#english has no way of expressing the disgust i feel for all of you

[aristotels]

bože dragi dabogda vas sve meteor pogodija i da dabogda pocrkali svi odreda. kako se ne gadite sami sebi nije mi jasno i kako spavate po noći mi je još veća misterija, al dabogda vas sve poplava na obalu izbacila i dabogda van hitna ko taksi bila, da zlata imali a doktore ne mogli platit. da je zlo olimpijski sport zlato biste imali.

Source, where you can watch the video.

[evolnoomym]

Washing Machine Heart 🩶

Mom’s Best-friend!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: Your Mom is not nice to you, her only Daughter, always picking on you whenever she can. To get back at her you decide to seduce and fuck her Highschool Best-friend Joel Miller. Oh she also has a crush on him so that’s a bonus.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: no use of y/n, female reader, implied abuse, childhood trauma, alcohol, smut, reader has no name only nicknames, size difference, age gap, readers age is mentioned and Joel is more than double sooo, mommy issues, strained relationships, petty shit, cream pie, tittys, choking kind of, teasing, Joel is tiny bit Pervy, of course Daddy kink, unprotected p in v,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: I was mad so this is what I cooked up lol

Shoutout to @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. This is my first time writing smut sooooo be nice please. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly. 🖤

Song’s I listened to while writing:

I Hate My Mom by GRLwood

Class of 2013 by Mitski

I hope ur miserable until ur dead by Nessa Barrett

Bubblegum Bitch by MARINA

Backstabber by Kesha

Jerk by Oliver Tree

You know exactly when the relationship between you and your mother started deteriorating- The day she decided to choose your loser Stepdad, the one she only dated for 4 years, over her own 8 year old daughter. From then on you took a backseat in her life yet she still expected you to take care of her all needs. You hate her for what she did and you miss her like a little kid. You had to drag her home when she drank too much, you can’t even remember how often that happened. Always having to jump in between that asshole and her fighting cuz even though she practically emotionally abandoned you, you still wanted to protect her from harm's way. She forced you to grow up so quickly, it’s her fault you never got a real childhood.

For years you accepted that this is normal. The screaming, the violence and the degrading words became a part of growing up. You were a kid but not clueless, someone who loves you wouldn’t have done all of this. And yet all of them tried so hard to make you shut up and believe it’s what you deserved.

Luckily what happened did not entirely break you. No, you grew into someone who fought for herself since no one ever did that.

Of course you hoped she might realize her mistakes, apologize and change but nothings new with her. She’s great at pretending to be a better person to the outside world, than she is in reality, behind closed doors the mask unveils an ugly woman. A narcissistic self absorbed monster that took all your joy away.

It’s pathetic considering how much she always talks about getting abused by her own father but instead of breaking the cycle she doubled down on it. Going as far as using that as an excuse for what she did to her own child.

She only kinda stopped the abuse once you no longer were a small child. Now that you could fight back she did not corner you anymore.

But just because she couldn’t hit you anymore doesn’t mean the picking on you stopped, no, it was her mission to rid you of the last remaining confidence and self love.

In each screaming match she tried so hard to gaslight you into believing you were crazy for feeling offended by her disgusting behavior.

One time you asked why she hit you as a little kid and the answer left you completely blown away. She expressed that you cried so much, and did it to provoke her. What else could she have possibly done other than raise her hand?

Or another time she refused to acknowledge that she hit you at all but a second later told you that perhaps if she would’ve done worse you would’ve turned out better.

At some point you stopped calling her Mom and only went with her name. You knew that it must hurt but did she really deserve that title after everything she did?

Now at 21 years old the relationship is just as rocky, not much has changed.

Your mom has basically zero friends, she’s a bitch of course no one would want to be too close, well except for Joel…..Joel Miller that somehow was her friend.

Perhaps only since they have known each other since High School, he might have felt some kind of obligation towards her due to that. She told you once that Joel was the boy every girl had a crush on with his whole guitar playing thing they all swooned over him.

Even now all those years later Joel was a beautiful specimen, tall, broad shoulders, huge hands, strong arms you’d like to be enveloped by, tanned freckled skin, a cute butt, gorgeous brown curls with slightly gray streaks showing his age, big brown eyes, a prominent nose and soft pillow like lips.

You understand why your Mom had a crush on him, any woman would bend over for him if he’d say so. She thought it was not too noticeable but unlike Joel you caught it immediately.

She made you the reason for her life being so shitty but now after years of torment you saw a chance at really giving her a reason to hate you. Maybe something is wrong with you for liking the idea of breaking her heart so much but you honestly couldn’t care less. The one you felt sorry for most was probably Joel; he would be the pawn in your deranged game without knowing.

As it turns out though Joel is not as innocent as expected, the more you tried to get closer the more you realized he might be easier to seduce than originally anticipated.

You started with small things like hugging him a bit longer than normally so he could feel you perky full tits squished against his chest. Touching his arms and squeezing them but not too much as if to draw attention to it. And from his reactions, he did not seem to mind.

You were not worried about your mother, she never was the most alert to begin with.

When Joel came over for a barbecue you used the time alone with him in the garden while your mother was in the kitchen preparing god knows what to impress him.

Joel and you had some interesting conversations.

“Soooo you work in contracting, right?” You asked him sweetly. Joel chuckled “Yeah sweetheart, I do. But ya know tha’ already, so why ask?” You played it off as much as you could “Just making sure you didn't decide to switch career paths in the time I haven’t seen you…” you look up at him through your lashes, cheekily biting your lip. Joel of course fell into the trap, his eyes going down to your plush lips in mere seconds. Got ya you dirty old men.

You stepped closer until you two were only a couple inches apart. His chest almost touched yours. In this position you really had to Crane your neck up to keep eye contact consistent.

“What are ya doing Baby,huh?” Joel tilted his head slightly down towards your face. You just giggled at him “Nothin Joel, just…” with that you put your hands on his wide chest ruining them down over his enticing slightly protruding belly. “I know you stare at my ass alllllll the time. I also know you like it when I walk close by you and graze you with my tits. My little skimpy outfits turn you on as well don’t they,huh Joel?” You smirk at him.

You can see how he clenches his jaw…ohhh yes you got him figured out.

He hisses low and menacing at you “You are a little slut ain’t ya, baby. Groping a man over double your age. Teasin me with those sugar tits and that tight lil ass….”

You can see his pupils dilate till his eyes look close to being completely blacked out. You muse “Yeah I’m a whore but you like that don’t you?” With that you cup his hard cock over his shorts he decided to wear today.

He gasps and immediately grips your wrist to yank those devilish hands away from his throbbing length. Especially when he hears your mother’s voice calling out from inside the house.

He backs off and tries to catch his breath as well as calm his raging hard on down to an unnoticeable minimum. Before he leaves to figure out what she called for he turns to you and lifts an accusing finger towards you.

“We ain’t done baby, ya gonna make it up to me for teasin and leavin me all high and dry, mkay?” He tilts his head almost to intimidate you but to no avail you’re just a massive brat “Hmmm sure Joeliii but i think your underwear is anything but dry.” You giggle and continue “Probably full of pre cum am I right,huh?”

Joel can’t believe what he’s gotten himself into and just shakes his head while turning to the house.

Somehow he made it through the barbecue without your mother noticing any tension between Joel and you. Stupid of her but good for you.

In the weeks after that afternoon you and him kept secretly meeting up. Most of the time at his house or he’d pick you up with his truck to drive you somewhere where he could have you without any distractions, of course when your mom wasn’t home. She might be stupid but even to her it would be weird why you suddenly start taking trips with Joel and she should not be suspicious.

Also during the talks with Joel that happened when taking a break between fucking it was once again made clear that he for whatever reason had not an ounce of knowledge about your mom’s crush.

The plan for how the reveal should go was set in motion. Your mom was driving out to one of those weird grocery stores that sold the health powders she drowned herself in, in hopes of making her more pretty from the inside out but to no avail the rot can’t be reversed.

You knew how long that would take her, it gave you enough time to fuck Joel in her favorite spot on the couch. Yeah petty and perhaps childish but you don’t care make her remember how you defiled her lovely couch with the man she was in love with.

Joel showed up 10 minutes after she drove off. You barely got the door closed behind him before he pounced on you. It’s been a few weeks since you fucked him last, you wanted him to be desperate for it so he’ll might be more focused on pounding you then notice that your mother is returning.

He immediately slotted his lips over yours, his hands grabbing at your hips with urgency.

You spin with him attached to your lips so you can guide him where you want him, on the couch. His breathing is already elevated and by the significantly evident bulge he’s massively turned on. Good, the less rational thinking the better.

While you push him towards the couch his lips slip down your jaw and land on your throat kissing and sucking all over. Between those kisses he huffs “Babyyy - I’ve - missed - ya so - much…” you just hum as an answer and when the back of his knees hit the edge of the couch he’s forced to unlatch from you.

He falls back, his head hitting the soft pillows so he’s only slightly elevated. You wink at him “yeah I bet you have and most of all He has missed me huh? Looks almost painful, did you not touch yourself in meantime?”

He sounds a bit whiny in his response “No Baby haven’t touched myself, saved it all for ya greedy little pussy.” Even when you think to have the upper hand he reminds you how different it actually is. “Come on baby, why don’t ya take of that lil skirt an’ take seat on my lap.” While grabbing at his crotch.

Your mouth is watering but there’s no time today to get your mouth on him like you usually love to. At his dirty words you can feel some wetness gush from your pulsing cunt, coating the inside of your thighs. As requested you slip your flowy skirt down your legs.

Joel let's out a gasp „No panties baby? Ya naughty little slut.“ he chuckles and you retort „Don’t need them if I’m with you, so why make it harder than it needs to be?“ at that Joel can only nod.

„Come here Sweet Moon Love.“ he demands.

You get on your hands and knees between his spread legs that lay on the couch. Slowly crawling towards him teasing him with your tits that are almost spilling out of your skimpy tank top.

When you finally sit down on his jeans-covered cock he lets out a sound of relief. Your knees on either side of his hips and his hands immediately find home on your hips and ass, kneading and caressing the skin there.

„Fuck Moon ya turn me on so much take of that goddamn top and show me those sweet sugar tits.“

So you do, slipping it over your head and throwing it somewhere behind you. He’s not surprised by the lack of a bra. He knows you hate wearing them and if he’s honest he loves that a lot, easier access and all.

Joel’s hands go from your hips up to the tits he loves so much. Carefully touching them, his warm hands and the wonderful feeling making it unable not to moan. Swiping his calloused fingers over your nipples, twisting them with determination causing you to keen.

