#edge of everywhere: across the stars

[djarrex]

Hey M, bff I don’t mean to sound like I’m rushing (genuinely, take your time!) but I’m just wondering if you’re still planning on updating Across the Stars/Edge of Everywhere? I’ve been reading since the beginning, and it’s still my favourite Rex fic; I always come back to it. Love you lots!

hey there- so sorry for responding so late!

I'm very flattered you're a fan of the series!!! 🥹 I honestly don't know when I'll come back to it. I definitely want to eventually wrap up ATS because I know I can't just leave Rex in pain like that lmao. I got stuck for a while but every now and then I go back and read what I've posted and make little edits to the wips hanging out in my docs.

A couple years ago I did have ideas for what the future of EOE would look like but I'm not sure how to come back to it. If anything, I'd like to do more side stories with the characters. Drabbles and the like. One day. 😩🫣

[xinganhao]

👓 svt with a 'nerd' partner.

anon → "can you do one where their partner is a big nerd?"

⌗ ┆debated for the longest time about the differences between nerd/geek/dork, so this is a bit of everything ( `ω´ )۶! (p.s.: love how the hc's turned out for this one >_<)

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: established relationship, pet names, fluff, cussing, headcanons under the cut.

👓 headcanons .ᐟ

you're rambling again. seungcheol watches, entranced, at the way your eyes light up as you talk about your tabletop games. the way your hands move as you explain things. when you notice him staring, you trail off. he immediately snaps out of his quiet awe to reach for your hand across the dining table. "why'd you stop?" he asks in a soft whine, jutting his lower lip out in a mock pout. "you were getting to the good part about the cleric and the rogue. don't leave me hanging, love." (or: seungcheol always pays attention.)

there's a look of mild exasperation on jeonghan's face as he watches you scroll excitedly through his latest fansign photos. you point out all the characters that are familiar to you, and you get just a little too excited when he's borderline cosplaying. he pretends to be annoyed about it, even though the truth is that he'd play dress up all day long to see you smile like this. "really," he huffs all the same, prying his phone out of your hands. "if i knew this was all it would take for you to fall in love with me…" (or: jeonghan indulges you.)

every time he travels, joshua visits a bookshop. not those chain stores, either. he goes for the obscure ones that sells secondhand, well-loved novels. the types that are a little beaten up and worn around the edges. he'll spend hours looking through the shelves for covers that he thinks are pretty, or descriptions that match the genres you always rave about. it's his little joy, to come home after all these international stops with his arms full of books. "these reminded me of you," he'll say as he holds them out to you. (or: joshua remembers you everywhere he goes.)

a bead of sweat trickles down junhui's temple as he battles with yet another stubborn screw. you've long since given up on trying to help him; he wasn't about to let you lift a finger in this endeavor. he grumbles little complaints as he assembles the overpriced IKEA shelf, but all of it is worth it when you start to stack your things on to it with that sweet smile of yours. he knows he ought to stop putting himself in to these situations. he also knows he'll assemble a hundred pieces of furniture if it meant that you could have what you want. (or: junhui enables you.)

soonyoung really couldn't give a damn about the planetarium. he'd much rather have date night at something more exciting. an amusement park. a concept restaurant. but there's just something so special about getting to walk alongside you at a leisurely pace, to have you whisper to him little fun facts about the projected stars and the styrofoam planets. he knows they're only versions of the real thing. it's just… the way you explain them make it seem like they're just right there. he knows he can't really reach for the stars, so he settles for the next best thing. he goes to hold your hand. (or: you remind soonyoung to take it easy.)

mid-game conversations with wonwoo are punctuated mostly with quick jabs, typed out in between lulls. it's a last resort type of thing. most of the time, the two of you are playing with audio. or, better yet, in the same room as each other. there's something liberating in how he doesn't have to reel anything in when it's you, because you know how these matches go. you speak his language, essentially. and whenever he says "one more game?", he knows you're already not too far behind in rejoining the lobby. (or: wonwoo lives to be your player two.)

sometimes, you're so quiet that jihoon forgets you're there. he'll only remember when he tears his gaze away from his computer screen and his eyes land on the studio couch, where you're sprawled out doing whatever your hobby of the month is. it always makes him melt a bit. the way the two of you are just content to co-exist, happy to be in each other's orbit. when he turns back to produce, he goes at it with a renewed purpose. he's got such good inspiration, after all. (or: loving you never feels like work to jihoon.)

mingyu was never the sulky type— until he met you, that is. it's a bit embarrassing, how much of a fool you have him acting like. because what do you mean kim mingyu is jealous of 2d characters? when you return after abandoning him for the latest chapter or the newest episode, he'll consistently act all off-put even though he's sooner to crack than you are. "your anime boys don't love you like i do," he insists, trying his best not to laugh at how silly he sounds to himself. "i'm the real thing, babe." (or: mingyu is a bit of a glutton for your attention.)

it's difficult to be anything but in love with seokmin, especially when he's so sincere in everything that he does. even after he accidentally knocked over the millenium falcon lego set it took you months to build, he's so endearing in his attempts to make amends. he'll spend hours poring over the instructions booklet, and he'll sort through the seven thousand pieces until his eyes are bleary. even then, he shakes his head when you say he should go to sleep. "i like spending time with you like this," he tells you, and you know he means it. (or: seokmin wants to give you the world.)

any other person might be annoyed as the hours tick by with no response. but minghao is not anything if not patient, and he's gotten quite used to losing you to the media that consumes you. if he's being honest, a part of him is probably in love with you because of that. it doesn't matter to him if you respond minutes or days late. all he cares about is that you always come back to him; that's more than enough. (or: minghao would wait lightyears for you.)

seungkwan sometimes feels like a big chunk of his early years were given up to get to where he is now, and so he didn't really have the time to like the things that other people his age normally might. when you came around with all the things that make you happy, though, he can't help but want the same thing for himself. so maybe he is a little betrayed that you watched the newest one piece episode without him, or that you beat all the gyms in pokémon scarlet & violet while he wasn't looking. can you blame him? (or: you are the youth that seungkwan missed out on.)

prior to meeting you, vernon could count on his two hands the instances wherein he's been extremely passionate about something. nowadays, he's always getting in to one petty debate or another about the best frank ocean album or the most insufferable f.r.i.e.n.d.s character. "you bring out the worst in me," he'll joke to you one evening. both of you know that it's the complete opposite. neither of you have to say it out loud, though. all you have to do is start bickering, again, about something that would have everyone else merely scratching their heads. (or: you keep vernon on his toes.)

chan isn't stupid. he's far from it, even. you're just— so smart. unbelievably so. he's not playing dumb or goading you when he's bombarding you with questions. he's genuinely astonished by the extent of your knowledge, the easiness of which you retain all these things. it's one thing to be proud of someone, and it's another to admire them. to look up to them. he feels all that for you and so much more. (or: of all the facts in the world, the one that chan is most certain about is this— he really, really does love you.)

[grandlinedreams]

“We should get married.” 

The question in and of itself is a strange one, made more so for the fact that it’s coming from Zoro of all people – and the fact that he’s asking you in the middle of a fight. Your back is pressed against his, the heat of his skin seeping into your clothes – and you wonder if he’s gotten hit in the head too many times. Or thrown through too many things – too much of something. 

“Are you seriously saying that right now?” Your tone is incredulous as you swing your weapon, scowling as you watch another enemy drop with a cry and a splatter of blood. “We’re a little busy right now, aren’t we?”

Zoro grins, expression manic with the deepened shadows of his face from his bandana, adjusting to place the hilt of Wadou Ichimonji in his mouth. “Is that a yes?”

You have the brief moment of considering knocking Zoro out for your opponent – clearly his daily naps out in the sun have baked his brain more than you previously thought. “No!”

–

The question doesn’t turn out to be borne from a brain-based injury flaring up, because Zoro doesn’t let the subject go. He bides his time, waiting about two weeks from when he first asked before he tries again.

This time, the stars are a witness to his buffoonery – now fueled by the bottles of sake he seems to have squirreled away everywhere on the Thousand Sunny. You watch as he tips the bottle to his lips, the brief shimmer of liquid that beads at his lips before it disappears as he swallows. 

“We should get married,” he says, and this time, you scoff. It isn’t one of disdain, rather of amusement as you wait for the alcohol induced flush to rise to his cheeks. “‘m serious, you know.”

“No,” you counter softly as you scoot closer to him, reaching up to wipe a drop of sake from the corner of his lips and bring it to your own for a taste. As ever, his own choices in alcohol seem to be tailored for him and him alone – sake still isn’t your thing. “You’re drunk.”

Zoro hums, eye flicking from the night sky above to you. “Is that a yes?”

You press your lips to his warm cheek. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”

–

The third time that he asks, he’s waited so long that you’ve almost forgotten that he ever asked in the first place. After all, Roronoa Zoro has never seemed like someone interested in the intimate entanglement of marriage – you have absolutely no clue what has possessed him to suddenly ask you with this kind of tenacity. 

“We should get married,” he says, and you resist the urge to sigh as you stare at him, his head pillowed against your thigh. Below the shade of Nami’s tangerine trees, you can hear Luffy’s bright laughter intermingled with Usopp and Franky’s. 

This time you aren’t in the middle of a fight, nor is he drunk. This time, you take a moment to study his face, the dapple of sunlight through waxy green leaves, the scent of citrus in the air. You love him, you’re sure of that – as sure as you’ve been of anything in your life. 

“We’re pirates,” you answer, tapping your fingers against his cheek in an echoed rhythm of one of Brooke’s songs from the night before. “Pirates don’t get married.”

“Sure they do.” He’s watching you now, with the kind of intensity he usually only reserves for battle, and you look away. “Captains can officiate marriages. I asked Robin about it.”

You blink and let your attention shift to Luffy for a minute – you love your captain, you do. But the idea of him being serious about much of anything beyond what matters to him (food, his crew’s safety, finding the One Piece – in that order) makes you giggle. You can’t imagine him officiating something like a marriage. 

“What if I want a ceremony?” Your fingers find his cropped green hair, stroking gently across his scalp. “Those are expensive.”

He shrugs. “We’d find a way. I’m sure Nami would help.”

Your lips curve in an amused smile for a moment before it dims at the edges. “It’d be dangerous,” you point out, and he answers with a short bark of laughter.

“Not any more than shit we’ve already faced.”

“Rings?”

“We don’t need that fancy stuff.” 

Your smile fades completely, hand stilling in his hair. “Why do you think we should get married?”

There must be an edge to your tone now, because Zoro refocuses on you, all signs of mirth gone. “Because we love each other, right? Sounds like the next logical step.” 

Your gaze hardens. “So you’re asking because you think we should? Or because you want to marry me?” He sits up, and you get to your feet. 

“Is that a no?” he asks, and you pause.

“Ask me again when you figure things out, Zoro.” 

–

“Marry me.” 

This time, his voice is quiet. Soft and vulnerable – for the late hour or the intimacy of his bare skin against yours, you aren’t sure. His hand drifts up and down your back, counting the bumps of your spine over and over. 

You shift against him, face nestled to rest against his chest. “Zoro–” 

“I’ve thought about it,” he cuts you off. “So just be quiet and listen, okay?” You don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue on his own. “I don’t want to marry you just because I think that I should, I want us to get married because you...you mean a lot to me. You’re important to me, and I –” He pauses, struggling. This kind of thing is not Zoro’s forte, you both know that – but after a moment, he resumes. “I don’t see myself being like this with anyone but you. I don’t want to be like this with anyone but you. Just want you.” A moment of silence, hearts beating in tandem. 

You move, adjusting enough that you can look at him properly, the gleam of moonlight against his face. And you kiss him. Slow and sweet, eyes sliding shut as you linger for as long as you can before you pull away. 

“Marry me,” he repeats. 

This time, you don’t squawk at him like he’s crazy. You don’t accuse him of being drunk, don’t deflect him for fear that he’s doing it because he thinks he should, not that he wants to. This time, you smile.

“Yes,” you answer. “I’ll marry you.”

[alexanderwales]

Everyone is born into a Genre, except for those poor souls who are destined to be side characters and bystanders, or occasionally taken hostage.

You were born to parents of different Genres, which was unthinkable a generation ago but now only raises a few judgmental eyebrows. Your father was a spy and your mother was a ninja, which is one of the more acceptable Genre pairings. There's crossover there, people understood it.

But when you were four, you first put on a cowboy hat, and it just felt right. Your parents were appalled. They didn't even know where the cowboy hat had come from.

You'd think, given the struggles they had in their own marriage and the prejudice they faced from the rest of the world, that they would be more understanding, but your father yanked the lasso you made from bedsheets away from you when you were eight years old, and your mother made you do throwing star drills in the family dojo for hours. You were horrible at it, and she blamed your father. Granted, you weren't any better at dodging laser tripwires.

Eventually you settled into dressing "normal". Dad and mom could pretend that it was a disguise, and it sort of was. Dad didn't wear his tuxedo everywhere, and mom only wore her shinobi shozoku when things were getting serious.

But then when you went to college you saw her, a coed walking across the quad in boots with spurs on them. Her blonde hair was in braids that stuck out from beneath her ten gallon hat. She was wearing chaps, and you followed after her like a puppy dog, trying not to be obvious about it but in retrospect being very obvious about it.

It was a rocky start. You made an awkward introduction, then she thought you were making fun of her when you started asking all kinds of questions. Western wasn't a popular Genre. It's time had come and gone. And even when she realized that you were serious, she was skittish, worried that you were interested for the wrong reasons, a Genre seeker.

Eventually she understood where you were coming from, that you were Western too, even if you didn't look like it, even if you didn't speak the language or have the skills.

One night, a week after you'd met, you asked her some innocuous question and she gave you a playful shove and called you a greenhorn. You felt your heart soar and a frission go across your skin. "Aw shucks," she said as you wiped away a happy tear, "Weren't nothin' but the truth."

From then on it was a blur of rodeos and saloons. You bought new clothes from the one general store they had in the city. You learned how to hogtie and cattle call. You ate beans around a campfire and then went to class the next day smelling like wood smoke and yearning for the wide open plains.

Going home felt itchy. It was too difficult to ignore how the clothes didn't feel quite right, and you wore flannel and jeans, on the edge of acceptability, flirting with the line. But you carried yourself differently too, and that was harder to disguise, especially since it was hard to remember the mask you'd been wearing.

One of these days you'll tell yours parents who you are, but there's a nagging feeling that they should have known all along, that they deprived you of a childhood that could have been happier if they hadn't tried to mold you into a version of them.

But until then, you'll guide your horse through town, moseying along, eating your vittles, and maybe with a cowgirl by your side.

[lelengerine]

pairing. nct dream (ot7) x reader

synopsis. waking up with the dreamies!

genre. established relationship, just a lot of cutesy fluff, mentions of food in jaemin’s, lmk if there's anything i missed <3

wc. around 150-200 words per member

notes. this is my first time writing these shorter drabbles so i hope you like them hehe i’d love to know if you guys wanna see more of this >< likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

→ mark

mark stirs awake, the morning light creeping through the curtains, casting soft shadows across your sleeping form. he feels a tug on the blanket and realizes you’ve taken most of it, leaving him with just a sliver of the warm fabric. a quiet laugh escapes him, though he quickly stifles it. the room feels too still, too peaceful to disrupt. his fingers move gently, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face. you grumble a little, but don’t wake. “always stealing the blanket,” he whispers, voice amused. you murmur something incoherent, your sleepiness tugging a smile from him. he pulls the blanket back, careful not to disturb you, before pressing his forehead to yours. “i’ll let you get away with it this time,” he softly tuts, a quiet promise in his words. you nuzzle closer in contentment, eyes still closed, and whisper back, “just stay like this.” and so he does, letting the silence fill the space between you, content to lose himself in the warmth of your closeness.

→ renjun

the morning is still, the kind of quiet that feels sacred. renjun opens his eyes, immediately finding you beside him, your breath steady and soft. he’s always admired the way you look when you sleep. there’s a serenity in it, as if the whole world has quieted just for you. without thinking, he reaches for his sketchbook, sitting on the edge of the bed, pencil poised—a habit of his that developed ever since the two of you moved in together. each line he draws is delicate, a reflection of how he sees you: peaceful, beautiful, ethereal. you stir slightly, eyes fluttering open, catching him in the act. “drawing me again?” you ask, voice thick with sleep, a gentle tease in your tone. he flushes after being caught, the pencil in his hand freezing mid-stroke. “i couldn’t help it,” he admits quietly. you smile, shifting closer, peeking over his shoulder. “let me see.” he turns the sketch toward you hesitantly, and when you look up at him, there’s nothing but warmth in your eyes. “i love it.”

