#but she refuses! she respects him too much to let him get a dig in on him… it’s cute…

[scullyscatholicguilt]

i find it adorable that almost immediately into their working partnership, scully begins defending mulder when other people express similar skepticism as her own towards him…

only SHE can call him crazy!!!

[stupidocupido]

house of balloons

aegon ii targaryen x fem!reader | based on this hotd upper east side au

Like the conqueror he was named after, Aegon finds his treasures just to destroy them. Leaving them emotionally unsatisfied, drained of their self-respect, and covered in his cum. He sees it as a challenge, to make even the toughest woman beg for him. And eventually, they all do, because, in the end, all women are the same.

modern au; porn without plot; dom!reader, sub!aegon, blowjob, actual sex, hitting, degrading language; one shot; minors dni

I rewrote an old pwp I posted around 2020 for another character. Enjoy ;)).

All the lights in the office are off. Some eco-bullshit rules the MT came up with to save energy. The only thing that illuminates the place is the mixture of white and red city lights coming in through the windows. Ground to ceiling, the windows don’t open at the top floor, but they give a spectacular view over Kings Landing. From behind the desk, his father has a splendid view over the city, their ancestors worked hard for it after all.

Not a view Aegon currently can enjoy. His mouth is opened, and his tongue is being held between her fingers. It is drying up and when he tries to pull his tongue back, her nails dig into it. He tries to close his mouth, but she refuses to let him go. Instead, she grabs his jaw, pulling his mouth further open.

“You tell so many lies with this pretty tongue of yours—so much wasted energy. There are better things you can waste your energy and tongue on, oh Aegon. Didn’t I teach you that the last time?”

Aegon can only nod and it makes her finally let go. Her fingers are wet with his spit, which she swipes clean on his pants. Her hand stays there, her long nails dark and moving to the inside of his thighs.

“You’re a slow learner, I think you need to redo that particular class.” She sounds more annoyed than angry. He can feel his skin colour red, as he shamefully nods a bit too willingly. It is pathetic how her annoyed tone and scowl get him aroused.

Aegon never saw himself as the submissive type. He knows he is handsome and that it doesn’t take him a lot to talk women into his bed. It probably is a mixture of his arrogance, money, name and looks.

Like the conqueror he was named after, Aegon finds his treasures just to destroy them. Leaving them emotionally unsatisfied, drained of their self-respect, and covered in his cum. He sees it as a challenge, to make even the toughest woman beg for him. And eventually, they all do, because, in the end, all women are the same.

They all long to be dominated, to be domesticated. Women only need to be strong and independent when they open their legs to give birth to a child. They’re only good for three things: to be fucked, to make him a sandwich after and to be fucked again.

At least, that is how Aegon likes to profile himself to the world. The wild Targaryen son, the boy who is overlooked in favour of his older sister. With a father who probably gave him the token Targaryen name so he wouldn’t forget his unwanted son’s name. A mother who probably regrets not using a condom and siblings who are much more interesting and deserving of the Targaryen name than him.

And all those insecurities he masks by drinking, sniffing and fucking his monthly allowance away. Pretending he is the alpha male that boys who long for female attention talk about in their podcasts. Aegon knows, because sometimes they use him as an example in their boring click-bait conversations they post on TikTok.

“You’re so pathetic.” She says as she moves her hand off his thighs again. She pushes her index and middle finger against his lips. “So, like a dumb, mindless, uninspiring child, you need to be taught this one simple lesson again.”

Aegon knows what to do, he opens his mouth to lick her fingers. She pushes them in his mouth immediately. He sucks her fingers off like it’s her cunt. His tongue swirls around her fingers. His pleading eyes look up to her barely illuminated face. Then she pushes her fingers deeper into his mouth, her long nail scraping over the back of his tongue. It makes Aegon gag, his body moves with recoil.

Her laugh is cold and cruel. “Pathetic boy, you want to hit the back of my throat with your dick, but you can’t even take two of my fingers.”

She brings her wet fingers to her mouth, licking Aegon’s spit off her digits. She makes sure to look him straight in the eye as she does so. Aegon had been a very bad boy, telling everyone at the party she had been his latest conquest. When the both of them know the only one who gets pillaged here is the one with the growing erection.

As an intern at the publishing company the Targaryen’s own, her reputation is at risk. She is a serious girl, a hard-working girl. she is everything Aegon is not. Perhaps that is why he keeps on coming back.

“Can you repeat rule number one to me?” Her hand strokes his right thigh. She leans in closer to his face, wanting to make sure she doesn’t miss his words.

“No one will ever know about what happens behind closed doors,” Aegon mutters, looking away from her piercing eyes.

Her stroking stops, and she pushes her nails into his pants. “And which rule did you break, my stupid little boy?”

Her lips are almost touching his when she speaks the words. Aegon swallows the pain that comes with her nails into his skin away. “Rule number one.”

She backs away from him again, her lips curved into a smile that does not reach her eyes.

“Do you know what they do with boys who break rules?”

Both her hands are on his belt, loosening it. Aegon does not dare to look away from her face. They barely did a thing (they didn’t even kiss, for fucks sake!) but he is so turned on already. He shakes his head, pretending he does not know what happens when he breaks her rules.

“No? Well, let me tell you then.” She unzips his pants, her hand immediately sliding into his opened trousers. With her palm she rubs over his erection, scraping the fabric of his black boxers over the sensitive skin.

“They are punished.”

Aegon his head falls back because of her torturous movements. “Yes, please punish me.” He is shocked by the words that so easily fall off his lips. He is shocked by the desperate tone, he is shocked by the want he feels in his body.

He wants to feel her skin against his, but at the same time, he enjoys this building up a little bit too much. Her degrading words made him angry and ashamed at the same time. He is ashamed, that he, the famous Aegon Targaryen, so easily gets walked over. Walked over by a woman even! He is ashamed for liking it so much and feels ashamed he wants to please her. He does not do the pleasing, he is the one who usually is pleased.

Her hand slowly wanders into his underwear, her fingers stroke his pubes. Aegon mentally scolds himself for not shaving. But all his worrisome thoughts disappear when her hand slowly strokes his shaft.

“Such a good boy you are, at least you remembered rule number two.” Her thumb finds his head, circling around it, making her and his skin coated with pre cum. “Manners are what keeps the world spinning after all.” Aegon wants to argue and tell her that strong and rich men keep the world spinning. But for once he is smart and keeps his mouth shut. He knows she’s not happy with him, and he does not like it when she becomes cruel.

“How shall I punish you tonight? Will I make you come so many times you’ll remember who the real conqueror is? Or will I give you nothing at all?” Her hand curls around his cock, her nails pressed harshly into the flesh. Aegon lets out a pained yelp, tears well up in his purple eyes.

“Please don’t, I’ll be good.”

“If only you had thought about being ‘good’ sooner.” She does not loosen her grip, on the contrary, she presses her nails deeper into his sensitive flesh. Aegon his cry is filled with agony, he is afraid she will draw blood.

“I am sorry, I promise I will never do it again.” His voice comes out desperate, he hates himself for being this weak. The humiliation of it colouring his cheeks a rosy tint. She lets go of him and movies off him. Aegon resist the urge to touch where it hurts, instead he watches how she lowers herself. Her bare knees hit the carpet. She pulls his pants down to his ankles, his legs forced apart by her hands.

“No, you will indeed never do it again. Or this will be the last time you’ll be in my mouth.”

She kisses his upper thigh first. Her lips hit the spot where she had been hurting him before.

Her left elbow leans upon his knee, her cleavage pushed against his legs, as she leans forward to touch him again.

Aegon watches how her hand moves down from the tip to the base. His skin is still a bit sore, but Aegon forgets about the pain when her lips are wrapped around his head.

Aegon brings his hands to her head. His neck snaps back, and his eyes close, as he revells in the feeling her warm, wet mouth brings him. But the feeling doesn’t remain there for too long, because only seconds later she releases him from her mouth again.

“Don’t move, or it will be over.” She warns

She takes him slowly, her eyes locked with his. His cock is shiny with spit, her low moans vibrating against his skin.

Aegon really hates it when people are loud chewers. Hates the sound of people eating apples in the office, and despises the sounds girls make when they ‘seductively’ try to suck their iced coffees through a straw. He dislikes it so much it gives him goosebumps and makes him want to snap out to the ones making the disgusting eating sounds.

But the sounds that are produced as she sucks him off, are sounds that no matter how nasty they are, will never annoy him.

He feels like a true king, the way how her head moves up and down between his legs. He will never be able to sit in front of his father’s desk again without remembering what is happening right now. And it feels so good, the way she takes him deeper and deeper. Her tongue slid against the sensitive skin where her nails were before.

His hips buck up, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth. He can feel it hit the back of her throat. The gagging sound she makes, makes him moan.

She presses her nails harshly into his thigh, changing his moan into a yelp of pain. For a moment, Aegon almost forgot who the real power had. Her teeth scrape against his cock as a final warning.

She only sucks the tip now, her tongue swirling around it, to let it pop out of her mouth only a second later. She looks up to his face, brows furrowed. “I told you not to move, Aegon.” The way she says his name makes him feel like a small child and he hates it.

He almost wants to cry when she stands up, ignoring his cock completely. He was so close to coming, painfully close. The tip of his cock is red and leaking with precum. “Not fair.” Aegon groans. “I was so close to making your mouth into a daycare.”

She ignores his disgusting joke. “Why did you break the rule, Aeg?” Her hands move beneath her dress, pulling her panties down in one motion.

Truth be told, he did not like how the other men were talking about her. He was not sure if it was him being possessive, or his ego that needed stroking. There is nothing better than letting dull people know you’re having (or fucking) what they want.

“I guess I didn’t like the way they talked about you.” Her eyes grow larger after his sentence, she clearly did not expect this answer. She climbs on his lap, her hands hold his face, her thumbs stroke over his burning cheeks. Her fingers move into his hair, to the back of his head. This moment feels strangely intimate, and it makes him more uncomfortable than her degrading words do.

“What were they saying?”

Aegon swallows.

“Filthy things only I am allowed to say.”

She kisses him for the first time this night and Aegon is grateful for it. He tastes himself in her mouth, her lips still wet with spit and him. He is fully aware of the fact she’s not wearing panties. Now her dress had ridden up her legs, he can finally feel her warm and wet core against him. Oh, how he wants to be inside her, to feel her cunt clench around his cock when he takes some of his control back. His painful erection hits her leg, as she moves up to deepen the kiss.

“Let me make it up to you.” He is almost willing to beg for it at this point, his hands stroking her back in an attempt to convince her he deserves it. “Please, I want to make you feel good.” She laughs hard at this. “The only thing you want is to fuck me. To spill inside me and to go back to your ‘dominant’ self after.”

She of course is right, but Aegon is too desperate and horny to fight her. “Please, I think I learned my lesson. I want you so bad, please, I would do anything.” She grabs his shoulder, leaning a bit back. The hand that is not holding onto his shoulders moves between her legs.

She’s touching herself, Aegon can’t see what exactly she’s doing beneath her dress, but he knows he wants to be the one to do it. “Anything you say?” Her head tilted to the right, her eyes finding his purple ones.

“Anything.”

She loosens up his tie, pulling the green silk fabric from his neck. His mother had made him wear it, said it belongs to his father.