You start arching your back towards his groping hands. His administrations cause the pull in your lower stomach to Continuously get stronger. You are convinced his jeans are covered in your juices and without realizing you’ve started to rub your bare pussy over his bulge with vigor.

„Joel enough I need you inside me, now!“ You don’t even wait for a response, lifting your hips and loosening his belt and unbuttoning the buttons of his jeans. With his help you drag his pants down but only so much that you are able to pull his throbbing cock out of the confines that are his blue boxers and you can see a huge dark spot where pre cum leaked, making you look at Joel chuckling „You really want it huh? Daddy” with a sweet lilt that makes his dick Twitch in your hands.

He just groans “Baby Moon if ya don’t sit down on my cock right now I’ll do it myself and I won’t give ya time to adjust.” He threatens but it really only turns you on more.

You peer up at the clock and see that you only have about 15 minutes left.

You take your original position and when his warm length slips through your moist folds his pre cum mixing with your own juices to create an addicting squelching sound.

At this point the dark hair nestling at the base of his cock and his happy trail are completely soaked.

“Gosh, Sweetheart she’s gushing all over me, put it in. She wants my cock don’t keep her waitin” you love when he talks in this way about your cunt, makes you wetter if that’s even possible.

You lift up a bit again and take hold of his length with one hand, the other on his chest to stabilize yourself. Dragging his leaking head through your glossy folds before lining him up with your gushing opening. You take one deep inhale cuz you know it’ll be a stretch even with how often you've done this.

Before sinking down on him you look at him there’s guilt somewhere deep in your conscience but you shake your head, you ain’t backing out now.

You slowly start to sink down when Joel decides it’s not quick enough so he grips your hips and in one swift fast motion sheets his huge dick inside your tight cunt.

“Ahhh..-ah J-Joel what the fuck” you hiss slapping his chest hard for being so impatient.

He huffs “Sorry Baby but Daddy has waited long enough for Her, just shush.” He actually has the audacity to shush you.

You get used to the feeling of being so filled to the brim and slide back & forth for a moment.

Then you put your feet down flat on the couch and grip the headrest behind him before starting to fuck him in earnest. Up and down at first slowly but steadily you get quicker and harder. Joel can’t even speak unless you count his obnoxiously loud moaning and growling.

“Yeah how you like that old man, hmm Daddy you're all quiet this pussy shut you up good, huh?” You wonder and out of nowhere one of Joel’s big hands grips your throat making you slow your movements to a minimum. He pulls your face toward his and grunts “Baby Moon ya need to be put in your place, ya bratty ass is treading on some mighty thin ice.”

He gives you one hard peck and then shoves your face in his neck. You don’t complain, you love when he’s so rough with you and his musky masculine smell is your favorite.

Joel pulls his legs up and plants his feet on the couch just like you did and then he starts to relentlessly push up into you at an alarming speed so hard that if it weren’t for the arm pinning you to his chest you’d fall off.

“Jo-Joel….Joel it’s so good ah…don’t stop” you babble in his ear and opposite to his harsh pounding he soothes “Shhh Baby I know, I know it’s so much for ya and Her. But listen to how much she’s enjoying it.”

And he’s right besides the obscene “plap, plap, plap” of skin hitting skin you can hear the wet squelching from the place you're both connected. “I’m close baby, where?” He asks while slipping a hand between your bodies to touch your neglected clit and immediately your whiny moans get even louder “I-in…inside Daddy. Pleaseee cum inside me.”

You beg and he loves that “Hmm yeah, ya wanna be filled up Baby?” He questions “God yes Daddy fill me up, please pleasee” you want nothing more than to feel him spill inside of you.

Seems that when Joel told you he was kinda deaf in his right ear it wasn’t a lie or maybe the plan of making him so desperate to fuck you that he won’t hear the door unlocking worked out.

But you can hear the slight clicking and the closing of the door. Unlike what you expect she does not start screaming, no, she’s eerily quiet. Perhaps it’s due to not having realized who exactly you're screwing as if there’s no tomorrow or simple shock.

Joel under you seems to have reached his end and without any preamble he starts shooting his warm cum deep inside your tight hole. The warm sensation combined with his unrelenting rubbing your clit pushes you over the finish line too. With that you pull up from his neck and drag him up as well, crossing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

You know she is right there at the threshold, you don’t care and to rub it in even more you say “Thank you Daddy, I love you.” And as if he knows his role Joel answers “I love you too little Moon.”

And that might have been the final straw, she speaks up and it flips out into incoherent screaming. Joel is immediately startled; he lightly pushes you off, quickly tugging himself back into his jeans and getting up to explain. You however get up slowly and put your top and skirt back on.

With the lack of panties you can feel his spend leaking out of you and you’re sure there’s very evident stains on Joel’s jeans that your mother must see.

The back and forth they must be having doesn’t even register to you. The blissful buzzing from the orgasm and the satisfaction of having succeeded in hurting her are making you all dozzy.

But then she comes charging at you screaming in your face “You’re smiling, you think this is funny??? I knew you were a bitch who only ruins everything, you are a worthless piece of shit a absolute waste of space” she’s so hysterical but you don’t care, it’s good she’s showing her true colors for Joel to see.

She continues “You are disgraceful and shameful for the entire family. I want you out of the house now. You are dead to me.” She probably thinks those words could hurt but it’s nothing compared to all the horrible things she did in the past. You just smirk at her nodding which infuriates her more than any comeback could.

With that you slip past her, Joel looks completely stunned by what just unfolded before his eyes. You don’t acknowledge him much, quickly skipping up the stairs,entering your room, grabbing a suitcase and filling it with the most important items. Then shuffling out of your room locking it behind you. You heave the suitcase down the stairs, no sign of Joel all you can hear is her crying in the living room, it amuses you, not an ounce of sympathy left for her. You don’t bother saying bye just open the front door and out you are.

The surprise is waiting in front of the house, Joel, he didn’t leave but instead waited for you.

He looks at you “Did it mean anything to you at all, or was it just a big joke?” He doesn’t look hurt, just confused. You close the distance between him and you “I wish it wouldn’t but it’s not possible to not feel anything, look at you Joel you’re a so beautiful so caring of course I fell for you.” He nods and takes your suitcase out of your hand. “Wh..what are you doing ?” You question “I’m taking ya home Moon, think I’d let you run around these streets? Get in the car” he urges.

And you do, when he drives off you don’t look back once.

Npt: @joelmillerisapunk @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelslegalwhre @thundermartini @studioghibelli @sizzlingcloudmentality @vivian-pascal @strang3lov3 @xdaddysprincessxx @mountainsandmayhem @mrsmando @joelsgreys @janaispunk @sizzlingcloudmentality @the-mandawhor1an @clawdee @penvisions 🩶

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

[forzalando]

you were in my dream

request: random playlist shuffle request from @maplesyrupsainz!! maddie - i already told you this but i wrote this because i love you hahaha and maybe i will add carlos back into the list of drivers i write for. tbd. we will see what the people think. i hope you like it, love you lots💛💛 song: you were in my dream by laur elle summary: you have a not-so-friendly dream about your best friend. enough said. pairing: carlos sainz x f!reader wc: 1.5k warnings: cursing, descriptions of steamy makeout, 17+

Carlos was, to put it mildly, very confused.

He had passed you a total of 17 times today while running around for media duties, (yes, he was counting) and each time you turned away from him as if he was a complete and total stranger.

You weren’t in a mood – he could see you chatting with Charles, briefly hugging Oscar, laughing with Lando and Max, all of which, admittedly, left a piercing pain in his chest and a disgusting jealous feeling swirling in his stomach.

After another hour without a word from you, Carlos made his way round to every person he’d seen you speak to that day – hoping that they might have some insight into what was going on.

Lando, of course, smiled as he saw his friend approaching, but soon noticed the frown on his face as he walked closer.

“Is she angry with me?” Carlos exhaled, not even a hello or how are you for his close friend.

“Is who angry with you?”

“Y/N! She has been ignoring me all day – I saw her with you, with Charles, with Oscar, with every person around. But me? It’s like I don’t exist.”

“She didn’t say anything specifically but now that you mention it, she did seem a bit flustered when I asked if she knew where you were.”

“Ay dios, what did I do? I walked her to her room last night after dinner and everything was perfectly fine!”

Meanwhile, you were hiding in the back of the Ferrari garage, a fairly secluded spot that you’d discovered earlier in the day. Successfully? Not at all – it only took Alexandra three minutes to find you sitting in a corner with a Ferrari jacket haphazardly thrown over your frame. She’d tried to coax you out, but only when Leo wiggled his way into your lap did you show any signs of life and break your silence to coo at the perfect little dog.

“There she is,” Alex smiled. “Now, tell me and Leo what you are doing hiding over here all by yourself?”

You groaned and handed Leo over to his Mama, using your now free hands to hide your heating face. “Oh god, I should’ve just stayed at the hotel. I thought I would be fine, this is so embarrassing.”

“Que s'est-il passé? You didn’t seem unwell at dinner last night, did you get sick in your room?”

Alex’s frantic mix of French and English and her worried expression made you feel even more guilty – this was dramatic, so beyond dramatic, but you were in a downward spiral and maybe she was just what you needed to yank yourself out of it.

“No, I…I had a dream,” you muttered. “It’s so stupid, but I don’t know what to do! How to act! I’m genuinely freaking the fuck out, Alex.”

“A nightmare? Are you afraid? Oh, Y/N, that’s not stupid but you’re safe here. Do you want me to go get Carlos? He’ll want to know what’s going on – ”

“NO,” you shouted too forcefully. “No, please don’t go get him, I can’t even look at him right now. You have one dream about your best friend and suddenly you can’t function.”

“You dreamt about Carlos? I don’t understand, what did you – ” Alex’s voice trailed off, a look of realization crossing her face.

“Oh, oh,” she smirked. “Y/N, you naughty girl!”

“It wasn’t even like that, we were just making out on his couch, ok heavily making out on his couch, and I can’t look at him without my stomach flipping or fearing I’m going to start drooling. He’s one of my closest friends, I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

“Oh come on,” she rolled her eyes. “Never? Not once? In three years of friendship?”

“Maybe once or twice,” you mumbled guiltily. “God, what’s wrong with me? I can’t stop thinking about it – his arms, his mouth, everything, it felt so real.”

“Is now a good time to tell you that I think you have feelings for him and you’ve been pushing them down? Because you think he doesn’t feel the same? And this dream is just everything spilling over?”