→ jeno

the first thing jeno feels is the weight of you against him, your head nestled into his chest, breath steady and slow. he smiles, still half-asleep, as his fingers begin tracing slow, lazy patterns along your back. he’s not sure if he’s drawing hearts or stars, only that he wants to keep you close. you shift slightly, waking up, and your eyes meet his, still hazy with sleep. “morning,” you mumble, voice soft like it belongs to this quiet hour before the world stirs. “morning,” he greets back, words rumbling from his chest. you smile, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw, the touch light, like a secret shared between you. “you’re always awake before i am,” you note with a playful sigh. he grins, his arms tightening around you. “just can’t help it,” he admits softly. “waking up with you feels too good to miss.”

→ haechan

you’re draped across the bed, limbs everywhere, your hair a wild mess against the pillow. haechan wakes to the sight of you, and a grin immediately spreads across his face. mischief bubbles in his chest, and before you know it, his fingers find your sides, tickling you awake. “why do you always take up the whole bed?” he teases, laughter in his voice. you groan, eyes still closed as you bat at his hands, but a laugh slips out despite it all. “haechan, stop,” you whine, still half-asleep, voice muffled against the pillow. the sound of his laughter follows not long after, pulling you into his arms with ease. “i’m awake now, so you have to be too,” he declares with certainty, wrapping himself around your torso as if daring you to escape. you sigh, melting into him despite the protests leaving your mouth. “you’re impossible,” you mutter, but there’s a smile in your voice, one that he catches immediately. “yeah, but you love it,” he replies smugly, his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. and in that moment, wrapped up in the mess of limbs and laughter, you know he’s right.

→ jaemin

the smell of something sweet pulls you from the comfort of your slumber, and you realize the space beside you is empty, but warm. you blink against the soft morning light, listening to the faint clatter of dishes barely seeping past the door. quietly, you slip out of bed, padding towards the kitchen of your apartment. jaemin stands there, humming softly as he flips pancakes with a focus that makes you smile. “you’re cooking?” you ask in the midst of rubbing your eyes awake, still groggy, but unable to suppress the fondness in your voice. he turns at the sound of you, a smile spreading across his face as he sets the pan down. “surprise!” he says, moving toward you, his arms immediately wrapping around your waist. you lean into his embrace, the warmth of him grounding you. “you didn’t have to,” you murmur, though you’re already imagining the taste of the breakfast he’s prepared. he pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes. “i wanted to,” he says softly, his fingers brushing your hair back. “i love mornings like this—with you.”

→ chenle

you wake up earlier than usual, passing the time as you scroll through funny videos on your phone, trying not to wake your boyfriend up, but it’s too late—he’s already blinking awake beside you, squinting through the morning light. “what’s so funny this early?” chenle asks, his voice still thick with sleep, but there’s a curious smile playing on his lips. you turn the phone toward him, showing him the random cat video that has you in stitches. he watches, his sleepy expression giving way to a grin, and soon enough, he’s laughing too. “you really start your day with memes?” he teases, shaking his head in disbelief. you nudge his side playfully. “it’s the best way to wake up!” your defense is only met with a sharp laugh from your boyfriend who pulls you closer, arms wrapping around you as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. “you’re ridiculous,” a murmur comes out of him, his voice soft yet a hint of laughter trails behind. “but if it makes you happy, i guess it’s the best way to wake up for me too.”

→ jisung

you wake to the soft sound of steady breathing, and as your eyes flutter open, you realize jisung is already awake, his gaze fixed on you. his arm is loosely draped over your waist, fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt absentmindedly. “morning,” you whisper, still half-asleep, but there’s a smile tugging at your lips. jisung’s cheeks flush slightly, a shy smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “morning,” he replies, his voice quiet, unsure. you briefly stretch and shift around the pillows and comforters, turning to face him fully, and you notice the way his gaze softens as he looks at you. “you could’ve woken me,” you murmur, your hand coming up to trace the curve of his jaw. jisung shakes his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. “i didn’t want to,” he admits. “you looked too peaceful. i… i like waking up like this.” his voice is barely above a whisper now, as if he’s confessing something he’s only just realized. you smile, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, “i like it too.”

[dovveri]

twisted torturous love

synopsis: nayeon and your relationship has been on the rocks for some time now. when something finally breaks you apart, you find yourself lured back into her cycle of temptation. you could never get enough of her.

warnings: dom!nayeon who’s mean, manipulative, degrading, toxic! cheating, swearing, semi-public sex, fingering, cunnilingus, mirror sex, mommy kink, reader is reduced to nayeon’s dumb little baby aaaand edged once

w/c: 6.0k

a/n: requested! was in shock when i first got this like girl i could never write this and then i had an angsty weekend and i was like yk what! maybe i can! and i did! enjoy the filth if this is what ur into

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

"where are you going?"

"out."

"where?"

"out."

you sigh in frustration, moving to stand in front of your door, blocking her exit and asking her again, "where are you going nayeon?"

she tuts, shoving her arms inside her leather jacket, picking out a cigarette, "move y/n."

"not until you tell me where you're going."

"why does it matter to you?"

"i'm your girlfriend. i want to know what you're getting up to without me."

"god y/n you're so fucking clingy. you don't have to know what i'm doing all the time. i have a life that exists outside of you too y'know?" she doesn't bother looking at you, trying to push past you to get out, but you resist.

"you used to like that i was clingy."

that makes her pause, finally looking at you. her eyes hurt you. she used to look at you with so much love, like you put the stars in the sky, rode the sun across the horizon each morning, now they're hollow and empty.

she turns away, forcing past you, "go to bed y/n."

you don't stop her this time when she slips her shoes on and slams the door closed behind her. you sigh, running a hand through your hair. things between the two of you haven't been good for a long time now. you don't know when it started, maybe it was when she started getting busier, preparing for her solo comeback, having to travel a lot more for her job leaving her with a lot less time to spend with you. or maybe it was when you started paying less attention to her when she was available to you, you wouldn't notice the way she smelt slightly different, didn't even realise she started smoking again despite caring so much about keeping her voice in top condition when she was younger. the slow deterioration of your relationship was certainly noticeable overtime, nayeon's members and your friends asking if the two of you were still together. you moved out and slept in your own bed a lot more than you slept in hers now, of course people were confused when the two of you were out with mutual friends but barely talked to each other, and then went home seperately.

you knew your relationship was hanging on by a thread, but a part of you still held hope that you could get back to what you once were. and nayeon must have felt something similar if she hasn't ended things with you yet. still, it wouldn't take much for that hope to break into a million little pieces.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

the next morning you decide to try and make amends again. you were always the one to apologise first whenever you fought.

you punch in nayeon's apartment code, entering quietly and making sure the door doesn't make a sound when closing. but when you turn, you're faced with nayeon's apartment in a state you can only describe as filthy.

there are bottles lying everywhere, the smell of cigarettes making it hard for you to breathe. you immediately go to her kitchen window, opening it to let some fresh air in, her sink full of dirty dishes and takeaway boxes yet to be disposed of.

you habitually start cleaning. throwing out her trash and wiping down her countertop, not all that surprised that she hasn't woken up with the noise you're making. she was probably completely passed out judging by the state of alcohol bottles strewn across the apartment.

but then when you get to her living room and start picking up dirty laundry, you notice a skirt that was either new or definitely not nayeon's.

and then across the room there's a top that you've also never seen in nayeon's closet. you follow the trail to nayeon's bedroom door, shut tight, but you don't hesitate to open it gingerly, she was your girlfriend, you've seen her in all states of undress.

as you squint into the darkness of her room, you take a step forward, stepping on a bra that was not in nayeon's size and definitely not nayeon's.

your heart drops. you knew your relationship was on the rocks but you had never thought nayeon would be one to cheat. you always had complete and utter trust in her, even when she was overseas, she would always call or facetime you, making sure you didn't feel lonely without her despite her busy schedule and late nights.

just to confirm, because you still can't quite believe this is happening, you step closer towards the bed, eyes adjusting to the darkness better.

you peel back the blanket, and sure enough, the face you're looking at does not belong to the person you fell in love with. you're frozen for a second, staring down at the unfamiliar features, sharp lines, soft breaths.

and then all of a sudden the reality of it all hits you. you're stomping towards nayeon's blackout curtains, ripping them open and letting the midday rays flash into the room.

you turn on your heel, crossing your arms and wait for nayeon to realise you were there. the two people on the bed groan, trying to find where the source of sudden light was coming from. the girl you don't know sees you first while nayeon is still rolling around trying to crawl back under the sheets. she yelps at the unknown presence, pulling the sheets up to cover herself while nayeon groans, trying to pull the sheets back to cover her eyes.

now that there's more light, you can see the array of marks left across the girl's neck and collarbones. there's a pang of jealousy, remembering how nayeon used to mark you up like that, when you were still intimate that was.

"w-who are you?" the girl speaks up.

you scoff, "i should be asking you that."

you can see when nayeon's eyes open at the recognition of your voice, quickly scrambling up and reaching for her glasses on the nightstand, not bothering with modesty unlike her bedmate.

"y/n."

"so this is why you wouldn't tell me where you were going last night. you were going to fuck some other girl? how long has this been going on?"

nayeon stands, trying to calm you. you keep your eyes strictly on her face, not letting anything distract you from what she had done. "y/n wait i can explain. this was- i was drunk-"

"when are you not?"

she frowns, "that's not fair."

"isn't it? you were already tipsy when you came over to mine last night. and once that buzz wore off you just had to go out again and get drunk didn't you?"

"that's not- no-"

you tap your foot impatiently, "so who is she?"

nayeon looks back to the woman that's still in her bed, giving her a death glare that obviously meant get the fuck out of my house, the woman thankfully getting the message and scrambling upwards, pulling on her panties and then holding her chest while looking around for her bra.

you clear your throat, holding it up.

she blushes bright red, stepping forward and taking it from you, muttering a small thanks before dashing outside. you wait to hear the front door close before looking back at nayeon who's started to move around, cleaning her room up a little and putting on some clothes.

"she's no-one y/n. we just- i was drunk and she helped me home."

"i'm sure she helped you with some other stuff too." you glare daggers into her back, tracing the red scratch marks that are raked across the skin.

"don't be like that y/n."

"be like what?"

"look i made a mistake. okay? can we just move past this now?"

you scoff, "are you fucking serious nayeon? you didn't just make a mistake. you made the mistake."

nayeon turns now, fully dressed, her temper also flaring, "okay! and i admit it! i'm sorry! what more do you want?!"

"for you to actually fucking mean it! she's not even the first person you've cheated on me with is she?"

"what? what are you trying to say?"

"don't gimme that. i didn't want to believe it. when you'd come home smelling like someone else. when things would be better for short periods of time after you come back from your trips or from overseas, it was because you went and fucked out all your frustration right? frustration with this relationship? i'm sick of tiptoeing around this nayeon, let's sort our shit out right now because this has got to end somewhere."

"end?" nayeon laughs cruelly, "where do you want this to end y/n? if you've known i've been cheating on you for so long why haven't you ended things? are you so fucking pathetic you'd stay with someone who's actively sleeping with someone new every night?"

you're taken aback by her tone, but you steel yourself, spitting right back, "well if you think i'm so pathetic why haven't you broken things off?"

"too much work, too much drama. and i felt bad. what do you have if you don't have me? i was being considerate."

"considerate? you're fucking joking. you think cheating on me for however long is being considerate?"

nayeon throws her hand up in the air in frustration, "so what!? it's not like you've been trying to make this relationship work recently!"

"oh don't you try and shift the blame onto me nayeon! you're not the same person i fell in love with. you started drinking uncontrollably, you started smoking, sleeping around, lying to me, i don't even recognise you anymore. you know what? you're right. i've been pathetic. pathetic for holding on to the hope that you still loved me. that you still even fucking cared about me. so this is me ending things now. thanks for helping me realise that i guess." you start to go around her room, collecting a few of your things that are still in her space, moving out to the rest of the apartment to do the same.

nayeon's left in her room, fuming and lighting up a cigarette.

when you're almost done, she comes out again, seeming to have calmed down and recollected herself.

"y/n wait. don't go. why are we doing this? we don't have to break up. we've been together for so long, i won't cheat on you anymore. i promise, we can get back to what we were y/n."

your heart strings tug at the sight, wanting to cling onto her words, the only thing you've been wanting to hear from her since the start of the deterioration of your relationship.

she senses your hesitance, stepping forward slowly, and then engulfing you in a hug.

you almost burst then, sighing against her and breathing in. but what hits you isn't her usual lemon scent, it's the stink of cigarettes and another woman's perfume. that brings you back to reality very quickly.

you shove her off, "bullshit. we're done nayeon."

it takes everything in you to turn away from the confused, hurt look on her face, stalking out her apartment and not looking back.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

the next few weeks are hell. nayeon keeps trying to contact you and talk about the breakup, all while you're slowly trying to let go of the pieces of her you've clung onto. throwing out her things, memoirs of your relationship back when it was good, trying to healthily move on as best you could.

but it's hard when nayeon storms into your office space, employees turning over to look on in curiosity at why im nayeon, face of TWICE, saver of JYP and the reason they all have jobs right now, was coming down to talk to lowly office workers.

she stops at your desk, "y/n."

"don't do this here nayeon. i'm at work. you should be too."

"i make the work. they can't do anything without me. stop avoiding me. let's talk."

you sigh frustratedly, looking around at the prying eyes, "fine but not here." you really didn't want to talk to her but this was better than causing a scene in front of the entire staff.

you lead her towards the staff bathrooms, locking the door behind you and gesturing for her to talk.

"look, i messed up. i admit it. these last few weeks have been hell without you. i realised how much you meant to me when i lost you. i promise to do everything i can to make up for all the shit i've pulled. i want us to be together again. i want what we used to have."

you sigh, "don't do this nayeon."

"what?"

"don't lie to me again. i can't take it."

"i'm not lying!"

"how can i trust that after you cheated on me?! after you lied about it to me for months?!"

"i'm sorry! i said i'm sorry! i want to earn your trust back again! i'm trying here y/n!"

"i tried for us for months. you didn't even acknowledge that. do you know how many times i've had to apologise to you? because i thought we were fighting because of me? how many times you've made me feel like i was just an insecure girlfriend? while you were out fucking half of seoul?"

"i'm sorry baby please! i'll never make you feel like that again. i promise to be honest and- and- i love you y/n please don't leave me."

"i can't believe you nayeon. and i don't want you to talk to me anymore. it's hard enough getting over you without you blowing up my phone every 2 minutes."

you turn around again, unlocking the door and intending to leave, but then nayeon rushes to hug you, squeezing herself against you, burrowing her face in your neck. you can feel her tears dripping down your skin.

"p-please y/n. i messed up. i don't want to lose you. i don't know what i'll do with myself. i was wrong the other day. i'm the pathetic one. i can't live without you y/n please."

everything in you is screaming to take her back. but she'd made a fool of you enough times. you shrug her off, opening the door and leaving her behind for a second time.

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

it seems your message got through to nayeon this time. the next few days are a little quieter. she doesn't try to contact you, nor does she try and come by your house or catch you outside on one of your routines.

your coworkers had tried to ask you how you knew the im nayeon, but you brushed them off, saying she was just asking you some things about her next promotion. you were thankful you didn't have to see nayeon too much at work, and she didn't try and confront you again either, so things returned to as relative normal as it could get working for a major entertainment company.

that is until, you're suddenly called up into the top brass' office on a random tuesday morning as soon as you clock in.

"y/n. please sit."

you hesitate, tentatively sitting down on one of expensive leather chairs, back straight and feeling sweat collect in your palms.

the directors in the room gesture towards the massive screen at the end of the board table, flicking it on.

your eyes widen as the audio starts to play. it was a shoddily recorded video from inside a bathroom cubicle, but you could clearly hear the argument you and nayeon had just a few days prior. your cheeks flare up as the video continues to play, you feel extremely small in the boardroom, your privacy completely invaded, your breakup argument aired out for everyone in the room to hear.

"now y/n, of course we knew about your relationship with nayeon, if we didn't, nayeon would quite literally be in deep shit right now."

you shuffle in your seat, deeply uncomfortable with the various men staring at you, "this was a personal conversation between nayeon and i. how did you get this video?"

