’s looking at you with the same look of pity, her mouth slightly opens before she sighs in frustration. “You shouldn’t have done it.”

“Luna I—“

“Before you say anything, have you seen the media?”

“Yeah, I know, and I did it on purpose, he was after all of us.” You argue, she tilts her head and argues back. “What are you talking about? It’s all denied, Taehyung is innocent.” You feel your eyelids getting heavier, and it feels like someone dumped a bucket of cold water all over your shoulders and back.

You’re in denial that your entire body stops functioning, your head is shaking left and right subconsciously. “No.”

But she was right.

You lost your job for nothing, and honestly what were you expecting? Kim Taehyung is considered an international icon, of course they’d think you’re making rumors. Once your post was published it was taken down in less than ten minutes, and if you even bothered to pick up your phone and scroll through the media, it’s like nothing happened.

People are totally unbothered and it drives you insane, no one even reposted anything or tried to look through the evidence you posted, they’re all on his side even if they saw everything right before their eyes.

“I’m sorry Y/N, you should’ve thought this through.” It’s the same look of pity on her face. “He’s Kim Taehyung, he has people for everything.”

-

You had to wait a couple of minutes by the elevator door hoping that it’d stop any time soon, the box you were carrying was extremely heavy, you feel your arms and fingers cramping and you’re no longer able to hold the box,  your body is barely able to hold its own weight so you cannot wait to get home.

Just when the elevator doors open and you step in you drop the box and all your stuff splatter on the floor, you fall onto your knees and begin collecting your stuff back onto the box, the elevator doors got too impatient and they immediately closed and you forgot to press the button to the ground floor, and you don’t realize that until you’re half way through the box and it feels like the elevator is not moving.

You’re about to get up onto your feet to click the button but the doors open on their own, and fucking Kim Taehyung enters the elevator. He’s the last person you’d want to see right now.

The first couple of seconds are completely silent but you can feel his eyes on you when he sees you down onto your knees, he puts his hands into his pockets and clicks the button down to the parking lot before the elevator doors close again.

He laughs quietly and watches you for a second before deciding to spit out words that remind you that you shouldn’t feel guilty at all. “Didn’t expect to see on your knees this soon.”

You brace yourself and bite your own tongue to avoid talking back to him because really you’re seconds away from beating him up.

“You know Y/N, I really admire how brave you are.” He starts and you roll your eyes, collecting the last few items and putting them into the box, before getting back up onto your feet. “I know you don’t believe me but I truly do.”

You look up hoping the numbers would go down faster because you can’t tolerate a second longer with him.  “You know what’s the difference between you and me?”

This time he turns to face you and takes a step closer, tugging your hair behind your ear and inhaling your scent for the last time. “You and I are both sluts, but the only thing different between me and you is that I have someone to cover up for me and clean up shit after me, and you don’t.”

You turn and finally face him again with denial, he can’t be a true human being with a heart, you’ve never seen someone like this man, you had a little faith in him that he might actually be nice after all, you thought he’d been taught a lesson after all this that happened but no, he’s both careless and heartless it shocks you.

“You thought you’d win, I feel kinda bad for you.” He sighs, “I warned you, I’ll always be one step ahead of you Y/N.”

This is Kim Taehyung.

The one you met years ago no longer exists, the new whole different version of him now exists and he feels like a fucking epidemic. And even when you lost your job, and the future you had planned for is now long gone too, at least you’re no longer around him.

And even when you couldn’t make justice with your story, someone else will and they’ll get him eventually.

[janeyseymour]

Love Thy Neighbor, Family Matters- pt 2

Summary: the procedure, and the aftermath.

Part 1.

*full disclosure i wrote most of this hammered, like absolutely obliterated, so it is entirely unedited but. i hope u still love her*

WC: ~2.8k

“You know we can’t make a baby of our own, right?” Melissa chuckles as you practically pounce on her once you’re parked in your driveway. “That we are indeed lacking a… , and Ellie is inside probably waiting for us to come in and cuddle her.”

You just continue to kiss her hungrily, wherever you can.

“Babe,” your wife hums. “Hun. We- we have to go inside.”

You groan but right yourself as you climb off of her. “Once she’s in bed tonight.”

“Once she’s in bed,” the redhead agrees softly. She kisses you passionately, just once, before climbing out of the car. She makes her way to your side and opens the door for you. The two of you enter the house quietly, and you can hear ‘Inside Out’ playing from your living room. Melissa kicks off her shoes, as do you, before making your way into the house.

The sight before you makes your heart swell. Gerald has his arm around his own wife while Barbara holds your daughter tight in her lap. Ellie is on the verge of sleep as she leans into Barb’s warmth, but her eyes light up when she sees you.

“Hey, Ellie girl,” you say softly as you make your way over to the couch. Melissa follows and takes a seat next to her work wife.

“Were you good for Auntie Barb?” your wife asks as she brushes a few stray hairs out of the girl’s face.

Your daughter hums softly and reaches for you both. “Moms.”

“Someone’s tired,” you chuckle quietly as you take your little girl into your arms and press a few kisses to her face.

“El was perfect as always,” Barbara states. “We had a wonderful dinner before heading down to the park. She was showing us her gymnastics and dance before we decided to come home and watch a movie.”

“That sounds like such a nice night,” you smile. Ellie nods into your neck.

“How was dinner?” the kindergarten teacher asks, a glimmer in her eyes. She knows what Melissa was presenting you with tonight. 

You look at wife with such love in your eyes. “It was perfect.”

Melissa just gives you the same look as she begins to rub slow circles on Ellie’s back. “Dinner with my beautiful wife is always perfect.”

“Your conversation went well?” Barb presses quietly.

“Yes,” the two of you sigh at the same time.

“I’m going to take our little girl up,” you mumble against hair that matches your own. “But feel free to stay for a glass of wine. I’ll be back down in five.”

You whisk Ellie up the steps and tuck her into bed, kissing her forehead as she reaches for one of the many stuffed animals that lays on her bed. You watch her for a few seconds before flicking on her favorite night light and closing the door.

You expect the three adults to be sitting on the couch with glasses of wine, but instead they’re in the kitchen. You make your way in with soft eyes as you see your wife with a bottle hand.

Melissa is just about to pop a bottle of champagne and is telling the Howards how dinner went.

“Does Ellie know?” you ask your wife. You know she tends to run things by the younger girl before approaching you about family decisions like this.

Melissa shakes her head. “I figured we shouldn’t get her hopes up… in case it doesn’t

end up happening.”

“It will,” Gerald states with certainty. “Barbara and I will pray over the two of you, and god will give you another sweet soul to love and cherish for the rest of your days.”

Your wife smiles as she pops the cork and pours the bubbly into four champagne flutes. 

“Enjoy this while you can,” the redhead teases.

You roll your eyes playfully but nod as you kiss her cheek. “Oh, I will. And then for the time that I am carrying our child, I will be forcing you to drink the things that I like so I can live vicariously through you.”

The drinks are passed out, and then there is a small toast and clinking of glasses. Barbara bows her head and prays quickly, and then she smiles. “I just know the lord will give you a beautiful and healthy little babe.”

Melissa just chuckles as she raises a brow at you. “Yeah?”

“You’ll be drinking seltzers for days,” you shrug.

After a few months of monitoring your health and keeping track of your cycle a bit more closely, the day that you go for your first treatment, you once again have Barbara and her husband look after your little girl. She’s a little confused as to why the kindergarten teacher is taking her home after a day of school and not the two of you, but she doesn’t really question it. She’s just excited that she gets to spend time with one of her favorite aunties.

“We’ll come pick you up at Auntie Barb’s,” you promise your daughter as she heads off to her own classroom that morning. “Be good, yes?”

“I always am, Momma!” Ellie tosses over her shoulder as she exits. 

She stops into Melissa’s room on the way down. “Have a good day, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you too, sweetheart,” your wife smiles softly. “Now get to class before I have to call your teacher again and tell her you’re on your way.”

“I’m never late,” the fifth grader giggles.

“It’s never marked as late because Momma or I always call your teacher to let her know you’re on your way.” Green eyes are rolled playfully. “Now get outta here and upstairs.”

“Yes, Sir Mom,” Ellie cheekily turns back around to mock salute her mother. Then she runs off giggling.

The day passes slowly, and you’re not exactly thrilled at how slowly the day seems to go by. But finally, you’re standing outside with Melissa during dismissal, Ellie bounces up to both of you and happily chats your ear off about her day in fifth grade, and then you’re dropping her at Barb’s classroom door.

“We should be able to pick her up by six,” your wife tells her best friend.

The kindergarten teacher just waves you off. “The two of you should take your time. Have dinner.”

Walking into the doctor’s office, Melissa holds your hand and squeezes it as a silent reminder that she is going to be here for you through it all. The procedure is done, you lay there for about half an hour, and then you’re able to head out.

“Do you think it worked?”

“Barb is a straight line to Jesus,” your wife chuckles softly. “If it didn’t, you know that woman will be having a word with God himself. And then, we’ll just keep trying.”

“You would do that?” you ask quietly as you begin to walk hand in hand down the street.

“Of course.” She pulls you in close, wrapping an arm around your waist as you shuffle away from the office. “But for now, let’s just have a nice dinner and try to relax. The doc said low stress, and I intend on keeping you as stress-free as possible.”

“You’ll have a glass of wine for me at dinner?” you chuckle.

Your wife rolls her eyes but nods. “If that’s what you want.”

Two weeks later, Melissa hands you a pregnancy test. With a nervous glance, you head into the bathroom.

You pee on the stick, and then you sit there in absolute silence as you pray that the word ‘positive’ will be staring back at you in five minutes. Melissa keeps your daughter occupied while you sit on the toilet in a puddle of your own sweat and anxiety.

You come out of the bathroom with the stick in your hand, shaking slightly.

“El, can you go pull on your shoes so we can head to the park?” you ask your daughter gently, and the tone in your voice doesn’t tell your wife what the result of the test was.

“We’re going to the park?” your little girl’s eyes light up.

You chuckle softly. “Just like we do almost everyday that we can. Go on now.”

Ellie runs off, and almost immediately Melissa’s hands are in your sweatshirt pocket. She pulls out the test and glances at it. The word negative is staring back at the two of you, and your heart sinks just as it did when your first saw that one word printed so clearly on the digital test.

“It- it didn’t work,” you whisper softly as you look down at your feet. “I’m sorry.”

Warm arms are around your waist. “You have nothing to apologize for at all, mi amore. We’ll try again soon, and we’ll do everything that we can to increase the chances.”

You shrug. “What if it just wasn’t meant to be? I mean… Ellie was a happy accident.”

“We’ll get there,” your wife promises you softly as she leans in to kiss you. “We will.”