Your mouth fell open and you scrambled for a retort – anything to say back to her to refute her claims, but all you could do was sigh and shake your head.

“I’m so pathetic,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Mi sol, don’t say such things,” a familiar voice chimed from behind you. Before you could get to your feet to make an excuse and bolt, Carlos plopped down next to you. “Now, no more running away from me, ¿bueno?”

“I’ll find you later,” Alex called out sweetly as she hurried away, Leo’s ears flopping comically as he barked back at you.

The heat of Carlos’s body next to yours made your stomach turn, his arms so close to you, almost as close as they were when they were wrapped around your body, holding you tightly against his chest, heavy breathing in your ear and –

“Y/N? Are you listening?” He nudged his shoulder against yours lightly, ripping the mental image away from you.

“Yes, I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“I want to know why you’ve been avoiding me. Why are you so angry with me?”

Your face fell instantly – guilt creeping in and taking over from the other feelings. “Oh, Carlos, I’m not angry with you. I had a dream and you were in it but it’s unimportant, I was being…ridiculous. I’m sorry, mi querido.”

Carlos brightened at the use of the term of endearment – not uncommon at all between the two of you and a sure sign that everything was fine.

“You don’t have to apologize. If I made you uncomfortable in your dream and you needed space, that is perfectly fine. I just wish I would have known before I panicked.”

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you never could.”

“Well, then what was I doing?”

You swore the garage grew ten degrees hotter – a bead of sweat forming on your neck where hickeys would have been if your dream had been as real as it felt. A heavy swallow and a deep exhale, you looked everywhere but at him, suddenly intensely interested in the spare tires to your right.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his breath hot on your neck, his hand cupping your chin to turn your head gently towards him. “Dime.”

All it took was one quick flicker of your eyes down to his lips for a smirk to spread across his face. Before you could even breathe, his nose was bumping against yours and the closeness of him made your head spin. 

He kissed you so softly, gently, his hand cupping your face and his thumb gently rubbing back and forth. So different from what you’d shared in the depths of your mind the night before but surpassing it exponentially in every conceivable way – dreams would never come close to this, never compare to the reality in front of you.

A shout from somewhere in the garage caused the two of you to jolt apart, the sudden realization of where you were sinking in quickly. 

“How did I compare?” He asked cheekily, rising to his feet and offering a hand to pull you up after him. 

Your head was still spinning - your chest heaving from a fairly innocent kiss, god, you were wrecked. Carlos, however, took your silence as the exact opposite - doubt crept into his mind, worried that he’d read everything wrong and let his own feelings guide his actions. 

His sweet, doe brown eyes searched yours for something, anything, to ease his panic. And then, you smiled - wide, bright, blinding, and lovesick. 

“You were perfect,” you finally answered, a sigh of relief leaving Carlos at the sound of your voice. “But, I would’ve preferred the dream setting. Comfortable couch, no prying eyes, no Ferrari polo, among other things.”

“Other things?” Carlos pressed, a wicked grin on his face.

“Yeah, you told me you loved me,” you whispered.

His lips morphed into a soft smile - gone was the playfulness and tension, replaced by tenderness, adoration, and something saccharine. You felt his fingers brushing against yours and reached out to let him grasp your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you in this moment.

“I can do that,” he admitted bashfully. “But, not here. You deserve more than that. When I’m done we can go back to the hotel, grab dinner, and…talk.”

You smirked, mimicking his tone from before. “Talk?” 

“Among other things.”

The sound of your laughter followed Carlos as he walked towards his team, urging them respectfully to get him through the rest of his day as quickly as possible.

[citrus-writing]

In Your Skin - yandere! feitan x reader

summary: Feitan carving his initials into darling

warnings: violence against reader, implied past abuse

taglist: @rotten-pomegranate on Tumblr

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Over time- weeks and weeks spent under his watchful eye- all the fight you once had in you has been worn away. By now all you can do is try to read his expressions and guess his mood and try to be good. You do your best to do whatever he says, but the truth is that by the time he has to tell you, you’re already too late to avoid his anger. You do your best to do what he wants- wear the clothes he likes, partake in hobbies he seems to like seeing you engage in, talk about the things he likes to talk about; there isn't much he likes to talk about, but you try. It's never enough.

You look over at him, sitting alone reading a book in a language you don't know. His face is hard to read, especially at such a glance, but he looks almost cute- it’s strange to think of him as attractive, but that’s the truth; to you, he’s cute, handsome even. Should you feel disgusted for thinking that? Ashamed? Embarrassed? You’re not sure. You don't even know what he would think if you told him- but you do know that his face wouldn't betray any emotion, and he’d find a way to make you regret saying it. 

When he looks at you, you look away fast. You hear the book snap shut and you know you're in trouble. Was it looking at him that made him mad? Or looking away?

"Come here," he calls, and you hurry to obey- whatever he had in mind, you knew hesitating would only make it worse. You come to stand in front of him, eyes fixated on his shoes because you don't dare to look up at him. If you looked at him, what would you see? Not knowing what expression he wears sends terror straight through you. The thought of what expression he wears as you cower is ever worse. You can feel his eyes boring through you. “What you were looking at?” he asks in that signature slightly broken english. 

You don't know what to say, “nothing, i uh, wasn't really looking at anything.” 

He moves to get down from where he’s sat, grabbing you by the wrist. “Liar.” he hisses. You don't say anything as he pulls you from where you were standing towards the basement. You know you said the wrong thing, you always do, and now you have to pay for it. 

Once you’re at the bottom of the stairs he pushes you towards the little operating table at the center of the room, one you’re familiar with by now. The first few times you’d thrashed and kicked and screamed for him to let you go. Now, you don't say anything at all, stumbling to the table and feeling tears sting at your eyes from the horror of your situation. How many times could you mess up before he killed you? You must be on thin ice by now. Was this it? Would you even care if it was? 

He straps you down to the table, fingers tracing over the skin of your wrists and ankles as he secures the leather straps. It’s almost gentle, almost a lovers caress. You watch him look at you, head slightly tilted but face unreadable. He speaks first, “you were staring.” Was that what this was about? That you had been staring at him in the living room earlier. “Then you lied.” 

You can't stop crying, the various tools hung up on the walls glare down at you- and you remember some of them, the way they had felt, the way they had pierced your skin and the way they had made you scream in pain. You nod your head anyways. “I’m sorry.” 

He frowns, looking down at you like you’re not making sense, “don't be.” 

He picks up a clean little blade- so clean it gleamed in the light, with such a sharp and smooth edge that you imagined you’d barely feel it. It's a stark contrast to the other weapons down here- all dirty and jagged, all perfectly crafted to inflict as much harm as possible. This little weapon isn't like that at all- you find the mind to wonder if it’s new, even. 

Then he turns back to you, his face is unreadable, but his body language is a little off. Normally, when he brings you down here and straps you to the table, he’s angry. Even if he doesn’t tell you or show it, you can always tell he’s angry at you. But not right now. 

He traces his free hand from your cheek to your collarbone, peeking out from the collar of your clothes. His fingers are cold, tracing over you in a nearly gentle manner. You try not to shiver. The sound of your clothes being ripped apart by the clean little knife starles you from your spell. He only cuts through the collar of your shirt, only exposing a few extra inches of skin, from your collarbone to the top of your breasts. 

Your breathing begins to speed up, a new kind of panic setting in. Feitan had done a lot to you in your time here, but his touch had always remained tactile, like he didn't really feel one way or another about touching you. You should have known when his fingers brushed over your cheek that this was different. Of course you’d considered the possibility- that he’d brought you here for something more than killing you- but as time had worn on, that fear has started to subside. 

You don't have time to dwell on the details of what he was about to do, or why, when he brings the blade to your skin. Of course, struggle is impossible with you bound so tight, but you have to try, don't you? You try to kick your feet, try to move your hands, try to scream. 

Through tears you can make out his face, he’s lowered the cowl he wears enough for you to see what expression he wears- and though he hides it well, there’s some demented sort of smile tugging at his lips, though he seems to try to hide it. 

When he allows you up from the table, you realize that you haven't been there for very long. You also notice that he’s left you completely unmarred besides the area below your clavicle- which feels mangled, burns and bleeds, and you don't dare raise your hand to test the skin there. 

He picks something up off of a nearby table, holding it out to you- it’s a hand mirror. You can hardly lift your arms to take it from him, too afraid of what you’ll find etched into your skin. He’d never bothered to show off his work before, confident you would see it next time you showered or looked in the bathroom mirror. But he wants to see your reaction to this one. You hold up the mirror to look at what he’d written into your skin. 

FEITAN. Written in capital letters, weeping blood, etched deep enough into your skin you know it’ll leave deep angry scars. 

Your eyes dart to the man standing in front of you, and you're shocked to find him closer to you than he had been before, inches from you, lips wrapped into a smile so twisted and cruel it makes your stomach churn. 

“You’re mine.” 

[k0ff1n]

Skully headcanons (both general and relationship stuff)

The parts with the reader are gender neutral, also there is a point that could be considered nsfw I think but it's really just general stuff so nothing much really.

-English isn't my first language so sorry if there are errors and other stuff that simply ain't right and I hope you enjoy :)

+So first of all we know that he isn't from the world that hosts Halloween town, meaning he doesn't dress like that... probably. Personality wise I'd say that he only has energy when he is 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 excited about something, usually a topic that he really likes, but other than that he'd probably be kind of laid back. Like the Kaworu Nagisa type of laid back, he talks and stuff, nods and smiles but doesn't really express emotions in a really... 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘺 (this phrase makes sense in my head please bare with me).

+Now I fully believe that he probably dresses in two ways, no in between. We can have the fancy version of him, probably on those days where he feels motivated enough to wear something nice, and those are the only times where he wears some type of goth outfit, then we have the 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭 version of him, the one where he's probably wearing a random cardigan with the most hideous Halloween design anyone's ever seen in their entire live. You know those 90s cardigans, the hand knitted ones with the different patterns randomly sprinkled on the base, yeah, those beauties.

+Now let's be sincere, he's probably autistic. He seems to not really understand "standard" social cues, like when he kisses everyone's hand and they are basically disgusted, also when in Halloween town he hugs grim and Epel(?) just because of how excited he is and they are 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘺 dying inside but he doesn't even seem to notice lol. Now the most noticeable part is also the one where he only talks about Jack and the related festivity, it literally feels like a special interest, the kind that sticks with you for all your life and you can't really get out of your sistem. Also we know that no one really likes him or talks to him in his real world, which is unfortunately the reality of many neurodivergent people, often considered weird or annoying by others. I mean all the neurodivergent people I've met always had similar experiences, me included so yeah, I mean he also basically states that so.