"someone recorded the two of you in the bathroom and then leaked it to all the major news and gossip sites. this video is currently being viewed by everyone across seoul and has even gained some traction overseas."

your heart sinks, this is the worst possible outcome, worse than just losing nayeon, worse than finding out she was cheating on you, it's finding out all of that with all her fans, all her haters, who didn't even know nayeon was dating you of all people, find out it was actually you who broke up with her and not the other way around.

"you work in publicity. i'm sure you understand how this is not a good look for nayeon's public image right now yes?"

you nod dumbly.

"great. so we're gonna need you to fix this. we have press outside waiting for a statement from you already."

you stutter, "r-right now?!"

"yes. so you better come up with something quick if you want to keep your job." they're getting more impatient.

you gulp, nodding again, mind scrambling, ideas flying through your head while they lead you up, and then outside to a room with various journalists and photographers. you don't even realise you're standing in front of everyone on the podium until one of the directors nudges you, indicating for you to speak.

"u-um h-hi everyone. i'm sure you're all here because of the recent news about nayeon and i's... altercation."

cameras start flashing as everyone looks at you with bated breath.

you can tell the directors behind you get a little antsy under the attention, wanting you to hurry things up.

you clear your throat, "nayeon is involved with a new filming project that has not yet been revealed. as part of her publicity team she asked me to run a few lines with her in what we thought would be the privacy of one of the staff bathrooms. i have had a little experience in the film industry which is why she specifically asked for me. there is nothing else going on between us and there has been nothing going on between us. this is all simply a big misunderstanding and we hope that you will respect nayeon's privacy in the months coming forward as she prepares this new project for you all. thank you."

as soon as you're done the reporters all clamour forwards, yelling out questions but you're pushed to the side, being led away quickly, distantly hearing someone take over the podium stating a curt, "there will be no questions at this time."

you're still processing everything that's happening when they sit you down in a room you haven't seen before, terrified you're about to lose your job, but also concerned for nayeon. you wonder if she's seen the news yet? you shouldn't care about her anymore but you couldn't help it. it was still too soon to be completely over her. this was all happening so quickly. you knew falling for a celebrity was going to be difficult, and in the beginning nayeon had promised that as long as you had her, everything would be okay, neither of you expected this to be the outcome.

your head's in your hands when you hear the door open, the hushed whispers of people and footsteps doing very little to pull you out of your thoughts. you wait for them to quiet down, the door shutting quietly behind them. you take a breath, prepared for any outcome, looking up to face your consequences.

only to find it was nayeon standing in front of you. you finally take in your surroundings, it seems you were in one of the dance practice rooms. you didn't even realise you had been taken to the idol levels of the building, no recollection of even going into the elevator.

you stand apprehensively, "n-nayeon."

she stares you down, eyes fierce. she's silent for a moment, before speaking up, "are you fucking stupid y/n?"

you flinch at her tone "w-what?"

she stalks forward slowly, backing you against the floor to ceiling mirrors behind you. you can see your own face in the mirror on the other side of the wall, terrified and bloodshot.

"i said, are you fucking stupid?"

"n-no?"

"i thought you were meant to be on my publicity team." she spits out the words.

"i- well- they didn't give me any time. i had to come up with something on the spot."

"i told you when we first started dating didn't i? that as long as you were with me everything would be okay? that meant for you to leave things to me to deal with."

you gulp, your hands flat on the mirror behind you, trying to make yourself as small as possible, the coolness of the glass doing little to ground you.

she scoffs, "pathetic little baby. you really are useless without me aren't you? a film project? are you serious? now the company has to go find a screenwriter to write our private discussion into some shitty film that i have to work even more for. and they're gonna rush me too since you said we've had this in the works for a while already. not to mention it means we'll have to spend more time together. after i had just started letting you go too."

she sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut, bringing her hands up to mess through her hair in frustration. you nervously take her in, she must have just come from dance practice. her skin still has the sheen of sweat, clothes sticking to her body, you always had a thing for her after her workout sessions. you're not sure if it's because you hadn't been intimate in so long, or if you just missed her, but there's a twinge of arousal in your core at the sight of her so close to you, being able to smell the distinct scent of her sweat, clean of any cigarettes or perfumes you didn't recognise, it was just nayeon.

your eyes flick back up to her's when you realise they were open the whole time, watching you check her out. she knew the effect she had on you, her lips turn upward in a little smirk.

she takes a step forward, cocking her head. you don't have any more steps back to take.

"i thought you wanted us to be over y/n."

"i d-do." you're eyes are flicking everywhere, avoiding her dangerous gaze, but the mirrors only make you grow more aroused, able to see the two of you from all angles.

"really?" she's close enough you can feel her breath fan over your face, her voice husking out in a drawl she's reserved for the bedroom. "so you don't want me at all right now?"

"n-not at all m-" you slip, almost calling her by her title in bed, something you haven't used in months.

she raises an eyebrow, "what was that baby?"

"n-nothing."

she tuts, "so if you don't want me... you're not gonna be wet if i check right?"

your eyes widen, thighs clenching together uncontrollably, "n-no."

"hmm, and if you're lying?"

"i'm not."

"prove it."

you flush, the proximity making you feel dizzy, it was like your first time with her all over again.

"how am i gonna prove it?"

she walks back then, completely nonchalant, sitting on the couch on the other end of the room, legs spread, arms thrown over the back of the couch carelessly, eyes never leaving your body.

"strip."

"w-what?! we're not together anymore i'm not gonna-"

"strip."

"nayeon this isn't- we're both at work-"

"it hasn't stopped us before. i clearly remember fucking you on the rooftop of this building while everyone was at that special lunch event for JYP's birthday."

you're so flustered, mind torn between your brain and your throbbing cunt, she already had such an effect on you after not having touched you for months.

"i'm not doing this with you nayeon. this is completely unprofessional not to mention anyone could walk in and-"

"fine. leave."

you're completely stumped. her hot and cold attitude was sending you into a confusion you couldn’t make sense of. you walk towards the door, bring your hand up to the doorknob, but before you know it, instead of listening to your brain and leaving then and there, you lock the door, turning back to your ex-girlfriend who looks smugly sat and comfortable, expecting you to have chosen her.

"you can never be good can you baby? i have to tell you the opposite for you to do what i want you to do hmm?"

you mutter a small shut up, slipping out of your clothes quickly and moving in towards her. but the second you try climbing into her lap, she's pushing you up, standing, one hand on your chest, the other cupping your face.

"nuh uh. you don't just get to use me and leave me. i'm the one that's mad with you right now. dumb little thing couldn't even come up with a good enough excuse for that publicity stunt back there. you know you come to mommy first when something about my job comes up don't you?"

"i-i-! i didn't have a choice! they had the press outside waiting as soon as i got the news and-"

"there's always a choice. poor little thing's just too innocent, letting herself get taken advantage of. you know what the media are saying right now? that it's all a lie. that we do have history and you're the one that made the statement because the company wanted you to take the fall. that doesn't sound good does it?"

you shake your head, feeling terribly exposed in just your underwear and bra.

"no it doesn't. and now i’m gonna have to fix the mess you made."

you can't do anything else except bow your head in submission, mumbling out a small, "i'm sorry."

she tilts your head back up to look at her, and even though you had a few inches on her, her presence filled the room, you were tiny standing before her.

"at least you know how to apologise. now are you going to let me check if you're wet?"

you nod, afraid of speaking up.

she smirks, trailing her fingers down your chest, skimming over your nipples and your stomach, leaving goosebumps in her wake. you try your hardest not to shiver or squirm underneath her touch, anticipating what nayeon was to find at your core.

her fingers finally dip down past your hips, pulling down your panties slowly, watching you like a hawk. and then her long, long fingers are teasing down the line of your cunt, she tuts, collecting your arousal and pulling her hand back up.

"looks like you were lying after all. what are we gonna do about this hmm?"

your eyes clenched shut at the feeling of her fingers running down your pussy, you're unable to open them again when she questions you. "d-don't know mommy."

nayeon grins at the title, "so polite. so dumb. it's okay. mommy's gonna take care of you now yeah?"

and then before you can formulate your next thought she's turning you around, pushing you down into the couch. you land with an oomph, eyes opening at the shock of force, but nayeon simply gets on her knees and rips your panties off, pulling you to the edge of the couch and throwing your legs over her shoulders, diving in without another word.

your hand immediately comes to her head, gripping her hair and pulling slightly in the way you know she likes, moaning as you feel her clean all the slick that's leaked down to your inner thighs and outer lips.

she's absolutely insatiable. starved for pussy like she hasn't eaten anything in three days. she doesn't care when you whine and tell her to slow down or be softer, she knew better, you dripped at her rough treatment. it was like riding a bike to nayeon. despite not having tasted you in so long she still remembers each sliver of skin that makes your toes curl, every spot that makes your heels dig into her back and beg for more.

all of your senses are focused only on the feeling of her tongue inside of you. you can feel the vibrations of her moaning and speaking up, but your ears don't pick up on the words, strained only to hear the sloppy sounds of nayeon slurping up every drop of arousal that spills out of you.

"m-mommy- i- oh fuck-"

you don't hear her response, only a messy suck on your clit as she hums around it.

"g-gonna- fuck mommy please- make me cum please-"

she never stops her assault, her hands gripping your thighs, keeping them forced open while you wriggle and strain against her. one of your hands leaves her head, coming up to palm at your breast over your bra, easily finding your hard nipple through the fabric and pinching. you can feel yourself clench at the feeling, more arousal leaking out of you, all of which nayeon eagerly drinks up.

one more thrust of her tongue, another suck to your clit, another pinch of your nipple, and you're crying out her name, throwing your head back, hand clutching onto her head for dear life, but then everything stops.

you feel the orgasm that had near electrified you pull inwards and back up to your stomach, like the waves on a beach right before the tsunami hits. you're panting, looking back down and clumsily trying to bring your hand to your clit to bring back the orgasm she ripped away from you so violently.

she smacks your hand away, pulling you up onto shaky legs and then turning you around, pushing you back down so you're ass up, grabbing onto the back of the couch to support what your legs couldn't. she kicks open your legs wider, delirious at the way her spit mixed with your slick dribbles down your thighs, hands coming in immediately to scoop it back up, teasing the sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

she leans over you, pulling your hair back so you're forced to look into the mirror right in front of you. the scene is pornographic. your eyes are lidded, mouth open, drool slipping out, skin blotchy and red, while nayeon is behind you nosing at your neck, her mouth covered in you, hair a mess from the way you had pulled her out of her updo.

"look at you-" she coos, "so fucking pathetic for me. spread out like this with me between your legs, where anyone could walk in and see you come undone because of me. that would give the press a field day wouldn't it?" she laughs cruelly, tugging your hair back more to expose your throat, "what would you say then? would this be practice for another film again?" she bites down at the side of your neck, sucking a newly formed mark into your skin.

“mmf- mommy please- more please- i d-don’t know i-“

"god you don't know how hard these last few days have been for me. i don't know what more you want from me. i apologised and i told you i'd never do it again, that only you would get to see how these fingers feel inside of you." she punctuates her sentence by sliding two fingers inside, no further preparation needed with how soaked you were after she ate you out. you immediately clench around her, your body needing to keep her inside of you as long as possible, terrified she would leave you on the precipice of cumming again. "but that just wasn't enough for you was it? greedy little baby. i bet you missed me too. actually, i know you missed me too with how fucking wet you are right now. no one can fuck you like i can right? no one can make you feel as good as i do."

every filthy word that comes out of her mouth is accompanied with a thrust into your pussy. the squelch of her fingers entering and exiting you leave your thighs shaking, almost all your body weight held up by your arms on the back of the couch. it’s pathetic the way she has you wrapped around her finger, literally. you bite your lip, shame washing over you as you remember where you were and what she did to you. you’d expect that feeling to anger you, push her off of you, but you only clench down tighter against her, impervious to your more sane thoughts.

“what if you were the one who leaked that video to the press? did you want my attention on you that badly baby? want the whole world’s attention on us? was that your sick way of revenge against me, let the whole world know you were mine first instead of all those other randoms i fucked? you’d love if someone came in right now and filmed us wouldn’t you? release that to the media too? that way you’d be immortalised, everyone would see you’re just a fucktoy for im nayeon.”

you whine, needing to come so bad the overstimulation forces tears out of your eyes, the sight of her pressed up against you, your breasts bouncing with each thrust of her fingers, still contained within your bra.

nayeon notices your line of sight, hand snaking up around your waist to pull your cup down roughly, your left tit bouncing out, nipple already perked up and pretty. nayeon wastes no time, still whispering filth into your ear while she watches herself take your exposed tit into her large hands, squeezing as you moan at her touch, pushing out your chest submissively for her. she moulds and plays around with it, fingers coming in to pinch at the nipple, smirking when she feels your cunt clench around her fingers at the movement, rolling your nipple around between your fingers and pulling it roughly.

“you gonna cum baby? you’re squeezing me so fucking tight right now.”

you babble in response, a string of yes and please slurred together.

“mm you’re mine. if anyone ever fucks you in the future all you’re gonna remember is me. how i feel inside you right now. reaching parts of you no one else will be able to reach. you’re ruined for me baby. now cum.”

you shudder as you cum on command, legs completely giving out while nayeon holds you up, still thrusting into you to help you ride out your orgasm.

it takes you a while to come down and back into your senses, nayeon doesn’t seem to leave your body, her fingers still fit snugly inside you while you flutter around the feeling of being full.

finally, when she’s had her fun, she props you back down onto the couch, you’re sprawled open, cum leaking out of you, one tit falling out of your bra, arms uselessly laid against your side.

she smirks at the sight, fixing herself in the mirror before looking back to you.

“i’ll talk to the directors about the film. you don’t have to worry your dumb little brain about that anymore. but it is a little weird for one of my publicity officers to be running lines with me, so i’m also gonna talk to them about bringing you on as one of my managers. that means you’re gonna move your pretty ass back into my apartment, bring all your things and whatever else you need, non-negotiable. i own you y/n. and i know deep down you still want me too.”

she takes her leave at that, leaving you exposed and sweaty, head empty except for the fact that she was right. you’d never be able to get enough of nayeon, you’d always be in this twisted, torturous cycle of misguided love and lust with her, and you brought it upon yourself.

[starboye]

starring: scott summers x male reader x remy lebeau

request: Do you think you could do vanilla sex (Doesn't have to be too vanilla but it's just nice and slow and maybe body worship) with Gambit x Scott x bottom reader?? I wanna make Scott all flushed when the reader praises him and Gambit just begging the reader to focus on him as well and he might be a little rougher with his thrusts or something to get his attention!!

warnings: smut, cursing, double penetration, praising, body worship if you squint, vanilla sex, jealous!remy

after a successful mission like today it would be so wrong not to reward your two favorite boys with some loving, bringing them back to your room and slowly starting to make out with them, little congratulation kisses turning into sloppily making out with each other and then you on top of scott with remy standing behind you, both slowly thrusting in and out of your supple hole.

"you did great today scott" you lightly moan leaning down to kiss him deeply "well i couldn't have done it without the team" he tries to say but you stop him with another kiss "and who commanded that team hm" you softly say "i- i did" he stammers to your words, remy standing behind you hoping that he could get some compliments to but no all your loving words go straight to scott annoying him.

"y/n" remy says snaking his hands around your waist "yeah rem" you question turning your head to face him "d-did i do good" he flashes a smile hoping you say something nice "yeah you did good" you shrug your shoulders before turning back to praise scott more, but good just good how come scott gets great and he gets good, what did he do wrong, oh my god are you mad at him, all things remy was thinking as you talked to scott more.

"you were so brave, fighting off the sentinels all by yourself" you further praised him as your hands roamed his body, feeling down his chest all the way to his glistening abs "thank you" he blushes, flustered by all your kind words while remys face turned sour, quietly mimicking your words with annoying facial expressions till an idea sparks in his head and a smirk spreads across his face.

he slowly begins thrusting into you harder trying to get you attention, you feel your body jolt forward a little and some pressure build in you stomach from remys cock hitting the inside of your gummy like walls so you whip around to see the cause, you see remy looking at you with angry eyes, glowing a slight hint of purple at you "is there something you want to tell me remy" you ask, glaring at him with narrow eyes.

breaking down remys walls immediately, his face turning from anger to softness "where's my compliments, i mean you tell scott all these sweet things but not me" he whines sitting his head on your shoulder and slowing thrusts to be more careful "who would've thought that the tough remy lebeau would be a sucker for compliments" you laugh running your fingers through his hair.

"i just wanna hear you" he softly speak into your neck with kisses before wrapping his arms around you into a hug, scott watching in amazement at remy becoming a softy "well you also did so go- no so great today, i saw you out there throwing you cards and blowing stuff up as always" you compliment bringing a little grin to remys face.