You go to respond, but Ellie’s voice floats into the living room. “Moms? Are you coming?”

“We’re coming, lovey,” you call back as evenly as you can. You shove the test back into your pocket. “C’mon. We can’t forget about that little gift from God we have waiting for us.”

That night, Ellie curls up in bed with you, exhausted from running around with her sweet friends at the park. She falls asleep rather quickly, but your mind is racing. Eventually, your wife begins to sing a soft tune in Italian that lulls you to sleep.

When you wake, your daughter is still holding onto you tightly as she sleeps nearly on top of you. Peeling your eyes open, you see that Melissa isn’t next to you. Sundays are days that she usually wakes early and heads to church, and you suppose this time is no different.

Your wife is nearly in tears as she pulls into the parking lot, only to be met with Barbara Howard.

“Melissa!” the kindergarten teacher strides up to the car. “Where’s Ellie with you this morning?”

“I decided to let her sleep in with Y/N,” Melissa mutters quietly. “Y/N needs her little girl right now.”

“And why would that be?” Barb asks.

The redhead looks up to her friend. “The uh, it didn’t work. She ain’t pregnant.”

The devout Christian’s face drops, as does Gerald’s. “She isn’t?”

The redhead just shakes her head. “I came here… to pray.”

Barbara grabs her best friend’s hand and leads her to the back pew. Silently, the three of them bow their heads and pray. They pray for a beautiful life to join the Schemmenti family in the next year. They pray that you will be healthy throughout, and that whatever sweet soul you bring into this world is happy, healthy, and safe. They pray that it doesn’t take too long, because they know that you can become doubtful and insecure. They sit through the sermon, finding peace in what the priest has to say, before they head out.

“Would you care to join us for brunch?” Gerald offers.

But Melissa just shakes her head. “I should probably just head home. Make sure that Ellie and Y/N are doing okay.”

The two of you throw yourselves into being the best parents that you can be for Ellie as a distraction from the failed attempt. If the lord hasn’t gifted you with a baby yet, you might as well be the best mothers that you can be for the little girl that you’re already so blessed to have. 

That is… until two weeks later, when you wake up incredibly nauseated and dizzy on a Saturday- the day that you usually take Ellie out for breakfast, spend the day soaking up the sun at the park, and then Melissa cooks out if it’s a nice enough day.

You think that the spell has passed when it suddenly hits you again, and you bolt to the bathroom.

You’re only in there for about thirty seconds before you feel your wife’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

With a heavy sigh, once you feel that you’re finished, you flush the toilet and lean back against Melissa.

“That was awful,” you groan.

The redhead just hums and reaches under the sink to grab the mouthwash. She pours a bit in the lid for you to swig.

“I hate throwing up.”

“Hopefully it’s just a quick bug that gets out of your system quickly,” Melissa tells you softly. She kisses your temple. “C’mon, hun. Back to bed for you.”

“But El-”

“Can hang with me today while you rest,” your wife tells you pointedly.

Grumbling about how you’re fine, you stumble your way back into your bedroom and curl up under the blankets, the dizziness still present. Melissa gently lays back down next to you. Her warm arms wrap you up, and you feel her press a quick kiss to the nape of your neck.

You must fall asleep, because the next time you open your eyes, the house is still. Your wife must’ve taken Ellie down to the park. Thank God your nausea has subsided, and you head back into the bathroom.

As you open the drawer to grab your hairbrush, you see one of the unused pregnancy tests. You pull it out and hold it for a few seconds before all but ripping the test from the packaging. 

Five minutes later, the word in big bold letters is staring back at you. Pregnant. In shock, you reach for another. That one also screams the word at you- in less than the five minutes that it’s supposed to.

Y-you’re pregnant. You aren’t sick with a stomach bug. You’re carrying a child. Tears of joy begin to pour down your face as you hold those two sticks.

Melissa. You have to tell Melissa.

But she’s out with Ellie. Immediately, you reach for your phone and dial her number.

“Babe?” she picks up on the second ring. “How are you feelin’ hun?”

“I need you to come home,” you rush out. “Please.”

Melissa stammers out a few syllables before sighing. “Yeah, okay. I’m just gonna drop El with Nonna, and then I’ll-”

“Why is she going to Nonna’s?”

“She called me while we were walking down to the park, and I mentioned you being sick. She said she would whip up something for you and take our girl for the night so I can take care of you.”

“Okay, okay,” you hurry out. “Just… be quick about it, please?”

“Are you really not feeling well?”

“I need my wife, dammit!”

About ten minutes later, you hear the two enter the house. Melissa tells Ellie to pack her bag quickly while she checks on you. You’re back in bed, watching some trash television as you scroll through Amazon to start looking at items you may need for the baby.

She presses a soft kiss to your head as she sets down a mug of peppermint tea for you. “How’re you feelin’, mi amore?”

You just shrug your shoulders as you close out of the shopping app. It takes everything in you to not tell her right now.

“El is packing a bag now, and then I’ll be back to take care of my sickly wife.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” you ask softly as you lean into her touch gently.

“I ask myself that same question about you and Ellie girl every damn day.”

The two head out not much later, and then Melissa is back. She announces her entrance as she kicks her shoes off in the foyer, and then she calls to you that she’s just going to put down the pot of soup that Nonna had made for you.

You leap out of bed, grab the tests, and rush out into the kitchen. Your wife hears you before she sees you, and you all but jump into her arms.

“I see someone is feelin’-” You shove the tests into her hands as soon as she’s put the crockpot on the counter. Her eyes go wide as she looks at them both, and then they fill with tears, much like yours had.

“So, you don’t-”

“I’ve never been so happy to be throwing up!” you giggle.

“Baby, are you- are you serious?” Melissa’s eyes sparkle with happy tears as she looks to you.

“The proof is in the pudding!” you tell her as you wrap your arms around her neck.

She kisses you soundly before pulling back just slightly and wiping away the stray tears that have escaped.

“I’m going to be a mother,” she whispers, and her voice breaks just slightly as her hands wander down to your still flat stomach.

“You already are,” you correct her gently. “To our sweet Ellie girl, and now to this beautiful little baby that will be joining us.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo

[her-satanic-wiles]

October 26th

Masturbation, Phantom x Cardinal Reader

Masterlist ⛧ The Cardinal Masterlist

Words: 2.3k

Warnings: Masturbation; mutual masturbation; caught masturbating; sub!Phantom (because I just can’t help myself, boy needs putting in his place); panty sniffing; degradation kink; squirting; finger sucking; cum eating; praise kink;

Taglist: @sodoswitchimage @enchantedbunny @bitchywitchygardener @thew0man @sodomiser @the-did-i-ask @copias-sewer-rat @gehrmansbignaturals @deetz-ghuleh @onlyhereforghost @zombiesnips-blog

This is a continuation of the previous Phantom fic because I actually think about that daily… this is my Roman Empire right now… Also, I listened to THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND by Bad Omens on repeat when I wrote this so… do with that information what you will…

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Your day had been absolutely wonderful. You had the best night’s sleep, which bled into the most delicious breakfast, followed by a slow work day where you were able to catch up on all of your work and even start a new book all before lunchtime. And lunch was delectable, too. The kitchen had put on an array of delicious foods at the buffet this time, with bruschetta topped with fresh tomatoes, basil, and olive oil; arancini balls (of which you devoured several); fettuccine Alfredo amongst many others. It was very rare that Satan had blessed you with the most perfect of days, but you were thankful nonetheless. And even somewhat excited to get home, put your feet up and relax.

Your Ghoul, Phantom, had a separate schedule that he had to attend to today, which was, perhaps, the only negative part of such a perfect day. But, he was still in training after all, despite how much work you put his way as his Cardinal.

You took your heels off at the door as you entered your chambers, sighing in relief at the way your feet were now able to flatten out and stretch. You poured yourself a glass of water and stood in the kitchen, contemplating your next move when you heard it.

There was a faint grunting coming from your bedroom, behind a closed door that you know you left open when you left your place that morning. You could recognise those whimpers if you were blindfolded and threatened that your life would end. Phantom was in your room, and he wasn’t behaving as he should be. Quietly, you moved to your bedroom and slowly opened the door, making absolute sure that he wouldn’t notice you were there.

You opened the door the whole way, but his eyes were so tightly shut he had no idea you were there. He lay, sprawled out on your bed, completely naked including his mask, each item of clothing thrown carelessly around your room in his desperation to get his hand on his cock. One of his hands was wrapped around his beautiful length, stroking it perfectly and just the way he liked, slick with his spit and focussing on the sensitive, pink head. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth in a feeble effort to stay as quiet as he could so he wouldn’t alert you to his presence just in case you came home earlier than expected, but it didn’t stop his pathetic whimpers from spilling out in between the short, sharp inhales. In his other hand was a pair of your panties, the exact pair you took off the night before when he was with you, deep inside you, whimpering as he was now. Those panties were damn near attached to his nose, he refused to move the gusset the entire time he was stroking his cock.

You were wondering what he was thinking about - the first time you both had sex, perhaps? When you took him in your office, stood on his cock and made him submit to you until he bent out of shape and broke at your very whim? Or maybe he was thinking about the night before, how you let him take you from behind and pretend that he was in charge… though that didn’t last long. Poor baby had no idea how to dom though he tried. It all came to naught when he was on the verge of cumming and begging for permission to do so, whining in your ear as all doms do, of course. Though, you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on to hear that immediate switch from “strong man” to “needy, subby bitch”.

His hips bucked the harder he pumped, and his moans became louder and louder. You even heard little whimpers of, “Cardinal!” as he played with himself - no doubt imagining whatever fantasy he’d concocted since the two of you played with each other regularly. You could feel arousal pooling in your cunt, wetness flooding your core with each lewd sound of his cock as he jerked it rougher and rougher until you decided to act and alert him to your presence with a clearing of the throat.

The look of fear and panic on his face almost had you drooling. He sat up immediately, launching himself off the pillows and throwing your panties across the room. His hand did what it could to cover his cock from you, but it was too late. The damage had already been done and he knew he was in for it now.

“Little slut couldn’t wait for his Cardinal to come home and take care of him, hm? Had to use my panties to get himself off.”

“Cardinal! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Cardinal! Please forgive me.”

You propped yourself up on the dresser. “Okay.”

Your nonchalance and unbothered demeanour was uncharacteristic to say the least, and it unnerved Phantom more than he could possibly say. At this point, you would be finding a way to punish him, making him suffer for his disobedience. He walked into your room, stole your used panties, and was touching himself on your bed - all of which without your permission. “O-okay?”

“Okay.”

He hated this. “That’s it?”

“You wanted more?”

“Well, I expected-”

“Oh right, yes. You wanted to finish didn’t you?”