+With this said I imagine him to be the type of person that tries to keep his interests to himself but fails horribly every time someone gets close enough and he thinks he can finally open himself up. Now we all know how that would end (not in a nice way) , meaning that he probably hides himself in the realities from different books and movies he likes. I firmly believe that the reason he was so happy to finally be in Halloween town was because he imagined so many times to live there without the trouble of other negative people that he felt as if he actually belonged somewhere for once.

+Now since this is getting depressing I'd say that if he had a partner he would probably need someone that either shares the same type of interests as him or simply has enough time to listen to him rant about his hyperfixations. I'd say that the first one would probably still be better because he'd feel as if someone finally understands him and gets why he likes certain things so much.

+Probably collects weird and creepy things, could be old stuff he found in a thrift shop or taxidermies he made himself or bought from some shop on Etsy lol. I see him as the type of guy to yes, love Halloween, but only a certain types of decorations, I mean the old/vintage type would be perfect but if you ever try to get him close to a basic plastic pumpkin (like the basket kind for trick or treat) he would probably start talking in an annoyed and frustrated way about how society ruined the original version of the holiday and stuff like that.

+Type of guy to listen to those long ass YouTube videos with the low quality image as thumbnail that last for more than two hours but include old songs that no one ever listened to, probably including the ones that 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘶𝘤𝘦𝘥 those songs.

+If he actually had a partner he would probably be clingy af, not in an annoying way but like a cat that's always around you way. I don't think that in public he would display that much affection, probably afraid of other people seeing him and judging once again, but when in private he would probably be constantly near you or touching you somehow, be it hugging you when watching a scary movie on the couch or if he's helping cooking something and suddenly you feel him speak in you ear, scaring the shit out of you because he somehow doesn't make any noise when walking.

+Has the worst eye bags you've ever seen in your life, the type that even if you put a red base and then the green and concealer or whatever they 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 fade away. They would probably only make him look good considering that be surely (to me at least so sshhh) wears at least a little eyeliner or eyeshadow. I dont think he was dry lips, even if the og image gives that impression I have a feeling that it's like those cracked type of lipsticks that you put on in layers and stuff.

+One again, if you share interests he would probably sing various tunes with you, be it the songs form the nightmare before Christmas or things like confrontation form the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde musical. I can see him dramatically move around his room while singing a certain part and then looking at you like you hung the starts in the sky when you start singing the next part, even if you suck it doesn't matter really.

+I don't think that he's asexual but at the same time I don't think he'd be really interest in sex stuff anyway, like maybe sometime but more like vanilla things, he doesn't even look like he has the energy to keep up any fancy type of performance let's be fr. Would kiss you and whatever, sometimes make out if you have the time and actually feel like doing something like that, but generally I don't think that he would care much about there things.

+Probably has a pet, not sure which one but the possibilities are: a cat, more cats, rats (named Jack and Sally obvs) or some type of ferret. Not really a dog type of person even if he likes Zero. He probably doesn't have the energy to keep up with an animal like that even if he wants to.

[sollis-occasum]

you think i'm gone 'cause i left - anakin skywalker/darth vader x fem!jedi!reader (part 2 of 3)

a/n: you can read it as a stand-alone ♡

summary: when a ghost born from his past regrets returns to haunt him, darth vader has no choice but to confront it.

warnings: angst, no use of y/n, blood, mentions of death, mentions of torture, mentions of sex (no smut), reader is manipulating darth vader (but in a girlboss way), darth vader and darth sidious are their own warnings, no proofread, my english is the biggest warning.

word count: 2k

part 1

Darth Vader, who made the galaxy tremble with fear just by the idea of ​​his existence, had subdued leaders who were said to never bow down, destroyed kingdoms that were said to never be destroyed, and made even the proudest warriors beg for mercy. Ironically, the only person who could bring this Sith Lord, who struck fear into every beating heart, to his knees was the ghost of a woman whose heart had stopped years ago.

Was his master manipulating his thoughts to create an illusion of you in order to punish his failures? Or were you the reflection of a ghost trapped in this world because the parts of his soul that belonged to Anakin Skywalker were not ready to let you go?

Darth Vader had no answers to these questions. If there was one thing he knew, it was that you were haunting him and that you would not let go until his heart, which had become a mass that did nothing but pump blood, was numb and torn apart with pain and regret.

Your presence wasn't always this disturbing to be honest, at first he was taking a pleasure in seeing you that he couldn't even admit to himself. You were looking at him with a magnificent light in your eyes that even the greatest massacres and most brutal executions you had ever witnessed couldn't extinguish, you were smiling at him affectionately as if the man in front of you wasn't a war criminal but the little boy you entrusted your lightsaber to. Sometimes he felt a shiver as if you were running your hands over his armored shoulders, and this sweet feeling that covered his entire body reminded him of the times you spent together. Perhaps it was  your presence mixed with the air he breathed that prevented Darth Vader from taking complete control...

However, with each passing day in the empire of fear he and his master had established; with every innocent person he ruthlessly killed, with every enemy he tortured with disregard for their honor in the hope of getting information about his plans, the mask that had become the symbol of brutality was sticking more to the face underneath and his new identity was taking over him

While his burnt, torn body was trapped in an armor, the only thing that gave him a sense of freedom  was his memories of you. But they began to fade one by one, leaving nothing but the memory of your bloody body being dragged by a clone soldier. Your first meeting at the temple, the first time he held you in his arms at the weapons factory that had become a battlefield, the exchange of your lightsabers, the first mission you officially went on together, the first moment he realized he liked you, the first kiss you shared, the first night you spent together... All of them were so distant now.

Maybe that was why your ghost had also slowly begun to change. Your reflection no longer radiated the noble glow it had when you first appeared; your image was more colorless, paler. The sweet feeling he felt when you appeared had been replaced by a pain like an ice burn. You weren't even smiling. A disgusted expression that you only reserved for the most vicious criminals in the galaxy appeared on your face. Especially those eyes... Darth Vader had never seen even his greatest enemy look at him with such devastating hatred.

"You killed me," you said with great anger. "You are responsible for my death!"

Darth Vader had tried everything not to witness those words that had been echoing in his mind for years coming out of your lips. He had told you to leave, tried to ignore you, used the force to disperse your reflection... But you weren't leaving! No matter what he did, he couldn't get rid of you. Finally, he was about to ask his master for help, even if it meant enduring his punishment for being weak, when you asked a question he couldn't leave unanswered.

"Where's my lightsaber, Anakin?"

You were in the throne room of his fortress on Mustafar. Darth Vader was thinking deeply, leaning his arm on the edge of his throne and leaning his helmet on his hands, when he heard your hysterical voice. He reached for his lightsaber as a reflex, but he also knew that the only enemy who could stand against his saber, which was red as if referring to the blood he had shed, was you.

"Anakin... A name I haven't heard in a long time," he said with his robotic voice hiding his emotions. But he also knew that he couldn't hide his feelings from you. You knew his deepest desires and fears. You might have been living in different bodies, but you two were the same person.

You smiled mockingly as if he was a buffoon instead of a commander who had the galaxy wrapped around his finger. "You didn't think I would call you by that funny name your master gave you, did you? Please don't take offense, but you have the stupidest name out of all the Sith Lords."

"How dare you!?" he roared, raising his hand into the air and trying to throw you to the other side of the room with the help of the force, but nothing happened. You continued to stand tall. Apparently, even the force couldn't harm those who didn't belong in the world of the living.

"Do you really think you can get rid of me like that? It's surprising that a ruthless Lord like you can have such naive ideas."

Although you emphasized the word ruthless, an expression appeared on your face as if the anger of the man in front of you amused you.

"What are you and what do you want from me?"

You slowly shrugged your shoulders and started to wander around the throne room. Sometimes you would delicately run your fingers over the objects in the room and sometimes you would go behind the throne and watch the hellish view of Mustafar. There was a silence that Darth Vader, even the most fearless man in the universe, did not dare to break. Finally, you answered the question in a low voice, "Only you can know the answer." Obviously, the answer you gave was not satisfactory for you either.

"I could be your guilt or your regret. Maybe I am your remorse that you cannot silence. Who knows?"

"Nonsense." Darth Vader snapped. "I have no regrets about the past. Such feelings are only excuses for those who are weak enough to succumb to them."

"You may not have it, but Anakin Skywalker does. Maybe that's why you can't defeat him. The remnants of him you can't destroy are suffering, right? Even if you block your ears, you can hear his screams. The more you try to suppress him, the more he finds ways to survive. Look, his pain has created me: the only enemy you can't defeat."

"Shut up! You're not real!"

In a sudden move, he took his lightsaber and tried to separate your head from your body, but your reflection only waved for a few seconds.

"That's what I meant when I said the only enemy you can't defeat." You said with an exasperated tone and rolled your eyes. "Anyway, you've asked enough questions. Now answer my question. Where's my lightsaber?"

"Obi-Wan took it." he said with great passion. His hands clenched involuntarily as he said his former master's name. Even his robotic voice couldn't hide his hatred.

"Ah, I see. So you couldn't protect it. What a shame, it really was a beautiful lightsaber."

You slowly walked towards the throne and sat on the armrest. You tried to keep a sad expression, but it was obvious that the commander’s failures were amusing you. You began to gently run your hands over his shoulders. Even the touch of your abstract presence was enough to soothe him. You could feel him relax under his armor.

“I didn’t think you would give up the only thing I had left so easily.”

“We made a deal. First I saved your life, then you saved mine. After you paid your debt to me, I had no reason to protect the lightsaber.”

"So you're saying that our only bond was some stupid pact we made when we were kids? That the lies we told our masters just so we could spend time together, the kisses we shared, the nights we spent together meant nothing? Don't expect me to believe that, Anakin. If I were truly that worthless to you, you wouldn't have built this fortress on Mustafar as a monument to your failures, you wouldn't have found every clone trooper there that day and tortured them all to death, and most importantly, you wouldn't have sold your soul to your new master in order to save me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you removed your hands from his shoulders and gripped his chin tightly. Technically, you had no power over him, and your fingers had even passed through his mask, but Darth Vader had surrendered to you so much that he lifted his head slightly, just as you wished he would.