“Hold your hands together.” Aegon raises his brow. “What?” She slaps his tie against his chest. “Do you want to fuck me or not Aegon?” There, she does it again. Saying his name like he is a piece of trash she needs to clean up. He does what he is told, pushing his wrists against each other.

She ties his hands together with the green silk. Making sure he cannot touch her and control what is about to happen.

She sinks down on him, her skin slapping against his. Aegon’s groans are filling up the office, as she sets the pace. Finally, he is inside her, but he can’t move, he can’t do anything. He is completely at her mercy. He hates that he loves it, to be commanded and tied up by her. She takes him so well, every inch of him filling her as if she was made to do so.

Her right hand is around his throat, pushing his head back. He is so stimulated, so embarrassingly close to his release already.

“You feel so good, baby.” His voice is low, and his eyes are closed.

“You better don’t come before I do.” She says then, but it is too late. Her words make him give in to his release.

In a way it is to punish her, Aegon hates that he likes what she does to him. Hates she is the one who can dominate him. So he climaxes, curses falling from his mouth. Her eyes narrowed, as his hips thrust upwards in the last moments of his aftershock.

He expects her to pull him out, to slap him maybe. Instead, she keeps on moving, in a frantic, rough manner.

It hurts so much, his soft flesh being ridden like this. Her moans are loud, drowning out his moans of pain. “The fuck you thought, coming before I came?” She slaps him.

“Shut up, I hate it when you act all silly and hurt when you get what you deserve.” Aegon his head falls back, feeling a bit foolish for liking the pain.

And when she finally comes, Aegon is panting as loud as she is. She kisses him on the mouth when she finally allows him to slip out of her. “I think you learned your lesson now.”

He can’t help but smile, for the game is over. They can go back to who they are now.

“Keep fucking me like that and I’ll tell father to hire you,” Aegon says. “And when I take over, you can be my assistant.”

He wants to fuck her on every surface in this office. Fuck her against the window while they watch the cars drive by. Fuck her on the plush couch his father always makes him wait on. Make her suck him off while he has online meetings, and let her ride his face while she makes important calls.

“Assitant?” She says in a mocking tone, destroying his fantasies. “I am made to lead, Aegon. Never to serve.”

She loosens up the tie, freeing his hands. She puts her panties back on and straightens her dress. “Clean up your face, it’s covered in my lipstick.” She advises him before leaving him alone.

Aegon grins as he watches her leave, oh, this is just the beginning.

--

@laedeviour @aegonswife

[sagesolsticewrites]

No ones written for Curtis yet !! (Masters of the air) if you wanted and didn’t have any ideas, what about they meet at a pub - he’s loud she’s quiet but he charms his way in ? Something sweet to take away episode threes pain

Thank you so much for requesting, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! Our boy Curt deserves some love, too! 🥺 And… what Episode Three? I have no memory of Episode Three, all that happened in Ep 3 was our boys had a big mission and then they all 👀👀👀 made it home safe 😇

(Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

To the Rescue

You thank the bartender with a smile before turning towards your usual spot along the wall, martini safely clutched in your hands. The pub was positively crawling with soldiers— which was exactly the reason your friends had dragged you out of the apartment tonight.

“You need to get out more!” They insisted as they wrestled your hair into something slightly more stylish, Dot digging through her wardrobe for something suitable for you to wear.

“There’ll be plenty of very handsome soldiers there,” she had said, producing the soft blue dress you had subsequently been forced into, “It’ll be good for you to meet someone!”

You settle against the wall, resisting the urge to yank out the pins digging into your scalp, instead taking a sip of your martini as you scan the crowd.

Your friends had seemingly already chosen their targets for tonight— you spot Ruthie chatting to a blonde Brit over by the bar, and Dot had already managed to drag some poor soldier onto the dance floor with her and her two left feet.

Despite what your friends thought, you were perfectly happy being a wallflower. You enjoyed people watching— just as entertaining as normal conversation without the stress of having to contribute, you had once joked.

The theory was proven as you scanned over the crowd, picking up snippets of conversation, stories, jokes… usually coming from a particularly boisterous soldier speaking loud enough to be heard throughout the whole bar with a distinctive accent— New York or somewhere thereabouts, you guessed.

“Hey there, honey.”

Every part of you cringes inwardly at the voice interrupting your thoughts. British, you note immediately, with that hint of bravado that signaled he didn’t much care for your parts of the conversation— he was just looking to show off for his friends.

You couldn’t very well ignore him, though, and you try to hide your exasperation as best you can.

“Can I help you?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed a bit lonely over here, figured you could use some company. Maybe a drink, maybe a dance…” the Brit grins, and you take notice of the pins decorating both his and his friends’ jackets— RAF boys. Ugh.

“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” you assure them with the politest smile you can muster.

“Aw, come on,” one of his buddies speaks up, “Just one dance?”

At the clear refusal of that request, the other man that was with them chimes in.

“Or how about I buy you a drink? Seems like you could use a fresh one,” he says, nodding towards the martini glass in your hand— the one that was still nearly full.

“Thank you, but I’m alright, really…”

You attempt to edge away from them, mind racing for a way to politely let them down so they’d leave you alone.

Just then, a thick New York drawl breaks through the unsuccessful attempts at flirting, a welcome relief from the unfamiliar English accents.

“There you are, sweetheart,” the soldier says loudly, leading you away from the RAF boys, “Been lookin’ for you everywhere!”

One arm slung over your shoulder, he leans down to whisper in your ear “Trust me, okay?”

Speaking loudly enough to be heard by the other soldiers, he began leading you to a secluded booth in the corner, “I got us a table over here…”

As you slide into the booth, he turns to the RAF boys with a fierce warning glare and a subtle cracking of his knuckles, unseen by you.

The Brits scramble to find other targets, and the soldier — you still haven’t gotten his name — returns his attention to you.

“I’m sorry, I hope I didn’t overstep,” he says, “You just, uh… seemed like you weren’t havin’ too good of a time over there.”

“No, it’s fine,” you assure him softly, shaking your head, “Thank you, um…”

He seems to realize what you’re waiting for, and sweeps into a bow as he introduces himself.

“Lieutenant Curtis Biddick, at your service,” he says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face. “But everyone calls me Curt,” he adds, straightening up.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as you smile and nod in acknowledgement, and then realize that you have absolutely no idea what to say now.

“…Well,” the soldier— Curt— says, once it becomes clear you’re not going to say anything, “I’ll leave you be, but if those guys bother you again just gimme a holler, yeah? I’ll sort ‘em out.”

“Wait!” You say as he turns to go, the loudest you’ve spoken all evening.

You pray the flush in your cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light of the pub as he turns back and you say hesitantly, “You can… stay, if you like.”

You gesture to the empty space of the booth, but add hurriedly, “Or if you don’t want to— I’m sure you’d rather—”

“I’d like that very much,” he says with a smile, cutting off your nervous rambling.

He slides into the booth across from you rather than next to you, to your surprise, giving you enough space to feel comfortable.

“So, are you ever gonna tell me your name, or am I just gonna keep calling you sweetheart all night?” He asks, adding a wink to make sure you know he’s teasing.

You tell him, just barely loud enough to be heard over the band, and he grins, testing out the pronunciation. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Like with most compliments, you’re not sure how to respond until—

“I don’t normally look like this,” you find yourself saying and oh of all the times you had to actually start talking, why did it have to be now? “I mean— my friends decided to doll me up for tonight, but I’m not normally—” You trail off as your mouth finally takes the hint to stop talking now and silently pray for the ground to swallow you.

“Hey, I should ask them for some tips,” is all Curt says, though, and you find yourself fighting off a smile as he rambles on about ��wanting to find something for myself, it feels like everyone’s doin’ the same thing these days…”

The way he sighs forlornly, staring out at the sea of uniforms identical to his, is what breaks you, and the two of you collapse into peals of laughter.

You hear your name being called, and turn to see Ruthie — apparently having abandoned the blonde Brit— flagging you down, until she realizes you have company.

“Oh— sorry!” She says, before gesturing to where your other friend seems to have gotten a bit too deep in her cups, “I’m gonna take Dot home. You take your time, though!” She adds, nodding towards Curt encouragingly in her usual unsubtle manner.

You wave her off and tell her to be safe, blushing furiously at the expression on Curt’s face— he looks entirely too amused by Ruthie’s reaction.

“She gonna be okay?” He asks first, though, nodding towards where Ruthie’s leading Dot out the door.

As you assure him your friends will be perfectly fine, he nods, seeming to consider you for a moment.

“You don’t get out much, do you?”

You nearly choke mid-sip of your martini, surprised at his bluntness.

“What gave it away?” You manage to quip once you’ve recovered, waving off his concern.

“Your friend there,” he nods to the door, “I’ve seen my fair share of girls excited that their friend snagged a soldier, but… never that excited.” He concludes with a laugh.

“I guess I’ve always found all this,” you gesture to the room around you: the dancing, the laughter and occasional shouts from the soldiers, the music, “a bit much? I’ve never really been one for parties or bars or… any kind of socializing, really. Ruthie and Dot were plenty eager to get me out of the apartment for once, though.”

“Well I, for one,” Curt says with a crooked grin, “am very glad they did.”

You meet his gaze for a moment before smiling down at your lap, “So am I.”

The two of you continue talking through the night— Curt dominates the conversation, but in a way that you don’t mind; he fills what would normally be an awkward silence for you with jokes and stories, all the while leaving enough space for you to chime in when you feel like it.

The pub empties as the night goes on, and before too long it’s only the two of you and a handful of other people remaining.

You glance at your watch, wincing as you realize how late it’s gotten.

Curt takes note, already moving to stand as if he had meant to be heading back at this hour and asking with a smile:

“Can I walk you home?”

The easy conversation continues on the short walk to your building, and you find yourself on the front walk with Curt, dreading the moment he walks away.

“Wait— I—” you interrupt as he opens his mouth to bid you goodnight, digging in your small clutch for any scrap of paper you can find.

Producing a torn piece of what apparently used to be a grocery list and a small pen, you scribble down your address, holding it out to him.

“Write to me?”

A bright grin transforms his face as he tucks it away in his breast pocket, next to his heart, “I’d love to.”

The two of you simply… stand there in the moonlight, grinning at each other.

Your gaze scans over him, taking in the hat sitting at a jaunty angle on his head, his slightly crooked tie, the equally crooked grin of this boy who took you under his wing for the night.

Summoning all your courage, you rock up onto your toes to press a quick kiss on his cheek.

As your turn to sprint into your building, though, something stops you.

Or more specifically, someone.

Curt reaches out and grabs your hand, pulling you back towards him. You’re the closest you’ve been to him all night, barely a breath in between the two of you.

He scans your face, gaze dipping down to your lips then back up, searching for permission.

At your almost imperceptible nod, he dips down and captures your lips in a surprisingly gentle kiss.

Warmth blooms in your chest, spreading through you down to your toes in the brief eternity his lips are on yours.

He pulls away, remaining close enough that your noses brush as his thumb caresses your cheek.

“Sweetheart, when I get back to base,” he begins softly, “I am writing you the cheesiest, corniest love letter you’ve ever seen.”

His laughter is infectious, and you hope your giggles hide the flush on your face at the mention of love.

“I look forward to it,” you simply say, barely able to speak around the grin on your face.

With one last gentle kiss planted on your cheek, he bids you goodnight, and you float into your apartment, waiting impatiently for a love letter from Curtis Biddick.