"matter of fact both of you did amazing today" you cheerily say making the boys smile widely and inch them closer to their own climaxes "c-can we... cum now" scott asks feeling himself on the edge of blowing "mhm please y/n" remy asks still holding you tightly as if you were going to leave him right there "yes you can" you say feeling them shake under you.

a slew of whines and moans fall from both of their mouths as the pump cum into you, shudders running down your back as their hands search your body for any contacts they can make, groping and grabbing everywhere on you, finally coming down from the high they pull out of you, cum dripping from your sloppy hole and running down your legs.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[azullumi]

"orion" ; aventurine

summary : he has lived through many lives, has met many people, has gone through many places, but the shadow of your soul follows him wherever he goes and his eyes would search for a glimpse of your smile everywhere. he continues to look for the light that touches him, not the sun, not the moon, but you.

tags : star-crossed 2024, reincarnation concept, established relationship but also not established in some parts, usage of metaphors, fluff with angst and comfort, crumbs of insecure aventurine, snippets of his lifetimes and how he finds you in each one of them, not proofread sorry, 2.9k words ; one-shot

tagging : @toorurs (hi boo)

notes : i had two ideas in mind but the other was too complicated and would be lengthy so i decided to have this one instead. anwss, i hope you'll like this one!!

Aventurine has recurring dreams of you.

(It was a blessing.)

Ones that feel like fleeting moments in the wind destined to be taken away from him as soon as he tries to hold it. It crumbles into dust and falls to the ground he stands on, and he’ll try to pick up your pieces but it doesn’t stay in his hands for long. Perhaps it was meant to leave, not to last, and perhaps, he’ll hold on to what little is left of the particles in his palms.

In his dreams, you’ll kiss the scars on his skin and he’ll adore you, clear vivid eyes painted with vibrant hues that capture all his affection for you in his soft gaze (they say the eyes are the windows to the soul and you’ll see your reflection in his). You’ll tell him of all the worries that plague your mind, of all the thoughts that bothers you, of everything that you’ll think of.

“If you have 3 lifetimes, what would you do in each one of them?” You speak softly, a soft murmur to the night as you look at him with your eyes wide with curiosity. Aventurine will find himself baffled over your question, eyebrows knitted as he falls into his thoughts—he wouldn’t know what to say.

“It’s not that hard to answer, is it?”

“How about you answer first? I’m a little curious about what you’ll say.”

You hum, lips pursed into a smile as if you already know what to say, as if you’ve been waiting for the moment that someone will ask you that question; You recount your desires to him on how you want to be a bookstore owner but also a florist, on how you wish to soar the skies but also travel across the seas, on how you want to be everything and nothing all at once. 3 lifetimes would simply not be enough for your wishes.

He likes listening to your voice as you speak, adores the way the corners of your eyes wrinkle when you think of something you like. But somewhere in the back of his head, turmoil creeps into the cracks of his mind and settles on the sharp edges.

“Your turn.” You say, beaming a warm smile at him yet he falls into silence once more. He feels ashamed, humiliation seeping into the gaps of his fingers and traces the lines of his palms—you were so full of light, embodying solace in your being, you are what is adored and seeked yet he stands beside you, seemingly like a shadow that haunts your steps, hesitation lingers and tugs at his hand even when he’ll try to touch you. He’s unsure of what he wants in this life even more for the ones that will supposedly come. He finds it unfair—perhaps for you—for him. 

“Still no answer?” Your voice sounds reassuring, soft as you lightly graze your finger on his skin, your ghosting touch making his lips shudder. It was comforting, the way that you’ll speak to him, the way that you’ll touch him, the way that you’ll love him—it was all warm and comforting. You brush your hand on his cheek, tucking away stray strands of hair behind his ear; “It’s alright, it was a sudden question anyways. Also, something stupid to ask.”

“No, it’s not—it’s not stupid.” He stumbles over his words; he rarely stutters, rarely finds himself tripping on the bumps of the letters that fall out of his mouth but he finds himself staggering on the line of vulnerability and uncertainty. You hum, nodding, seemingly encouraging him to spill out whatever he wishes to say because you’ll listen, no matter how ridiculous it can be.

“I just haven’t thought about it.” Aventurine, though he may not say it, doesn’t like thinking of the future. It just reminds him how everything ahead of him is just empty and narrow, it’s as if he has to walk alone.

“But I…” His voice trails off and yet a thought lingers inside his head, making its way down his throat and clawing the walls of his mouth; the more he’ll keep it in, the more he’ll taste the blood of his perished words on his tongue.

“I’ll look for you in each one of them.”

The wind blows against his and your form and he feels your lips all over his face, pressing delicate kisses all over the lines and wrinkles of his features as if a brush to a canvas. The light would become too bright for him so he closes his eyes, relishing in this moment where you hold his face in your hands as if he was made out of broken pieces carved out of people’s miseries, as if he was something fragile, and the dirt that stains the waters of his mind seemingly dissipates like it never existed.

“Another stupid question, did you know how much I love you?” You’ll whisper against his lips, a smile tugging on the corners of your mouth. Your breath tickles his skin and he can’t hide the smile that draws on his face.

“How much?”

“I’ll give the world to you.”

And he’ll wake up.

(Or perhaps, a curse.)

Aventurine stands before the colorful blossoms displayed in pots and buckets of different sizes and colors. The essence of spring dances in the air, filling the place with the scent of blooming flowers and the sight of receding snow that unveils the land below; the sight of it is not unfamiliar to him. He has seen thousands of it—the different seasons that weave its life in his surroundings and has lived through many of them.

He has had many lives and he has been everyone but also no one. He has been a puppet, a poet, a prince, a musician, a gambler. Little pieces of himself merge into the likeness that he sees in front of the mirror everyday. His form is battered, bruised, broken all over, patched and affixed together with nonviscid tape, sewed with delicate threads of fate—there are days that he doesn’t recognize the person standing in front of the reflective glass. Even if has retained most of his features, most especially his eyes, and nothing drastic has changed from what he once was; yet he struggles in seeing himself in the mirror.

“Are you looking to buy a bouquet?” A voice breaks him out of his trance, pulling him back to reality. It must have been weird seeing a man just standing for minutes in front of the displays and staring into space.

“No, not re—” His sentence breaks off abruptly when he turns his head to the sound of the voice and his eyes meet a pair that causes memories to surge like a harsh tide that pulls everything into the depths; it sweeps him under like a fierce undertow as it drags him back to the profundity of what haunts him. His thoughts that seem like old, faded photographs flicker in his mind, and the sound of buzzing fills his ears as the world comes to a still.

It feels as though the ground beneath him has crumbled away. There you are.

“Sir?” It’s you, it’s you that calls out to him and not a random person that he meets somewhere he can’t remember, not a stranger that would approach him and ask for his name, not someone that he thought was you.

“Nothing,” Aventurine shakes his head and composes himself, “I would like to get a bouquet.”

“Of course, which flowers would you like to have?”

“I’m not entirely sure. What do you recommend?” If this was his attempt of making a conversation, he lies between the line of failing and succeeding. He’s not even here with the plans of bringing home a bouquet to give nor decorate his house and he’s not even sure if he has his wallet with him.

You hum as you fall into deep thought and you begin to count tales of different flowers and paint the meanings behind them with your voice, and you come to mention one that made his heart skip like stone in a pond, and his breath hitch. You speak of a certain flower with such tender affection and all he can think of is how you used to adore this very one even back then, and how your home used to be adorned with it.

“Is that your favorite?” The golden-haired man asks, curiosity wrapping around his tone as he speaks despite the fact that he already knows your answer and you smile at him, warmly—and oh, how much he missed seeing it. It’s like he has fallen in love all over again and the colors paint all over his once bleak and mellow life. Even after all this time, all these years, all these lifetimes, he still has you carved in his soul, every part of you etched on the bumps of his skin. As if you’re engraved like a scar on his body, persisting, lingering.

“It’s a lovely flower, how could I not?” The sound of laughter forms in your throat and spills out of your lips. It’s a lovely sound that he has inscribed in the very depths of his mind, one that would muddle his sleep or disturb him in the moments of silence he would revel in, trying to find the wind to ground himself.

You’re still the same as he remembers.

Memories lie dormant like fragile butterflies trapped within glass jars, fluttering and flickering, casting shadows upon the vulnerable walls of his conscience. Remembering, a troublesome thing that weighs heavy in his mind, tugging on his thoughts, and having a tight embrace on his heart. Sometimes he thinks it’s just a dream, one meaningless and lengthy dream that is meant to harrow him every time that he wakes up. But it was real, all of it is real—the laughter, the kisses, the touches, the smiles, you. How could he ever deny your existence?

Aventurine is in his nth life, not knowing how many times he has experienced death and the feeling of waking up to a strange and unfamiliar place, while his memories would flow to him like water in a stream. It comes in slow, steady, he’ll pick up broken shards of it and keep his fingers close—it will stab and make his hand bleed.

His hand, it was yours once. Clasped, held, weaved into the small gaps of your own. You held him as if he was yours to have—and he really is. He’ll walk through the busy streets with a gaze that roams everywhere, holding the anticipation, hope, that he’ll catch you amidst the crowds of people whose face appears to be nonexistent to him. 

(He’ll look for you everywhere he goes, in museums, flower shops, bookstores, in the rivers, in fields, on the ground, everywhere.)

“Oh no, I’m sorry!”

Books came falling, papers scattered all over the pavement, and he saw someone in front of him, seemingly panicking as they gather all of their things; Aventurine wasn’t a heartless man nor was he cruel so he knelt to the ground and picked up all the remaining papers before handing it to them—lifting his gaze, to be met by a pair of eyes that he looks for everywhere.

(And he’ll find you.)

There was once a moment where you remember him.

It wasn’t just a, “I passed by you on the streets and you caught my attention since and I think of you everyday,” but it was, “I know you because you existed in my life before this.” It was something he had never expected, a moment where he had to pinch himself on the thigh to see if this was one of his messy dreams but it hurt and his heart ached.

(In this life, you were lost, alone, not knowing what to do nor what you wished to do—you simply stood still as you watched the strangers passing by, as everything before you crumbled. In this life, you were nothing but his friend and he was nothing but yours.)

“I’m sorry?” He says, still in disbelief on what he is hearing. Maybe it was just his ears playing tricks on him, his mind playing illusions for him due to how much he misses you. Oh, if only you knew how tight your grasp is on him; it troubles him with the way he’ll catch you in the corner of his eye but there’s nothing there but dust, he’ll feel your presence everywhere even when you’re nowhere to be found.

“You’re him. The one that is always in my dreams.” Aventurine will open his mouth to speak but nothing would come out; he remains silent, unable to find the words to say.

“Rine.” His breath hitched. Everything faded into white noise and there was only you in his eyes—there was only you and him. He has long abandoned that name, taking on different ones in each passing life but even if he has left it behind, he always remembers how you used to call him so sweetly and gently as if he was the only one that matters to you. “I missed you.”

Your voice breaks and he swears, it felt like something inside him had shattered. How long has he waited for this moment? How much has he dreamt of the day that you’ll remember him? He didn’t think it was possible but he holds on to the thin thread of hope that you will.

“Do you… Do you not remember me?” You look hurt at that thought, your gaze wavering as you look at him with tear-stained eyes.

“I do.” He whispers, broken. “I do remember you.” He always remembers you. It’s a burden that he carries for so long but he will never let go—he wishes he could, he wishes he wanted to. Your voice, your touch, your laugh, your embrace, your eyes, everything about you will always come to haunt him; you are too entertwined with his soul, threads bound and tangled together in knots that can never be undone.

The two of you talk about everything on this night as the stars above you listen, as the moon will become a witness to the words and caresses. You’ll tell him of all the dreams that you had, memories that will haunt you the same way it haunted him.

“I’ll remember you tomorrow and even the days after. I’ll remember you, always, even in the next lifetimes.” You say, certainty and assurance seeps into the tone of his voice and a part of Aventurine feels relieved and broken at the same time.

He smiles, “You will.” (You don’t know it but this too will be buried in the grave of the past and he will come to mourn it in every moment he wakes.)

“Kiss me, please?” You didn’t have to beg for anything, you will never have to beg for anything. He has looked for the shadow of your form, for the sound of your footsteps and laughter, for the feeling of your hand in his. You will never have to beg him for anything—he’ll give you the world if you ask.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He whispers against your lips, his warm breath fanning your skin—a contrast to the cold night breeze that brushes against you.

“You’ll hear me tomorrow. I’ll call you, I promise. So please don’t keep your phone on silent.”

“I don’t. You’re the only person on my phone.”

You laugh at that, short and sweet. “Really?”

He kisses you once more, a fleeting one but the taste of his lips lingered on yours. “I only have you.”

The night draws to a close and Aventurine waits for the sun with bated breath but you weren’t able to fulfill your promise, for on the morning when the sun’s embrace caressed your skin, you remained in slumber’s hold.

It’s his second life, the life where he first remembers everything and when he is still not tormented by the burden (a curse) that he will hold all of the memories and you will remain in each one of them.

“I have a question.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, all the while your hand plays with his own. Your fingers softly dance across his palm and mindlessly sketches invisible patterns and traces the lines etched on it, while he watches, captivated by the ballet of your touch. There’s the fresh smell of shampoo and soap in the air around him, and the warmth of his hands provides a refreshing contrast to the coolness of your skin, still tingling from your recent bath.

In this life, you own a bookstore just like you wish and he’s simply just your lover.

“What is it?” He answers, watching you as you draw what seems to be a flower on his palm. He finds it endearing, every moment that he spends with you is all too sweet and dear for him, no matter how small and mundane it can be. He adores seeing you under this light, cherishes the way you melt into his embrace and how you hold him in your arms (he wishes everything would be this simple).

“How would you know if it was me?” The movement of your fingers comes to a halt as you look up to him to meet his gaze; eyes wide with curiosity and affection, he meets your gaze. Aventurine thinks for a moment before he answers:

“I’ll know if it’s you, always.”

You let out a short laugh, your expression breaking out into a soft one. “What if I was a worm then?”

“You’ll be the first worm to make my heart flutter.” There was no need for such questions—Aventurine will recognize you everywhere, in different forms, in different light.

“What if I was a stone?”

He chuckles, “I’ll know.”

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[beansprean]

[Prints!]

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: Art nouveau portrait, full body, starring a fat white woman with long curling orange hair in a sheer chiton style dress. She is laying back diagonally across the image, knees pulled up and crossed at the ankle, one arm tucked behind her head and the other lifted to lay the back of her hand across her forehead in a swoon. Her long hair flows everywhere behind her, curling every way and drifting off the edges of the page. The background is a circular slice of sky, the bottom edge on which she is lounging. The edges are lines with gold patterned plating and a swirling green leaf design, leading to a topper of green leaves and symmetrical orange and yellow lilies. Brown tree branches curl and twist around the outside, budding with small leaves and more orange flowers. In the center, another bare branch forks like a lightning strike against a cold blue sky with white clouds. /end ID

[cevherien]

Ellie Williams, ྀི♡

Yandere Alphabet Headcanons

Along with your blood, sweat and fresh wounds.

Warnings Yandere, Smut, Angst, Blood and Gore, Violence, Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Vaginal Fingering, Fingerfucking, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Lesbian Sex, ww, Sapphic, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Kidnapping, Verbal Humiliation, Abuse, Toxic relationship

Also, hey. Dark content. Clearly. Kidnapping and yandere business is never consensual so keep that in mind.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Before Ellie started showing her lovesick tendencies, you'd thought that she was just the type of girl to be possessive over her loved ones, like a protective dog. But the more into the relationship you got the more intense her obsession became.

Insufferably jealous and easily irritable.

During sex she started getting rougher with you, leaving more visible marks across your body with her skilled mouth. Mumbling curses under her breath about how she couldn't bare to lose you, how you were meant to be. How much you meant to her.

"Tell me you'll never leave me angel, say it." she'd urge while two fingers knuckle deep into your sweet pussy, the pussy that belongs to her and her only. Curling them to your G-spot with ease, getting you to the edge with only simple movements.

With the way she blurs your thoughts, head in the stars with the satisfaction of each stroke, you can't get yourself to respond. All that leaves your lips are moans and the occasional call for her name.

Now that just won't do.

She'd grab your chin with her free hand, fingers squeezing your cheeks with a little more force than necessary, "I said tell me, tell me how much you need me." her fingers stop their movement so you can focus on her words better. "Say you'll never leave. Promise."

That night was the first time you saw such a dangerous spark in her pupils, one that spoke volumes about what was about to come.