"Do you know what I'm actually thinking? Maybe your desire to be Palpatine's toy has nothing to do with me, Skywalker. You turned to the dark side to save me, didn't you? Nonsense! You were just looking for a new master, that's all."

These were words that were too degrading and humiliating for a Sith Lord like him, who was used to being feared and obeyed. He rose from his throne in a sudden movement and held his hands out to you. He knew that he could not harm you, but for the first time, he felt that his anger was harming him, not powering him. He had to do something to get rid of you! However, his desperate efforts to catch you were only making you laugh.

You sat down comfortably on the throne that was vacated by him and crossed your legs with confidence. Your hands were gripping the throne on either side as if you were its rightful owner.

"Look, you can't even sit on the throne, Anakin," you said. "How pathetic."

"The men your master has given you, or that stupid word added to your new name, mean nothing. No matter how much you deny it, you are nothing but a slave. When you were a child, you belonged to Watto, now you belong to Sidious."

Darth Vader clenched his hands into fists and held them up to his face, "I rule the galaxy," he shouted at you. But his voice was weaker, more insecure. You continued, enjoying the pleasure of hitting him in his most sensitive spot.

"No, your master rules the galaxy. You are merely one of his insignificant, dispensable puppets. You have no free will, you still have the soul of a slave. You need others to control you in order to survive. In the past, you needed Obi-Wan and my approval, now you look to your master for help. Because you destroyed everyone who ever cared for you for nothing, and no one else has accepted the monster your sins have created."

"Why are you punishing me like this?"

You had finally done it! The most powerful man in the galaxy, that magnificent figure who bowed to no one but his master, was now kneeling in front of you, his hands on his helmet as if to silence the thoughts in his mind. He was trying to stop Anakin Skywalker, whom he thought he had killed years ago, from taking control with the strength he got from your screams, but he couldn't.

"I am not punishing you, Ani. You are doing this to yourself. Do you want to get rid of me? Then go and avenge me. Make your crimes have meaning. You know who your enemy is."

tags: @circe143 @snowtargaryen @etheriaaly @ariskywlkr @tellybearryyyy @anisgurll

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (4)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: oral sex, smut, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

That evening she could not sleep; she felt anxious, felt that danger lurked all around her, the darkness in her chamber full of chill and tension. She pressed her lips together lying under the thick furs, recalling for the hundredth time the expression on her uncle's face when he recognised her.

Terror, disbelief, rage, disgust.

She knew that she would be facing him in the throne room the next day anyway, that they would be forced to remind each other of their existence.

She sighed quietly, wondering if her letters had reached him at all.

What if his grandfather or his mother simply did not deliver them to him?

What if his rage was because he thought she had abandoned him?

She felt a quick pounding of her heart, a naïve hope, anything she could grab onto in a situation that seemed to her to have no way out.

She thought she had to visit him, she had to see him, speak to him, end this once and for all, explain to him how she felt, how sorry she was that it had all happened this way.

Just like when she was a child, she slipped out of her chamber, walking ahead in the torchlight. She remembered what time the guards on watch at his quarters exchanged and took the opportunity, with her heart pounding fast, to knock on his door.

She swallowed loudly, horrified to hear the cold, sure, rough come in and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She turned and saw his silhouette sitting by the fire, in his hand the dagger he was skilfully playing with between his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, his eye wide open as if he was anticipating this visit.

She didn't know what she should say, where to begin.

She wasn't sure if she was trembling so much from the cold or from fear.

She tried to repeat to herself that even though he looked different, the same man was sitting in front of her, the one who had stroked her hair all night as a child, soothing her this way when she couldn't fall asleep.

Grasping at these memories she finally choked out what she had come for.

"Did you received my letters?" She asked in trembling voice, trying to sound soft and calm, to be the opposite of his aggressive attitude, to make him understand that she was coming in peace.

She shuddered when she saw the dangerous glint in his eye, the dagger in his hand spun around its own axis and curled between his fingers again, an involuntary grimace appeared on his face that resembled a smile but showed that he was furious.

"Yes." He answered finally, and she drew in a loud breath, analysing his answer quickly in her head.

He had received her letters, all of them.

She could see it in his face.

Did he despise them? Did he throw them away? Did he burn them?

"Have you read them?" She asked, wrinkling her eyebrows in helplessness, feeling that this was one of the most important moments of her life.

She saw him settle more comfortably in his chair, lifting his chin high as he stabbed the blade of his knife into the armrest, running it over it, making shivers run through her.

She had the feeling that he had just imagined himself ripping her flesh this way.

"Yes, my Lady Strong. I have read them all. Many times, here, in this chair." He muttered, and she felt a jolt of heat, of disbelief, of both humiliation and desire at the same time, because here he was, just admitting that he'd read her letters more than once, yet he'd never written her back.

She thought it was all a punishment he was inflicting on her – even though he wanted her words, his reply would have shown that he had forgiven her, that he was seeking reconciliation, that he was weak.

It all suddenly became so clear to her that she felt lighter, understanding that there was no moment in which she could do anything more to change his mind, that exactly what was supposed to happen had happened.

She looked around his chamber and moved ahead, noticing that where there had been a small cupboard of books now stood three large, tall, oak bookcases filled to the brim with thick tomes.

"Does your mother-whore know you're here?" She heard his cold, indifferent voice and pressed her lips together at the thought that he was doing it on purpose, that he was aware of what would hurt her, that he knew her too well.

She felt a squeeze in her throat when she spotted the familiar name of the philosopher among his collection and stepped closer, pulling out the book she had borrowed from him when she dared to kiss him for the first time.

"My, as you put it, mother-whore, never knew when I visited you, uncle. I was very determined not to be caught." She said lowly, in a way tired of the fact that she seemed to be speaking to stone, a cold marble to which nothing could reach.

She heard him snort, clearly displeased that his question did not elicit the effect he would have expected from her.

"Do you often visit men like this?" He asked perfunctorily, as if there was an answer in his question, as if it was obvious that she was not waiting for him.

Something in the way he said it, in the superiority in his voice made her feel rage; she moved towards his chair and stood in front of him, looking at him with furrowed brows.

Who was he to speak to her this way?

She saw that he lifted his gaze to her, surprised, apparently completely not expecting her to dare come so close to him, the hand with his dagger froze in mid-motion.

"Have you no shame?" She asked with regret and disapproval. She saw that his nostrils quivered dangerously, his healthy eye turned black, his lips pressed into a thin line.

She knew he was about to say something, something that would make her hate him, make her unable to look at him, and she decided that she would be the first to express her opinion, her suffering.

"I don't know who you are, the man who sits now before me, but if there is even a fragment of the boy I was meant to marry in you, let that boy know that he was and will be the only one in my heart. He was my beloved friend and I failed him. It is hard to live with the thought that someone you loved so deeply has died in a way, but there is neither a grave to pray over nor any hope of peace for his soul. What I fear is that the boy I knew has disappeared among the darkness and is dying in it every day."

She muttered, and although she tried to hold them back, tears of helplessness and despair ran down her cheeks as the last sentence left her lips.

She had lost him, lost him forever, this boy who had soothed her fears, who she had looked up to with such pride and joy, who would never speak to her as this man did now.

It seemed to her that she had put him into a state of complete shock, as he looked at her with his mouth parted, his healthy eye wide open – he was breathing faster, completely frozen, as if he didn't know what to make of her words.

She couldn't believe how much he had changed, his white hair long and beautiful, partly tied back, his scar pale, hidden under a black eye patch, his jaw even more sharply defined, his chin pointed, his healthy eye gleamed in the firelight, his leather tunic and breeches framing his well-built body.

He was a handsome man.

She thought about Daemon's words, about how it was better to rip her heart out than to humiliate herself, but she thought she was unable to do that.

That she needed to feel his closeness this one last time.

It seemed to her that her body threw itself towards him on its own, climbing into his lap, pressing her face and hands against his tunic, his familiar warmth, his scent filled her nostrils.

She heard his dagger slide out of his hand straight onto the stone floor with the loud clang of steel.

For some reason, her body relaxed completely and she burst into sobs, as if those years of suffering and separation had poured out of her like a river; she began to babble and apologise to this little boy who certainly felt alone, who couldn't cope with what had happened and with what he had lost.

She shuddered and hopped up, feeling something hard throb between her thighs, then again and again – she looked at him in disbelief, his gaze terrified, his breath heavy.

She thought she was going to hear him say that she should leave, that she was humiliating herself, that he didn't want to know her, that she was pathetic, but he just stared at her, apparently unable to get a word out.

She looked at his lips – they seemed even fuller and softer to her than they were then and she wondered if they would be as pleasurable if she touched them.

Just this once.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that she herself barely heard the words leave her lips. She saw his pupil narrow, his nostrils twitching restlessly.

She felt a throbbing inside her, as well as in his breeches beneath her when he leaned in slightly, exactly as he had done then, wordlessly involuntarily betraying his will and she threw her hands over his shoulders, pressing her warm, thirsty lips to his in a sweet, loud kiss.

It seemed to her that their bodies were moving on their own, his hips rubbing his twitching erection against her from underneath making her feel something like warm tickling between her thighs.

One, slow, tentative kiss turned into a second, a third and a fourth, his hands suddenly on her body, clamping down on her hips and neck as if he wanted to make sure she didn't leave his side.

She shuddered, looking down at him with slightly parted lips, suppressing a moan when she felt his free hand slip shamelessly under the material of her nightgown and clamp down on her naked buttock, rubbing his hardness against her hidden womanhood with slow, uncertain rocking of his hips.

No one had ever touched her like this before, and she wondered if this was his first time, or if perhaps he had already tasted another woman's body, sinking inside the ladies of the court or the servants.

She felt an overpowering jealousy and pain at the thought, at the thought that he might have desired and taken another, and she thought that this night he would desire only her.

That she would spend the night with him and then leave, surrendering her fate to destiny.

"− uncle −" She mumbled, responding with movements of her hips to his treatments, feeling her insides begin to swell once she had decided what was going to happen.

He waved his hand into her hair and kissed her, greedily, aggressively, quickly, his slick tongue forced it's way deep into her throat.

It had nothing to do with what they had done as children – now their lips teased each other with a loud click of their saliva, his tongue trailing over her palate, licking her encouragingly, inviting her to let their tips touch.

They licked each other like this, panting and moaning into each other's mouths – she let him push her hips closer to him, rubbing his hard cock against her with increasingly intrusive, shameless movements as she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her breasts against his body.

Gods, he wanted this.