[delcakoo]

Getting giggly thinking about Prince Yeonjun meeting his princess for the first time? Also why were up at 1 am 🤨🤨🤨

PRINCE YEONJUN I LITERALLY YELPED RAVEN ILY FOR THIS. oh. and uh… i was uh.. doing important things!! 😇 anywaYs enjoy jshsjs

9:02AM — “yeonjun, tuck your shirt in for the last time,” a strict, female voice barks in the distance.

you awkwardly balance your weight from one heel to another as your soon-to-be husband paces over to you, rolling his foxy eyes whilst his mother sends him strict side glares.

the prince looks as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world; gloved hands digging into his pockets unceremoniously and plush lips formed in a subtle frown.

nonetheless, your own mother’s face brightens with each and every step they take. “smile, honey,” she reminds passive aggressively.

“why, you both look simply ethereal!” yeonjun’s mother compliments once they come to a stop, bowing with gracefulness that her son begrudgingly copies.

while the queen’s blabber on and feed each other sweet talk, yeonjun finally returns your gaze. he scans you up and down, seemingly unimpressed by his default expression. your brows furrow, feeling offended by the male’s lack of respect and decency.

was this rude, stuck up jerk really the man you’d be married off to?

“well, how about we let them introduce themselves on their own while i fetch you a cup of tea?” your mother offers, extending a gloved hand out to miss choi.

“that sounds delightful.” with one last squeeze to her son’s shoulder, the queen leans in, whispering something unreadable against his ear before prancing off elegantly.

now, only you and yeonjun remain outside the palace. he makes no move to do anything, so you reluctantly take charge despite only wanting to scold him for his awful, un-princely attitude. “i’ll show you around.” you don’t give him time to refuse, making your way inside with confident steps.

luckily, the prince doesn’t put up much of a fight; black dress shoes clicking and alerting you of his looming presence close behind.

you pause in the first hallway with a nervous gulp. “so.. this is where we—“

“what do you want?” the black haired boy rudely interrupts.

you frown, “pardon?”

he rolls his eyes yet again, and you resist the urge to comment on how it’ll get stuck there if he didn’t stop. “fortune? pleasure? fame?” he lists off as if he’d said it a billion times before, eyes drifting off to a nearby painting hanging delicately. “which one?”

squinting, you try to study his features and read his emotions, but as usual they offer you nothing. “uh, none?” you reply honestly, and at last, yeonjun turns to face you in peaked curiosity. “i just want to make my parents happy.”

yeonjun hates the fact that he falls for your confident tone and body language. “well, me too,” he mumbles so softly that you nearly miss it.

“then.. why is it that you’ve broken up with all.. what even is it now— ten of your past wives?” you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting it out, even if it was definitely a question for another day.

however, the choi family’s son seems to care even less. “they were all just using me for different reasons,” he replies instantly. “not a single one actually gave a shit about me as a person, so why should i allow them to sleep next to me in my bed?”

you blink at his honesty, nodding in understanding, “that makes sense.”

yeonjun snaps his head over to you, face still blank, but eyed widened a fraction. “it- it does?”

“uh.. yeah?”

he gulps, unsure of what to say. “sorry, it’s just.. i’m usually told that i’m wrong and i should just learn to accept it.”

feeling proud that he’s opening up to you, you quickly reply with something a princess should definitely not say. “well they’re all dickheads, aren’t they?” yeonjun nearly chokes, coughing in surprise before a laugh tumbles out of his lips. his brown, fox eyes crinkle softly, and you can’t help but think he looks shockingly cute like this. “what?” you ask through your own giggles.

“i’ve never heard a princess say such a word,” he cackles.

“well, i suppose you’ll have to give me a chance if you’d like to hear more.” you wiggle your brows playfully, a mischievous smirk still on your lips.

then, the prince does something he’s never done to a girl before (at least, out of his own free will). with a few steps towards you, yeonjun wraps his arm around your waist, leading you off to where your mother’s wait in the dining hall. maybe he’s gullible, maybe this was all a set up and you were simply a wonderful actor.

but at least for now, yeonjun felt genuine hope. “i think i will, princess.”

this was prob not what u expected sorry for the slight angst 🫶 also ten wives was supposed to be an exaggeration if u couldn’t tell 😭😭

[canmom]

NieR Automata anime episode 7-8

Continuing commentary from [part 1], [part 2-3], [part 4-5] and [part 6].

So much to catch up on so I'll keep commentary pretty sparse this time!

Episode 7: [Q]uestionable Actions

Episode 7 serves to introduce A2 in the present...

It does this by using the premise of one of the more memorable sidequests in the game, where one of the Machine Lifeforms in Pascal's village asks you to save her little sister. In the game, this is an escort quest in the desert area, in which there is an extended conversation with the little sister android. Here, it's sending us to the Forest Kingdom early - no meeting with Emil, Engels attacking the city, or encounter with the alien ship just yet.

In the Forest Kingdom, we get a very compressed version of the kingdom's backstory and founding by Ernst, and the creation of the little robot baby Immanuel who's supposed to inherit it (these names aren't given in the anime, and only barely mentioned in the game)...

...but most of the forest machines have been massacred by A2. The machine interactions are played mostly for humour here, with the Little Sister declaring that she wants to start a family with one of the forest guards, and Pascal jumping on the concept enthusiastically.

We also have 9S finally warm to Pascal a bit through the old narrative expedient of 'sudden accident that lets the character save your life'...

A shot that raises all kinds of architectural questions we probably shouldn't get into. It's kinda clumsy but there's a lot of game to compress into a short time, so it makes sense to cut 9S gradually warming to Pascal.

Anyway, the star of the show is of course A2, who enters in her inimitable baby-stabbing way:

After an all-too-brief fight with 2B, A2 jumps out the window - something maybe a little more motivated because her Type-4O Sword breaks so she can't really stay and fight. This mostly serves to introduce the conflict with command to 2B and 9S, and motivate 9S to start digging around for dirty secrets.

One thing that isn't really addressed in either the game or this anime is that, according to the concert audio dramas, the androids sent after A2 previously were... 2B and 9S, and A2 got pretty damn good at beating them. Perhaps this explains why she doesn't bother to say many words to them here.

Other than that, we also get Adam and Eve discussing Sartre:

Much as in the game, Eve doesn't have much interest in Adam's books and philosophy, and Adam treats him condescendingly like a child. I mention this shot mostly because I think it's the first time the "existence precedes essence" quote actually appears in the story, for all its engagement with existentialist philosophy.

The final post-credits bit sees puppet A2 killing puppet Pascal...

...just before he can tell us about the dragons in the Kingdom of Night! Grah! They'll keep teasing us with this forever it seems like...

Episode 8: aji wo [K]utta?

If episode 7 took us to the Forest Kingdom zone, this one is focused on the Flooded City area. They clearly referenced the game pretty closely for the backgrounds - I could recognise specific locations, such as the ramp with a bus leading in to the zone.

Picking up pretty directly where episode 7 ended, 2B and 9S are sent on the trail of A2. 9S is getting pretty suspicious of Command already, and when 2B chides him to stay on mission, he goes behind her back. But not before they can hang out a bit at the seaside!

If there's one thing I can respect this adaptation for, it's that it understands the importance of quiet character moments. Fully half this episode is spent just on 2B getting persuaded to stand in water and this is entirely a correct adaptational decision.

Also a 6O lesbian moment:

The pair are looking for Jackass for a lead on A2, after Lily refuses to tell them anything. 9S gets them to split up so he can do some snooping. So 2B is the one to find Jackass, who gets to have the kind of moment that would have been hard to do in the game...

...hanging out in a swimsuit with scarf and combat boots, fishing with grenades, and offering 2B the deadly, delicious mackerel.

All these cute moments lead into a gradual turn towards horror as 9S is cut off from 2B. In the game, I recall this happens after the fight with Grün, which is almost entirely cut in this adaptation - the most we see is a silhouette that looks kind of like the defeated Grün on the skyline early on:

A reasonable thing to cut; Grün in the game is a cool boss fight but not very important to the story (a bit of a jarring nonsequitur really).

Anyway, after taking advantage of 21O to spy on command, 9S gets to hear the Commander talking to the Council of Humanity. They mention, rather cryptically, something called 'Contact Plan B' - which I don't remember being an element in the game and could be the first seeds of a story divergence.

Someone - it's Adam of course - sets up a comms jammer and 9S finds his way into a room full of fanart of him and 2B. I wonder if they put out a call for fanart, or even just scraped it from the internet, because the styles and skill levels are pretty damn varied:

Would definitely be curious if anyone has tracked down sources of any of these pictures.

9S gradually transfers into hacking space, indicated in this anime by black letterboxing bars, as the environment gets more surreal. Whoops! He's been nabbed by Adam. In the game, he pretty much just wakes up in hacking space after the battle with Grün so this is a cool variation.

Thanks to the final arc of NieR Reincarnation, we now know that all the variations of NieR are 'explained', in a sense, by an obscenely complicated time loop premise involving the records of humanity and the AIs assigned to look after them. So, is the game canon or this anime? Yes. The real question is whether the variation from the game is going to be limited to this kind of minor story reshuffling, or if they'll make bigger divergences in season 2. I wouldn't put anything past Yoko Taro, but I've got a lot of catching up to do before I find out...

The ending skit for episode 8 is just a letter from (game producer) Yosuke Saito followed by the mackerel bit, thus explaining the episode title: アジを食った aji o kutta, which can be translated as 'I ate a mackerel' but is also a pun on 'I experienced a flavour'. (It's mostly known in English as the name of the ending of NieR Automata where you eat a mackerel and immediately die).

Feels good to be back on this anime! More to come soon hopefully!

[inuhalfdemon]

No One Can Know... (3/?)

Word Count: 1,186 Words

Rating: Explicit (Violence/Gore)

Chapter 3

"I can be your heavenly or I can be your hell

I can say a prayer for you or I can cast a spell

I push you to the darkness just to pull you to the light

'Cause I can take away your breath or I can bring you back to life..."

- In This Moment

Directly following the events of Lucifer’s visit: Alastor smoothly shifted from the shadows, materializing himself into the midst of his radio station that was attached to the hotel. He glared at Lucifer, the fallen angel languidly stretched out fully and comfortably in his chair beside the radio control panel; a large shit-eating grin across his face. 

"What are you doing here?" Alastor asked him, lowly. 

"Charlie invited me." Lucifer's grin actually widened. 

"I'm well aware." Alastor bit back. "I mean what are you doing here? Now? Don't you have a meeting to arrange?" 

"It's already done." Lucifer shrugged. "Lilith has it all taken care of. I'm here to check-in; suck your dick if you’d like. You seem a little...tense." 

"I decline. Now get out." 

"You're sure?" Lucifer asked him, laughing. "It wouldn't take long and I assure you, I'm quite good." 

Alastor bristled. 

Normally, he wouldn't let the man get so under his skin... However, these past couple of days, Alastor had been feeling the beginnings of an impending rut. He was refusing to admit that little bit of honesty to himself, though, let alone Lucifer. There was still too much to do yet; the extermination was merely a couple months away....he didn't have time for such nonsense. 

"You seem like you could really use it, too." Lucifer was digging in. "Aren't you supposed to be protecting this place? I thought the radio demon avoided all that kind of riff-raff." 

"I took care of it." 

"Hm, yes. I saw. A very intimidating display. You know, had you been better at addressing Charlie's needs here, I never would have gotten to see it." 