"I promise, Ellie."

Not like you had a choice in her eyes.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Real messy.

We all know she gets the job done, she is no rookie in the killing game. This is not something new for her, the killing atleast.

But now she has you, she swore to be more careful to not get any unwanted attention from people but it's not her fault that a pretty little thing like you attract the worst kind of pesticides. She won't even dare call them human, just filth. Filth that wants to take you away. Unacceptable. Unforgivable.

-

Ellie violently stabs the now completely unrecognizable corpse. Been going at it even after it died. This little piece of shit had its eyes on you. Undeserving little whore that was, thinking it had a chance.

Her angry screams fill the night along with the wet splash of blood everywhere leaving god knows how many stab wounds behind.

Ellie pulls back away, but not without spitting at it for one last time.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Never. You are her sweetheart, her lifeline. The blood that pumps in her veins, it's all for you. The breath in her lungs rushes in for you and her heart beats with the contagious love she carries for you.

But the catch is, she expects the same from you. It's only fair, no? If Ellie is to dedicate her all for you, she thinks you should be doing just the same.

She worships you, quite literally.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Anything thats for your own good, for your own safety. She knows what's best for you, always. The more you deny, the more pervasive and stubborn she'll get, leaving you no freedom left whatsoever.

But in her eyes your freedom belongs to her. Just like how you do too. Her precious baby, all for her to love on, all for her to adore.

She doesn't acknowledge or recognize your autonomy & consent in times like this, yet ask her, she'll deny rape. Afterall, aren't you her sweet girlfriend, soon to be wife, darling, angel? ,,All her's so she doesn't really need to ask.’’

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Ellie is absolutely infatuated with you. We know that, whats new?

She is truly her genuine self with you, shows you all her colors, which also -unfortunately- includes the ugly aspects. Since she loves you this much, why can't you excuse her imperfections? Love her as she is. as the monster she has become

Disinterested and rude as she may be to others, to her angel she is a saint.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Betrayed, confused and scared..? You were supposed to be by her side no matter what. No matter. You promised. Come back. Don't go. Please don't leave.

Was she too overwhelming for you? Was her love too much?

That night she makes her plans for the abduction.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

She isn't playing when it comes to you, she can't have you abandon her. Ellie genuinely believes she's better off dead without you.

Foreshadowing

Oh and don't even try your luck running away, your first few attempts were futile and she had gotten more paranoid and violent after each try, leaving you no choice but hope for someone else to come get you. But Ellie would make sure nobody even knew of you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Probably first week of the kidnapping, just freshly captured and kept in Ellies basement for the time being, until you accept the shackles your new life, she'd be keeping you safe and sound.. or with no sound with the gags she used on you.

In her defense, you were screaming too much, tch her poor baby. You might just damage your throat and that just won't do. It's for your own well being baby, she swears.

"It hurts me more than it hurts you puppy, you know that."

-

The night that she drugged you, once too many times, she'd swore upon her love for you that this would be the last time. Since.. you won't be needing that no more, Ellie had planned this long before but now that it was finally happening, it felt surreal.

But hell, she couldn't keep her promise.

Why'd you have to misbehave so much? Just sit tight and enjoy your new life with her; getting used to it would take time, sure, but she had that in mind when she captured you, giving you some alone time in the basement to.. ehm, cope for a lack of a better word, cope with the loss of your old life, your freedom, your ways of living.

And soon yourself.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

After the difficult first two weeks in the basement with a fit thrown every other day, it was inevitable for your resolve to slowly crumble, shattering into in salvageable pieces like the shards of a broken wine glass; knocked, devastated, broken.

And that's exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She had too many things in mind for you: wife you up, keep you safe in her grasp. Her little doll to do whatever she desired. But planning too far ahead was never Ellies forte, you knew that. Her kidnapping you was impulsive and selfish, and she doesn't regret it one bit.

But for now, she'll just have you all by herself. Keep you naked for her viewing pleasure, her sweet insatiable eye candy you were.

Just sit pretty, thats all you had to do.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Once she feels like you finally accept her and your new life she would start taking you out occasionally, not too much though, and you can't leave her side not even for a second. Ground rules are to be followed, and thats one absolute.

And at days when she felt jealous or envious, sometimes for absolutely no reason, she'd take it out on a complete stranger she claims looked your way weird or stared at you for too long. When she doesn't have anybody else to blame she takes it out on you.

"Baby how could you do something like this to me? Betraying me and my trust like that..?" she'd spit on your face while fingers digging through the sensitive skin of your cheeks, "Is that what you are, bitch? A whore?"

"Ellie please-"

"A fucking whore that tries to seduce anyone she possibly can, and for what huh? All you need is me, don't you get it-!"

With that Ellie has her way with you for the rest of the night. Nose buried deep into your cunt, sniffing in your scent while she sobs as you are too tired to shed more tears. She'd apologize a mantra, yet your body would be too boneless tired and overstimulated to even respond. You'd only be hearing her pleading in tidbits in your state.

sorrybaby sosorrybaby imsosorry iloveyou please pleasedontleave dontleave me please dont leave

-

Before the usurp, before she opened your eyes as to what kind of person she truly was, before all the trauma and abuse, when you two were just an unconventionally overloving couple, she'd be constantly on your neck about how other people had their eyes on you and how she wasn't having it. You'd shrug it off with 'they don't matter to me', 'you're the only one for me Ellie.' or 'why does it matter, just ignore them'

At first she'd listen to you, but time pass, and her impulses get heavier to control leading her to murder them, or worse, torture them behind your back. And things would only escalate from there.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Like a primal fucking animal.

Groping your ass every chance she got, one hand one your waist constantly as if something or someone was going to take you away from her.

Hands exploring your inner thighs when sitting together, occasionally going in too deep and settle on top of your crouch, just lets it linger there. Arousal hits your core in times like this, guilt getting harder to swallow with how enticing her touch is, yet her hand doesn't move. Just holds it still as to tell 'this pussy belongs to me' her eyes recite the same story, 'she's mine right? my cunt.'

When she has you naked, fingers in your mound just fingerwarming your wet pussy barely moving and avoiding your clit and leaking hole, only maybe caressing your puffy wet lips if she's feeling generous. Afterall, you were but trouble at times, and she was just giving you a lesson. Patience.

She was doing much more than you deserved, with how ungrateful you were, she was convinced.

But with the way your nails would imprint on her forearms and wrists, her name falling with heavy moans as you whine for your sweet most anticipated release, she'd give in and slide two fingers in, just easily with the way you were creaming all over her palm.

And when your orgasm finally hits, you cry out with so much pent up satisfaction that it would make Ellie hurl. Music to her fucking ears.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Ellie is hardly around people, and if she is, she's stoic and serious. Really not much of a people person, not anymore atleast. The only person she needs is you, anyway. Why would she bother with incompetent fools.

The only time she's around people is when she's out on a deputy, and it doesn't take her long to come back considering she skillfully handles the missions with ease, swift and faithful with the thoughts of you at home. Home. What a foreign concept made possible by you.

But what could be said is, Ellie has an impossible to read Poker-Face. Try as they might, no use. She's a mystery to everyone but you. She shows the real Ellie to you and you only.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Sex. Ellie uses sex both as a gratification and as a punishment. It might sound dubious but really, is the least painful thing she does. Atleast on your end, it makes you feel good even for the shortest of time. Goddamn her and her masterfully talented hands and tongue.

Everytime you cum for her you feel guilty, guilty for feeling good in your situation. Guilty for liking the rape.

Guilty for starting to crave your kidnapper.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She's certainly patient with you, as long as you don't make a fuss, she'll tolerate you quite fine.

Just.. don't try to leave her, that won't end well.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

You're not going anywhere, she's convinced herself that. Atleast not physically. You're binded to her as long as you live. But what if you die. Then what?

Then she dies too, that simple. If you were killed, she'll seek revenge and pull another Abby hunt before she commits. But more violent this time around, the second time losing someone so close, this close, and now she truly has nothing else to lose.

Her death would be quick and smooth with a revolver to her head. Not wasting any time, she wants to see you again. Maybe in an afterlife. Ellie's never been a believer, she never believed in that kind of stuff, but for you she wants to. She hopes to.

With the pull of her trigger she'd go out effortlessly. Her body going limp with a subtle smile on her lips, ready to see you once again.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Regretting kidnapping you? No way in heaven or hell, that was the best thing she'd ever done, the only right thing -she's pretty convinced - she's ever done.

But after every punishment you receive, the smallest resemblance of humanity left in her twinges. Not enough for her to stop or change her ways though. Just an uncomfortable little shiver up her spine.

She's not ever letting you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

All her life, Ellie's been abandoned wether they intended to leave her or not. She'd been left alone for too long, nothing was ever permanent in her life. Every thing and everyone she'd loved and cared for had turned into nothing but a figment of her memories.

... Joel was her breaking point.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She's conflicted when it comes to this, at one hand it turns her on. She can't really explain why. ever heard of a fetish Ellie? But it also hurts her soul to see you suffer like that. And for what?

For you to get used to her that is. If then, she finds no mean in interfering with that. When it comes to that point of denying her so much that you isolate yourself for days, she knows your resolve is about to break soon.

It's just a matter of time before you fully give in.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Definitely the love and admiration she has towards you. She cherishes you so much to the point that, she would not only kill but die for you.

Do what you will with that information.

But she will certainly be hesitant with the self sacrifice route, since she doesn't want to leave you alone. What would you possibly do if she died?

Especially since she made sure to mindbrand you shamelessly.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

This goes without saying but she truly believes there is nothing more serene than having you under her touch, besides wasn't all the hussle she went through just to have you enough to prove it?

And the worship doesn't stop there, not with the murders or the sex. With her devoting everything she is to you, it's only a matter of time for you to get lost and be over consumed by her lust love.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

You're not aware but she'd been watching you left and right for years. Not making a single mistake in her ways or getting caught.

Never thought she would even end up with you at first, but when a night in the bar had you two all over eachother - definitely not because she spiked your drink, it was all for you she says - and fucking like animals all night she asked you on a date and things progressed.

You were completely oblivious to the fact that this was her plan all along. You only thought of her as a faithful encounter, a one night stand turned into your new girlfriend. But Ellie had something completely different in mind.

-

You have no idea how painful it is for her to be away from you, like ever. After Ellie kidnapped you, she still had to work to keep things moving. Which meant being away from home, from you.

Her being away so often left you all alone in the house, resolve broken from the emotional manipulation she'd been doing to you for so long.

In the earlier days of the abduct you had tried to escape, multiple times. But after some time -and a lot of abuse- you'd became completely dependent on her. The plan she had worked wonders, breaking your resolve and keeping you all to herself till the end of days.

Now you just wait for her arrival like a loyal little puppy. Stockholm syndrome so strong that you feel stressed and anxious when she's not around.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Her poor little innocent angel, you don't know any better now, do you? It breaks Ellie's heart to see you hurt, see you so out of it and shattered, but it had to be done.

When she first took you in and you rejected to eat or drink anything, let alone spare her a glance, it became the only option. Had to have you one way or another. Either you'd eventually submit to your new life or she'd have to get you get used to it.

Has to have you to the point of no return in which you feel the constance of time breathing down your neck everytime you're not with Ellie, not under her touch, not near her warmth. Craving her like some drug. Completely dependent on her to feel something, anything.

Then again, she'd much rather not have you go through a single bad experience with her, -that's what she promised, yet..- unless you really push it she'd be as gentle as the night sky.

Just be her sweet escape, the darling she can come back home to, her beloved. It's about time you get used to it by now.

[paperibbon]

smokey day

feysand x reader sum.: hazy early mornings with your two mates note: 18+ this is truly pwop.... a brief allusion to rhysand's SA but only brief and rlly an allusion but just thought i'd mention. this is a little treat bc i was gone for so effing long (2 months). this isn't the ink universe! totally diff "reader"

Traces of sunlight peak through the heavy velvet curtains, and a streak casts itself across your closed eyes. It’s morning, you’re sure of that, and you’ve slept well; fingers flitting across indents of fabric across your cheeks can attest. A small noise pulls itself from your chest as you adjust your body.

It's a slow pace you’re setting, neither of you truly chasing any fast and swift end, just simply rocking into each other in the early morning light. Rhys is deep inside you, a heavy heat that you can’t exactly ignore, and you doubt you’d want to. His lips are insistent anywhere he can reach, against your throat, in the divot between your jaw and your ear, over your heart, dotted across your cheeks as he rolls his hips deeper into you.

“Too early.” Rhys’s voice is a rumble, vibrating down your spine and curling like a languid cat in your gut. 

“You don’t know that.” You whisper into the morning air. Feyre’s still slumbering soundly, heavy puffs of air escaping her lips as she dreams, a pleasant smile playing on her face. You almost can’t take her beauty, the slope of her nose, the blush of her cheeks, the freckle by her mouth you can’t help but wish to lean forward and kiss her. Rhysand rumbles with soft laughter at the display of affection playing through your mind, kissing your shoulder once, twice. Your brain is hazy, your movements soft and smokey with the fog of sleep still clinging to the edges of you.

“I know everything.” His hands dip lower, cupping the roundness of your hip as his mouth grows more insistent, teeth scraping at the slope of your throat.

“Oh, do you?” It’s breathy, it’s all breathy. He feels insane, hands everywhere, thumb swiping over your chest, pinching at the peaked bud, his lips pressed to the notch where your neck connects to your shoulder.

Rhys’s dark answering ‘Mhm.’ sends chills down your back, and you gasp into the room as his teeth delve into your skin. With fluttering eyes, you push Rhysand back from you, blinking down at the picture he makes. His violet eyes are dark, familiar stars dotting his vision and winking up at you as he rakes them over your form. Your mate’s hair is rustled with sleep, spilling over his eyes and curling at his neck with the hazy heat of the room, dark and inky as the night sky, and in deep comparison with the peek of his teeth behind the lazy smirk that’s spread over his mouth. His tan chest is glistening with a sheen of sweat like moonlight, and when he catches your gaze, the muscles flex playfully. 

“Like what you see?” His voice is lilting, teasing. 

“Same question.” You cock your head with the false challenge, rolling your hips down forcefully. It pulls out a groan from him, his hands flexing, pressing into the skin of your hips.

Perfect. You hadn’t even felt him slip into your mind, but the shadowy presence fills the shape you’ve carved out for him almost completely, sharp claws teasingly tracing against your consciousness. It sends your eyes rolling back into your skull, his laughter dark, spilling across you like sticky molasses.

Without a word, he’s sitting up again, hand snaking around the back of your neck to press his lips to yours. You try to protest, swatting at his chest, sure he can taste the morning breath that lingers against your tongue, but Rhys just smirks, tracing the indents of your teeth with his own tongue. The kiss is languid, lazy, sleepy even, a sloppy press of mouths against each other with bleary eyes and a sticky warm room. With a deft buck of his strong hips, you let a long, high pitched whine trickle from your lips.

“Feels good, huh?” It’s a cocky, challenging comment, and you know he’s waiting for you to pitch something back at him like you have been, give as good as you’re getting, but at the moment you can’t find it in you, absorbed finally in the feeling. Your legs are shaky and trembling, so you’ve resorted to simply circling your hips against him, letting his length hit that wonderful spot he always seems to find. The sun is rising higher, the molten light casting the room in shiny gold. Rhys is beautiful, you decide, brows pinching together in pleasure as you look at him. The light makes him almost glow, dark skin rippling beneath the surface as he meets your meager thrusts with powerful ones of his own. He seems to be settling on a similar thought pattern, eyes soft with fondness. “Mother above, you’re so beautiful.”

“I agree.” Feyre’s voice jolts through you like fire, and you tilt your head to catch her sea blue eyes blinking blearily up at you with a petal-fine smile spread across her lips. You smile back, your spine attempting to bend in sick ways to bring yourself closer to her. With a laugh, she props herself up, allowing her lip to meet yours in a brief, but lovely kiss all the same.

“Welcome to the waking world, Feyre darling.” Rhys captures her hand in his, pressing it to his lips once, twice, three times without breaking any concentration in regards to you, little whines eking past your parted lips, sighs filling out the room with ease.

Feyre’s deft fingers drift from Rhys’s hand, pushing him back into the pillows, and you can feel the tension solidify. The look in Rhys’s eyes flickers, stars almost bursting with light as he tucks an arm under his head, bicep flexing, sharp jaw clenching as your other mate positions herself behind you, chin hooking over your shoulder and hand tracing across the soft skin of your inner thighs, letting her nails bite ever so slightly into your skin. You’re almost trembling for her touch, hips jolting in place in an attempt to coax her where you need her, and she laughs; a mean, sensual sound that pulls another eager sound from you.