She shuddered when she felt his hand pull at the ties of her nightgown, in slow, gentle movement slipping it off her shoulders. He pulled away, panting loudly, to look at the sight of her bare chest, her plump little breasts; she gasped quietly and trembled when his fingers timidly run and squeezed one of them.

She felt something sticky run down her thighs onto the material of his breeches, felt the moisture between her legs.

"− uh − it tickles − here −" She mumbled helplessly, stroking his jaw with her thumb, not knowing completely what she should do next, somehow asking him to spare her the humiliation and take the initiative. She shuddered as his fingers ran over her lust-swollen, puffy lips.

"− it's understandable − you missed your uncle − hm? −" He asked softly, tenderly, startling her completely – she felt the muscles inside her clench around nothing at his words, the tension in her lower abdomen was unbearable.

She didn't know when he took her in his arms and stood up with her, when he laid her down on his bed; she watched as he took off his tunic, commanding her to lie on her back, and she obeyed him.

She squirmed in horror as he suddenly grabbed her thighs and spread them in front of him, lifting the material of her nightgown up, leaning his face between them.

"− Aemond − s-stop, uncle, what are you −" She mumbled in a trembling voice, trying to push him away, to protect herself; she tilted her head back with a sweet, surprised moan when she felt his rough tongue run over her puffy folds, licking what was leaking out of her.

"− o-oh, gods −" She mewled losing immediately the urge to interrupt him, laying obediently on her back and clasping her hands in his wonderfully soft white hair, pushing against him with her hips, listening to the sounds of sucking and licking, whimpering in front of him like a whore, understanding that it was obvious that he wanted to give her pleasure, that he wanted to satisfy her.

"− have you touched yourself here? −" He huffed with some kind of amusement and satisfaction, as if he had been dreaming of this moment all his life, of her at his mercy, with her thighs spread wide shamelessly in front of his face.

She swallowed loudly at the memory of the night she had sunk her hand into her heat seeking fulfilment, thinking of him, the way he looked now, the way he still desired her, and helplessly nodded her head.

She knew he would recognise immediately if she lied.

She heard him murmur with satisfaction at this information, as if he was perfectly aware, looking at what was happening to her now, who she was thinking of at the time.

She moaned in pleasure as his nose ran over her puffy bud hidden between her soft folds; she clenched her hands in his hair trying to push him away as he tightened his lips around it, licking and sucking it, making it almost painful. His hand reached for her mouth to silence her, but she clamped her fingers on his wrist, stopping him.

"− please, uncle, too much − too much −" She cried out pleadingly, trying to pull away from him, and breathed a sigh of relief when he released her from between his lips, looking at her in shock, apparently writing down in his mind that this place was extremely sensitive and delicate.

He hummed under his breath, returning to his earlier caresses, tentatively and slowly sliding his tongue into her tight, hot interior. She threw her head back, surprised at how pleasurable it was, her walls throbbing and clenching like crazy around nothing as he licked her shamelessly with a quiet, lewd clicks of his saliva and her moisture.

"− uncle − mghmm −" She babbled desperately, feeling something approaching, the tension and tickling in her lower abdomen unbearable, her hips rocking to the motion of his mouth.

She prayed shamelessly to the gods that he would just keep going.

"− it'll be wonderful to feel it clench around my fat cock one day − don't you think, sweet niece? −" He murmured between the flicks of his tongue, and she felt his words do something to her; she raised herself up on her elbow throwing her head back, feeling the wonderful, throbbing pleasure spill over her body in waves. She moaned some words, probably his name, feeling stunned and hot with fulfilment, her thighs trembling in his hands.

She fell on his cold bed, panting heavily, begging him to stop, but he made sure to lick her dry, as if he took unspeakable pleasure in her state and pleas.

He rose at last, breathing loudly, wiping his face, his eye wide open as if he couldn't believe what had just happened, with a quick, desperate movement he untied his breeches.

"Touch me." He muttered grabbing her hand; she squealed quietly when she saw for the first time what the erection of a man looked like. He tightened her fingers around its thick root, the tip of it pink and glistening, dripping from his own juices.

She breathed loudly, squeezing it with the kind of movements he was forcing on her with his palm, up and down, feeling it pulsing and twitching in her grasp, that it was swelling more and more, his breath erratic and heavy, full of desire.

"− fuck − fuck, come here −" He breathed out, grabbing her by her hair, pressing her lips to his in an aggressive, frantic, sticky kiss, tasting her own wetness on his palate, his hips rocking aggressively to the rhythm of her hand.

"− don't fucking stop − faster − fuck-fuck-fuck −" He hissed and groaned helplessly with some kind of immense relief, clenching his eye, his lips parted in pleasure; she squealed when she felt something wet spill out of him onto her nightgown, startling her completely.

He leaned in to kiss her, to reassure her.

"− easy, it's just me − shhh −" He whispered between one lazy, moist kiss of their lips and another, releasing her at last, her hand all sticky with his warm spend.

He ordered that nothing was to be wasted and that she was to lick it off, so she did so without a word of objection.

His seed was slightly salty and smelled like nothing she had felt before.

Like sin.

He watched her every move with satisfaction.

"− you are going to spend the night with me −" He commanded, and she nodded, not having the strength to oppose him or think about the consequences.

She didn't care.

"Mmm." He hummed contentedly, sighing quietly, pulling her by her arm along with him, laying down on his back, letting her embrace him.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged her face to his chest, to where his heart was – his fingers began to stroke her hair, just as they had then, years ago.

He knew she loved it.

They lay in silence for a long time, their silhouettes surrounded only by the warm light of the fire burning in the distance.

"– I missed you –" She whispered at last and heard his hand freeze in stillness.

She was frightened that she had frustrated him and felt relieved when, a moment later, he placed a soft kiss on the top of her head, stroking her further with his warm palm.

It took a long time before he said anything, as if he needed to think it all over, to put it all back together in his head.

"Do you still wish to marry me?" He asked at last, apparently assuming that what the others were planning didn't matter and that he had to have a good understanding of what had happened between them, whether they wanted the same thing.

She lifted her head, looking at him already without fear – even though his gaze was cold and his face stern, she already knew what lurked underneath, that if he had built a wall around himself as a child, it was now a giant fortress separating him from everyone else that could not be taken by storm.

What they had done didn't change the fact that they still didn't know if they could trust each other.

"Yes." She whispered, tracing her fingers over the area underneath where his heart was beating. He looked at her for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure she was telling the truth, and then he grabbed her hand and lifted it to his lips, placing a warm, lingering kiss on it.

"− you have such big hands −" She whispered, looking in awe at the clearly defined lines of his veins. The inside of his palm was rough – she thought it was the fault of his daily holding of the sword.

"− they're not as delicate as yours − your skin feels like it's made of silk −" He murmured with some kind of admiration, gazing at the innocent play of their fingers brushing against each other in the air.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the sight, the elation and pain, thinking of all the years she had dreamed of him coming back for her, of telling her that he still loved her. She felt involuntarily tears under her eyelids and pressed her lips together, trying to hold them back, however to no avail.

They flowed down her cheeks one by one, and she felt her chest begin to vibrate as did her breathing. He glanced at her, hearing this and they looked at each other for a moment in silence.

He lifted his free hand and with a slow, tender movement of his thumb rubbed the moisture from her warm skin.

"Don't cry. Come here." He said lowly, grabbing her waist and pulling her close, his hand slipped into her hair hiding her face in the hollow of his neck, her bare breasts pressed against his chest.

She breathed quietly, focusing on his wonderful, familiar scent and the embrace in which, even though she shouldn't, she felt safe.

It seemed so right.

"Tomorrow, Luke will lose his rights to Driftmark. Justice will be done, and I will announce that our betrothal was never officially called off. We will marry in the tradition of our ancestors, ending at last these years of misery." He said calmly, as if he thought it was the only sensible thing to do – his hand trailed involuntarily through her hair and down her bare shoulder, but his mind was far from her.

She swallowed loudly and tensed all over hearing his words, words concerning her younger brother's inheritance which, after all, Corlys had passed on to him, obviously aware that they bore his name but were not of his blood.

He felt her hesitation immediately and began to breathe louder, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her arm.

"Say something." He muttered in an anxious, trembling voice, but she didn't know what she was supposed to answer, her heart pounding like mad, tears welling up again in the corners of her eyes.

She thought with horror that she had made the mistake of assuming that the fact that he could forgive her meant that he could also forgive Luke.

She had noticed it then, in the courtyard, seeing the way he looked at her brother, but she preferred to push it deep into her consciousness, to pretend that it would all be easily resolved, that they would live together in peace and prosperity.

"What will you do if he doesn't lose his rights to Driftmark?" She asked quietly, feeling her voice tremble with every word she spoke.

This time it was his body that tensed all over; she heard him draw in air loudly, his heart pounding like mad under her hand.

"Is your mother-whore plotting something again? Hm?" He growled, gripping her cheeks painfully tight in his hand, forcing her to look at him in a sharp, aggressive motion.

She felt that familiar terror again, fear at the sight of madness, darkness and hatred lurking in his gaze.

"– n-no, I swear –" She whimpered with difficulty. She saw him tighten his lips, his nostrils quivering restlessly in a quick, laboured breath, his eye opened wide.

"Is she the one who sent you to me? To soften me up, to fucking distract me, to divert my attention?" He hissed with growing anger and a note of desperation, a sense of betrayal that escaped his throat as his fingers dug warningly into her skin.

She thought he had completely lost his mind.

Seeing her state, the way she said the words, his grip on her face softened, his thumb ran tenderly over her soft, tear-wet skin.

"– no, Aemond, she wants me to marry someone else, she doesn't know I'm here –" She cried helplessly, recognising that he could do whatever he wanted with her, beat her or kill her.

Nothing could change the fact that she was heartbroken.

"No. No, don't cry. Don't cry, my love. Don't cry." He whispered drawing her to him again and she burst out into loud sobs, seeking comfort in his arms; he kissed the top of her head again and again repeating that he believed her, that he just had to be sure.

Whatever would happen, the boy she knew had never been violent towards her.

"I would never hurt you." He whispered, and her words burst out of her mouth before she had time to think them through, full of pain and disappointment.

"You have done it now and you will do it again." She muttered lifting herself up, putting the sleeves of her nightgown over her breasts, wanting to lift herself off his bed. His hand clamped on her arm stopped her – he raised himself up on his elbow with her, however this time he was careful with how much force he used.

"No. I didn't mean to. Gods, I swear." He muttered, gripping her cheek in his palm, clearly wanting her to look at him, but she shook her head.