"I haven't heard any complaints from…my Queen." Alastor told him.

"Nor would you..." Lucifer sighed; getting up from the chair now and walking over to where Alastor stood. "She seems rather fond of her new...pet." 

Alastor fought to maintain his composure at this; the remark effectively agitating an already struck nerve. Lucifer smirked at this; enjoying the effect his little planned comment had made. He hadn’t missed the little discussion Alastor had had with the bartender; just one of the unfortunate souls Alastor still had bound by his chain.

Lucifer stopped; standing very close to Alastor now. 

"Last chance. We could whip this out right now and you can go enjoy yourself a nice cigarette." Lucifer leaned in, his eyes darting to Alastor's crotch then back again; his eyebrows bouncing in a overly dramatic and suggestive way. 

"Must you act like that?" Alastor hissed. 

"Like what?" 

"A child?" Alastor glared. 

"How should I act, to you, Alastor? Is it so important to you that I display myself in frightening and intimidating ways so that others may respect and fear me every moment they are within my presence? I am well aware of the power that I command; I don't have to be concerned with what others believe or may think...that would possibly suggest a significant level of...insecurity."

Alastor growled; his eyes glowing a soft red. 

"Well, that turned you on." Lucifer quipped. 

"You know," Alastor's eyes flared redder. "I almost want to let you..." Alastor reached out, clawed fingers curled - he set his hand beneath the King's chin, leaning in.

Alastor's shadow slipped from him; sliding along a darkened corner and rising slowly behind Lucifer.

"If only to watch you choke on my cock; jammed deep into your throat as I utterly wreck that pretty face of yours."

Alastor's shadow pressed in closer, clawed hands reaching...

"Oh, so you think I'm pretty?" Lucifer blurted, rather cockily.

Alastor's eyes narrowed. "You'd be beautiful...gasping and choking beneath me...wondering at just how a fallen angel ever could manage to sink so low..." 

"Uh, huh." Lucifer had had enough.

Alastor's shadow darted for him but before it could touch the angel it was struck sharply by the end of a brightly glowing and golden chain. Hissing and spitting, Alastor's shadow fled. Alastor barely had time to flinch before Lucifer turned the chain on him; sending it to tighten around his neck and hoisting him sharply upwards so that he was kicking and strangling in its grip. Moving; the chain drug him backwards, slamming him painfully into a wall and holding him fast.

“Your pillow talk really needs some work.” Lucifer told him, darkly as he approached him.  

Alastor still struggling; choked against the chain. Reaching out, Lucifer clenched Alastor’s side with sharpened talons; claws sinking into his hip and holding him firmly in place against the wall. Gasping; all the remaining air left Alastor’s lungs and his struggles drastically lessened.

“Now.” Lucifer flicked a sharpened claw; tracing it over Alastor’s fine pin-striped suit – sharply cutting into it and the soft cavity of Alastor’s abdomen – just below the sternum. “Let’s discuss this rather poor attitude of yours.”

Pulling the claw down; Lucifer gutted the radio demon like a fish. Alastor gave a garbled cry; writhing against the chain and against the wall – his blood and guts spilling into Lucifer’s outstretched hands.

Twisting the writhing intestines between his fingers; Lucifer stared up at the look of pure look of manic horror that was Alastor’s face. The sinner was still smiling but his ears where laid flat to his head in complete and desperate submission; his eyes wide and panicked; his body flaying less and less…

“I don’t care what you think of me, Alastor.” Lucifer said, softly. “You walk a rather treacherous path, my friend. Never let your detestation – no matter how great - cloud your perceptions of someone… You may think little of me but that does not change the amount of power I have at my command.” He gripped the moving intestines tightly in his hands and Alastor shrieked; foaming at the mouth.

“Lilith requires your services, you bastard.” Lucifer continued. “I cannot take that from her; but I can put you in your place.”

Alastor’s body had stopped it’s flaying - going limp now; his consciousness quickly fading.

Sighing; Lucifer released him. The intestines pulled from his hands; curling themselves back into Alastor’s cavity – his abdomen and suit zipping themselves neatly closed as if Lucifer had merely pulled down on a zipper. The golden chain came loose; dropping Alastor unceremoniously onto the ground.    

Alastor fell forward; his body violently shaking as he heaved in great gulps of air and tried to process what the fuck had just happened.

Rolling his eyes; Lucifer turned and walked away – throwing up a swirling golden portal with a wave of the hand.

“Per our deal, I leave you to it. Call on me when or if you require it.” Lucifer told him.

Alastor shakily rose himself from the ground so that he was knelt before Lucifer on his knees – still clutching for air and ears pulled back; staring crazily at the King. Lucifer’s eyes shifted to the seam of his pants. Raising an eyebrow just before he stepped away and into the portal he said; “You’ll have to take care of that one yourself.” – referring to the very distinct tent that jutted from the layer of fabric between Alastor’s legs – leaving the radio demon alone: feeling rather whipped and humiliated.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 4

[mrs-monaghan]

Do you have a video for the bv4 instance that you guys mentioned where jk had to collect himself?

Hello my dear. Mizgator our queen of analysis talks about it here starting from the 14:12 minute mark. She explains the sexual tension though but doesn't bring up the footsie. So it will be my pleasure 😁😁😁

First of all. Here is JK shamelessly turning on his man. Before we continue there's a few things you have to understand. BTS were on break and Jimin went to Paris and Hawaii while JK stayed in SK. (Yes they saw eo for a few hours for JK's surprise bday but I'm sure it wasn't enough. No way) So they didn't see eo much. And BV 4 started like as soon as Jimin landed. Like he came home the day before and then the next day they were shooting BV4 ep 1. So my guess is, Jikook had not...... well. They had not. Alright? Not for a while anyway. So a simple footsie like that, would have driven anyone crazy. Especially if your sex life is usually off the chain. Which by some of the things we have accidentally witnessed, I think its safe to say Jikook know how to have fun.

JK said yes. He enjoyed having his hands tied during ON 😏😏

Tweet

Now I'm not saying these motherfuckers are kinky, but that's exactly what I'm saying 🙈

Okay. So anon this is the sequence. JK's toes are proper digging into his boyfriend's leg. And Jimin can pretend he is not paying attention because he's busy talking, but that man can feel every, single, press of what JK is doing

If you watch the video I linked above JK was proper pressing in on Jimin's leg. There is no way to ignore that.

Then suddenly Jhope asks Jimin;

And that's when JK gets up to leave. He was like; babe, you're on your own 🤣 And Jimin answers while looking at JK who is leaving;

Jhope for some reason keeps probing. 😂😂Note RM has his eyes on JK. This man knows Jikook and knows them very well. He was sus of JK and that's why he's watching him.

Lets keep in mind that indeed this room was actually very hot. SOPE switched seats because it was too hot. So keep in mind that this room is HOT. Okay? It's important.

So after getting the 3rd degree from Hobi as to why he was hot or if he was embarassed, Jimin gives the game away by looking at the Jimcock. Now this, is what let me know the dude was in hornyland.

What are u looking at Jimin? 🧐 what did JK do to you? 🤭🤭 So anyway, the culprit comes back with a whole ass coat on. Remember how we said the room was hot? Yeah.... why does JK have a coat on??

So anon like u mentioned, here is where Jikookers think JK went to the bathroom or outside to cool off/collect himself because he was hard. But I, think JK went to grab this coat so he could cover the Jungkonda. He didn't leave for long and when he came back he worked real hard to keep that place covered. So mans was still h.a.r.d

Moving on swiftly, Jimin pulls a Suga, and refuses to look up during the group toast.

Gee, I wonder why 🤔

So I know Jikook were sharing a room. Now while I believe they cuddled and then went back to their respective beds in the morning for shooting, I dont believe that's where the love making took place. I believe it was in the RV outside. No one was was using it and everyone was inside and they could be as loud as they wanted get all the privacy they needed. It had been a while. Privacy was required 😉

Damn. See why I said this blog aint for underage peeps? Anyway. Jikook is real.

[bittrlys]

TDP s4, huh?

THE GOOD

Claudia was on FIRE

Claudia getting actually cool wings unlike Callum's dorky arm wings >>>>>>>>>>>

Terry and Viren's various bonding moments

Terry following a dark path out of love of Claudia as Claudia followed a dark path out of love for Viren ... ZESTY

Terry being down to clown with dark magic

Claudia saying she'll take care of Viren

Viren's "GET A GRIP" lmao

PTSD Viren, his melancholy and uncertainty, etc.

Aaravos blowing a kiss and destroying the mirror, iconic behaviour I will say

Claudia getting to acknowledge the existence of generational trauma even if she's wrong and bad and has no evidence or whatever else the show probably wants us to think

Rex Igneous dragging Thunder even if he's wrong and bad and has no evidence or whatever else the show probably wants us to think

Rayla's new hair

THE BAD

World's most unnecessary time skip

Would it have killed them to write Callum with more maturity and confidence?

Everyone enjoy this charming child ruler who makes guards exert the extra energy to open doors for his frog dog and seems to have done away with almost all of the kingdom's old advisors so he can appoint close personal friends instead

"YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY? SAY IT DIRECTLY TO THE DRAGON THAT CAN BITE YOUR FACE OFF" wow lol

"IDK I have no evidence elves and dragons were shitty to humans" girl what? Even if it wasn't written down (OK) that would mean an oral tradition which I guess we can't have any respect for 😊

"You threatening those gold coins (which I don't even know are real and not a bluff) to get the person threatening to slit my throat to let me go (they refused to bargain with you) was so CRUEL, Claudia." <- normal things for your bf who has been on board with all your other unspeakable crimes to say

If Zubeia is going to be useless (couldn't she have been digging out that door?) and then just show up at the end for deus ex machina reasons, can they just uh. Kill her off? I promise the narrative would improve

Zubeia standing amongst those humans like 🧍 while Ezran talks vaguely of 'hurt feelings' praying nobody says the word 'reparations'

Dragons and drakes are different things. OK. Drakes are more animalistic so it's okay for this insular society to mistreat them despite being ruled by dragons. OK. Why not show the hypocrisy of this by having Zym (whom they acknowledge as a dragon) treated differently? Or would a reminder of Zym's privilege be too much for this show?

(Humans get the boot for killing animals but elves get a pass for treating drakes like that. OK.)

"THE STAFF IS MISSING THE FALLEN STAR IS COMING BACK" what? the staff has been missing for centuries ... humans have had it ... maybe they just want it back ...?

Ezran like let's host this feelings party in a cemetery/sacred place full of tributes to people this dragon's mate killed ... I would have done more than slash a painting let me tell you that!!!

Not nearly enough Aaravos. A more physical avatar of him being in that cocoon would have made way more sense.

THE UGLY

That architect subplot requires it's own sub-points because ???

Has nobody started a cooking fire or lit a candle in this city in the past TWO YEARS? This is the FIRST TIME this has come up?

The man physically assaulted her over this and there's just never any kind of justice for that huh? Almost like humans are second class citizens? Huh ...

Obviously she was disrespectful but it's such a stupid argument because I think most people in this situation would say "Can you do this elsewhere" but they didn't want to spoil their little 'build a temple outside of this place' twist I guess.

(Their culture is this religious and didn't have some kind of temple or area of religious observance built already? OK.)