“Ask nicely, sweet love.” Her words are whispered into your ear, lips brushing against your skin with every word. She’s everywhere now, both hands coasting over you with a feather-light touch, her mind pressing into yours with a familiar breezy feeling. You can feel her breathing against your back, feel her warm cheek in the very same crook of your neck Rhys had lavished with attention just a few minutes ago. She laughs lightly when your mind makes the connection, and she closes her lips around a spot and makes sure to leave a mark.

“Please.” It’s whiney, desperate, debauched. The room is muggy, humid, and you could almost slip away into it for the day, spending it with your mates just like this, Rhysand and Feyre, the High Lord and Lady of the terrible, fearsome Night Court with all their softened edges and loving caresses. 

Feyre’s fingers trail up from your thighs, hands warm and nails leaving little lines in their wake as she finally places them exactly where you need them. She presses down, circling widely against your clit, and a moan rips itself from you, and subsequently, from Rhysand as you tighten around him without much warning.

“Mother, you’re tight.” He whispers, almost absentmindedly and it’s utterly vulgar. A groan like an avalanche, like a thunderclap fills the room and Feyre laughs against your neck at him, her teeth nipping once again into your skin. You find a free hand threading into her golden hair, pressing her closer, closer, closer to you, until you aren’t really sure where she ends and you begin, her soft skin flushed with heat, red and pink and precious like the flowers sitting on your bedside table.

“Look at how fucked he is.” Pink lips whisper into your ear, your back arched perfectly beneath her hands. The lazy pattern you’d all shared has been forgotten, Rhysand’s hips pressing into you with abandon, Feyre’s deft fingers meeting his rhythm in tight little circles, pulling frequent sighs and pretty moans out of you, ones that she can’t help but play in her mind on a loop. Your head falls back onto her shoulders with a particularly swift thrust from your mate below you, and Feyre laughs again, syrupy and sweet and you can’t help but drown in it.

Rhysand truly does look fucked, a sinful smile playing at his lips, inky hair thoroughly mussed and slick against his forehead. You’re sure you look worse, heat coursing through you like a wildfire, flickering flames eating away at your insides, cheeks sure to be ruddy and sweat sticking your hair everywhere it hangs loose.

You look beautiful. Feyre’s a whisper in your consciousness, a cool breeze, a wave lapping at your shoreline. She pushes forth a mental image laden with her lust, fixated frames of your lips parted in pleasure, your chest flushed and heaving, the valley between your thighs, Rhysand tucked in between them. From the feelings she fills your mind with alone, you’re overwhelmed, not mentioning the feeling of her fingers against you, now drifting to encircle the spread of you over Rhys, a firm squeeze of her hand.

“Oh, fuck.” You gasp wetly, letting her hand slick with you return to her place as you all but topple forward with the answering thrust she’s met with. Now, she’s still, simply setting her palm against your heat, mouth brushing against the column of your neck yet again.

Rhysand catches you as you careen towards him, sitting up from his position and fixing your legs tightly around his midsection, forcing the hand between your thighs out of its temporary position. You’re much closer, much more in each other's orbit now, rather than lazily joining in a sleepy performance of your desires. His hand, strong and sure, cups the back of your neck, eyes scanning your face for any sort of discomfort. It’s twisted up, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed, tears dotting the corners of your eyes. The question doesn’t even need to be whispered into the air, doesn’t need to be pushed into your mind; you can tell from the downturn of his lips, the way your other mate twines her fingers into yours, lays her head on your shoulder. The bond between you all is alight with more than just shared lust, more than passion; you feel the love like a warmth blossoming inside you. You feel the love like it’s always been there.

“I just really want to come.” Your voice breaks pitifully, sniffling softly. 

The serious moment shatters like ice as Rhysand snorts at the picture you’re sure you make; teary eyed, sweaty, and all his. Well, all his and all Feyre’s. 

“We can arrange that.” He answers with a chuckle, voice like the roots of a tree, like the rolling of clouds across the sun. In a second, you’re on your back against the pillows, propped up like a royal, with a god and goddess to do bidding with the flick of your hand. 

Rhysand enters you again with a slowness, teasing that whooshes a breath you didn’t know you were holding out all at once. Feyre is providing quite the show, chin hooked over his shoulder to peer at your joining. She’s a beauty in the light of the morning, hair shining like spun gold. Her sapphire gaze twinkles, a soft glow across her skin puts her in contrast with the tan male she’s slung over. 

Rhys curses as he sets a rhythm again, hooking your leg up and over his arm as he drives into you. It’s ecstasy, bliss, all wrapped up into this moment. Your eyebrows furrow again, letting out a whine that you’re sure could wake the whole of Velaris.

“Yeah?” He’s as cock-sure as the day is long, the teasing lilt of his voice could almost make you groan, but he’s cock-sure for a good reason. “Is that all you needed, pretty heart? A good fuck?”

When you nod, they both share a laugh, mocking and sweet at the same time, and a lesser version of you would be embarrassed at the depravity you gain from it. This version of you, this loved and fucked version of you is clawing for more, whining and moaning and weakly raising yourself to meet Rhysand as his thrusts become that much more sure, more pointed.

“So pretty, love. So, so beautiful for us.” Feyre is all honeyed, sultry words, but you can feel the bite of want from her, the sting of lust that comes through her bond. Rhys can surely feel it too, because he’s reeling back, hungry mouth meeting hers in a battle of lips and tongue. She almost melts into his mouth, hand coming to cradle his cheek and you sigh, a smile finding its way to your face. They’re beautiful together, one of Feyre’s paintings come to life in swirls of color and feeling. The two give and take like the Mother made them for it, made them to be each others.

She made you, too. Rhys is again smokey in your head. All for us.

As your lovers turn their attention to you, Rhys’s thumb pressing into your clit, Feyre’s warm gaze, and eventual hands coming to caress you into finishing, you can’t help but feel lucky for this life, this love. You and Rhysand finish within moments of each other, dirty words and promises chasing the high, and Feyre has you both between her thighs until she’s come twice, and you’ve come once more from Rhysand’s wandering hands. In the sun baked afterglow, your head heavy on Feyre’s stomach, her nails working delicately through your hair, you reach for the mating bond, the golden tether holding the three of you so tightly together. It flows through you like a river of heat, from the top of your head to your toes. There’s no feeling being projected down the channels other than sweet, true, and utter love.

[metal-mouse]

Kinktober Week One

Pair: Kakashi Hatake x GN!Reader (M/GN Pairing)

Themes: Smut. Kinktober Week One: blowjob + semi-public sex.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. Smut. Oral sex.

Summary: 1k-ish. Paperwork is just so boring. You take pity on poor Kakashi, slipping under his desk to help make the Hokage's day a little more interesting.

Note: Surprise! I very impulsively decided to do something fun for Kinktober. I have five cheeky little one-shots lined up that will drop every Friday + Halloween. They will all be anime themed, because the brain rot is real rn. Week Two: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader.

Kakashi’s fist clenched around the pen in his hand as he tried to focus on the papers strewn across his desk. It was pretty fucking hard, with the way your lips were wrapped around the head of his cock. His gaze flicked over to the door of his office, woefully unlocked. There was a little thrill that went down his spine at the thought of someone walking in. It was risky, having you on your knees under his desk, yet when you had come in offering to make doing paperwork more entertaining… he’d been too intrigued to say no. 

His free hand dropped to your head as your tongue teased the bottom of his tip, his jaw clenching as he held in a groan. Teasing little… He gently pushed down on the back of your head, ignoring your little sound of surprise as his length slid into your warm mouth. His eyes rolled back for a moment, before he glanced over at the door again as footsteps drew close. The pen in his hand started to creak as your nose bumped into his lower belly, and his cock hit the back of your throat. He had to drop the pen, not wanting to snap it and get ink everywhere. 

Fuck. Kakashi tried to make himself look busy with his papers, one hand still on the back of your head encouraging your every move. Up and down the entire length of his cock, he had to fight the urge to look down to watch himself disappear into your mouth. Beneath his mask, his face was burning. He bit down on his bottom lip as soft, wet sounds came from under the desk. Should’ve played some music. Too late now. 

His eyes widened and his thighs tensed up as your cheeks hollowed and you started to suck him in more and more. It was too much, it was too good. Damn it! His hips pushed up, and he roughly pushed your head down. He was panting - no way to play it off if anyone walked in now - as he fucked your face. His inhibitions abandoned, all he could do now was try to stay fucking quiet. 

“Ngh–” Kakashi stifled a groan as best as he could, the vulgar sounds of you choking on his cock were like music to his ears. It paired so nicely with your warm, wet mouth that had him on cloud nine. Your nose bumped into him, your head bobbing so enthusiastically as he pushed his hips up over and over. He exhaled sharply as your fingers dug into his thighs, pressure building up in his core as you massaged his thighs. When you began to palm at his balls, Kakashi’s free hand grasped the edge of his desk to try and ground himself. 

His senses were honed in on you entirely, at this point Tsunade could barge in and start yelling at him and he wouldn’t notice anything but that pretty mouth wrapped around his cock. His eyes trained on you, “Look up at me.” He growled out, watching as you looked up at him through your lashes while he fucked your face. That hazy look in your eyes, the way you did your best to breathe through your nose, you looked so damn good… If he had any faith in your ability to keep your mouth shut, he’d bend you over his desk and fuck you senseless.

Later, he’d have time for that later. For now, he felt your tongue pushing up against the underside of his cock and his back arched as his hips pushed forward. Your warm hand massaged his tightening balls, and Kakashi swore he was seeing stars from the way your cheeks hollowed out as you tried to suck his soul out through his dick. 

“Shit… Just like that.” His voice was low, vaguely aware of the busy hallway on the other side of his office door. His mouth fell open, Kakashi’s breath being taken away. He reached up, pulling down his mask desperate for some clean air with how hot his mask was getting. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted. You were relentless, and he loved the way your eyes narrowed slightly in delight at the effect you had on him. 

His toes curled as his cock and balls pulsed with imminent ecstasy, his hands flying to the arms of his chair. Kakashi squeezed, the wood groaning from his grip. His back arched and his hips lifted him up off the chair as he mindlessly thrust into your mouth while you had no choice but to hang on to his thighs to stabilize yourself. Kakashi’s eyes squeezed shut as the tension in his body snapped, his cock throbbing as he exploded in orgasm. Ragged breaths and low grunts spilled from his lips, low enough not to draw attention. 

While he came, you didn’t relent. Swallowing down every last drop, your tongue massaged the underside of his length and your head bobbed back and forth even as Kakashi’s thrusts faltered. As you drew out his pleasure, it took everything in him to keep from whimpering. As he squirmed, letting out a little shuddering breath, you finally lifted your head and freed him from your intense stimulation. 

You should not have that effect on him, Kakashi decided. He was the Hokage - the damn Copy Ninja. He was meant to be aloof, cool as a cucumber, not a complete puddle under your touch. Not making soft eyes at you and exposing his face to you as you delicately wiped the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand. Yet, here he was, knowing he’d do it all again. Already, he was plotting the way he’d get back at you for distracting him from his work - preferably in the privacy of your own home - where he could repay the favour tenfold. Yes, he’ll do it again. You had made good on your promise, his day had certainly been far more interesting than just doing paperwork - although not much work had been done. 

That seemed like a problem for tomorrow Kakashi. For now, he put himself back together. He wasn’t quite finished with you yet - not at all - and he loved the smile that spread on your lips when you realized precisely that. Paperwork and Hokage duties could wait, Kakashi’s needs couldn’t. It was going to be a long night.

[hpdmguy]

ways they show each other love !

loads of rambles + clutter-less version below the cut

the yellow lines highlighting things is actually marking (almost) everywhere they touch since the primary theme of this piece is physical affection! the stars were just for fun

top left (kissing): pretty self explanatory! fun fact, it was the first thing i drew for this piece :)

top middle (hand on back): i was trying to sleep the other night and my brain suddenly went. drarry physical affection and that was the first thing i pictured! i kind of imagined this one as like... dracos stressed or something and harry just puts a nice comforting hand on his back

top right: the good ol pinkie hand hold,, link, ,think. yeah. no real thoughts behind this one. it fit the box and its cute

middle left (speech bubbles): one thing i see a lot (im pretty sure this is ((implied in)) canon as well, but dracos a big yapper! so its kinda showing here that harrys just listening to all hes got to say. probably my favourite one of the lot, i had fun rendering it. (looking at this post i too am a yapper)

middle (orange slices): theres this thing where you peel an orange for the people you love. you can look at it either way; draco providing food for harry, knowing his childhood food insecurity and always wanting to make sure he has something, or harry (whose love language is acts of service) giving something to draco, maybe after a long day

watermarked middle (draco constellation): just some fun symbolism i thought i might try to fit in

middle right (legs): in this theyre just chilling. dracos reading (the book didnt come across well ((i cant draw hands very well)).

right edge (flowers): these are narcissus flowers, also known as daffodils. a reference to narcissa malfoy, and also a reference i suppose to how she saved harry in the forest, because draco was alive, because harry saved him in the room of requirement

bottom left edge (flowers): these are lilies. partly to complete the circle of mothers saving sons saving the world, and partly because i wanted to fill space. (theyre fucking terrible to draw tho i do not recommend)

bottom left (hand in hair): well harrys hair is very luxurious as you can see and i imagine during cuddles draco cards his hand through it and teases out snarls and such. (i know hair pulling is something that can be seen as sexual, this isnt that and it isnt meant to be that and please dont see it as that :(

bottom watermark (stag): harrys patronus because why not

bottom middle: so this is a bit obscure but theres this post by @/iamnmbr3 that talks about a headcanon that they can share wands and its kind of special and intimate. so thats what ive depicted here. also for funsies harry has the draco constellation on his arm. not the big dipper. also i cant draw the dark mark for shit

bottom right (shoes): just a subtle way they can touch, not always big. just under the table or sitting on the sofa together, just to feel the other person there.

i knew i wanted a warm scheme and i knew i wanted orange and blue to play a big part in this. i was going to have warm colours on blue and cool colours on orange as a sort of contrast but that didnt end up working out.. the wand scene is an attempt at it except i mixed it up and made it cool on cool, its so washed out and i didnt bother to fix it

[ayeyolooo]

DRIFT

PLEASE READ THE WARNING BEFOFE INTERACTING WITH THE STORY!

Warning! Y/n is black!! I write for black readers if you didn’t know already. But anyone can feel free to read this! Connie and eren are Hispanic, and me not knowing how to speak Spanish like at alll unfortunately I have to use the translator💔. Please bare with with y’all😭. There will be an oc :) oh and please excuse my grammatical errors! <3

“Y/n will you be able to come to this race? Cause we don’t have a fourth.” Your friend begged you over the phone. “Kasa, you know ion race no more like that.” You said laying your edges down. Even though you were saying all of this, you were getting ready so that you could race.

“But y/n please please please please.” You just sighed. “Fine.” You said with a giggle. “Yayy omg when you come I’m going to literally kiss you everywhere.” She said as wind blew having the phone make noise on mikasa’z end. “Okay just call me when you get here y/n.” Mikasa said before handing up. You just sighed as you grabbed your purse and walked out the house. You checked and made sure that you had your cash on you cause you had to pay to enter a race.

You unlocked the door and walked up to your purple sports car. It was a little on the older side but that’s what made it unique and exciting. You dragged your hand across the door as you opened it and sat down in the car. You began to pray before you drove off and to the race site.

“Whew.” You sighed before pulling up. When you pulled up no one could see who you were due to your tents being dark. Your engine roared catching the attention of the other racers. Mikasa turned around quickly knowing that you were there because she knew the sound of your car. She and Sasha squealed and jumped up and down with eachother before walking over to your car.

“Kasa who is that?” Jean asked as mikasa opened your door. “One of my friends what will be the fourth today.” She simply said with a large smile on her face.

“Se van a avergonzar.” Connie said with a snort. You just smiled and ran your tongue across your teeth. Eren, ony, and armin all just laughed.

They’re going to embarrass themselves.

“Would you like to show them whose driving?” Mikasa said as she leaned over your car. “Nahhh.” You said shaking your head and smiling revealing your smiley piercing. “Okay we’ll good luck y/n.” Mikasa said taking the was of cash from your hands and pecking your cheek. She closed your door back and walked over to the boys to collect their money too.