“Cardinal?”

“Go ahead. Lie back, little prince. Finish yourself off.”

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course. Tell me, what were you thinking about?”

He was now on his knees at the foot of the bed, about a metre away from you. His hand, tentatively, wrapped around his aching cock, still very much suspicious of you but desperate to touch himself. He’d be lying if he didn’t find this hot, though - the idea of him stroking himself while you watched him; his beautiful Cardinal whose eyes were fixated on the way his hand stroked over himself.

“Tell me, little prince,” you repeated, eyes trained exactly where he wanted them, “what were you thinking about?”

“Y-you, Cardinal. I was thinking about you.”

“Specifically?”

“When you tied me up… t-took what you wanted. How your pussy felt good around me.”

You lifted your legs and hooked the heels of your feet onto the edge of the dresser. You lifted your robes up and revealed your panty-clad cunt, the fabric soaked from watching your little plaything touch himself. You moved the gusset to the side, and allowed him the privilege of looking at your slicked folds. “This pussy?” You asked.

“Oh fuck.” He began stroking himself harder. “Cardinal.”

He reached forward to touch you, not that he’d be able to reach at that distance anyway, but it didn’t matter. He wanted to, and that was enough for you. You kicked your leg forward, swiping his hand away from you with your foot. “Ah, ah! Bad boys don’t get to touch.”

There it was. There was his punishment. The one thing he wanted the most right now, the thing he could see plainly right in front of him, but couldn’t have. You were playing a dangerous game - dangling the steak in front of the lion and expecting it not to bite. But then, lions weren’t the strongest in the Pride; Phantom was toothless and he knew it.

You didn’t miss how much faster his hand moved over his cock as you exposed yourself to him; the way his mind moved a million miles a minute as it comprehended just what you were doing to him. His heart rate spiked when he saw your hand move lower…

Lower…

Lower…

A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers made contact with your clit, your head tipping backwards and mouth falling open with each stroke. Your eyes closed at the feeling as the rest of your face contorted in a peaceful bliss at the relief you were finally giving yourself. Touching yourself instead of him touching you was almost just as much torturous - except your sadistic side was singing at the suffering you were bringing him. Sweet, kind, funny, intelligent, naughty Phantom, kneeling at the foot of your bed, completely naked, foaming at the mouth at the sight of your core and tormented by the fact he can’t touch it, lick it just the way you liked.

You chuckled at the sight of his pathetic, dumb little face, fixated on the movements of your hand, matching his stroking with yours. The way his mouth hung open in concentration and his pupils had blown out, removing any colour from his irises. He needed you so fucking badly, his whimpers and moans just confirmed what you already knew.

“Your hand feel good, Phantom?” You taunted.

“No. I want your cunt, Cardinal. Your cunt would be better. Please.”

“It would be better. So tight, and warm, and wet.” You dipped your fingers inside. “Oh yeah, so fuckin’ tight.”

“Fuck.”

You tapped up, hitting your g-spot with each movement and causing genuine moans to fall out of your mouth. His hips bucked at the sound of your fingers sploshing through your wetness, the same wetness he could practically taste on his tongue. All the times he’d been buried between your thighs with your pussy hanging off his tongue.

“I’m sorry, Cardinal.” He confessed, words slurring with the lack of concentration. His focus on your fingers turned his brain to mush. “I’m sorry. Please. Please let me touch you. I’ll be a good boy, I promise.”

“You always - fuck - promise to be a good boy.” You pulled your fingers out and spread your wetness around your clit, furiously rubbing at the button. “You t-tell me you’ll be a good boy then go and - shit - go and do shit like this.”

“Cardinal, please!”

“No. You - fuck I’m close! You’re gonna watch me cum on my fingers. You get to watch me pl-please myself. If you’re good I might let you - oh fuck, I’m cumming!”

You came hard, your juices spurting out of your as you did and pooling on the dresser, sploshing on the floor dramatically and dripping off the wood when the stream had finally stopped. The sheer power of your orgasm knocked the wind out of you, forcing your free hand to grip onto the dresser in an effort to ground yourself. And you watched through blurred vision as Phantom fucked into his hand desperately, tongue escaping from behind his lips as if he could catch the droplets and drink them down.

When he saw that you were coming down, he piped up again, his voice breaking the silence. “Cardinal, please. I’ve been so good for you. I wanna cum, please let me cum. Please, Cardinal.”

“Little prince wants to cum, hm?” You pushed yourself off the dresser, your fingers still covered in your cum. Those fingers you moved towards him, holding them out so his mouth could finally reach them, but pulling away just as his lips were about to wrap around them.

“C-Cardinal!”

You laughed cruelly and cupped his chin, trapping it between your index finger and thumb, forcing him to look at your face rather than the cum dripping off your digits. “Pathetic little whore, desperate for my leftovers. You want to taste me, hm? Beg for it. Make me believe you want to.”

“I want your cum in my mouth,” he said, words rushed and desperate, “I want to taste you. I want to lick up your cum, please let me. Please let me clean your fingers. I’d lick it off the fucking floor if you’d let me. Please.”

“Oh, now there’s an idea. Not today, little prince. But… you think that was good enough?”

Tears began forming in his eyes. “Cardinal, please!”

“Good boy.” You moved your fingers to his mouth. “Take your reward.”

His free hand gripped onto your wrist to stop you from moving away as he sucked your fingers into his mouth. His eyes rolled back at the taste of you, eyelids fluttering as though he had just tasted the most delicious food ever created. His tongue moved erratically around your fingers, making damn sure every available drop was gathered on it and swallowed down his waiting throat. The whimpers that came out of his throat were gaining in volume and intensity, a verbal cue to let you know he was ready to cum but waiting for your permission.

“Cum, little prince. Cum for me.”

He was always good at cumming on command, thanking you with muffled gratefulness as his lips were still around your fingers, sucking hard on the skin as his cum began pouring from his tip, gathering on the skirt of your robes. He let his teeth slip, biting down on your fingers accidentally but not hard enough to be painful. The hand that was on your wrist tightened in his pleasure, and his fingernails dug in for purchase. He was lightheaded, swaying with the force of his orgasm, so much so you had to steady him with your other hand.

“You’re okay,” you told him, genuine kindness shining through in an attempt to comfort him, “I got you, baby. You’re safe. I got you. So fucking good for me.” You leaned forward and kissed his forehead. “Good boy.”

He regained his mental ability to, well, exist and looked up at you with wide, puppy eyes. You bent down and kissed his lips, pulling him upwards for a passionate connection to help soothe the ache you created. “Always so fucking good for me, aren’t you?” You praised in between kisses. “You take what I give you so well.”

“All for you, Cardinal.”

“I’m just as much yours as you are mine, and don’t ever forget that.”

He nodded. You could feel the panic coming off him when you pulled back. “Cardinal?”

“It’s okay, my love.” You began stripping your soiled robes off and removing every item of clothing until you were just as bare as him. “Lie back and get comfortable. I’m coming.”

You climbed onto the bed once you were ready and scooped him up, pulling him to rest his head on your breasts and holding him as he needed you. He clutched onto you tightly, falling slowly into a deep sleep.

Kinktober: Previous Day ⛧ Next Day

The Cardinal:

Masterlist ⛧ The Cardinal Masterlist

Previous Part ⛧ Next Part

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There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part five]

Summary: Azriel and Eowyn begin their one-on-one training. A request is made.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: male/female sparring, blink-and-you-miss-it praise kink, slow-burn

Minors, do not interact

a/n: this scene was actually the first one I wrote and i've rewritten it so many times i don't even know what words are anymore. sorry its so short!

part four

Masterlist

"I held your hand until the light/ The scars were on the back

And all the time we were the right/ Was it just retract?

And they can try to put you down, wear you out/ Get you through the idea of the luck

Well, I thought you were the sweetest kill

Did we even know?"

Broken Social Scene, Sweetest Kill

She had to remind herself, for what felt like a million times that first day, that there was nothing to feel nervous about. It’s not that she felt uneasy or unsafe with the Shadowsinger. Quite the opposite. In the past few months that she’d been training with the rest of the Valkyries, she’d embraced the newfound strength and confidence that rose within her, both physically and mentally. Found out she actually enjoyed spending time with others, not only the priestesses, but also the High Lady on the semi-frequent occasions she visited the House of Wind, and of course, with the Illyrians as well.

Although she wouldn’t go so far as to call Cassian and Azriel her friends, there was more than professional respect shared amongst them. It wasn’t hard to break that wall of professionalism with Cassian, in fact he insisted on it lest he feel restricted or stilted by such a superfluous thing as polite manners, but Azriel… Azriel was entirely different.

To Cassian that is. Because every time Eowyn interacted with Azriel, she couldn’t help but feel a strange sense that she knew him, or rather, that he knew her. She didn’t know where the stupid idea came from. In fact, whenever it sprung back to the front of her mind when she was near him, she promptly banished it away at once, yet it always returned.

Thus, the fact that they spent the first training session in absolute silence other than Azriel’s given instructions and occasional corrections only made it that much more awkward. And irritating.

Eowyn wasn’t the most talkative fae by nature, much preferring to observe her surroundings than interact, but something about the silence between them irked her. It wasn’t so much that he wasn’t talking that bothered her, it was that there seemed to be so much left unspoken between them. Like they were both on the verge of an important revelation and neither of them had the balls to speak up first.

So two days later during their second session together, she gathered her wits and decided to get the job done herself.

The pair were currently sparring with long wooden staffs. The first few months of her training consisted of learning and getting used to the basics: breathing exercises, core strengthening, stamina building, with an emphasis on building the necessary strength and muscle to carry on the rest. Soon, she learned the basics of hand-to-hand combat, had moved on to sword fighting (with practice wooden swords, of course), and had even spent a few weeks learning archery. 

She was aware that sparring with her was like child’s play for Azriel. She had seen him truly spar with his brothers to know that he could kill her with a single hand, and one had to only glimpse at them— at the panting breaths puffing out at the veil covering her face, arms bare for once and glittering with sweat due to the day’s heat (on its last trenches of summer in its attempt to give them its all before it settled in for a seasonal retreat)— and him, face serious and focused on her movements and technique but otherwise untouched by both the sweltering weather and the exertion she felt and was sure to feel for days.

“May I-“ she interrupted herself with a hiss when the end of his staff hit her thigh, not hard enough to bruise but hard enough to point out a lapse in her defense. She smacked it away with the end of hers, not bothering to get into position before attacking, hoping it would serve as a distraction to get a hit in. Clearly, her lousy attempt didn’t work, earning her another two whacks on either side of her arms for her lack of defense and centering herself before attacking.

The goal of their extra training lesson consisted of one thing, Azriel had told her, she just needed to get one hit in. If she got a hit in, they would be done for the day and would meet in two days time to try another technique in which she had the same goal.