Every 'good' human in this series has to be so goddamn SUBSERVIENT to the will and whims of the Xadians

Like when they want to set up a comedy gag of Amaya being terrified of being assassinated by her gf's people because of the horrible history between their nations (lol) Amaya is allowed to express believable self-preservation but when it comes time to defend one of her own people she's just like. EH. She did wrong, but be nice to her about it! Pwetty pwease! Sorry us humans are such dummies!!! 🥺🥺🥺

I know she's not a lawyer but how about "Misunderstandings and hurt feelings can grow unexpectedly when two cultures live together, but this woman did not act out of malice, but out of a desire to protect this settlement. Her words and actions were thoughtless, but if thoughtlessness is to be punished, is having THIRD DEGREE BURNS ON HER HANDS not itself a punishment already?" or you know anything but what we got

But don't worry it's okay because her wifey is so benevolent, aren't we lucky to have such BENEVOLENT people in power who are allowed to call for your death for *checks notes* putting out a fire? They won't, and that's what makes them so GREAT, but they could, of course. Of course they could. Don't forget that. Don't forget that they could. I'll make you think I'm about to cut off your fucking hands so you don't forget it!

Anyways, the rest of the worst hits:

Aaravos is literally just Satan. OK.

Just heavy-handed Christian ideology in a series that wants to purport a kind of cross-cultural paganistic worldview

Honestly I don't think 'worldwide mastermind' is a plot concept without merit but it's so boring in this series because they simply do not seem interested in giving him real depth while placing him on the side of the oppressed-but-not-really humans, reinforcing how much the humans are in the wrong, so absolutely nobody benefits from this writing decision

This season took so long to come out because they were reading the arguments from us 5 people who call them out on writing a weirdly pro-imperialism series and then had to stick in a bunch of strawman scenes to be like "Oh you think this but really it's unfair" and then realized they couldn't think of actual counterarguments and eventually had to admit defeat and just have characters they like go "NUH-UH!!" in response

Fans of the show want to say it's 'nuanced' and 'showing both sides' but that doesn't hold water because A) every person that expresses any kind of doubts or cynicism about the status quo is a villain in this series and B) Unless they plan on Uno reversing their whole lore (wouldn't put it past them) these things DID HAPPEN and if Xadians were meant to be meeting humans halfway, there would seriously be a real discussion about allowing humans a place in Xadia and other shit that simply never comes up

Will Zubeia apologize? No! She just compliments the good humans for dancing to her tune. It's simply so one-sided.

Anyways points for Rayla dumping Callum on his birthday LMAO. It seems a bit thoughtless of her but I can't deny the comedy. 👍

[sapphire-weapon]

What would you say are things Leon is afraid of?

I think Leon's fears are made up entirely of intangible concepts. Like, he doesn't have normal people fears like snakes or clowns or heights.

There's, of course, the really easy obvious fears you can assign to him, like watching someone he loves die while knowing he could've saved them, or whatever bullshit hero thing, but like.

But I think, more than anything, Leon is afraid of himself.

Leon is, theoretically, one of the most powerful men in the world by the time of RE6 and beyond, but he refuses to see himself that way. This is a man with the power to topple the entire US government and destabilize the whole world order as a result -- and he wouldn't even have to really try. It wouldn't take him more than a day.

Because Leon doesn't just have knowledge and information at his disposal. He has the respect of basically every single federal LEO the US has to offer -- and, likely, also a decent chunk of the highest-ranking military officers. When he talks, people listen. And, in RE6, the tiniest baby rookie in the Secret Service named Helena Harper specifically sought him out after she was coerced into doing illegal shit and framed because, if there was any one person in the entire US federal government who could dig her out of the hole that she was in and clear her name just with the power of his word alone and the weight that it carried, it was DSO Special Agent Leon Kennedy.

If he wanted to start a civil war, he could.

Buuuut instead, he sits around drinking himself to death and wondering why his life ended up this way and feeling so completely and utterly trapped.

Acknowledging that he has that power terrifies him, because he has spent so much of his adult life feeling utterly powerless.

I don't think Leon ever learned how to trust his own judgement again after the events of RE2. He learned how to trust his gut and his instinct, and that's what's kept him alive -- but he hasn't made a single major life decision at all since he turned to Claire on the side of the road outside of Raccoon City and told her to leave Sherry with him and go find Chris.

If he were to wake up and acknowledge the sheer amount of power and autonomy he actually had, he would feel obligated to use it, and that is terrifying to him, because he doesn't trust that he'll make the right decisions and use it well.

And I think that's a major reason why he doesn't let anyone ever get close to him, either. If anyone ever got too close to him, they'd see the truth: that he's a spineless coward who has never once stood up for himself in his entire adult life. And if they saw that truth, then he'd have to see it, too -- and to accept that truth would also mean accepting that he does have the power to take control of his life and change his circumstances.

The sad reality is that Leon would rather be alone and live the life of a resentful burnout than make his own decisions, because it's less scary this way.

And it's really time he faced those fears.

[prydainroyals]

CONTENT WARNING: Adult language, emotional/verbal abuse and gaslighting, implications of substance abuse, and mentions of death.

The Prince, the Heir, the--

--Spare, actually, prior to the untimely and tragic death of the King’s firstborn son, Crown Prince William.

The two stood facing one another, cloaked in decades of tense silences and bitter resentment.

The Prince discreetly clenched a fist at his side, not wanting to give his father the emotional reaction he knew the King craved.

The silence lingered between the two men, palpable, thick, and nearly unbearable. It made Arthur want to scream, to lash out; instead, he focused his energy on the nails digging into his palm, on the toes curling in his polished oxfords, in keeping his posture straight, shoulders squared, and his feet firmly planted.

It was like the two of them were just waiting to see who might cave first, and after what seemed like an uncomfortable eternity, it was the King who broke the silence:

“You should have sought my permission to go on this little holiday of yours.”

Arthur set his jaw and said nothing. He detected the faint whiff of his father’s breath and resisted the urge to grimace.

It isn’t a holiday you absolute prick, he thought bitterly, but maintained his stoic silence. Not that you’d get that through your thick skull, you fucking drunk--

Annoyed, the King turned his cold and dismissive gaze away from his son and shifted to focus on the magnificent mural, a point of pride for the country and its history.

“Everyone seems to be very proud of you for it, but I know you better. You’re running away from your duties--”

“--just like you’ve run away from things today, leaving your sister to clean up after you. Should’ve done the family a favor and said you came out first.”

Bait. It’s bait. Don’t take it. Don’t give him the satisfaction.

Arthur clenched his teeth in silence.

“You owe Alice and I an apology.”

As if you give a shit about her feelings, Arthur wanted to say, but did not.

Rather condescendingly, the King made a show of sighing, as if his son was being all too unreasonable in his refusal to speak.

“I should have refused permission--”

“--but Mother insisted I allow you to go,” the King explained airily, albeit with a note of bitterness that Arthur believed was partially true. The Queen Mother was a known political schemer, a shrewd woman, and an absolutely two-faced snake. She would likely say Arthur owed her for this, but he wouldn’t take her bait either. If she had given the King a hard time, it was worth it in Arthur’s book.

He couldn’t hide a small smirk at the thought.

“--Oh don’t you start,” the King snapped, having noticed. “You’re as bad as your mother. At least Alice has the sense to stay focused and remain diplomatic with the rest of the family.”

No one remains sincerely diplomatic with Gwyn the Gargoyle, Arthur thought, now resisting the urge to roll his eyes as he recalled the rather apt nickname for his formiddable grandmother.

Arthur’s decision to remain mute seemed to be getting to the King as the silence continued to stretch, and he shifted from one foot to the other, clearly more and more annoyed at each passing second. 

Arthur knew how much his father liked control--but today was his day, not his father’s, and he would not let the King break him of his dignity and his self-respect. 

Not. Today.

“Wintering over in the Arctic is a dangerous proposition. You’re lucky I’ve even decided to allow this. If something happened to you...”

“. . .”

If something happened to me? Arthur thought, incredulous. A tight, burning anger rose in his chest, those flames fanned by the bellows of a deeply-rooted ache.

“If something happened to me,” Arthur spoke at last, eyes remaining absolutely fixed on the mural ahead of him, “you and Gran would pop the corks and dig the bloody grave yourselves. If you haven’t already.”

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PREV | BEGINNING | NEXT

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[therealnightcity]

2 for Hiro, 1 for Avi and Ares, 16 for Ares :3

Character asks for @a-pirate 🥰🥰

Hiro:

Lt. Mower: What is the worst betrayal your character has faced?

Hiro isn't a stranger towards how self-serving people can be, but by far the worst was Wakako. He grew up thinking he didn't have any family aside from a brother he was estranged from, didn't know that she was his grandmother or that his dad had been her son, estranged from the family, or that he has a half-sister. She kept an eye on him growing up, but always held him at arm's length. She said it was because she didn't want him to turn out like his father, that it was for his own good but he wishes she just would've told him, been more involved. She let him make his own mistakes, firm iin her belief that if he was determined enough he would dig himself out of them, and while that held true, he's always resented her for it. He put his trust in the wrong people and she simply watched.

Ares:

The Wasteland: How does your OC feel about the Raffen Shiv? Is it too harsh what the Nomad clans do, or is it fair?

Ares' view of the Raffen Shiv is less rooted in personal views and more of a practical nature. While she doesn't think the punishment of exile is too harsh, especially given what led to them getting kicked out, she's less "kill on sight' than other Nomads. She's the only mechanic shop around for miles, and as a result her clients tend to be an ecelctic mix, Wraiths included. And she knows that sometimes it's easier to tolerate their occasional presence in exchange for leaving her alone, and minding their own business. It would be foolish to raid a place packing that much firepower, at least on your own, and her no-nonsense attitude is at the very least, respected. If you bring her a car with blood on the seats though, expect an extra cleaning fee tacked on. She doesn't like the Raffens, but she also doesn't have a Nomad clan backing her, that allows her to pick the bigger fights, and still sleep soundly.

Avi & Ares

Demons of War: Is there a job that's left a permanent mark on your OC?

Mr. and Mrs. Peralez turned to Avi, when they started questioning their home's security, and wanted to investigate the death of the mayor. He'd previously been afiliated with Arasaka, and had experience with corporate politics/complexities, while not having current loyalty to any coorporation, and had slipped out of the limelight following his departure from the company--a perfect fit for digging up information that others wanted to keep secret, and to protect himself or them, if it ever came to that. He'd been communicating with an anonymous source since before his split with the company, feeding them information in exchange for Arasaka's dirt--assistance in locating his files, of which he could find no trace. It's the first time he met the mysterious Mr. Blue Eyes face to face, and shortly before he was able to connect his mysterious source to an individual, and the realization that he'd stepped into a mess even deeper in the attempt to avoid Arasaka's.

For Ares, it was the hit put out on Joanne Koch, Biotechnica's chief. She has her own reasons for mistrusting Corpos, and a group of Nomads reached out to her, seeking vengence. She's not tied to a clan, and doesn't have the same responsibilities to stay put and look after her family. Although hit jobs aren't her usual forte, it was something she never would have been able to refuse, particularly after she was able to locate the files on her mark, and learn of the death of the Red Ocher Nomads. Rather than electing to zero Koch, she knocked her out and delivered her personally to the Nomads, feeling as if they should be the ones to decide what to do with her. It's only intensified the belief that Corps can't be allowed to get too comfortable in the Badlands, and she's been open in discussing this with the Aldecaldos, stating that she'll in no condition be an ally if they side with Biotechnica. This has led to her relationship with Saul being strained at best.