“Bru he driving that girl ahh car. How they gone win?” Connie cackled. “Choke.” Mikasa said before taking his money. “When we beat them mikasa you gone have to give us our money back plus $1,000.” Mikasa shrugged. “Mmhm yeah that’s if y’all win.” She said nonchalantly. “Whatchu mean by that?” Mikasa just shrugged.

“When she beat y’all don’t come crying to me,cause y’all was doing all of that talking.” Mikasa shrugged and walked back to the little booth. “SHE!?” All of the boys asked in confusion. They all looked over to your car trying to get s glimpse of how you looked hut couldn’t due to your tents. “READY!” Your adrenaline began to pump. You forgot how good it felt when you were about to race.” You pressed your foot on the gas reviving your engine. You turned on your radio having TBH by party next door come to and end and welcome to the party, by party next door started playing.

The bass from the music blasted in your speakers having your seat vibrate and you just smiled at this exciting moment.

You smiled at the sounds of the other cars. “SET!” You rolled your windows down as you just kept your focus on the road ahead of you. You felt eyes starring at you on the right side of your face. They seen your beautiful brown skin and your red lace wig that complimented your skin.

“GO!” Everyone took off. You turned your music up loud as you smoothly drove past three cars. You were in second place, being that the one with E.Y on the back of his car was in the front. Hm..

There was a turn incoming you stepped on the break and grabbed the clutch having a smooth drift. Due to eren having a slight mess up you flew infront of him. You went around the track two more times before crossing the finish line, having eren after you, and ony after.

You just got out leaning on your car waiting for everyone to finish. Mikasa walked up to you and the both of you smiled and she squealed. “You did yo shit once and againnnnn.” Mikasa said as the both of you laughed. “Yk I had to show out for my gurl.” You said winking at her.

This was sitting in my drafts for a while 💀. Anyways Jesus loves you ml <3

[feyreswaterybowels]

⭒The Silent One⭒

#2 Azriel x Fem!OC

⭒Part 1⭒Part 2⭒Part 3⭒Part 4⭒

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Cassandra decides to join the IC for dinner. Things feel weird and wrong but also…safe and comfortable. She opens up to them about her past traumas and gets to know more about them.

Warnings/Tags: mentions physical and visual sexual abuse in the recent past. describes physical violence. trauma. mute character. slow burn. protective!azriel. protective!IC.

Authors Note: All reblogs, likes and comments are welcome, appreciated and encouraged! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next part! Regular italics are inter thoughts while bold italics are her communicating with other people mentally.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“Relax,” Nuala cooed as she helped Cassandra ease into the large bath, warm and floral scented.

Cassandra had never been in a bath like this. Only one suited for regular fae without wings. They had been cramped and uncomfortable and nearly impossible to bathe everywhere without hurting a wing. But this bath? It was huge and could easily fit multiple people with and without wings. It stretched all the way to one of those glassless windows where the water spilled over in a soothing stream.

She leaned back when Nuala prompted, letting her wings float in the water. It was so nice the way they felt so weightless. Nuala tilted her head back and their eyes met as she cupped her hands with water and poured it over Cassandra’s white hair. She lathered it with a nice smelling soap, massaging at her scalp.

It was difficult to lay there and relax while someone else washed her hair. It reminded her of the mistress, how when she bathed her and washed her hair it was rushed and rough and…and when she washed her hair like this she would sometimes push her head under the water and hold her there—

Cassandra bolted up with a gasp, hands coming up to wipe away the water that fell down from her hair and over her face, chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. She whirled around, wide eyes catching Nuala’s, trying to desperately apologize for what she had done. The female just shook her head gently.

“It’s okay,” She said, “would you like to be left alone for a moment?”

Cassandra considered this, she both wanted to be alone and have someone else around. But she nods her head. Cerridwen walked in then, a stack of something in her hand.

“Clothes for you,” she said, sitting the stack on a shelf across the room. “We will be back but if you finish with your bath and wish to dress before we return the clothes will be here.”

Cassandra nods. She doesn’t know what else to do, but the females seem to understand, offering her small nods in return before leaving the room—the heavy door closing as they leave the bedroom the bedroom.

She sinks down in the water once she’s sure she’s alone. So much has changed in such a short time and she’s still not sure if this is all real. These people…they could change any moment. Drag her from this huge room and throw her into a prison cell and use her for whatever they pleased.

Turning in the water she pushed herself towards the other end of the tub, the one that waterfalls over the edge. What she sees there takes her breath away, an audible gasp leaving her lips.

The first thing she notices is all the lights, it looked exactly like the painting she saw with Morrigan. There was so much to look at. But what she really wanted to see was the beautiful sight above that. The night sky. The thousands of stars twinkling above, surrounding a bright moon.

She could have cried looking at the sight. But not because she felt sad, she felt safe. Comfortable. Content. Like this was where she was meant to be.

Eventually she did get out of the bath, drying herself off with the fluffy white towel that was unnaturally warm. She stopped in front of the mirror, surprised at her own reflection. She looked so different from the last time she actually saw herself. Her skin that was once a golden caramel color was lighter and ashen, dark circles under her green eyes. Her white hair slicked back with water was thinner than when it used to fall in thick ringlets as a girl. Her rib cage and hip bones protruding in a way they always had but wished they hadn’t. She had wanted a thicker, fuller body like the girls she saw at the pleasure houses. A strong body like her mothers used to be. A body that could hold up her wings and maybe one day…fly.

She had gotten dressed before Nuala and Cerridwen returned. The clothes weren’t like anything she’d ever worn before. Cream colored pants that were lined with a fuzzy material that was softer than anything she’d ever worn before. The top was a matching cream, flowy top with sleeves that stopped at her elbows and buttoned up the back to accommodate her wings. The shoes were white, flat and slipped on her feet easily.

She chose not to attend dinner that night. She wasn’t sure she could stomach any food. The twins looked disappointed. Her decision had been made to gauge how she would be treated if she didn’t have dinner with this high lord male.

She didn’t leave her room the following day either.

Or the day after that.

No one bothered her. No one came to drag her from the room kicking and screaming. No one beat on the door or called her horrible names. No one held her down or forced the food into her mouth. In fact no one except Nuala and Cerridwen came to her room at all.

And when they came they would bring a small tray of food, she only ever drank the tea and ate the biscuit and left everything else. She didn’t want to take too much before knowing if she was expected to do something in return.

When she finally felt safe enough she agreed to dinner on her fourth night. Nuala bathed her again. She couldn’t help the panic that overcame her once again as the female washed her hair but she cooed at her, soothingly before getting up and leaving her to finish alone as she had the first night.

Cerridwen took on fixing her hair, drying and styling it into waves that fell over her shoulders. Once she was done and dressed Nuala put a cream on her face and spritzed her with something that smelled sweet.

When they were done she felt like a different person. She felt clean. Comfortable. Alive.

There wasn’t much time to dwell on her feelings of finally leaving the room before Nuala and Cerridwen pulled her up and escorted her down the maze of hallways.

“Just two doors down, you’ll find the dining room,” Cerridwen pointed down the hall with a small smile. Cassandra wanted to ask why they weren’t also joining but when she turned to face them they were just gone as if they disappeared into thin air.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

Walking into the dining room was a weird feeling. Cassandra didn’t feel like she belonged there. In the fancy room, with a huge table filled with foods…foods she had never seen before. The four people she had met three days ago—and another she hadn’t met, all sat around the table talking in hushed whispers.

Azriel was the first to look over. His eyes met hers and offered her a small smile. “Cassandra,” his deep voice greeted.

“I’m glad you decided to join us this evening, please come sit,” Rhysand said, standing and motioning to the empty seat next to him, where Azriel would be on her other side—Morrigan in front of her and Cassian next to her. The other female at the opposite end of the table from Rhysand.

Cassandra hesitated for only a moment before walking over and realizing that the chair was designed to accommodate wings. She wouldn’t have to sit at some weird angle to be comfortable. Her eyes meet Azriel’s, the gentle look on his face a comfort she needed. He stood from his spot, sliding the chair out and gesturing for her to sit.

She felt eyes on her as she scanned all of the food in front of her. She had never seen so much food.

“I trust everything went okay the last few days?” Rhysand asked as he took his own seat once again.

“I freaked out a little when Nuala was washing my hair…” Cassandra admitted, shoulders hunching in embarrassment.

“That’s okay, no need to be upset. You’ve been through a lot, it’s expected. Nuala and Cerridwen are understanding and won’t hold it against you. You have my word on that.”

She wanted to say thank you again but didn’t feel it was appropriate. She didn’t know what else to say so she nodded her head and looked towards that other female, freezing as she looked into glowing silver eyes. She had never seen anything so…beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

A snort to her side caught her attention and she looked at Rhysand.

“Sorry, I just heard that,” Rhysand said, Cassandra’s eyebrows pulled together before realization dawned on her. The comment about the other female… “Amren.” Rhys supply’s the name.

She looks back to the female, to those eyes that make her not want to look away.

“Hello, girl,” She greets, and it’s not a terrifying rumble, but a genuine greeting.

Cassandra offers a small smile, feeling a draw to the small female. No one else spoke so she reached for a plate but before her fingers could even graze it, it filled with food before her eyes. She blinked at it in shock, looking to Rhysand to see if he had done it.

There was a small smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“The house is enchanted, it does what it pleases. You wanted food so it filled your plate for you,” Azriel spoke, she looked over at him then back at the plate.

Oh, wow. She thought…the food had even been diced into smaller pieces as she had told Rhysand. Her eyes fell on the wine glass in front of her—she wouldn’t drink it, couldn’t, so she looked at Azriel again then around the room. Water. And just like that, a glass of water appeared in front of her.

Cassandra felt the corners of her mouth twitch up, eyes meeting Azriel’s again then Rhysands before she grabbed the glass of water.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

“It’s pretty awesome, right?” Cassian spoke, his long hair that had been pulled back earlier now fell to his shoulders.

Cassandra nodded in answer, sitting her glass back on the table. Rhys took his seat, grabbing his wine glass, silently observing the female as she reached for her fork.

“I’ve never had this much food before…”

Rhys isn’t surprised but he’s not expecting the words and they make his heart hurt.

“Eat as much as you’d like,” Rhys says warmly, watching as she scoops up some warm potatoes and brings them to her lips.

“Mm” she hums, eyes closing. “That’s so good!” Rhys doesn’t answer, he can tell she’s not speaking to him consciously, she’s just thinking, not a single mental shield to protect her fragile mind.

It’s the next bite that wipes the small mine from all the faces. No longer an exploratory bite but a ravenous one. One after another, eating quickly and without restraint. Eating in a way that meant she had been starving, had never had an adequate food supply, had never been allowed to eat more than what was given.

She didn’t speak and neither did they. None of them would tell her to stop or slow down, all having been there at some point in their lives. They had all known that hunger at one point or another. So they let her eat. And drink. And eat some more.

Potatoes. Greens. Fruit. Meat. Bread. A plate appeared next to her holding a slice of cake and she ate that too—she had never had cake before but no one else at the table knew that.

It’s only when her plate is empty that anyone speaks up. It’s Cassian that asks, “How do you feel you’re settling in?” It’s an attempt to bring about a conversation without making her uncomfortable.

Cassandra takes a slow sip of water, breathing deeply as she does before looking at Rhysand who nods in confirmation that he’ll give her answer.

“Honestly…I feel more comfortable here than I have ever felt anywhere else.”

“That’s wonderful! We want you to be as comfortable as possible,” Morrigan chimes in, excited as if she’d been waiting to talk to Cassandra for the past three days. “When we didn’t see you for three days we were worried—well I was. The boys wanted to give you some space.”

“I didn’t know what was expected of me,” she says, Rhysand repeats her and she’s met with confused frowns. “That’s why I stayed away, didn’t eat much. I didn’t know if anything would be…expected of me in return if I did.”

“You have no debt to us, Cassandra. Nothing is expected of you,” Rhysand speaks, his voice firm but gentle. “If you wish to come to dinner you eat your fill until you’re satisfied. If you need clothes you wear what you like and it’s yours to keep. Nothing will ever be taken or held against you as punishment of any kind.”

Cassandra blinks at him, feels the wetness in her eyes as she nods. There’s just one nagging question in her mind, one she needs an answer to before she gets too comfortable.

“Why am I here then?” She asks, setting her fork down on a freshly filled plate, half as full as before.

Rhysand lets out a sigh before telling the others what she’d asked.

“You are here because I received word from one of Azriel’s spies—I’ll give you a more in depth explanation on what that means at another time—that pleasure houses in my court were buying and selling females against their will,” Rhysand begins to explain. “See we have many pleasure houses in Velaris but it has always been law that consent is the main requirement for anyone involved. Those who work or visit have to be there because they want to be there.”

“So, when we got word this law had been broken, Rhys sent us out to patrol the pleasure houses,” Azriel said, drawing her attention to him, “he needed solid proof of the law being broken before he could step in. Cassian and I, we saw you there. Scared. Frightened. Clearly not there of your own free will and didn’t feel it was safe for you to stay there.”

Cassandra looked at him, taking in the shadows swirling around him. His kind hazel eyes, the blue siphons glowing on his scarred hands. Remembered how when her eyes first landed on him on the other side of those bars she had been absolutely terrified of him.

“What about the…Mistress?” She asked turning away from Azriel to look at Rhysand.

“You no longer have to call her mistress, her name is Kamari. She is still here in our cells, she’s not been harmed. We are working to gather some intel from her. Who her bosses are, where they are buying the females and any other information we can get from her. She’s been cooperative in giving us the information we need to stop this from happening to any other females,” Rhysand said, eying the female in front of him before looking to his second in command.

“Do you have any information that may help us, girl? Anything we could use against that female to get more information?” Amren asks, fixing her smoky eyes on the female.

Cassandra was quiet for a moment, thinking. Trying to piece together everything she could remember. She looks up and nods her head. Everyone seemed to sit a little straighter, their full attention on her alone.

“My father is the one who sold me to a male named Vale. Blue skin, a long deep scar across his face, black eyes…mean and very strong—”

Rhysand hold his hand up, relaying the information to Azriel and you watch curiously as one of his shadows darts away and out of a window.

“Cassandra, do you mind if I open up a channel for everyone to hear what you say to me? It will help us find these people,” Rhysand asks, she doesn’t need to think before she nodded. She wanted to help in any way she could. Help any girls going through what she did and stopping more from going through it.

“Please, continue,” Rhysand encouraged.

“The male, Vale, had bought other females. He kept me me in a dark room under his home with three other females. He—he raped one of the girls many time but not me or the other two girls. He said he would get more money for us if we stayed…untouched.” Cassandra’s stomach rolled at the memories. Nauseated, remembering the cries of that poor girl every time that man came down stairs and hurt her. She could see the anger in the eyes that surrounded her, could practically feel it radiating from them. Their fists and jaws clenched tightly, wings rigid and shoulders taunt. But she continued.

“I stayed there for a few months before he took me to that…pleasure house? I’m not sure what happened to the other girls. I think he may have kept the one he raped.”

“Do you know their names?” Cassian asks and she’s nods. How could she ever forget them?

“Seera, Juno and Neema. I believe Seera and Juno were sister but I’m not completely sure. We tried not to talk too much because it made the male very angry,” She took a deep breath, trying not to remember the time he had nearly crushed her throat for merely asking to use the bathroom.

Unbeknownst to her she had sent that mental image to them who were seething with anger at what this poor girl had gone through.

“Once I was at that place I was introduced to Miss—I was introduced to Kamari,” She continued, needing to get away from the memories of that male. “She was in charge of my training. She stripped me naked, told me I would never own a pair of clothes again. That I was to be naked and ready for any male to take me whenever they pleased. I was to learn things that would…please these males. Anytime I refused I was beaten. So, for months I watched other females pleasure males in many ways. But only watched. They said—she said I would be sold for a lot of money for being untouched. That whoever paid the most could do whatever they wanted to me. When I saw the two of you I thought—” She swallowed thickly eyes shooting between Azriel and Cassian. “I though you were going to—”

Her voice cracks and she looks away. Morrigan pushes out of her chair, walking around the table. “Can I hug you?” She asks.

All Cassandra can do is nod letting Morrigan wrap strong arms around her. Hugging her tightly. Holding her in a way that reminded her of her mother before she died. After a moment Morrigan pulls away offering a napkin to wipe her eyes.

“Cassandra, dear, we can be done for today if it’s too much to continue,” Rhysand offers gently.

She nods gently, feeling as if maybe she wasn’t much help at all. The rest of dinner is spent in silence, Cassandra hunched into herself while the other four fae think about killing everyone who hurt this innocent girl and many more.