Smug bastard knew it wouldn’t happen, thus, she had to remain for the remainder of the two hours they were set to train together.

“May I ask you a question?” she huffed, taking a step back to center herself. She angled her body only slightly to the side, making sure to keep her weight centered as she held her staff up in a defense position, knees bent slightly.

She awaited his response as she awaited his attack. He swung his staff at his side in a skillful swoop as he considered her for a moment. The response came first. “Within reason.”

In a flurry of movement, much too fast for her to comprehend, he had her both disarmed and on her ass. She scowled up at him even though he couldn’t see her face. Still, he snorted lightly in amusement, as if he knew just exactly what she’d called him in her mind, before extending a hand out for her.

“It’s about your shadows,” she confessed as she gripped his hand for him to yank her up. Didn’t even think about it when she did so, but when she touched his hand and felt the scars under her fingertips, scars she’d seen him hide away in shame, she couldn’t help the way her fingers lightly grazed them as he gently pulled away once she was on her feet. She felt him tense under her hand at her words, however, his lips pursing almost imperceptibly.

“Nothing invasive,” she promised immediately, unsure of how to tell him she didn’t mean to ask how he came to master his shadows. Didn’t want to inquire after something so intimate. “I'm just curious about them. If they’re sentient, if they’re their own magic or if they’re the same as the shadows there,” she gestured towards the stairs vaguely with her head, “if they’re different from my own shadow. If they have opinions…. If they share them with you” she looked down at the silhouette of her formed at her feet from the sun's light.

He considered her words, only angling his head in a gesture to continue. She picked up her staff and took her defense position once more, awaiting. 

“Yes and no,” he replied cryptically. She rolled her eyes behind her veil. When he didn’t elaborate and shifted to mirror her stance, she understood. Didn’t know how but she didn’t miss a beat at her queue.

Attack.

Though he was ready for it, she went to strike fast and hard, diagonally right to left, using her other hand to swing the staff around, advancing as she did to slice, hard, once, twice, three times, she swung low for his feet and used the momentary shift in movement to swing back up and strike forward and then swing.

He smoothly parried each swing, staff swiftly connecting with hers with a force that rattled her bones, meeting each strike and shifting out of the way as she tried to push him back. Not once did she manage to get even close to hit him and yet his eyes glinted with a satisfaction she had never seen before, especially not directed at her.

She and Azriel? Yeah, they weren’t close like that. So why was she feeling a strange kind of familiarity with him as if she knew him and he understood her?

Begone, she mentally hissed at the thought, parrying off his own quick attempt to sneak an attack and responding in kind.

“Good, Eowyn” he almost purred, and the shiver that ran down her spine at the praise and the way her name rolled off his tongue was so powerful she almost didn’t hear the words that followed. “They are sentient, and they are their own entity, but they’re also an extension of myself. They make sure their opinions are known to me,” he emphasized, his show of only the briefest instances of fondness for his shadows causing something in her to perk up at attention. Then his face contorted, “As for how they operate among the shadows…. How I travel through them, I… apologize. I’ve never been good at explaining them. Even my brother’s don’t fully understand…”

“I understand,” she nodded earnestly, before shaking her head, “I mean I don’t understand because I don’t have shadows obviously but I can empathize with the… feeling.” Her words lost their spark towards the end, the last word coming out stiltedly and rough.

If he thought her a fool, it didn’t show on his face. 

“Let’s go through that again, there were a few places you left your guard open.”

Once he’d had her repeat the exact movements she had done and had constructively criticized every aspect of them and had her do it twice more ‘but properly this time,’ he spoke up.

“You’re not from the Night Court, are you?”

She tilted her head slightly, considering pulling the same move he did, but then decided against it, too interested in where the conversation was leading.

“What makes you think that?”

“Your accent,” he replied immediately, “it’s good. Enough to convince anyone else, but I can hear it in the cadence of certain vowels, like when you said ‘ask.’”

The deftness with which he provided not only his argument, which was a certainty at this point, but also clear examples shouldn’t have sent her for a loop but it did. Only briefly.  Because he was the Spymaster of the Court of Nightmares, after all, and a notorious one at that.

“And where am I from?” She couldn't help but challenge. Suddenly it wasn’t the infamous Shadowsinger, often serving as the Night Court’s torturer and executioner, asking her questions, but rather it was her testing how much of the rumors and whispers that breezed in the wind were true about him. At that moment, eyes locked on his, even though he couldn’t see hers, standing before each other in paralleling fighting stances, she found him immeasurably fascinating.

She wanted to open his mind and inspect every thought, every secret, everything that made him him.

His jaw twitched, wings ruffling slightly. She grinned under the veil.

“You were the only one, out of all the priestesses, that didn’t bask in the sun when you came out here for the first time.”

Again, she wasn’t sure why she was surprised by how much he noticed. She had seen him almost as soon as she’d crossed the threshold leading up from the stairs that first time, but he had been talking with Cassian, facing away from her.

“I-“ he hesitated for once. “I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable-“

“You’re not.”

He startled slightly at the firmness of her tone but took it well, only nodding once before continuing.

“You joined us in early spring. By summer, almost everyone wore less layers due to the heat, but you didn’t… I mean, until recently,” he cleared his throat, and if Eowyn didn’t know any better she could’ve sworn the tip of his ears turned pink as he glanced down at her bare arms. “I can only assume it’s because you don’t like feeling the sun on your skin.”

Quite accurate.

“So… any guesses?”

She hadn’t noticed when they had stopped, her staff was still in her grasp but they now stood in front of each other, simply talking.

“Winter.”

She tilted her head, slightly disappointed but figured it was as good a guess as any. Her contempt for the sun– not something she was too vocal about– had less to do with the time of day or weather and more to do with the feel of the heat it emanated, a reminder of the pain she’d been forced to endure. “Dawn,” she corrected, glancing at the clock to see they had ten minutes left. Didn’t linger on the thought that crossed her mind, on how time flew by without her noticing.

“But you didn’t live there long.”

“Are you still guessing or do you already know everything?”

“I don’t-“ he shook his head, looking almost affronted, if the brief flash of emotion could be called that. “I haven’t looked into you, if that’s what you mean. No. I respect your privacy, and the privacy of everyone seeking safe haven in the library.”

“With the exception of a few, though, right?” She’d heard of how he’d saved Gwyn. Had heard the same story from several other priestesses who had gushed over the handsome shadowsinger over the years.

“Well yes, but only when I’ve been able to provide help, or when I get justice for them… with their permission and by request.”

“Right,” Eowyn nodded. She glanced at the clock again. Two minutes.

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to answer me?”

She hummed thoughtfully, tilting her head to the side, “what was the question again?”

“Dawn Court. How long were you there?” his eyes narrowed.

“Why don’t you… look into it?”

He stared at her blankly. 

She sighed. “You have my permission. In fact,” she swung the staff at her side in the exact perfect synchronized way he had done before when taunting her, “let’s call it a request.”

part six

taglist: @lilah-asteria , @a-courtof-azriel, @honk4emoboyz , @feyretopia , @mrsjna , @buttermilktea11 , @bravo-delta-eccho , @kylieinwonderland

[deepspacedukat]

Praetor's Pride - Part 6

Y'know, at first I was worried that this would turn out to be a filler chapter, but it turned out to be something else entirely thanks to a plot bunny that halfway ties together two ideas I had. This fic will probably end up being around fifteen chapters, so strap idn for a long journey, and enjoy, friends! I know I haven't updated in ages, but life is busy and writer's block is a bitch.

Part 1 here. Part 2 here. Part 3 here. Part 4 here. Part 5 here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Praetor Hiren (ST:Nemesis) x Reader; Senator Letant (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: This has smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Interspecies sex, Human/Romulan sex, innuendo, ogling, heavy flirtation, literal sleeping together, dirty talk, implied spanking, mild angst.

~*~

After months of sand swirling around my head, getting in my hair, and nearly blinding me, the cool, climate-controlled environment of Deep Space Nine felt like the height of luxury. The Vulcan heat, I'd discovered, was quite possibly the most stifling climate I'd ever experienced - even Andoria's frigid icy surface was more enjoyable.

When I'd arrived on the former Cardassian station, I'd lowered the temperature in my quarters and practically lived in my bed the first day. It was lazy, it was selfish, but oh stars it felt incredible to not be on the verge of melting for once.

All in all, Vulcan hadn't been completely unpleasant, but the heat was one thing I could definitely do without. Despite feeling as though I was roasting alive every time I walked outside, my spirits during my stay there had been kept rather high by my correspondence with both Letant and Hiren. The letters I received from them were the highlights of my days.

Each had such a unique voice when putting pen to paper - or, I should say stylus to PADD - that I could tell by the very first line which of the two had written it before I glanced down at the signature. Letant was his usual jovial, jaunty self. We'd corresponded semi-regularly prior to this last trip to Vulcan, but his letters were now an almost daily part of my routine.

He spoke, for the most part, as if nothing had changed between us, but he'd stray into romantic territory near the end of each missive. Judging by his tone and how sentimental he waxed, I could discern his mood. If it had been a long, hard day, he veered further into introspective territory.

'I can't help but wonder,' he wrote in one particular message, 'whether I've been selfish in regards to our relationship. A Romulan Senator has no shortage of enemies, as has been demonstrated to me recently, and I must ask you to be honest with me in your next response. Are you absolutely certain that you know what you're getting into?'

I'd responded to him that whatever hurdles appeared before us, we'd conquer them together. Navigating life together - the good, the bad, and everything in between - was, after all, what relationships were all about. He'd comforted me countless times over the course of our friendship, so why shouldn't I do the same for him now that we were romantically involved?

Letant certainly had no objections to my emotional support, becoming ever more amorous in his subsequent correspondence.

And the Praetor's letters...

Oh, Hiren gave me something utterly priceless: a glimpse into his soul. Quoting romantic poetry from all corners of the galaxy, he made me feel as though he...well, adored me. Letant's letters were extremely intimate and romantic, of course, but this side of Hiren was unexpected. I wasn't surprised that he could be that way with a lover, but I never quite anticipated being on the receiving end of such desire.

A small part of me still expected an abrupt shift from acceptance of my Humanity to outright rejection. Maybe that expectation was just my past experience with intolerance rearing its ugly head, but something taut and nervous fluttered through my chest every time I read one of the Praetor's missives. I already felt so much for him. The thought that he might end up thinking no more of me than some of the others I'd met felt like a vice around my lungs. I hadn't yet confided that to Letant, but I knew it would be wise to do so once he arrived on the station.

He'd know precisely what I was feeling, especially if he made use of that telepathy he'd demonstrated to glance into my thoughts. In fact, that might be easier than trying to express what I felt verbally.