"You desire me, but you're not in love with me. You abhor me and whenever you forget that I can give you pleasure, you will hurt me." She choked out between sobs, getting up from his bed; he got up behind her, catching her waist, hugging her back.

She felt his warm, shaky breath on her skin, his hands quivering, his face pressed against her neck.

How could she be so blind, to think that after all this time he would look upon her as an equal?

"I have waited for you for so many years. Don't leave, it won't happen again." He muttered in a trembling, pleading voice.

She knew it was a lie, that he was desperate now, that if only he could be sure she wouldn't escape him, he would do whatever he wanted with her.

"You're right to think I was never worthy of you. Forgive me that you had to endure such humiliation because of me for so many years." She choked out in pain, pulling herself out of his embrace, walking out of his chamber, startling his guards, not caring if they told the Queen of her visit or not.

She returned to her quarters and threw herself on her bed, quivering and sobbing with despair breaking her heart, realising with pain that there was never any hope for them.

He did not love her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

[redxx95]

Exploring Kurosawa's internalized homophobia and compulsive heteronormativity

oh yea baby we bustin out the Big Words for this one 😎

This was supposed to be posted at the end of pride month but Life happened and it got delayed a lot 😩 So yea happy pride month (and happy birthday Kurosawa I guess 😂)

(btw I think I've never mentioned this on any of my other posts but english is not my first language, so if anything I write ever sounds awkward, that's probably why 😅) (also I had to merge a bunch of images to get around the image limit, this post is really long, the word count is at 1930 words 💀)

Hope you guys enjoy the read! 💞

Spoilers for anything up to vol 11

Let me start this by saying that there's no actual textual evidence of Kurosawa being gay (rather than bi/pan), so this interpretation is definitely veering towards headcanon territory. I'm also not trying to establish this as the only Correct opinion and anyone is of course allowed to have their own sexuality headcanons, this is very healthy and valid 👍

Kurosawa's internalized homophobia

The first scene I want to put under a magnifying glass is this one.

Let's examine what's going on here: Kurosawa has just tried to kiss Adachi, whose hesitation he perceived as disgust. Then he pretends it was disgusting for him too, because he thinks that is the average reaction anyone would have, extending this to Adachi as well. The way he says "who'd be into that?" is already lowkey homophobic, but the japanese line makes it even more evident: "普通嫌だよな" (= "Normally, you'd dislike that right?"). Keyword here being "普通" = "normal, ordinary", implying that anyone who would like that is abnormal. So what does that say about him then, who was so happy to get the chance to kiss another man? This is pretty much textbook internalized homophobia, where he has accepted what he perceives to be the general opinion on gay people and has made those values his own, hating himself for it (albeit only briefly here), which is why he internally apologizes to Adachi.

This is not the only instance of him feeling like that, although this next part is slightly more speculative than the more obvious example above.

So we all know that Kurosawa is a jealous, jealous man. It's one of his defining character traits and it's often the source of conflict and comedy alike. But he does not express his jealousy equally across genders. With men he has this strong rivalry where he needs to prove himself better and more worthy of Adachi's attention.

But with women he has a different approach: gently coaxing them away from him, lest they realize what a catch Adachi really is.

So, why this difference? The answer I have is that he doesn't actually believe he can compete with a woman. If Adachi wants to be close with a man, Kurosawa thinks it might as well be him, he's the best option after all. But if Adachi wants a woman, he cannot offer anything and is therefore the inferior option. He believes this even after he found out Adachi's not completely repulsed at the idea of being with a man. Even if Adachi's okay with men, he'll always prefer a woman.

And whenever he imagines anyone else with Adachi, it's always a woman, specifically Fujisaki, which he believes is "his type".

And he at least thinks he's very far away from that ideal. (He's not but that's a topic for a different essay.) If anyone's wondering why he even bothers at all then if he's so sure that a woman will out-compete him, I think the lyrics from the anime opening actually put it best, specifically the last verse:

I have these impatient feelings I doubt this love will come to fruition But still I can't give up this happiness There's a feeling here I can't resist A love like a castle in the sky

So basically, his plan is that he might as well ride the high of his first ever crush as far as it will go, intercepting where he can to prolong it just that little bit further, until it all inevitably comes to an end. (a castle in the sky = an unreachable dream) This plan kind of fluctuates throughout volumes 1-3 as Adachi gives him a bunch of mixed signals, but it holds true most of the time.

Adachi's side

Now I'd like to highlight the way Adachi actually thinks about their relationship, because it serves as a great contrast to Kurosawa's assumptions about him.

Throughout the first three volumes we see him grapple with his newfound feelings for Kurosawa, but he (almost) never puts his gender at the forefront of his musings. The manga makes it very clear that it's his lack of romantic experience and low self esteem that make it hard for him to accept Kurosawa's affections, and not the fact that he's a man.

This second page here being his own little gay awakening, where he realizes that he is not, in fact, disgusted by intimacy with a man.

It's also worth mentioning that when he later introduces Kurosawa to his parents (ch 41), they are immediately welcoming of him, suggesting he grew up in a very tolerant environment.

And it's not like he's completely unaware of heteronormativity/homophobia either, especially after he does his research in vol 8, but he is slightly more defiant in responding to it.

(I love how he just buys that bag he probably doesn't need that's supposed to come with all the wedding magazines, just as this very tiny act of rebellion.)

So now that we can see how different Kurosawa's thought patterns are compared to Adachi's, the next question we should ask ourselves is: Why is he like that?

Heteronormativity in Kurosawa's life

(yes we're finally getting to the comphet part of the essay 😂)

First let's look at the environment he grew up in. There are not many scenes with his family, but from those that we do have, we can at least make some assumptions about how he must've been raised.

His mother is clearly the authority figure in his life, judging by how she's described as "strong" and how terrified he is at her merely setting down a teacup (while Adachi has a more mild reaction). Her reaction to the news of them dating and Kurosawa expecting his parents to go as far as disowning him for it would suggest that she might just be generally homophobic.

But when they actually go meet her we see this slightly more nuanced perspective.

She's not entirely against it, but she does believe they are making a mistake by choosing to be together, hence why she thinks they might "regret it". There's many hardships that gay couples in Japan face, some of which we even see discussed in the manga, so it's not hard to see why she would be concerned for her son. The way she talks about Kurosawa never causing any problems, but "changing" ever since he fell for Adachi further supports that conformity is what she believes will ultimately lead to a successful, happy life. And that's also why she accepts Adachi later, when he's made it abundantly clear in his speech that they are happier in this non-conforming relationship than they were without it.

To contrast, her other child Mari is shown to have a very progressive stance (see: her pep talk in ch 47) and it would not surprise me if that is the reason she's rarely in japan and is never seen together with her family, save for the one time they're all at the wedding. She might find the conforming environment too restrictive and preferring to keep her distance. (shoutout to naina for this bit 🙏)

So that's Kurosawa's family situation. Now let's check how his social circle holds up.

From what we see of his friends, they never even seem to consider him possibly being with a man.

And his work environment seems rather toxic to say the least.

It clearly dictates traditional gender roles as the ideal. Nobody except Fujisaki even clocks any of Kurosawa's advances on Adachi as romantic in nature, even though he seems to be quite obvious about it (see: ch 34.5). And it's not like dating in general is discouraged at Toyokawa either, as we can see from all the women constantly vying for Kurosawa's attention.

From all this we can conclude that Kurosawa's upbringing and social/work environment is painfully heteronormative and until he falls for Adachi it seems he never questioned the status quo either.

The famous onsen scene, while funny, also reveals the sad truth that Kurosawa, in his 30 years of life, probably never even had the chance to explore his sexual orientation, rather focusing on being "perfect" in his straight relationships.

Speaking of those relationships...

He apparently had a bunch of girlfriends, who all seem to have dumped him pretty early on. His mother's surprise at him expressing a willingness to commit also makes me think he's never brought anyone home either. He also only seems to have a surface level understanding of what a proper relationship is supposed to entail, if his idea of an ideal date is just "what the average person" thinks is romantic. So why were all of his relationships so short-lived? Before I answer that...

Intermission: Kurosawa's smiles

It has come to my attention that this is not common knowledge, so let me explain: There's a way to tell apart Kurosawa's fake smiles from his real ones, without any context clues, just purely visually.

Real smiles: (ch 23, 24, 37)

Fake smiles: (ch 5, 13, 32)

The difference being very simple: Blush = real, no blush = fake 👍 And before anyone mentions it: No he doesn't just blush when he's around Adachi, that last fake smile is actually directed at him. (ch 32)

Edit from the future: This holds true like 90% of the time, but as Toyota's art style becomes more detailed, this doesn't apply as much in the newer volumes. I think there's also new details added that I haven't quite figured out yet so take this bit with a grain of salt. (The images below are still from her early art style though.)

So now that we have this additional knowledge, let's take a look at every instance Kurosawa is paired with a woman.

He's smiling in all of these. Not a single one has a real smile in it though.

I think he's never actually had his heart in any of his relationships, and the girls probably noticed it and that's why they dumped him.

And, of course, the first time he actually falls in love...

... just so happens to be with a man.

Even his friends comment on this, who have known him since high school.

It's almost funny how perfectly this aligns with real life gay people. Having numerous, short-lived relationships with people of the "wrong" gender is one of the more common traits of compulsive heteronormativity. (source: me oof) (but also shoutout to the "Am I a lesbian?" masterdoc, google it if you don't know, it's truly eye-opening)

After dating Adachi

So we have already established that he's far happier when he does finally get to date Adachi, but do any of his other thought patterns change?

Honestly it seems like he throws every single reservation about being seen as gay out the window.

He starts bragging like crazy about his new relationship to anyone willing (and unwilling) to listen, he has no qualms about PDA, he marks Adachi up and down so everyone knows he's taken and the only thing stopping him from proclaiming his love for Adachi to the whole world is the still very much existing societal homophobia. But he is a lot more easy-going about it now than he ever was before.

And I think the best way to describe this mental shift is, hear me out, the date song from volume 4...

... specifically the last 2 verses as a whole, and this section in particular:

"I won't let anyone divide our fraction! You couldn't pry this thrill from my hands when they're cold and dead!"

Horrible lyrics aside, this perfectly encapsulates how Kurosawa simply couldn't care less anymore now that he finally has what he's wanted for more than a year, maybe even his whole life. All the societal pressure pales in comparison to the sheer euphoria he feels at finally having someone that he loves and who loves him back just as strongly, feeling cared for and seen like no one else ever did.