⋆ ݁⟡ ݁☾ ݁⟡ ݁⋆

It’s later that evening when Cassandra slips from her room. The stone floor is cold under her feet and the satin nightgown doesn’t do much to keep the cold from her skin so she tucks her wings around her body.

She makes her way to the roof of the house, a training area the twins had told her was up here—they had also told her it was the best place to view the stars.

It’s a breathtaking sight. The wind whips her hair around as she walks to the edge. The lively city sparkling below while the endless sky shines above. Beautiful. She sighs gazing at the sight of the silver moon and tapestry of stars.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up here at this time,” Cassandra spins around, sighing in relief when she spotted Azriel, she hadn’t heard him come out at all.

“Sorry, I couldn’t sleep. I always loved looking at the stars,” She said, grateful Rhys had made it to where she could communicate—at least with the few people here.

Azriel gives her a lopsided smile that makes her heart stutter. “No need to apologize, that's why I’m out here too. The night sky has always been…soothing.”

She turns back to the ledge as he walks closer.

“You know, my father he was ashamed to have children with wings,” Cassandra said, as Azriel watched her from the side, her white hair shining in the moonlight—those green eyes glowing again. “He kept us locked away, and didn't want anyone to see us. My mother had her wings taken when she was a teenager. She said normally they just clipped them but her father was especially cruel and completely took hers away. Well, when my father was drunk enough or didn’t come home some evening my mother would bring us out and let us look at the stars, she taught us the constellations. And I got to see Starfall with her only one time before she died. It was…the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. After she died I never saw the stars again—not until the night you and Cassian took me away from that horrible place.”

Azriel did his best to simmer his anger, to clutch his shadows tightly that so badly wanted to reach out and comfort the female—to wipe away the glistening tears on her cheeks. She looks over at him then and he looks up at the sky so as not to reach out for her.

“Your mother seems like a lovely woman,” He says, hoping the opportunity to talk about her mother may make her feel better.

The smile that came over her face wasn’t what he was expecting. The way it lit up her face had his shadows singing in his ear. Beautiful. She’s beautiful.

She wiped her cheeks with one hand and nodded.

“She was amazing. She tried to protect us from him but she was just as afraid of him as we were. She didn’t know how to get out. But she took care of us. She was still young when she died—he says she died from taking some kind of herbs, that she took her own life. But I—I always believed he did it.” Azriel took in a shuttery breath.

“I’m sorry,” He said, struggling to find the words to comfort her.

“Me, too. I wish I could have protected her the way she protected me. But now she’s up there with the stars looking over us. Watching me, I think she would be happy I got out. I just hope I can help protect someone else the way I should have protected her.” She folded her arms across her chest and turned away from the ledge. “I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Goodnight, Azriel.”

Azriel watched her walk away. Night gown blowing in the wind, the beautiful broken girl disappearing into the shadows.

tag list: @aelinwya @starlightandsouls @fullmoon-94 @aetherl0l @caticorn61 @lilah-asteria @blackgirlmagicforever @div94

[ironunderstands]

Topaz appreciation post because she’s been rotating around my brain like a rotisserie chicken and I need y’all to get her like I do 

Genuinely, I believe her to be the most underrated limited 5 star in the game everything wise, because she is so damn interesting and nobody talks about it ever and it drives me nuts.

So, I’m going to make you understand why exactly I love her and what makes her so amazing in the first place.

Her lore 

Topaz’s lore is rather simple, at least compared to other characters in the game, but simple ≠ bad and her story serves her perfectly.

Long before Topaz was Topaz, she was a girl named Jelena, living in a desolate planet at the edge of the galaxy. The economy of this planet was based around mining and industry, which resulted in her home becoming more and more polluted as time went on. The wildlife almost completely disappeared, people had to wear masks to breathe, and it seemed like her planet was reaching a hopeless, dismal end.

Until the IPC came. They promised to fix everything, and heal her planet of its environment problems, in exchange for every person on the planet signing a contract of indentured servitude to the IPC. Seeing no other way out, Topaz’s home accepted, forever tying her and the rest of the planet to the IPC.

Topaz is was (and still is) incredibly talented and competent, excelling in science, economics, finances, math, etc. Her exceptional talents caused her mentor  and parental figure Dvorski, who works in the Strategic Investment Department to recommend her to Jade, one of his superiors. Presumably, this is how she started her climb up the corporate latter, eventually becoming the Topaz we know and love today. 

Throughout this, she maintained her friendly and headstrong attitude, and never abandoned her love for animals or the people in her life like Dvorski, a trait which will be important for later. 

So, I’ve established the basics, so what makes this interesting?

Topaz’s trauma and how it affects her character 

I feel like a lot of people ignore just how much trauma she really has, and how it affects the way she behaves in the present.

For starters, her love of animals. Sure, Numby is adorable and in general this is a rather fun trait for a character to have, it’s not something you would consider to be a sign of something darker. 

However, remember that Topaz’s planet almost lost all of the life on it, and she witnessed firsthand almost every creature she knew and loved either go extinct or become severely endangered. 

So, when you view her love for animals through this lense, it’s easy to see that she’s so attached to animals because Topaz almost lost them forever, and this trait manifests in a lot of the behavior she exhibits.

According to Topaz herself, her efficiency goes up 27% when Numby is with her, and it seems to be blatantly obvious that being around animals give her at the very least a peace of mind/sense of comfort. I mean in game she is Topaz and Numby for a reason, and her relationship with them is a core part of the way she behaves. When Topaz can’t ground herself, she has Numby to help her with that, which hurts even more considering she is likely going on these missions alone 90% of the time, meaning her literal only friend is a pet/animal. 

Considering Topaz’s biological parents never get mentioned, it’s not hard to assume she is orphaned or at the very least estranged from them, likely due to the disaster on her planet, leaving her only loved ones to be her pets and Dvorski. Losing one half of the only support system she has would be devastating for Topaz, which is likely why she brings Numby everywhere (also considering I don’t think she has mentioned him in the present, her pets might literally be the only things she has left). 

In her own home, Topaz collects a myriad of species from across the galaxy, as if to preserve them so at least even if they disappear on their home planets like hers did, they won’t go extinct entirely. 

Personally, I think her fixation around them cooperating and coexisting also reflects on how she feels about other people. If animals from completely different planets can get along, so can people. If she can convince creatures lacking in intellect work together, then she can do the same for ones that possess it, as ultimately Topaz is a massive people person, and believes what she’s doing is best for the galaxy. 

It’s almost like an experiment, with every little change to their ecosystems, every new organism added, every new abiotic feature taken or removed, Topaz can simulate what that might be like in reality. In a way she wants to take care of humans  like she does her pets, however instead of doing it through her own means, she uses the IPC and her power as a Stoneheart as a vector for that.

But why is she so confident? What makes Topaz wholeheartedly believe that what she’s doing really is the best for the galaxy, even if we know it isn’t perfect, even if only ~80% of the planets she works on are “saved”?

Well, like always, it’s her trauma again.

Imagine you’re living on a planet slowly dying due to its people’s greed and ignorance, in which everything you know and love is falling apart, and absolutely nothing can be done about it. But you don’t need to imagine this, I mean this is a situation we are all going through, as it’s already what’s happening to our planet right now, so perhaps instead picture what it might be like to live here in a few decades if nothing changes. How miserable that would be, how upset you would be at those in power, how disappointed you would be in humanity for doing Nothing when we had so much time and already knew the consequences almost a century in advance (seriously we have known about climate change since like the 50s). 

So you give up hope and accept your fate, accept that everything is going down in flames and the humanity, the planet you know and love is going to be snuffed out forever.

Only to get saved when an outside influence comes to your assistance. Sure, they make everyone sign a contract binding their lives to them, but you wouldn’t have a life to give had they not helped. Besides, you owe it to every other thing that shares your planet with you, every plant, every animal, every organism has been utterly wiped out by human greed, so it’s only fair to pay them back, right? 

I mean it’s your whole world at stake, so how could you say no? How could you deem their terms unreasonable if clearly your own people didn’t deserve the responsibility they had over their own lives? If their situations could only be fixed by giving it to others who could guide them? By giving it to the IPC? The Preservation ?

This is the mindset Topaz grew up on and has known for her entire life. She has seen humanity utterly fail itself and is unwilling to allow that fate to befall others. She doesn’t trust other people to make the right decisions, she doesn’t think they know what’s best for them, because the people she was closest to, her very own people couldn’t do that, so how could she ever expect strangers to do the same? 

How could she ever give the leaders of these planets the benefit of the doubt, knowing that doing that for her own almost caused it to be wiped out completely? How could she see them as anything more than the selfish bastards who ruined everything? How could her heart not ache thinking there were people on the planets she helps who would be doomed to experience the fate that almost fell upon her had Topaz not stepped in. 

How could Topaz feel guilty over the planets that don’t succeed? The ones she can’t save? As after all, she thinks they were lost from the get go? Does it eat her up at night knowing she failed them? That she couldn’t prevent the folly of humanity this time, so the next planet she must work harder, be more stubborn, push back even more, so nobody ever experiences what she did instead?

I mean being an indentured servant hasn’t been that bad for her, she’s succeeded in every endeavor she’s set her mind to after all. Sure, she’s entirely alone, and sure, if the IPC no longer deems her or her people useful, they could cast them aside once again. 

But Topaz is smart, she climbed to the top of the latter, she’s been praised to hell and back, she’s known far and wide through the department for her efficiency and drive, surely she hasn’t done anything wrong?

Sure she’s heard whispers, rumors and projects of other departments, of the deep dark secrets of the company she owes her life too. Inwardly she wonders how those who follow the Preservation would even be willing to commit such atrocities, inwardly she hopes they are just rumors. The IPC saved her planet, so how could they destroy others? 

The Preservation’s power will protect all, will save them from their miserable existences. Nothing else matters in the process, no dissenter understands this as like Topaz does. She will save them, she will protect them, even if it means she is detested by everyone she encounters, it must be done. All for the Amber Lord.

I find it very compelling how despite the fact that Topaz has become a Stoneheart, she is still dressed in the fashion of an average IPC worker. As if she is an equal part of the puzzle as them. Equally useful, equally disposable, equally biased, equally ignorant, and equally foolish. 

I mean, how could she be anyway else?

Her future

Belabog was just as important for Topaz’s development as she was to it.

She was wrong. 

As stubborn as Topaz is, she is not arrogant, and when Bronya proved to her that the people of Belabog can and would fight for their future, Topaz did everything in her power to help them.

As that’s what she really cares about, people. 

I think Topaz the determination she has in Bronya and it shook her to her core. 

Because so far, the only way Topaz has seen real progress is from the hands of the IPC.

But Bronya doesn’t give into them, and she puts everything she has into saving her people. Moreover, Jarilo-VI follows the Preservation as well, but they don’t agree with the IPC’s method of it. 

Is the IPC wrong?

That is the question Topaz is faced with, what is the thing she has to grapple with once she leaves the planet. When they demote her for not getting the debt back immediately, does Topaz wonder why they were so concerned about that in the first place? Shouldn’t they be happy that a world blessed by their very own deity managed to pick itself up without their help? Isn’t that the point?

Does she think back to her previous projects, the planets she saved and the planets she failed, and wonder how it would have worked out without the IPCs involvement? 

Did Aventurine teasing her about “failing” the Jarilo-VI project confuse her, because they were still saved like Topaz wanted them to be in the first place? How could they ever be considered a failure?

She believes debts and payback are what holds planets together, but it only ever seemed to cause Belabog to fall apart.

This is the first time Topaz really is forced to reevaluate her priorities, to question if her methods are justifiable, if she’s really doing the right thing.

Belabog didn’t break her, it didn’t topple her worldview and turn everything on its head, but it did plant some seeds of doubt in her brain, seeds of doubt that will grow into a new mindset. 

HOYOVERSE IF YOU ARE LISTENING HOYOVERSE, GIVE HER THE MENTAL BREAKDOWN + PRIORITY REEVALUATION ARC SHE DESERVES!!! DO THAT AND MY LIFE IS YOURS PLEASE.

Like you don’t get it you don’t get it what do you mean they set all this up and they might not go anywhere with it. Please hoyo please please please let her break away from the IPC’s condition and warped perspective, please let her truly follow the Preservation, please make her turn away from them, please make her an emanator of Preservation after she does this. Topaz stoneheart form, Topaz emanator form. Please please please let her save the crew let her save her subordinates let her save the people she failed previously let her save Aventurine and Ratio let her save Numby let her save herself.

Her instability 

I have already somewhat touched on this in point #3, but Topaz just cannot exist in the state she is now permanently.

Like a radioactive element she’s going to slowly decay over time until she ends up in a more stable form, and who that will hurt in the process, and how long that will take, we will have to see.

Hypocrisy is not something that can exist for long within characters, as due to its inherent contradictions, it messes with the way they are characterized until they are eventually forced to either eliminate it themselves or have the story do it for them.

Topaz is a hypocrite, desiring to do good and help people, but she ends up hurting them in the process. 

However, she has only just begun to realize this, and as more and more of the IPC’s atrocities get revealed, it gets harder and harder for both the audience and her herself to justify her behavior as we witness the extent of their crimes.

So how has she remained this stable for so long?

Well, the IPC has done everything in their power to keep her that way. From a young age she was involved with them, as they not only saved her planet, but her only known parental figure worked in the Strategic Investment Department. Soon, he recommended her to Jade due to Topaz’s exceptional talent, and presumably the other Stoneheart quickly picked her up and took her under her wing, causing Jelena to rise fast within the ranks and become one herself.

The IPC has been Topaz’s only frame of reference for how things should be done, her only perspective on write and wrong for so long. The only hints she gets of other points of view are that of the people who destroyed her planet, her own people. Unintentional or not, Topaz has been made to feel her whole life like the IPC are heroes and the common people are foolish and greedy and evil, and only now has that worldview started to crumble piece by piece.

Sure, we have always known how terrible the IPC was, a perception that has only gotten more and more true over time. However, Topaz is not the audience, and in universe the IPC presents themselves in a very positive light.

Think of the Myriad Celestia trailer and how it portrays the IPC; that’s quite literally how they want to be viewed in game, how they market themselves to other people. If Topaz has only ever known them to be that great, shining, progressive company who vows to follow the Preservation and improve the universe, how could even begin to criticize them? After all, she had never known any other perspective. Even when she did fail in the past, Topaz viewed it as a strike on her own record and an unfortunate situation in general, not as a demonstration of the IPC’s misdeeds. 

The IPC is good, the IPC saves people, the IPC follows the Preservation, Topaz is a good person, Topaz does good things, Topaz helps people, Topaz saves people, there is nothing wrong, there won’t ever be anything wrong.

Until Belabog

They don’t want to cooperate with the IPC. To roll over and let themselves be gutted for all they are worth. 

Well that’s fine, that’s happened before, at least that’s how Topaz justifies it to herself. She thinks of their massive debt, it must be paid after all, otherwise how could the galaxy remain stable?

But the weapons the IPC gave Jarilo-VI were never used in its defense. The thing they owe the IPC for never ended up being valuable. Belabog stood on its own, without the help of IPC in its defense.

They saved themselves.

As if it couldn’t get worse, they did it with the power of the Preservation.

And it didn’t come from the IPC, it came from them.

The Interastral Peace Corporation, who claim to be followers of the Preservation, standing against people who really do have their blessing and being proved wrong.

Do you know how that would feel to Topaz.

She’s wrong, and she’s proven wrong by the very deity she claims to follow, she believes she follows.

So Topaz makes her choice.

Stick with the IPC’s plan, or stand with the people of Belabog 

And she stands with them.

Topaz’s character never changes. I hate when people act like she switched up on them and changed her whole worldview, but in reality that was the most in character thing Topaz has ever done in her entire life.

Because she cares about people, so when the opportunity presents itself, she will always stand with them. 

This is the first time Topaz goes against the IPC’s wishes, and it won’t be the last.

She made her choice, she demonstrated who and what she truly cares about, and that will only drive a wedge between her and the IPC further and further until she snaps.

I find it funny how Topaz is a fire type character, when the song core to Belabog’s themes is “Wildfire” 

However, maybe it isn’t just about them. I think it’s about the Preservation, about what the game in general is trying to tell its players.

How fighting for your right to exist will hurt, but it is not impossible, and that pain will be the only way to enact change.

Well, Topaz,

you made your choice

go fight against your fate 

Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed making this and I hope you at least understand why I think Topaz is such a compelling character. I need an arc centered on her in the future and if I don’t get one then trust me things will be dealt with. She will get her just desserts.