They seemingly had no trouble doing so - a fact that never ceased to surprise me, despite the heavy encryption that protected their words.

Something else their letters shared was the presence of oddly capitalized letters. Both could speak Federation standard, but given how random the capitalized letters were, it seemed as thought they'd begun dictating their letters in Romulan using a translation matrix that wasn't quite calibrated correctly, then switched over to Federation standard dictation halfway through. It was odd. Every letter but one contained these odd linguistic characters; Hiren's most recent correspondence was the only one completely free of typos.

For such exacting men, this struck me as odd, but then again, they were both extremely busy. They could simply have not noticed, especially if their wrote their letters at the end of the day before bed. They did have exhausting jobs, and more than once, Letant had alluded to giving himself a...'relaxing massage' while composing a message to me.

I couldn't help but wonder whether Hiren had ever done the same. I reprimanded myself as soon as the thought crossed my mind. He was the Praetor of the Romulan Empire. I really shouldn't have tried to read more into his words than was intended.

But then, that day in the garden still nudged at the back of my mind, reminding me of how deep and sensual Hiren's voice dropped when he was aroused, and I was gone. There was no dragging my thoughts back from the abyss of dirty imagery it had conjured. Maybe it was all that time spent with the Vulcans and their own mental restraint, but I longed for some of my lovers' expressiveness. Their wit and sarcasm, their gentle smiles and gleeful smirks...my heart ached to be with them again.

A week after I'd arrived on Deep Space Nine, I was rereading Hiren's latest message when it struck me:

It was too late for me to guard my heart. For better or worse, he and Letant already held it in their grasp. I was head over heels for the Senator, and I could tell that the same fate awaited me in regards to Hiren.

Could this really work? Could I really be a lover to two high-class, influential Romulans?

Odo opened a comm channel just as I once again skimmed the poetry excerpt from Hiren's last letter. I was still reeling with shock from the realization of how far I'd already fallen.

"Ambassador, I'm sorry to bother you, but there's someone in security who claims that you're expecting him."

How odd.

"Acknowledged. On my way," I answered as I got to my feet. Reluctantly, I put the PADD containing Hiren's letters back into my luggage with the rest and locked it before starting toward the Promenade.

The entire way there, I was stuck in my own thoughts. Was this a risk I was willing to take? Were Hiren and Letant really willing to accept a mate who was so incredibly different? Did they understand just how much we had to learn about each other?

For that matter, did I?

A pair of doors hissed open in front of me, and I realized I'd reached the security office while I was overanalyzing my situation.

"I know you've been here before, sir, but we all have to take precautions. your government's delegation was altered at the last minute. Ah, there you are, Ambassador," the Constable said, and I blinked, taking in the group of people in the office. There were three Romulans. Two wore military uniforms, and when the third turned around, I froze.

"Speechless already? Oh dear, that doesn't bode well for the conference in a few days, does it?" Letant's usual shit-eating grin awoke the hoard of butterflies hiding in my stomach. He was here early! I hadn't been expecting him for another three days at the very least! "Really, Constable, if you recognize me, surely you don't need confirmation of my identity?"

Odo harumphed as if the Senator's question was the height of stupidity.

"It's not your identity I'm concerned with, it's your behavior," he stated bluntly before turning his attention to me. "I wouldn't normally do this, but the last I heard, the two of you were close friends. Can you vouch for him?"

Mischief bubbled swiftly up from within me as I turned to my mate with a serious expression.

"Hm, I don't know. He can be quite the troublemaker. Drinking too much ale...flirting with the Dabo girls...picking fights with Klingon officers..." I trailed off and took two slow steps toward him as my eyes drank him in from head to toe and back again. "Do you promise to be a good boy for me, Senator?"

Letant's eyes darkened with hunger, and his grin transformed from a light, easy, roguish smile to a smirk that promised I'd regret teasing him in front of his officers.

"For you, Ambassador, yes. I do," he murmured, and I turned to the Constable.

"Yes, Odo, I'll vouch for him."

The Security Chief started tapping away at his console.

"Very well. Senator, as you've arrived early, I'm afraid the quarters we were going to have prepared for you are not yet empty–"

"There is no need for a separate set of quarters. I'll be staying with the Ambassador," Letant said, and before Odo could protest, the Senator guided me out with a large, warm hand placed firmly on my back. His guards took up protective positions behind us as we walked, effectively multiplying the amount of people staring at us. "My, separation has made you quite bold indeed, e'lev. Did your stay on Vulcan truly bore you so severely that you would challenge a Romulan Senator in public?"

"Oh please, you dramatic man, there was no challenge. I was teasing you, and you damn well know it."

Letant let out a quiet laugh as his eyebrows rose.

"You don't call publicly asking if I'm going to be a 'good boy' a challenge of my authority?" I started to reply, but he cut me off. "Or were you, perhaps, trying to coax a particular reaction from me, hm?"

The abrupt closure of my mouth told him all that he needed to know.

"Ah, I see. I knew arriving early was a prudent plan. You've been alone for far too long," he murmured as we got into the turbolift. Heedless of his guards' gazes, Letant turned me to face him and backed me up against one of the lift walls. Grasping my waist with one hand and my jaw with the other, my Senator spoke in a raspy whisper. "Congratulations, e'lev. You were entirely successful."

His lips met mine for a moment, tantalizingly rough and sweet at the same time, before pulling back and leaving me dazed as the turbolift continued on its path. From what I'd been told, such displays in front of others, including personal guards, were usually avoided like the plague.

I must've teased him more than I realized after our time apart.

When we reached the doors to my quarters, we were both short of patience. I was stunned that we made it all the way inside before Letant had me up against a wall. And just like that, the fullness of the three months that we'd been separated forced our composure to take a backseat. We became a mess of grasping hands and searing kisses, fumbling our way toward the bedroom.

"Three months is too long to be away from you," he breathed as the sound of tearing fabric heralded the death of yet another uniform top.

--

Sated and lounging in bed that evening, I'd relaxed into an almost trance-like state atop my lover's chest. The hypnotic sensation of Letant's fingertips skimming up and down the length of my back coupled with the rhythmic steadiness of his breathing comforted me in a way that I'd severely missed since I set out for my trip to Vulcan.

"He'll be here tomorrow," he said just above a whisper.

"Hm? Who?" I dragged myself back to full consciousness and looked up at Letant.

"Hiren, of course. He's talked of little else since your departure from Romulus," he murmured brushing his lips against my forehead. "I would ask if he's been writing to you if not for the fact that he practically glowed every time you responded to him."

"How could I not? The Praetor is a charming man with a romantic streak. His knowledge of love poetry is rather extensive - or, at least, I assume that it is, given the vast selection of excerpts that he's been sending me." Tracing my fingers along the column of Letant's throat, I couldn't help but smile at the thought that I'd gotten incredibly lucky.

"How did you like his latest prose, if I may ask?"

"That was my favorite set of lines yet! Oh, that reminds me, he forgot to include the poet's name. I'll have to ask him about that when he gets here. Unless you know, of course?"

With a rumbling laugh, Letant gripped my hips and slipped one of his legs between mine.

"Now, now, have patience, e'lev. I promise you'll have your answers, but not from me. The name was left off deliberately, and Hiren swore me to secrecy. Friend though he might be, I dare not disobey my Praetor. You should have seen him when he was preparing for this trip, though. He must've pulled every set of robes from his bot-unsubstantial wardrobe to ask my opinion on whether you'd find them attractive."

"No," I scoffed in disbelief, but Letant was entirely serious.

"Yes, my girl. It's ridiculous. The man has been married before. He certainly knows how to flirt and has plenty of experience in seduction. There's no reason for him to be this nervous - he's had his head between your pretty legs, for goodness sake - yet he's behaving as if he's not even had his first encounter."

"Bullshit. Hiren would never go to pieces over someone like me. You're exaggerating."

"I most certainly am not. You have reduced the Praetor of the entire Romulan Empire to no more than an anxious suitor. He lured me to the palace, plied me with kali-fal, then proceeded to try on everything he owned in front of a mirror to ask for my opinion. You should've seen him. He struck poses, e'lev," Letant said flexing his biceps as someone might in front of a mirror, and I dissolved in a fit of giggles at the mental image he conjured. "I have told you many times that you are a remarkable woman. Perhaps you'll realize that I spoke the truth before you give the poor man a coronary."

"But surely...? I mean, he must realize that I'm not superficial enough to judge him for his outfit. He'd look good in anything, just like you."

With a mere flick of his hands, Letant maneuvered me atop him so that I was straddling his hips. I braced my hands on his chest, taking in the sight of the beautiful man beneath me. his normally pristinely-groomed black hair was tousled from our exertions, and the smirk stretching his lips brought to mind smug gods from ancient mythology. In such a comparison, I was more than content to be the unwitting mortal who'd fallen so willingly into his bed.

"You think I'd look good in anything?" He asked as a faux innocent expression made its home on his face.

"Now you're just fishing for compliments–"

"Of course I am. You love me. Who better for me to ask than you, my lovely mate?" His hands slid up my sides and caressed the swell of my breasts. "Tell me, what is it like to be in bed with someone so devilishly handsome?"

Scoffing playfully, I started to move off of him, but Letant's renewed grip on my hips kept me firmly in place as he sat up beneath me. With his lips a mere hair's breadth away, I stubbornly kept my hands to myself and my mouth shut.

"Now, now...no need for petulance," the Senator breathed. It was so obscenely easy for him to get what he wanted from me. His arms wound around my torso, holding me close as he spoke. "Just because your partner is almost equal to you in beauty doesn't mean you need to pout."

How was it he always managed to compliment both himself and me in one breath?

"You don't play fair." I just barely managed to hold back a grin, fixing him with a glare instead. Letant laughed, his warm breath ghosting over my skin.

"No, but you've known that for quite some time. Besides..." he said laying kisses slowly down the length of my jaw, "you know I'm right."

The Senator's hands slid farther down my back.

"Now, about that little challenge earlier..."

--

Hiren found the T'Met's commanding officer in his Ready Room, skimming through reports with a look of deep concentration etching his face seemingly in stone. The Riov glanced up as the Praetor entered, and he smiled that same charming smile he'd worn for years.

"Well, well, I was wondering when you'd come see me, old friend. Please, have a seat," S'Talon said shutting off his console and leaning back in his own chair. "I've heard a little rumor, lhhai, concerning you, Letant, and a certain Federation Ambassador. Is that why I've been honored with the task of transporting you to this conference, my Lord Praetor?"

"You know such formalities aren't necessary, Tal," Hiren said as he sank down into one of the plush chairs. "As for the rumors...I don't know what you've heard, so it's a bit difficult to give you an honest answer."