[firstdegreefangirl]

Don't Hang the Mistletoe (you know how kissing goes)

Theme: Day Nine - Mistletoe @12daysofchristmas

Fandom/Character(s): Tim Bradford/Lucy Chen (The Rookie)

Word Count: 1189

Ao3 link here!

Who brings mistletoe to a work event?

And yet, here they are. Tim and Lucy, side by side, underneath a “festive” sprig.

They’d been doing so well, too, Tim laments to himself, as soon as the first colleague – some patrol officer he hardly knows outside of the roll call room – takes notice. All night, he and Lucy had managed to come off as friends, nothing more.

He’d brought her a drink, balanced carefully with his own and one for Angela, and made sure their fingers didn’t brush when he handed it off. They’ve stood next to each other, with a respectable distance between them, and chatted amicably about neutral topics.

Just when he’d thought they might be able to pull it off, spend an entire station Christmas party together without anyone noticing that they’ve been dating almost a month now, they wind up under the damn mistletoe together.

Everyone else has noticed now, and someone started up a chant of “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

He chances a quick look at Lucy, frozen in place with her drink raised just a little too high to be natural. Her eyes are wide, her mouth hanging slightly open.

She’s beautiful. Even like this, half-paralyzed with shock, it strikes him that she’s beautiful.

But he can’t tell her that now, and they can’t stand like this all day. So he nudges her forearm carefully with his elbow. She jumps a little bit, and turns to face him.

“Hey,” Tim whispers, quietly enough that only Lucy will hear, when he gets a better view of the panic on her face. “We don’t have to. We can … settle the score later.” He grins at the last part, trying to break the ice between them, but Lucy’s expression doesn’t change.

The crowd is still chanting, and Lucy seems to notice it a second later. She shakes her head, and the hand not holding her drink comes up to rest on Tim’s shoulder.

Her fingers dig into his skin, through the fabric of his shirt. She rolls up onto her tiptoes, and Tim’s breath catches in his throat.

Just for a second, he lets himself hope. It’s not how they’d meant to tell everyone, and certainly not everyone they’d meant to tell – a handful of people are missing, and there are some officers who don’t need to know everything about their private lives – but he hopes. Lucy is balancing herself against him, close enough that he can feel the heat coming off of her chest, and he hopes.

He hopes she’ll do it. He hopes he’ll let her. He hopes it won’t change anything between them, more than everything between them has already changed. And he hopes it won’t ruin either of their careers.

Then Lucy leans in and …

Brushes her lips across his cheek.

She drops back to her usual height and takes a step away, and Tim tries not to let the disappointment show.

This makes more sense, anyway. It would have been just as telling if they’d refused to play along at all, and kissing her the way he’d wanted to would have been a terrible way to disclose their relationship to the department. Lucy handled an uncomfortable situation perfectly, and he knows it.

Still, he’s a little bit heartbroken at the way he can feel the ghost of her touch on his face, her phantom fingers clinging to his shoulder.

A handful of onlookers boo, and someone – he thinks it sounds like Smitty, but he can’t tell for sure – calls out something about cheating. But for the most part, everyone turns their attention back to whatever conversation they’d been having before the crowd gathered around them.

Only Angela stops to catch Tim’s eye as he lets out a heavy breath. She tips her cup toward him, and her stare is filled with concern and compassion.

He smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. She nods slowly, and for a second, Tim wonders how much she knows. He hasn’t said anything, and he knows Lucy hasn’t either. But he gets the feeling that Angela understands the things he can’t tell her.

He raises his drink back at her and takes another deep breath.

Then he turns back to the party, mingling and making small talk like everything is fine.

“That went on forever,” Lucy complains an hour and a half later, trying to fit her key into the front door of her apartment. “I thought we’d never get to leave.”

She’s not drunk, but Tim knows the door sticks sometimes. He’s half-tempted to reach around her and pull the knob tighter, to see if that helps, but she gets it open before he makes up his mind.

“Thanks for walking me up,” Lucy says, lingering in her doorway, and Tim thinks back to a few months ago, a similar conversation under incredibly different circumstances.

“Anytime,” he replies, and they both know that it’s true.

“Do you … want to come in?” He wonders if she’s doing it intentionally, if those words are seared into his memory the way they are in his.

This time, there’s no hesitation when he follows her.

As soon as the door is closed behind them, Lucy is pushing him up against it. The element of surprise favors her over their difference in size, as she presses her chest against his. He catches her by the waist, but doesn’t dream of pushing her away.

Not here, not like this.

Not when their bodies fit perfectly together, and her mouth slots perfectly against his, and she’s kissing him so hard that he can’t come up with any words other than perfect to describe it.

Hot, maybe. Even for December, she’s hot against him, both hands cupping his face like she’s worried he might pull back.

Promising, how she drags one hand down his torso, through the tiny bits of space between them and toward the waistband of his jeans.

Earth-shattering, the way Lucy came into his life two years ago and somehow became the person he cares about most in the world, the person he’d do anything for and who’d do anything for him.

But he can’t come up with any of that when she finally breaks away from him. They’re both breathing hard, sharing the same air back and forth, clinging to each other for dear life.

For more than life, Tim thinks, before he pushes that thought to the back of his head. It’s only been a few months, they’re not quite ready for ‘til death do us part just yet.

That doesn’t matter tonight, though. He’d walk through fire for Lucy, just to see this sexy, sassy smile on her face.

“Well, what do you say?” She tucks two fingers into his belt loop, and Tim knows he won’t be able to find the words to answer whatever she’s about to ask. “Is the score even enough for you?”

Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. But that doesn’t matter either, because Tim pulls her in for another kiss. She smiles against him and he adds another tally mark to his mental list.

Moments he never wants to forget.

[schrijverr]

Tomorrow Will Be Different 25

Chapter 25 out of 26

Instead of managing to meet up later, Oliver has to keep running with Akio. The only way to keep them safe is to go public with Oliver being alive, leaving him back home in charge of Akio, while Tatsu and Maseo are still in the wind

In this chapter, they face pushy paparazzi outside the courthouse, which sends Oliver into a spiral. As the future for the Yamashiros becomes clearer, his own becomes more terrifying.

On AO3.