The Riov smirked and tapped the top of his desk in an absentminded sort of way.

"I've heard that you and Letant intend to make a proper triad with her...that the two of you love her."

Hiren lifted his chin. He wasn't sure how the Riov knew that, but he was not ashamed of how he felt or who he felt it for.

"Yes. She and Letant were together to begin with, and I am fortunate enough to be a candidate for the position of their third. I won't be so rude as to presume to speak for her, but for my part, I do love her, yes."

S'Talon practically beamed at him.

"I have no doubt she adores you. I remember how smitten you were with T'Shara. I see just as much light in your eyes...just as much pride as there was when you spoke of her." The Romulan Captain stood and walked around his desk. "She must truly be a marvel to have caught your attention so fully. I look forward to meeting her when we arrive at the station."

"Don't go getting any ideas. I know how charming you can be toward women you find exceptional," Hiren chastised playfully, but S'Talon placed a solemn hand over his heart.

"I am fond of the fairer sex, but you know I would never abscond with a friend's lover. She's yours, you are hers, and I would never dream of coming between you. I'll be on my best behavior, I swear it," the Riov vowed. "I would, however, like to befriend her, if you're comfortable with that."

"I do not choose my lover's companions for her. If she wishes to count you among her friends, I would never stand in your way."

A moment's comfortable silenced passed between the two, and as he leaned back against the desk, S'Talon smiled.

"Have you imagined it? What you'll do once you marry her, I mean?"

"She might not have me–"

"Oh, she'll have you, old friend, I'm certain of it. Now, tell me," the Riov continued, "where have your daydreams taken you when you think of her? You will undoubtedly be the most powerful triad in the entirety of the Empire, but have you given any thought to where you'll live? Your family estate is quite large, as is Letant's, but the Praetor's Palace would obviously have enough space, should you choose to reside there..."

Hiren couldn't help but laugh at his friend's enthusiasm, allowing his infectious joy to flow through him.

"You give me far too much credit, Tal. She's Human. She may not...well, it might be that she is not made for a triad. Who knows? I might make some monumental mistake that costs me her love, or I might simply be too old once she stops to consider the age difference." Hiren gave voice to the fears that had rolled around in his head since her departure from their home planet. He'd told Letant his concerns and had received reassurance in return, but Hiren wanted S'Talon's counsel, as well.

"I cannot pretend to know her mind," the Riov began, "but I do know yours. You are an excellent judge of character. You would not have chosen someone so fickle. I would wager my best bottle of kali-fal that your fears - while completely valid and normal - lack real foundation. She will have you, my dear old friend, and she will not let you go once she does."

Hiren nodded his head, rolling his shoulders as if to banish some of his tension from his frame.

"Would you do me a small favor once we reach the station?" The Praetor has no doubt that he was about to sound even more ridiculous, but he was beyond caring. "Would you...sketch her for me? I'd be happy to pay you. Nothing too elaborate, and she doesn't have to know, it's just..."

He trailed off, unable to think how best to describe his emotions, but Tal just smiled.

"Of course. It would be my honor." The Riov murmured, but he frowned a little. "You know I'd never charge you for that. I would, however, like to know how you met her."

A smile stretched the Praetor's lips as he thought back to that night.

--

Letant lay in bed that night content to hold his mate close as his thoughts whirled in his head behind a carefully constructed barrier. He didn't want them bleeding across the telepathic bridge between his mind and his lover's. She deserved sleep that wasn't interrupted by his guilt.

Was he doing the right thing keeping this from her? But surely, if it was to keep her safe, she'd understand.

Elements, if this involved anyone but her, he'd have no trouble justifying his actions. He'd been a great strategist - he still was - so why was this causing him so much discomfort? He knew that the pain she'd feel would be temporary...that it would all be resolved in a matter of days once it began and that the three of them would live quite happily afterwards, but...

Damn him, the thought of causing her even a moment's pain made him want to wake her, drop to his knees, and plead for her forgiveness. He wanted to tell her everything, but he knew that doing so would endanger her life.

That he could not abide. Her life was much more valuable to him than his comfort, and though she may rage at him later, he was reasonably certain that they could work through any problems together.

She stretched in his arms and nuzzled even farther into Letant's embrace. Precious girl. She murmured something nonsensical in her sleep, and the Senator held her just a bit tighter as he kissed her forehead.

Allowing his mind to brush against hers, he watched her dreams like a holo-vid until he finally dropped into a mostly-peaceful sleep in her arms.

~*~*~

Taglist:

@akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[kasagia]

I want to start off by saying I never wrote this kind of message before and you don't have to reply as these are just my thoughts lol. Atm I really think ''right hand'' is the best Feyd fic out there! At the end of every chapter, I kind of already have an idea in my mind of the possible outcome but with every new chapter you just blow my mind and expectations! The fact that every chapter is filled with action makes the reader longing for more (me included) I really like the way you structured Y/n and her dynamic with Feyd and I love that her choices gravitate around what's best for her & she doesn't act like a teenage girl in love (homegirl actually has personality AND is a badass). Regardless of what others said I think that her being the one to stab him was the supreme act of love she could've ever shown our crazy boy (maybeee she stabbed him hoping he wouldn't pass because she knew if Paul was the one to do it he'd be dead fr) Thank you for feeding our fantasies and updating so often (keeping in mind each chapter is long enough to satisfy one bored girl) I hope you ace your exams <3.

*Me reading this*

My two dear anonymous, thank you soooooooooo much! 😊😊🖤🩵🖤🩵🖤🖤🖤🖤🩵🩵🩵

Of course I will replay after such words xD How could I not when I'm so fucking grateful? I really like surprising you and I'm very happy that I can do it. 🩵🩵🖤🩵🖤🖤 This is the type of reader I like to write about the most. And maybe she makes decisions that are good for her, but she is not entirely indifferent to Feyd's fate and it is of great importance to her. Unfortunately, I won't confirm or deny your suspicions, but... YES GIRL. Her actions were on the verge of betrayal and an expression of great love, and now we have to wait and see which side she will choose and decide to go. Thank you so damn much! I will ace them and go back to writing for you all! 🖤🖤🖤🖤

I'M CRYING BECAUSE OF YOU ALLL!!! (I guess it's karma for what happened in part V… I don't regret anything anyway xDDDDD) Unfortunately, I promised myself that I wouldn't tell you anything and that I wouldn't give you any hints about what will happen in the next chapter... except for the ones I wrote in Part V. So I won't confirm or deny your wonderful speculations of you all (that I LOVED to read. You can feed me with more.) 🤭😇 Thank you very much, I don't know how to express my gratitude for your involvement… just thank you!!!!!!!! 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

[iamthecomet]

The ghouls love to tease their kills, make them think they might be spared, let them escape a few times on purpose, and make them beg for their lives. All of this is great fun for them, especially when they see relief wash over a sibling's face just before they kill them. Although it's great fun to trick a sibling in to thinking they've won their safety, would they refrain from doing it to preserve the unadulterated flavor of terror? I'm sure they all have their preferences, but for those of them that love to play with their food I wonder if they ever waste a kill because they couldn't stand the flavor.

Fic idea I got while writing this: One or more ghouls are hunting a sibling. One ghoul, maybe Rain since I think the siblings underestimate how dangerous he is, hangs back and once the others have caught the sibling Rain comes and "talks them out of" killing them. Then Rain goes to comfort the sibling before killing them himself.

Not directly related to anything else in here but: I LOVE WEAPONIZED QUINTESSENCE

God I could talk about murder ghouls ALL DAY (and I have and I will). I started writing headcanons and accidentally wrote something based on the first part of this ask and not the fic idea but OH WELL. Fruits never stop sending me murder ghoul content it makes me so HAPPY. Also someday I'm going to write weaponized quintessence because HOLY FUCK it's so good (but not yet, sorryyy).

700ish words of murder ghouls. gore. violence. ghouls being predators. Ghouls eating people (well more talking about it but you get the idea) Dew being a picky eater. Cumulus being Cumulus. Murder ghouls are NOT good people but we love them anyway.

They all have their preferences. Swiss likes them horny. Boneless. On the verge of an orgasm. Loves the taste of oxytocin and dopamine on his tongue. Loves the heat of them, the pound of their pulse beneath his fangs. Rain likes them unaware. Never seeing it coming. Relaxed. Basic, unseasoned humanity. Aether and Aeon like them drunk on quintessence. The taste of their own magic in their blood. The tang of it sharp on their tongues. But Dew? he likes fear. Unadulterated. Terror. It makes them so sweet. All of those chemicals. All that cold dread pooling thick in their stomachs. Just the smell of it can set him off. So this, is less than ideal. He should have known better pairing up with Cumulus to hunt. She likes it slow--decadent. Likes to savor the way their face opens back up when they realize the monster behind them has been their beloved friend this whole time. She lives for the relief in their eyes. The way fight or flight dies and adrenaline flees and they are comfortable and home and--Dew can't stand the taste of it. The smell of it makes him grimace. He watches from the edges of the trees. In sight, out of mind now that the sibling thinks the real danger has passed. He watches Cumulus stroke a soft finger over the sibling's cheek. Their jaw. Pressing a thumb over full lips. Cumulus coos at them, like she would a kit and Dew feels his stomach churn. He's happy to help--really--but he's hungry and he's picky. He hates to admit it. Rain would dive in--no questions. Mountain too--though he prefers his prey dazed and drugged. But Dew? He can't stomach it. 

He should have said no–but just like the sibling he is powerless to Cumulus when she wants something. Big eyes and a pouty lip that has him shoving his hands in his pockets and following her even though he knows he’ll end the night hungry. 

Better than dead, he supposes. 

“Droplet,” Cumulus says, voice a soft purr. She jerks her head toward the sibling and Dew sighs. He crosses to them, leaves crunching under his boots. Hands balled into fists in the pockets of his jacket. Ravenous and revolted all at once. 

The sibling jolts when they notice him again. Eyes darting between Cumulus–trusted confidant and friend–and Dew who has never been kind to a human in his entire infernal life. There is knowledge in those eyes–primal. That this sibling knows he was chasing them. Hot on their tail. Smelling like smoke and sulfur. That if Cumulus hadn’t stepped in, he would have killed them. 

She gets to play savior–it’s her favorite role. But Dew smells that little spike of fear, can taste it on the air. Unease. His stomach clenches, growls. 

“Do you want to do the honors?” Cumulus turns to him fully now. One hand still cupping the siblings cheek. But her eyes on him. Looking up at him, lips parted. Dew is definitely not thinking about how they’ll taste when they’re covered in blood. 

The sibling whimpers, pulls back but Cumulus digs her fingers in. The sharp scent of blood hits Dew like a freight train. Tolerable now. And he feels himself nod. Hunger outweighing pickiness momentarily. 