Ships: Tatsu x Maseo

Warnings: pushy paparazzi, ptsd flashback + panic attack

~~~

Chapter 25: Panic at the Courthouse

After that first night, it all goes very fast. They release a vague statement to the press about not answering any questions and requesting privacy in these times. It is not necessarily respected, but the security of the mansion is good, so they keep to the house.

Moira sets to work in getting Tatsu and Maseo the right paperwork to be reinstated officially as Akio’s guardians and to get back home.

The two are very grateful to her for that. Oliver decides not to mention that her actions are probably not out of the goodness of her heart, but because she wants them to get away, before they suddenly change their mind and try to make a grab for their money.

It irks Oliver to hell that she still thinks like that after all their talks, but he lets it go. She hasn’t said anything about it and it might be between his own ears. If he’s rebuilding bridges, he should give her the benefit of the doubt.

Besides, the lawyers she hires for them are the best and he can’t argue with providing his friends with the best. This whole process should be as smooth as possible, they’ve been through too much for anything less.

Going to the courthouse to get everything finalized is an interesting experience. They have all been avoiding cameras as much as possible, going incognito whenever they are on the streets. So, the paparazzi is going wild trying to get to them.

Since the process has gone smoothly, the interest in the story hasn’t died down too much between the news breaking and the court date. And the news of said court date has fanned the flames of interest once more.

Oliver sees them before they even pull up to the curb. He turns to Tastu and Maseo and says: “Just keep Akio between you, Dig will cover you best he can. Keep your head down and don’t say anything.”

Both Tatsu and Maseo eye the crowd warily. “I don’t like this,” Tatsu says.

“No one does,” Oliver snorts. “But they’re more interested in me than you. Sure, you two are still an interesting target, but they’ll likely flock to me. Use that to get inside, they won’t follow you there.”

“This is normal for you?” Maseo asks concerned, eyeing the crowd again.

“My birth was in the news, I’ve been in the spotlight for as long as I can remember,” Oliver shrugs, going back to observing the paparazzi getting pushed back by Dig and thus missing the disturbed looks Tatsu and Maseo share.

Diggle manages to get the car door open and ushers them out. Oliver is glad the man returned, this would be hell without him.

Akio is practically sandwiched between everyone. Diggle is in front of him, with Tatsu on his left and Maseo on his right, Oliver taking the rear.

Tatsu and Maseo turn in defensively, covering Akio better and taking Oliver’s advice to keep their heads down. Oliver makes sure to keep his head upright, he won’t be cowed and he has an image to maintain, not to mention a target to paint on his back.

His strategy is successful and a dozen microphones appear under his nose as flashes go off in his eyes, disorientating him, while questions come from all sides.

“Mr. Queen were these experiments just chemical or physical as well. There is still no comment on your alleged deformed torso.”

“Is it true you refused to see an American doctor, because you have secret China government medical implants, Mr. Queen?”

“Are Mr. and Mrs. Yamashiro selling Akio to you?”

“Would you describe the experimentation as torture? Were you tortured, Mr. Queen?”

“Will you be seeking psychological help after the trauma, Mr. Queen? Are you sane enough to be in the public after what you’ve been through?”

Oliver is doing a pretty admirable job of keeping it together, if he does say so himself. He is almost at the door when one last question ruins it. A reporter holds up a photo of a man and asks: “Can you confirm the identity of other victims on the boat? Do you recognize the man in the photo?”

Fyers and Wintergreen appear in front of his eyes, the sounds of the reporters turning into the sound of the base camp as the flashes become flickering sunlight that comes in as the entrance flaps in the wind.

He barely manages to stumble into the courthouse after the others, the door being pushed close behind him, as he takes a few more wobbly steps, trying to get to a bench in the hallway. The urge to curl up into a ball is strong, but that would leave him defenseless so he locks his knees.

A hand appears to support him, but he can only feel Fyers backing him towards that pole where Wintergreen tortured him. So he starts to fight back. However, the sensation of his clothes don’t match Lian Yu and if he concentrates, he can make out that the voices he’s hearing are ones he knows and not voices he should fear.

“Keep breathing, Oliver. Breathe in… breathe out… just follow me, breathe in…,” Diggle’s voice is the first that fully penetrates his senses into making sense.

Shuddering Oliver tries to follow, slowly realizing that Diggle is holding him upright in a restraining hold, though as to not block his airways. Following his instructions is not easy and every time he thinks he has managed, he chokes up again and feels breathless. However, he’s breathing semi-okay after a bit.

“I’m gonna move you to a bench, that okay?” Diggle says when he notices.

Words sounds incredibly difficult right now, but Oliver manages a nod. He braces himself for the movement, repeating in his mind over and over again that he’s getting moved to a bench by a friend, not tied to a pole by an enemy.

He knows it is going to suck and send him right back into the panic attack, but staying like he is now isn’t an option. Everyone is moving around him, being near the door as he is, which doesn’t help him calm down. He needs to be somewhere a bit more quiet if he wants to shake this off.

Indeed, Diggle grabs him and Oliver can only feel a combination of Wintergreen tying him to that pole, Ivo strapping him to a table, and Amanda pushing him onto that chair.

It takes all his concentration not to snap Diggle’s neck, struggling slightly against him as he is dragged to a bench and plopped down. In the back of his mind, he can only imagine the kind of rumors the press will be fed by those who are witnessing this, bitterly he remembers the reporter inquiring him if he was even sane enough to be out and about.

Tatsu appears in front of him, kneeling on the floor so that she can look into his down turned eyes. She says: “I need you to follow Maseo’s breathing and listen to my voice.”

Maseo sits down next to him, enough space between them to not feel like he is crowding him, and starts breathing regularly and loudly.

Much like with Diggle earlier, Oliver tries his hardest to follow, slowly getting more successful as time goes on. Tatsu’s voice helps. Her tone is soothing and he is instead reminded of when they meditated together, a better memory to latch onto until he can drag himself to the present.

When he finally blinks his eyes into the present, Tatsu gives him a kind look. “Welcome back, Oliver.”

He smiles back tiredly.

“Is he okay?” Akio asks worriedly.

Oliver wants to tell him he’s all okay, even if that would be a lie, because he is kind of freaked out himself still and scared, this hasn’t happened to him before. However, he can’t find it within himself to speak, his tongue like lead.

Maseo answers for him: “He will be okay, Akio. He just had a nightmare, while he was awake. Just give him a few moments.”

“Okay,” Akio says, believing his father, but still watching Oliver worriedly, from his place next to Diggle, who has been keeping people away from them.

Oliver gives Maseo a questioning look, because that answer came really easy to him.

“Like your loss of appetite, I know this feeling,” Maseo explains, making Oliver feel less alone.

“Did you have an attack like this before?” Tatsu asks.

He shakes his head no. It came out of nowhere and it scared him. He doesn’t know exactly what happened and he’d like it to never happen again.

Tatsu’s eyes grow sympathetic and understanding. “You’ll feel tired and need to rest. Your body is starting to feel safe again, letting your mind process what happened.”

“It is nothing to be afraid of,” Maseo adds. “Once you know what triggers you, you can avoid it, and start to work through it, so they don’t happen as often.”

Oliver completely disagrees. The whole thing is terrifying, he nearly killed Diggle. If this is what his body does when it starts to feel safe, he’s never going to let it feel safe again. However, he doesn’t let that show, just nods again.

“Mr. and Mrs. Yamashiro? The judge is waiting for you,” Laurel’s voice comes as a shock to his system and his face snaps up, likely unable to hide the horror at her witnessing this.

Both Tatsu and Maseo look reluctant to leave him alone, which can’t happen. He forces himself to speak: “Go. I’ll be okay. I’ll join you when I can.”

“I’ll stay with him,” Dig promises when they look apprehensive.

Oliver would prefer it, if Diggle protected Akio, however, Akio will be with his highly skilled parents and the thought of being alone right now doesn’t sound very appealing. So, he just forces a smile and gestures: “See, I’m in good hands. Go.”

Reluctantly, the Yamashiros follow Laurel, who has offered to show them to the right court room.

Once they’re out of sight, Oliver sags again, forcing himself to take a deep breath and slapping his face a few times to stay awake and alert.

Diggle sits down next to him, thankfully also leaving space like Maseo did. He lets Oliver collect himself a little, before he asks: “Want to talk about it?”

“Not really,” Oliver answers.

Knowing Diggle, he would’ve spoken regardless of the answer. “I used to have flashbacks all the time when I first got home. Lyla made me join a support group, before we divorced. She attended a different one, so we wouldn’t drag it home, regardless of the rules. It helped.”

“I’m not joining a support group,” Oliver scowls. “I can’t even talk about what actually happened to me.”

“And I’m not saying you should, just saying that talking about it helps.”

He’s saved from answering by Laurel, who returns with a glass of water. “I don’t know if this will help, but some water is always good,” she says as she offers it to him.

Oliver takes it gratefully, sipping the water with small sips to avoid triggering a flashback to being waterboarded. “Thank you.”

“Are you okay?” Laurel asks cautiously, sitting down next to him on the other side, a little too close for comfort.

“You don’t have to do this. I wouldn’t want to keep you from your work, I’m sure you’re busy,” he tries to deflect.

Laurel knows what he’s doing, but doesn’t comment on it directly, instead giving him a smile as she says: “I’m actually done here for today, I’m taking my lunch hour, before going back to the office. I figured I can keep you company for a bit.”

“Oh, that’s- that’s good,” Oliver says, shifting away slightly as Dig makes more space on his other side.

“Are you okay?” Laurel asks again, smile now gone and replaced by worried brows. Oliver tries to convince himself it wasn’t better when she fully hated him.

“I’m fine, Laurel.”

“Ollie…”

“Ms. Lance,” Diggle cuts in, saving him from further examination. “Just give him some space. He doesn’t have to talk, if he doesn’t want to.”

Laurel flushes slightly and says: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s okay,” Oliver assures her, not wanting her to feel bad for being concerned or listen to whatever she’ll say next. He can’t handle other people feeling bad about him being… about him going through… well, everything.

She sits in the silence next to him and he feels a little bad about it. He owes her some sort of explanation, if she is sacrificing her lunch hour to sit with him after his break down in a public place.

However, no words come to him. He can’t explain that the question of a reporter send him spiraling, he can only sit there, feeling ashamed, not meeting anyone’s eyes as they pass, yet hyper aware of every movement everywhere.

He is truly relieved when Laurel gets up, saying: “I need to leave to make it back on time. I hope you’re alright.”

“Much better already,” Oliver says with a tight smile.

She walks away and he can feel himself unclench a little. The time just sitting in silence has helped a lot and he can now properly watch the people passing. Most have lost interest in him after he calmed down, which is good. He doesn’t want this to end up anywhere. At that, a thought pops into his mind. “Did anyone film me?” he asks Dig.

“No, made sure they didn’t.”

“Thank god for that,” Oliver breathes out. “Thank you, Dig.”

“Of course,” Diggle replies with that kind stoic expression he wears often.

There is a lot Oliver wants to express in that moment. How he is still kind of terrified of that happening, how grateful he is to Diggle for keeping people away, how he is sorry for nearly killing him, how he never wants it to happen again, how he wants to know how Diggle deals with it. However, he doesn’t know how to verbalize any of it and before he can think of a way, they’re interrupted by the Yamashiros returning from court.

Guilt crashes over him that he didn’t go see their trial, too caught up in his own head. He hopes they’ll understand and this isn’t the place for it.

Akio is running over to him, stopping short in front of him as he excitedly yells: “The judge approved everything. We’re going home soon!”

Despite knowing this moment was coming since he got Tatsu and Maseo out of that cage and officially back, he doesn’t feel prepared for the reality of it actually being here. He has spend the past two weeks helping them prepare for the courts and making the final memories, but it is real now. They’re actually leaving soon

Oliver knows he has their numbers and is always free to call or text and that he knows their address and can always come by. However, not being able to go see them is still weird.

It’s crazy that only eight weeks ago they were saying goodbye on the docks of Hong Kong. Then it seemed much easier to see them leave. Funny how fast things can change.

He has told himself to work on his relationships with everyone from home. Yet those relationship will never be like what he has with the Yamashiro family. They know him in a way no one here knows him.

They know him as he is now, what he has been through, the effects it can have on someone. They do not look at him and try to see who he used to be. He can talk to him and they aren’t horrified, but understand instead. He doesn’t know how he is going to connect like that to those he knew before, even if he has known them longer.

But he doesn’t show all that, instead he smiles back as brightly as he can manage. “Wow, buddy, that’s amazing!”

[thepolyamorouspolymath]

The ghosts of penises past strikes again... twice in one month.

I finally had cut ties with M. Like deleted his contact info from EVERYWHERE so I couldn't dig it back out some time when I was feeling lonely and unattractive.

I didn't block him, because he hadn't been responding the last time I tried talking to him, and because I made a promise once to always be there for him if he needed me. He may have no sense of honor and he may never keep his word, but I'm not that person. If I PROMISE (rather than just saying I will) I fucking stick to it. I have too many broken promises and cracks in my heart from them to do otherwise.

So I'm sitting here one day chilling, working on some research, and I see the whatsapp notification on my bar. I assume it's this company that always sends me promos or a back up running. Nope, it's him.

He beats around the bush for awhile before making it clear he was looking for sex. And I said no, that he should remember my stance on casual meaningless sex. He suggested an ongoing thing getting to know each other. When I asked why he reached out to me when he could find someone easily to cheat on his gf with he gave me some bullshit. Then said how he didn't want to get back together, it'd take a lot of long conversations before we got there and I straight up laughed. For a solid 3 minutes straight. Then went why would I want to repeat the worst mistake I ever made. Not that he meant it -- those conversations would never happen unless he needed me to feel guilty about something and he was never going to want a relationship with me. It was the equivalent of the married man leaving hints he'd leave his wife for you if things worked out. I listed all the shit he pulled and he got mad, how it reminded him of how I'd berate him and never let go of anything (a, he kept doing the sane shit and b, funny how that's the same thing he said about all his exes to me way back when) and he'd just been thinking with his dick again and should find someone easier and thanks for the reminder. So I responded even his dick should have known better than to try to hook up with me after making his disdain for me clear, abd that he absolutely should find someone else bc not only did my mind not want him but I was bone dry at the idea of him ever touching me again.