The sibling pulls away from Cumulus fully. Wrenching away even as Cumulus digs in, claws carving for deep scratches in their cheek as they bolt. Darting through the trees. Cumulus licks their blood from her fingers. 

Dew waits, allows this human a head start, just enough time for him to look at Cumulus and tilt his head, confusion. 

“That’s your kill,” he says, low. She offers him two of her fingers, dragging blood over his lips. His tongue darts out to lap it up. Sweet. Laced with panic and confusion. Soon he’ll have a feast of it. “We’ll share. I’m not the picky one.” 

“Lus–”

“Better hurry, before dinner gets away.” She gives him a shove in the direction the sibling went. Dew can still hear them, crashing through the woods, panting panicked breaths. Each of them bordering on a scream. “Bring them back first,” she adds. “I want to watch.” 

[sickiesope]

Heyy<3 I hope it‘s okay if I request something✨ Could you write a sick, sleepy and moody Namjoon who is also on the verge of tears anytime someone raises their voice or when he feels overwhelmed. They are just done with a concert and all members are in their rooms (Namjoon, Jin and Yoongi share a room) Maybe Jin and Yoongi are the caretakers? Only an idea;) Have a wonderful time and thank you so much!!!

This request is from awhile back, sorry for the wait anon! I wrote this fic during a rainstorm!

Sensory overload

Sickie: Namjoon

Caretakers: Jin and Yoongi

TW: very light emeto near end

Namjoon seems to get sick at the absolute worst of times.

The guys just finished a concert and Namjoon is exhausted. He's been on edge all night and can barely stand it anymore. His entire body hurts and he's had an ongoing headache. He pushed through the entire concert, feeding off the energy of army. It worked well and he was able to forget about the pain briefly.

When it's over his ears are ringing and his head throbbing. It's starting to affect his mood. Everyone is talking to him but he can barely comprehend anything. Jungkook and Jimin were both at the same time, trying to get his attention. Hoseok was asking him about his upcoming solo music. Their manager trying to arrange plans for next week. It's all too much at once and he's overstimulated.

Namjoon goes back to his dressing room. He wishes he had it to himself but he's sharing it with Seokjin and Yoongi. Part of him wants to just ask if he could be alone in it but he doesn't want to kick them out and seem rude.

Yoongi comes in and opened the door louder than expected. It frightens Namjoon

"Ugh...please...not so loud.." the leader whimpers to himself. Every little noise freaks him out.

Jin's can of hairspray falls down along with makeup and other things. The noise of it all agitates Namjoon further. "Oh my god.."

Namjoon sits at the table burying his face in his arms. His social battery ran out long ago. He sighs and closes his eyes, feeling like he can sleep on the spot.

"Namjoon, wake up. We're not done yet!" Jin gives his shoulder a light shake. The gesture startles Namjoon and he yelps slightly.

Seokjin looks at him weirdly. "Joonah?"

Namjoon's face flushes. What in the world was that? He gets up and promptly leaves the room, wanting to be left alone. He takes off his ear piece and the mic off his shirt. He wants to take his shirt off too, he's still sweating from the show but keeps it on.

Namjoon just paces back and forth in the hallway trying to walk off his anxiety. His headache is getting worse and his stomach feels a bit upset. He avoids the gaze of anyone looking at him, not wanting to engage in conversation. It's nothing against them, Namjoon himself is just having a hard time. All he wants right now is his bed in a dark isolated space. He sees Taehyung and Jungkook start walking his way. He quickly turns around and retreats back to his room.

Namjoon accidentally knocked over the coat hanger, creating more mess and noise. "Ughh, I can't take it anymore!" Namjoon sighs heavily.

"Joonah, what's got you so worked up?" Yoongi asks him calmly. The older can sense the stress on him from a mile away.

Namjoon runs to the trash bin in the corner. He stands over it holding his middle with a distressed face. He gags slightly and spits up a small mouthful. "Ugghh.."

"Joonah! Are you okay??" Jin runs to his aid.

Namjoon wanted to shoo him away but he actually likes the comfort of his hyung's voice.

Seokjin and Yoongi help him to the couch. They take the trash can with them and a box of tissues.

"I'm exhausted hyung" Namjoon whines "everything hurts and I feel sick.."

Yoongi furrows his brows with worry, gently patting his back.

"I just, w-wanna go h-home" Namjoon chokes between sobs.

"It's okay Joonah, we're going home now. The night's over."

Seokjin and Yoongi look at him with great sympathy. Jin gets Namjoon to lie back and gives the leader a shoulder massage. His strong hands feel amazing digging into his sore tense muscles.

[geee-three]

okay being serious about the hamilton x prsk au now

its not an au theres just. a production of hamilton. hosted by emu ootori who convinced (wonderhoy'd) lin manuel miranda into giving her the rights

wxs puts on a production of hamilton (rui painstakingly teaches tsukasa the entire thing line-by-line and is on the verge of pulling a nightcord by the end SLASH SILLY) and kidnaps other people (i.e. their fans) to help out (take on major roles) with the only pre-requisite being "please speak english and also know your part. we've spent a month trying to drill this into tsukasa's head and we think rui will actually jump off a cliff if we ask him to do it again".

so, with no further ado: the cast list. alexander hamilton - kohane azusawa. while you would expect tsukasa to demand the titular character he did not want to learn that much english (rui refused to teach him) and so he adorned it on his number three fan. who was thrilled. everyone knows my kohane hamilstan agenda by now. she kills it. an does not understand a word but is cheering the entire time. noone tells her that kohane is singing about adultery and tax fraud. aaron burr - toya aoyagi. once again, as a majorly important character, you'd expect this role to be filled by a member of wonderlandsxshowtime. no. toya :D. he knows english he can sing he gets along well with all the other cast members. its perfect! kohane dramatically brings up the fact he shot her on a daily basis from here on out and he dramatically apologises every time. eliza schuyler - nene kusanagi. we finally get to a wandashow member (we'll speedrun them all in a minute). "izza, why do you always give nene, a character allergic to romance, the first love interest?" i think im funny. no yeah i think she would KILL burn. like its dead on the floor. stabbed. perhaps even burnt. (also. nene beatboxing.) angelica schuyler - mizuki akiyama. "izza you said wandashow-" shut. its mizooking time. she mizooks all over the place. some men say that im intense or im insane. you want a revolution i want a revolation so listen to my decloration. george washington - tsukasa tenma. "izza this is still a very major character your excuses make no sense" shush my hamilton production i want kohane as lead. go away. i think blond bitch should be washington. if it works it works yk. king george iii - emu ootori. shes just here to have fun idk man. shes having fun. leave her be. john laurens/phillip hamilton - minori hanasato. i dont have an explaination beyond minokoha queerbait and also i think minori doing the. my name is phillip. i am a poet. and i wrote this poem just to show it. sequence would be amazing. imagine a version of phillip where hes delivering it as normal but with an idol dance routine. yeah. lafayette/thomas jefferson - rui kamishiro. i was actually really stumped on where to put rui. yes i considered maria. i did not do that (evidently). this is just because jefferson is really gay like in the way he dresses and such and i think rui can get on board with that hercules mulligan/james madison - airi momoi. she has officially ruined her idol reputation and haruka has clipped her making sex jokes on stage and turned it into a nightcord emote for the mmj server. ena never lets her live this down and has printed a screenshot of the sex jokes and stuck it to the shinonomefridge. she still stands by her decicion to participate. peggy schuyler/maria reynolds - saki tenma. this one is one of the more streched ones. i couldve put emu here. i couldve put rui here. but no i put saki. why? i simply think shed enjoy it. enrichment. leo/need casually dies in the audience. samuel seabury - ichika hoshino. she has just the right level of seriousness and whimsy to pull this off. phillup schuyler - keisuke ootori. i think im so funny. well? im not. james reynolds - shiho hinomori. she does NOT want to be here but apparently shes married to saki so everythign is okay. what do you mean saki cheated on her with kohane. my bestie you are gettign SHOT. (she gets very in character.) charles lee - mafuyu asahina. mizuki is laughing her ass off. basically mafumom found out that someone mafuyu knew (emu) was putting on a historical play and was all "go on join in!!" and so she did.

yaysies. honami and shizuku and haruka and an and akito and kotaro and tatsuya and hinata and ena and kanade and yuuki (and mafumom i guess) all go to see it and have a variety of reactions ranging from homosexuality to omg look thats my sister!!! to oh my fucking god airis making sex jokes on stage to why didnt my daughter get a bigger part

...@vivid-street i am ashamed of myself but its here now.

[13eyond13]

For book ask game, no. 13, 14, 18, 25, 26. Thx :D

Ooh thanks for sending me more book asks!

13. Name a book with a really bad movie/tv adaptation:

Watchmen (2009) by Zack Snyder was a pretty mediocre adaptation of the graphic novel by Alan Moore, from what I remember of both of them (haven't revisited either of them in a long time, but distinctly remember having this opinion back when I first read it... like oh ok, so THIS is what it's actually supposed to be like).

I feel like as a director Zack Snyder is very good at creating epic movie trailer moments or music videos with stylish visuals (this trailer for it looked pretty exciting to me at the time it was new):

BUT then once you go to the theater and try to sit through one of his movies they usually just end up being just the most soulless drawn-out superficial and boring stuff, like watching a 3 hour long commercial. From what I remember a lot of the creative and innovative storytelling and the depth in the original Watchmen comic comes entirely from how it is presented to the reader on the page, too (with stuff like the layout of the panels and the stories-within-stories "Black Freighter" chapters that were cut out of the film entirely that cleverly parallel the present-day action, etc). Definitely recommend reading the graphic novel over watching this movie!

14. Name a book where the movie/tv adaptation is better than the original: Requiem for a Dream (2000) was a better experience as a crazy edgy depressing movie than it was as a novel by Hubert Selby Jr. to me:

I first saw this movie without having any idea what to expect when I was about 16, and even though it's pretty shocking in parts and upsetting to watch I remember really loving it back then and thinking of it as one of my favourite films at the time (I think I had a higher tolerance for certain kinds of edgelord stuff in my stories back in those days sometimes too, haha). This movie has always felt bit like a comic or a live action horror cartoon to me somehow? I think that it kinda goes too far a bit and nearly verges on comedy instead of tragedy at the end due to just how absurd and nightmarish it gets, but perhaps that almost unbelievable heightenedness of it all is kind of why it often feels a bit like a comic or a cartoon to me, too. And I still think there's quite a bit here to enjoy even despite the edginess as well. I think the acting is often very good, the soundtrack and the sound effects and the stylish visuals are great, and that the whole thing effectively creates a lot of very strong emotions like tension and dread and tenderness and wistfulness and loneliness and horror. It's maybe the only Darren Aronofsky film I actually like?

HOWEVER whenever I read the book that it was based on a few years ago I could barely get past the stylistic choices of the writer to enjoy what was being said (he wrote it in the 70s in sort of a dated stream-of-consciousness type writing style without many paragraph breaks or any quotation marks for separating the dialogue or the inner monologue from the prose, which I just found really annoying and off-putting to read). And the part about the book I liked the best, which was the colourful and extremely memorable dialogue and the slang that the characters use, was taken almost verbatim from the book and brought to life well on the screen too, so the whole time I was reading it I was just wanting to hear it said by the movie characters again instead. idk, I think it's a movie I'd definitely watch again sometime, but not a book I'd ever read again. Just more entertaining and less of a slog that way.

18. Which character from a book is the most like you?

Oh, very good question! Hmm... there are certain characters I relate to a lot for various reasons, but i don't know if anybody would say I'm extremely like them, probably? Of the books I've read more recently I feel like I'm sort of a bit of a Frodo character or something, maybe... his personality and his peaceful lifestyle before he gets sent on his adventure just feel very much like how I'd probably be living and socializing with everybody in the Shire myself, and the way he handles stuff like the burden of the ring on him and his reasons for doing things and how he worries about his friends who insist on sticking by his side and acts sort of secretive and more reserved feels relatable to me as well.

25. If you could be a character from a book for just one day who would you be and why? (Bonus: any specific day in the story?)

I want to be Wilbur the pig from Charlotte's Web getting a buttermilk bath and then eating the trough full of leftovers he gets (as a kid I remember thinking the lengthy descriptions of all the table scraps he was eating sounded really good for some reason, and the buttermilk bath sounded delicious to me as well lol).

26. If you could be a character from a book for their entire life who would you be and why?

I think it'd be pretty fun to be Lestat from the Vampire Chronicles because from what I remember he never feels guilty or angsty about much for too long, and he just knows how to have a good time no matter what. Even when he gets super bored or super depressed and then goes catatonic for a while he always eventually manages to bounce back and find something or someone new and interesting to get enthusiastic about and involved with again. He experiences things deeply and in an open-minded way while still never getting too burnt out by it or jaded about it either. If ever I were cursed to become immortal then I think his is the kind of personality that would make it the most enjoyable, anyway.

[bookish asks]

[olivieblake]

Hey, Olivie! I'm in need of advice, and a bit of assurance, but mainly advice.

Right now, the traditional publishing industry is - pardon my French - shit, and I'm in a bit of a pickle. I'm on the verge of querying my second manuscript, and for context, it was very well received by my closest circle, my critique partners, and several agents and editors who wanted to see the manuscript on their desks in 2022 during pitch events. However, revisions took a bit longer than anticipated due to school and work on my end. It's 2023 now, and I'm almost ready to submit, but now I'm not so sure of this book, or my career.

Trends come and go, and right now, I'm not sure if my book would do well in the current market. My first book, ironically, was a romantasy I wrote two years prior, and now, it might hypothetically do better. But that isn't the main point - I'm tired of writing projects that fall wayside of what's desired by agents and publishers mainstream, by just a couple of years or a couple inches off the mark. Additionally, right now, there are fewer agents and editors to go around due to several scandals I won't specifically name. It just feels like every single barrier is up against me right now. Publishing is a business, and I don't know if I'm a desired product.

I know my worth. I know I'm qualified, and I'm a writer with a fair bit of experience under my belt, but right now, I just don't know if the traditional industry is right for me or not, and I'm seriously doubting the idea of having a future part-time career - or even a full-time one eventually at all. I really don't want to go through indie publishing, since I don't have the resources nor time to market myself without a team on my side. And to be fair, I'm almost a college graduate (undergrad, senior), so this might be jitters talking, but so is my anxiety. I'm mixed Southeast/East Asian, so given publishing's fascination with slotting Asian voices into neatly packaged, "exotic" hashtag Diverse Voices Packages - I just don't know if my not-neat voice is wanted, or will ever be needed.

It would kill me, but...I don't know if I should just stop and come back in a couple of years, or just stop altogether. I'm not sure I'm strong enough to follow through with my current book and face another set of rejections, then write nine more books and face nine more rejections. TLDR: the pessimist in me is having A Time. any advice gladly appreciated!!!

okay

I'm not going to lie to you

I was nodding along sympathetically and then

I got to your age

and I burst out laughing

I laughed OUT LOUD oh my god my sweet summer child

(for reference: I am 34, I have no formal writing training, I started trying to get published when I was 27, I didn't see any success until I was 31, at your age I had a masters degree and a scholarship to law school and was very sure I was going to be a lawyer. I am. not one)

okay so laughter aside, please allow me to tell you gently, very gently, that at this age, you're not supposed to know what you want, you're not necessarily supposed to see your career, and you're not meant to understand if there is a place for you in the market until you try. look, I won't lie to you, traditional publishing is a life filled with rejection on every floor. there is no level of success where you will no longer hear no. and yeah, it's hard to find your way in—I tried for five years before I got my first publishing contract, and showed no particular success until a completely different self-published book went viral through essentially no doing of my own an entire year after that. everything that happens in publishing is a spectacular accident. and what's very crazy to me about the fact that I'm currently sitting in my third week on the nyt bestseller list is that this book was actually my first self-published book—I wrote it six years ago, when all of publishing was telling me no. I had no reason to believe I had any talent for writing, but I did it anyway, because I loved it and only felt alive while I was doing it. the fact that it is successful now, with nothing having changed along the way except for someone giving me a chance in this industry, is why I am laughing. because everything is an accident and all of this is mess.

so, the choices you make in publishing CANNOT be about external markers of success. it can't be about money (that is, beyond the question of how will you survive while writing—I could because I had a freelance job and my husband's income to help me. you'll need either family money, a partner with an income, or a job). it can't be about marketability. your desire to publish has to come from somewhere innate and you have to be able to take no and keep going. for the question of self/traditional publishing, the main issue is: do you want to run your own business? you can self-publish so long as you don't mind managing your own editorial, sales, PR, production, and marketing. if you have the resources to get started, and if it's a genre/age category that has shown success (adult SFF or romance), it is a totally valid way to make a living. if you, like me, prefer not to handle your own production/marketing etc, then traditional publishing is the way, but you will encounter all of the gatekeepers along the way who might say no. so you have to think how you're willing to deal with that, and how you will pay the rent and buy the groceries over the course of publishing's very lengthy timeline, where you will make your advance in 3rds (so about 1/3 per year through the production process) and likely have to consider supplementing your writing with a full or part time job.

basically, the point is: query the book. you have nothing to lose. do it now before the winter holidays because nobody in publishing reads over the holidays. don't worry about whether your voice is wanted. you already know it is. send it out. the worst you can hear is no. and then try again, or don't! but my advice is always shoot your shot, and your resiliency and adaptability is what will carry you through this process, more so than sweat or skill. getting an agent or a publishing deal is not what will make you believe in your talent. you have to believe in it now, and the love and the work you put into the stories you tell is what will be rewarded in time

[luvvixu]

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 luwisi's yap-papi

MY DEAR READERS, I'M ONLY ALIVE WHENEVER I POSTED AN UPDATE—AND I JUST POSTED THE PT. 5 OF MIND OVER MATTER... THAT'S MEANS I CAN YAP ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED THESE PAST FEW DAYS WHILE I LITERALLY GHOSTED Y'ALL OUT

so um...remember when i said that there's gonna be a special chapter for the end? like i think it's supposed to be posted on june 12 if i'm not mistaken...yea

I WAS supposed to upload that stuff the next day. but dear me, forgive me, because the word file for that shit...got corrupted and i cannot retrieve it anymore no matter how hard i try. and the saddest part is, i don't have a second copy nor a draft here in tumblr :((

so, on the verge of ascending to heaven, i have decided to just wrote the entire plot/story and now, it's still on process cuz i forgot some parts fckkkkkkkk

this is so unfortunate. but this is life, it supposed to fcks ppl harder (metaphorically) k bye hope y'all have a nice day and thanks for checking in

welcome to my new segment, btw.

[laminy]

I saw Unicorns today at TIFF! I don’t want to spoil anything (unless you message and ask, then I’ll tell you whatever you want), so this won’t be too in depth in terms of the actual story beats. I’ll put it behind a cut anyway just in terms of length.

The basic premise is that Luke (Ben’s character), a single father who works as a mechanic, ends up at an underground drag performance, and doesn’t realize that the performer, Aysha, is a drag queen. He thinks she’s a female dancer, and finds himself attracted to her. Then Aysha hires him to be her driver.

In general, I would say that I liked it, and am glad I saw it, but I didn’t love it. It is probably as tropey and cliche as you might imagine, based on the premise, which doesn’t necessarily make it bad, it just means that most of what happened probably isn’t much of a surprise (though a couple moments are). The main characters themselves are bordering-ish on stereotype. Ben’s in particular made me wince a few times. But obviously, I don’t think there are a lot of interracial gay romances out there, so this is successful in its differences (though I personally didn’t really buy into the chemistry between the leads and thought the hottest scene was a brief moment Ben had with another male character early on, though other reviews I’ve seen disagree and loved their chemistry).

It did get a few really big laughs from the audience, but I also heard someone say, as we were leaving, that the best part of it was the music, so that might not really be a great sign?

Not being part of either community represented in the film, I can’t speak to how successful that representation is. I definitely have my own thoughts about it, as a viewer, but they would be verging too close into spoiler territory. The story is mostly through Ben’s eyes, not Aysha’s, and it largely follows him, but James Krishna Floyd, who wrote and co-directed is Indian so I trust that at least parts of Aysha’s story ring true.

In terms of Ben (which is the reason I went) and his career, I think it is an interesting trajectory and does the make the future of his career more exciting. Even if something might not be great, at least he’s not afraid of taking chances. I think based on looks and body type (no judgment) producers are always going to want to stick him in a box of like, romantic leading man or blockbuster action. And I suspect he also has bills to pay so will continue to do those (no shame, I personally loved 6 Underground even if no one else did). But this at least says to me he’s not afraid of looking absolutely pathetic and unsexy on screen. His giant green eyes (a character described them as ~mysterious~ which is not at all accurate because I feel like his eyes constantly telegraph everything going on) spend the entire movie on the verge of tears, honestly the personification of 🥺🥺

He’s obviously doing films he enjoys and scripts that speak to him because this is going to go nowhere at the box office and probably fly totally under the radar.

In terms of trigger warnings, there are a couple I could give that would be spoilers but mainly I do not recommend this film if you’re affected by flashing or strobe lights, which are basically all of Aysha’s performance scenes.