Then I think he deleted whatsapp despite needing to talk to people in Europe, because his pic and stuff went but it didn't tell me I was blocked which it usually does, I think. Fucking coward.

So we'll see how long this sticks, as it's fine for him to ignore me but he can't stand when I don't want him. Hopefully forever.

Then I get a message yesterday. A guy I went out with 3 times in January or something. Guy wanted me to accept scraps of time when his wife thought he was with friends bc she wanted a don't ask don't tell. Even I had more self respect than that. Oh and he wanted a lifestyle partner, not a life partner. Not bc he loves his wife but bc he likes his life the way it is and if he could squeeze in some kink on his terms only, so much the better. I shot that shit down and called him out for being completely manipulative and selfish, qualities he thought he'd left behind and no, still the same guy he was when some other poor woman had to call him on it and I said so. I'm not shy.

He acknowledged I'd been right, apologized, asked to be friends first, and to unblock him on fet. I said I'd agree to friends, and he proceed to pull all kinds of manipulative crap in the course of one conversation -- still saying he wanted a lifestyle partner to which I asked why I'd want that now when I already turned down that same offer from the same guy months ago. I called him out on his refusal to compromise or adjust anything in his life, because I'm worth more than his leftover crumbs. He said how not many guys would drive out to the city I'm moving to and again I laughed -- does he think that a college town is devoid of men? No, most guys from the burbs probably wouldn't drive out there which is why I'm not dating at the moment and will find one out there if I want one. Fuck, with as young as I look I could probably have my pick of frat guys. I'm like that was manipulative implying I should settle for my last chance, and it wasn't subtle or accurate. Do better if you want to con me.

I'm so not interested in men. They continually disappoint me, with one exception who sadly lives too far away for more than occasional sexting and being an exceptional friend.

The ghost can start passing me right on. I can't think of a man I've dated that I feel the urge to test drive again. Thanks but I finally figured out that chasing my mistakes won't undo them and the time I spent is a sunk cost, and trying to recoup sunk costs has never ended well for anyone.

[im-feelin-sick]

Pokémon AU Devnny Drabble No. 2 As always, much thanks to @that-kangaroo-fish . In fact, I’ll go ahead and say any Pokémon AU stuff can be credited to her as much as me.

Content warning for JtHM typical content.

(2/?)

prev

Johnny grins at her.

He has such a nice smile, Devi thinks. It’s too big for his face, and devastatingly earnest. She desperately wants to tell him how good it looks, but instead, she only offers one in return. Not even a moment later, Devi catches herself slipping in posture towards his direction, and she pretends to cough while straightening herself back out. There’s a moment where neither of them say a thing. Devi needlessly moves around a few books on the shelf, before a topic of conversation occurs to her.

“Oh, did I tell you about my fucking date last week?” Devi asks, hopefully before the silence went weird. “It went terribly.”

“No, you haven’t.” Johnny shakes his head. He jams his fidgety hands into the pocket of his black hoodie, settling in. One of his massive boots digs into the ground as he refuses to make eye-contact with her- Nny’s always been awkward in a charming way. Devi likes shy guys, especially when they’re dressed like they fell into a vat of ravens and black eyeliner. A muddy paw print adorns his black and white Shedinja print t-shirt, which is just the right amount of accidental grunge. He must have some kind of dog Pokémon.

Devi sighs, distracted but still pissed off about the aforementioned date, before she starts her story. “Well, he had a Muk that hung out with us, as though smelling fetid sludge would set a romantic mood. I should have known then. First red flag.”

At this comment, Graifaifai (sitting behind her) makes a very annoyed growl, and Devi sighs again. “I know, I know. You were right.” She tosses her hair and the ends of her a-line bob dance across her cheekbones. Nny chuckles.

“Anyway,” Devi continues, “the asshole kept trying to get me to go back to his place, even though I told him I didn’t want to do that kinda shit on a first date. We went out to dinner, and he wanted to have dessert at his place. Like, grab some ice cream and put on a movie. He promised me it would be just that. But, y’know. Guys. Let their penises take the wheel.”

“I never understand that,” Nny interjects. “I mean, why that would be the first thing someone wants? Or second. Or third. Or fifteenth, really. There’s a million better things to do with someone that don’t force a deranged swap of, ugh, body fluids. I’d rather just. Talk. I guess. With someone I like. And get really deep. When you open up a person, it’s so much more intimate and you get to really see what’s inside.”

Charmed again by his declared priorities, Devi corrects him with a giggle. “Open up to a person, you mean.”

“Oh, that too, I guess.”

Devi grins. “Where was I? Uhhh…. right, ok, so I did end up agreeing to go to his apartment to watch one of my favorite movies, after making it very clear that I wasn’t going to sleep with him. Don’t ask me why I went. Maybe I thought that for once, some dumbass would respect my boundaries.”

“How dangerously optimistic of you.”

“Oh yeah, of course the prick doesn’t- he keeps trying to slap his greasy lips on me, and stick his clammy asscrack hands damn near everywhere. And he kept trying to get me to drink. And that Muk! The smell! Sweet hell! I finally called a cab and left before we were even fifteen minutes into the movie. He offered to drive me home but I wasn’t about to let him find out where I live. I don’t need a stalker on top of everything else.”

Utter disgust spreads on Johnny’s face like spoiled milk spilled across a floor. “Ew! Men are disgusting, greedy, filthy little creatures full of shit and stupid and processed foods. I mean, most women are too, to be honest. But men especially so. Everyone’s like a microwave burrito. You think they’re gonna be warm and wonderful, but they all end up soggy and still frozen in the middle! Nothing worse in the world than a partially cooked microwave burrito or a person!”

“Oh Arceus, right? Don’t know why I keep trying when I hate pretty much everyone, and everyone’s just blinded by boobs or bullshit. Dating is like playing Russian roulette with a completely loaded gun.”

Grafaifai climbs onto Devi’s arm and chatters. Nny gives Grafaifai a crippling glare, and grits his teeth before hissing back.” While I am, on unfortunate technicality, a specimen of the male gender, don’t you fucking dare compare me to them! My dick is the last body part I’d ever think with, and I strive to have manners despite everyone else always forgetting them. I’m no saint, but I’m nothing like the masses of creeps out there. And if ever become anything like them… well, take me out back and blow my genitals and brains out!”

Devi frowns. Did he misunderstand her? “Huh?”

Johnny looks equally confused for a moment, and just blinks, before replying, “Wait! Not you. Never you. I haven’t told you that I can understand Pokémons’ language before, have I? Well, I can- I always know what they’re all saying about me, and your Grafaifai told me that I’m just as bad, if not worse, than any other man, and that I probably want something horrible too. Which is a very, very cruel thing to say to a person, as well as including some disgusting assumptions.” Nny’s hands are balled up into quaking fists. There’s a sudden darkness to him that makes Devi’s nerves itch, but she also feels guilty. Grafaifai can be mean, but she’s never done much to teach it otherwise. Especially not by example.

She quickly soothes him over with, “Oh, it just thinks that kind of thing about every guy I….” Devi pauses, teetering on the edge of admitting something she’s working up the guts to say. She falls onto the side of caution. Mostly. “Uh, meet. It’s protective and a bit judgey, that’s all. I think you’re very polite and nice, for the record. I like talking to you.”

Holy fucking shit, is he nice! Devi loves the delicate, too-polite sound of his voice. Johnny often rambles, and Devi’s always happy to listen, even when the shit he says gets bizarre and conspiratorial. It’s just one of many charming quirks- though she’s pretty sure Johnny would practically murder her if she called him quirky.

Despite her holding back, Devi’s answer/compliments must be enough, because Johnny’s mood goes bright as fast as it went dim. She even thinks he blushes, and his tongue sticks out between his lips as though he’s trying to think of what to say next. It must be a struggle. Devi continues speaking for his sake.

“So you can talk to Pokémon, right? That’s cool. I’ve heard of people who can do that, but I’ve never met one. I usually get what Graifaifai’s trying to communicate, but I can’t understand the language at all.”

“I can’t remember when I learned how. Or if I learned how,” Johnny admits, happy to have changed the direction of the conversation. “I’ve been able to understand them as far back as I can remember. Which isn’t much even on a good day.”

Devi laughs at his joke. “I totally get you. I can’t even remember what I did this morning.”

“Me too. But the whole talking Pokémon thing. I really don’t recommend it. Especially when you live in a gym full of asshole ghosts. You can’t even make a ghost die a second time. I’ve tried it!”

“Yeah, talking to most people feels like sandpapering my face. I can see why Pokémon could be the same way. I hope Sableye’s a little nicer to talk to- where is the little guy, by the way?”

Sableye’s usually out and about, chirping at Grafaifai or trying to read comic books. Devi hasn’t seen him yet. He might actually be inside of his Pokéball, for once.

“Oh! He’s napping.” Nny turns around. Inside of his hood lies Sableye, curled up and asleep. It groggily peers at her, before covering its face up with its arms and burrowing itself deeper into Johnny’s hood. Even Devi’s not totally immune to cute things, and she lets out a little, “Awww.”

After a moment, Nny turns right back around. “But I wanted to say, that guy you went out with? I keep thinking. What’d he look like? ‘Cause I’d gut him like a Magicarp if I found him. I’d take him home and serve him a dessert made only of glass shards and vinegar. He deserves it. It would be a worth a new ghost haunting the gym.”

Johnny’s got a wicked, fucked up sense of humor that’s right up Devi’s alley. They laugh together this time, and somewhere in that moment, Devi finds the courage to actually flirt with Nny.

“Your gym actually sounds kinda cool. Like a haunted house. I’d love to see it. I might even let you take me there after a first date.”

“Oh?” Johnny’s usually pretty easy to read, but emotions fly across his face so quickly that Devi can’t tell what he’s thinking. For a terrifying moment, she wonders if she crossed a boundary. Did she misread him? But finally a giant grin stretches from hollow cheek to hollow cheek, and he nods rapidly.

“I’d like that too.”

He has such a nice smile, Devi thinks.

[hannahsmusings]

Renee

*I hated how my heart fluttered at the sight of Anthony entering the dining room, rolling my eyes a bit as all my girlfriends were clearly ogling him, them all being quiet for once in their lives and actually listening to him, that not being a respect they showed the old female chefs* *I lock eyes with Anthony as he puts my food down in front of me, a small smirk splayed on my lips as he says vegan butter, the smell of the food in front of me was so inviting and glorious but I was unable to even focus on it, too busy taking in Anthony, him having this glow from within, it being similar to how I used to look when I first started my businesses, he was passionate and he truly loved what he did and that made him even more attractive annoyingly* *I finally rip my eyes away and look down at my food, my mouth filling with saliva at the sight and the smell, nodding* Thank you, Anthony. *I steal a glance up at him as I refer to him by his proper name even though he asked to be called Ant, wanting him to know I was holding true on not referring to him as a bug* *it felt like everyone was watching me, my team knowing this was another make or break moment, if I didn’t like it, Anthony could be out on his ass before dessert was even serviced* *I cut into the lamb which was like butter, it being cooked to perfection, popping a piece in my mouth and chewing it slowly, trying my hardest not to moan out loud, it being one of the best things I’ve ever tasted* *I stay silent for a few seconds, just savoring it but giving nothing away on my face, looking up at him again and giving him another nod* It’s good. *at my compliment, it was as if everyone in the room let out a sigh of relief as they start digging in, my eyes still focused on Anthony’s* Thanks, again. *I look back down at my food, continuing to eat slowly, being so rigid and stiff-backed with everything I did*

*Maddy couldn’t keep her eyes off of Anthony, desperate to get him into bed with her, biting her lip as he starts to make his exit, piping up* Hey, Ant! How about you come eat with us? There’s an empty chair right here.. *she points to the empty chair besides her, giving him a flirty smile, twirling some hair around her finger, knowing she was pretty and she felt they had chemistry earlier and she wanted to play into it*

*I glance up at Maddy from my seat, feeling a wave of jealousy wash over me but I shove it down, knowing that was highly inappropriate, considering he was my staff and I had a boyfriend, but I couldn’t help but want to grab him and pull him onto my lap, not wanting anyone else to have him, looking back down at my food again, refusing to let my jealousy or anything show, Maddy was an adult and so was Anthony and if they wanted to sleep together, they can, I had no say in that*

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*eyes heat a little as you call me Anthony, normally not liking it but there was something so enticing about the way your tongue rolled around the sounds, feeling my stomach knot but swallowing that feeling down pretty quickly as I speak* You’re welcome. *steps back as I serve everyone else, wanting to see your reaction to the food* *  knew you wouldn’t give me much but I wanted to see the slightest moment of enjoyment, lingering and holding my breath as I knew the job was on the line, if I couldn’t impress you with creative control on my first day then I had no chance* *smiles as I see the lamb had come out perfectly, watching as you chew it and you giving nothing away, running a hand through my hair as a nervous tick as I glance around your face before you give me a nod, breaking out into a bright grin and my cocky confidence slipping a little as I smile at you* Yeah? I’m glad you enjoy. *face softens as my eyes remain locked on yours, a beat passing before you looked away and I felt like I could breathe again, you having such an intensity that I was overwhelmed by, never having such a strong pull to someone before* *about to leave before Maddy was speaking, raising a brow at her obvious flirting and although she was pretty I was not interested, offering her a polite smile before I shake my head* No that’s okay. The food is for you guys. I better get back to cleaning up anyway. *smiles at her, hoping that was me letting her down a little easier, wanting to remain professional and I wasn’t interested enough anyway* You ladies enjoy. *smiles at everyone before I look at you once more, shooting you a cheeky wink before I head back to the kitchen, feeling so accomplished*