And, you know, just happens to be a man. 🏳️‍🌈

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 [𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail Pairings: Jing Yuan x Fem!reader x Blade Warnings: NSFW, !dark! content, i guess, yandere, non-con, threesome, oral sex, anal sex, creampie, squirt, a little rough treatment from Blade.

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq 

Yeah, i can't stop writing threesome wth my favorite men. But these two look especially good together…

You'd rather die than be trapped between two incarnations of the devil himself.

If it once seemed to you that Jing Yuan is soft enough against the background of a ruthless and cruel Blade, then this is not so at all. Right now he doesn't pay attention to your words of protest, or the tears running down your cheeks, or the way your legs are desperately trying to push his face away from your crotch, while Blade calmly fixes your wrists at the head of the bed. The general is gentle only in showering you with sickly sweet speeches and praises, from which your stomach twists in vomiting. The smile, forever frozen on his face, from the outside may seem soft and saturated with love when his gaze meets yours, but how can «love» and Jing Yuan get along in the same sentence when his tongue collects the moisture of your treacherous excitement, completely not caring about how your body trembles with fear and the look of fear rushes from the greedy eyes of the General to the quietly chuckling Blade, unbuttoning his fly.

— Mmm, you are amazing, dear, — Jing Yuan, after what seemed like an eternity, finally breaks away from your wet folds, contentedly licking his lips shiny from your salty slime. — Blade, come here.

— Tsk, — you almost exhale with relief when the gloomy tall figure of Blade moves away from you, moving to the edge of the bed, where the smug General is sitting. — What do you…?!

Both yours and Blade's eyes seem to expand in sync with shock when Jing Yuan bites into his lips in a kiss. You can almost feel his tongue sliding into Blade's mouth, like he's doing it to you. Blade's face expresses silent displeasure, but he doesn't try to pull away. It makes you sick to realize that the tongues of these men now share your taste. How disgusting they are. You take advantage of the moment and check the strength of the ropes that bind your hands. As expected, Blade is too good at everything that concerns your torment, so the rope painfully cuts into the skin of your wrists, preventing you from even pulling tight threads, no matter how you try to do it.

— Bastard, what are you doing? — Blade finally pushes General away, wiping his lips irritably with the back of his hand.

— I share with you the taste of our princess, — you again feel the weight of Jing Yuan's gaze from under half-closed eyelids, when he looks at the curves of your naked body without hesitation. Amber eyes rest on your trembling thighs, which are desperately trying to stay closed in a futile attempt to prevent any of them from thrusting a dick into you. But you know perfectly well that it's useless.

— You're too gentle with her, Jing Yuan.

You try to shrink, hide in a corner, do anything to avoid Blade's touch when his hands reach for your closed thighs, but strong long fingers inevitably press into your soft flesh, spreading your legs wide apart and opening up a view of your crotch for him. You whine, trying not to die right there from shame. Blade has always been intimidating. His habit of scrutinizing the most intimate parts of your body has always made you burn with embarrassment and disgust. You always knew that after that his heavy cock would painfully stretch your insides, but you just wanted to get it over with faster and hide from the eyes of two bastards using your body as a toy to satisfy their perverted needs.

They've never used you together before. It always had to be either Jing Yuan or Blade, and you honestly can't tell which one was less disgusting. But now that the sickening pretense and hypocrisy have merged into a hellish mixture with cruelty and cold-bloodedness, you really began to think that it would have been better for them to finish you off the day they both laid eyes on you. How much you must have angered the whole universe if it has prepared such a test for you?

— You're being too rude, Blade. I like to stretch out the pleasure, while you just use it as a thing. It's wrong, she should enjoy us too, — Jing Yuan's lips are still stretched in the tenderest smile as he gets up from his place on the bed, slowly walking to the head of the bed and stretching out his hands to the rope. — Come on, honey, don't cry. I think I should make you comfortable, huh? You won't be able to accept both of us in this position.

— Tsk, bastard, are you serious? I wasn't going to share her with you at all, — Blade exhales irritably, but pulls away from your hips, allowing Jing Yuan to arrange your bound hands on his shoulders as he embraces you, arranging you astride his body while he lays down on the bed.

You can feel his hard cock pressing against your clitoris, sending a sickeningly pleasant shiver through your body. Bitter tears are dripping from your eyes again from the realization of how humiliating it is to feel like such a helpless doll in their hands, especially when the warm slime of betrayal of your body flows down your thighs, surrendered under the pressure of primal desire, which at some point began to rage in your body along with fear of these two every time, when they visit the room allocated for you with one single purpose.

Jing Yuan purrs velvety into the curve of your neck while his heavy palms forcefully press on your hips, forcing you to descend on his dick, the oozing head of which has already aligned with your entrance. You whine and try to pull away from the touch of his lips to the skin of your throat, turning your head to the side. Stretching is so painful, but merges with a pleasant feeling of pleasure because of how slowly his big cock pushes deep into your vagina. Maybe it's because you're trying your best to prevent his big palms from pressing, or maybe it's because the General has always been famous for his addiction to harassing you to madness, it seemed to last forever, nauseating caresses and irritatingly slow movements, which sometimes stopped altogether, forcing you stay impaled on his dick for who knows how long until he gets bored of it.

When the head of Jing Yuan's cock rested against the cervix with a dull pain, making you shudder, completely lowered onto his hips, you almost forgot that there was another person in the room, drilling your figure with a burning predatory gaze, waiting for the moment when he could bloodthirstingly bite into the flesh of his victim. A short cry escaped from your throat when you felt the rough compression of your buttocks by Blade's cold hands. A sharp shiver shot through my spine as a terrifying thought popped into my head about exactly what Jing Yuan meant when he said that you should accept them both.

— N-no! No, please! — you desperately shifted on Jing Yuan's lap in a sudden panic attack when you realized what the man behind you was going to do. Your futile attempts to escape were instantly stopped by the painful pulling of your hair, forcing you to throw your head back.

— Shut up, — Blade growls, leaning over your ear. You freeze when your eardrums are struck by his terrifyingly low, husky voice. It always sounds like the call of your imminent doom, to which your imprisonment here must inevitably lead. You'd be lying if you said you didn't want to finally be free of this torment, but you knew they'd never let you die so easily.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, simply enjoys the view of your throat that has opened up in front of him, the way your muscles tighten when you swallow convulsively, opening your lips and exhaling air intermittently from your painfully constricted lungs. You are so seductive in your defenselessness and weakness. General's lips find their place on your neck again when he lifts up, pressing into your vulnerable throat exposed in front of him, lifting your hips on his cock.

You whimper when you feel another hard organ pressing against your ass, but these pathetic sounds instantly break into a scream when Blade's dick ruthlessly, without any preparation, penetrates inside. He has always been so cruel and seems to be indifferent in his ugly love for you, allowing himself to use you solely for his own pleasure, not caring that he causes you more and more pain over and over again.

The feeling of two members settling into your insides is simply unbearable. You stagger on the verge of insanity when they both start moving in turn, not leaving you for a second free from the weight of their hard organs tearing you apart from the fusion of the feeling of hellish pain caused by Blade and the pleasure that Jing Yuan gives you, steadily pushing up towards your hips, while one of the his palms are persistently caressing your clitoris. Blade, on the other hand, seems to be less ruthless than usual, filling you deeply and roughly, but as if enjoying the feeling of the tightness of your walls, tightly contracting in painful spasms around his impressive girth.

One of Blade's palms rests on your ass, pressing even harder than Jing Yuan's hand, setting a faster pace to your movements.

— How impatient you are, Blade, — Jing Yuan coos into the warm skin of your neck, moving the palm resting on your thigh to Blade's fingers pressing into your elastic flesh.

— Idiot, stop groping me, — Blade growls again behind your back, pressing even harder on your delicate skin, it seems, instantly leaving bruises on it when you feel how their movements become more careless and energetic.

— But I love both of you!

You feel sick every time you hear any words of love from them. These people are not destined to ever understand true love. What they call love is nothing more than the ugly obsession of two sadists who torture you into unconsciousness every time one of them appears at the door of your room.

Your sobs gradually turn into stifled moans. No matter how much you want to feel disgust, it is drowned out by the treacherous pleasure spreading in the bottom of your stomach. Blade pulls your hair even tighter, forcing you to put your head on his shoulder while his hips meet your ass with loud pops. You can feel the heat coming from his sculpted abs and muscular chest, which meet your back whenever his cock returns to your insides. Hoarse moans and growls come out of his throat, stirring your eardrums.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, behaves quite quietly, as if just enjoying the sounds of your and Blade's pleasure, trying to keep up with the pace set by the Stellaron Hunter. His lips roam over your skin, making their way from the bruises to your chest, where he stops to painfully squeeze one of your nipples between his teeth.

All this is so disgusting and just drives you crazy from the feelings of shame, self-loathing and fear that are tearing your heart out because your body really enjoys the violence that is being done to it. Their members synchronize at some point, making you scream from the way they seem to stimulate all the sensitive places in your insides when they meet each other through the wall separating them from each other. Your nails desperately dig into your own palms, tearing the skin to blood, but you are no longer able to feel this burning pain when your body is tormented by so many sensations that you are not able to cope with. The dimness of the room gradually swirls and fades before your eyes, and the sounds that uncontrollably fly out of your mouth subside when you feel a tight bubble exploding in the bottom of your stomach, scattering into tiny fragments that travel through every nerve in your body. You give up, you go limp, squeezed between two ruthless men who do not pay any attention to how consciousness leaves you, too keen on how your walls are clamped in a tight vice by their members when an orgasm crushes you. Your warm moisture streams onto Jing Yuan's embossed abs and chest, causing his body to shake in a guttural chuckle. Usually he needs more time or he just likes to stretch out the pleasure, but now he feels like his culmination is steadily approaching the bottom of his stomach, and he is unable, and has no desire to hinder it.

Blade feels the same way, spellbound, watching from under heavy eyelids for your extinct face resting on his shoulder. The sight of your impotence makes his massive cock throb and swell in your tight insides until, almost in unison, moans break from the lips of both men, marking the onset of their culmination. Your still-spasming walls are filled with portions of hot sperm, while Blade lowers his head on your shoulder, and Jing Yuan buries his forehead in your chest, catching his breath after a surprisingly intense orgasm.

The men remain motionless for a while, until Blade finally pulls his hand away from his thigh, irritably freeing himself from under the weight of Jing Yuan's palm and leaving your insides, allowing the sperm to vulgarly flow from your ass down the General's cock and his thighs still resting in your vagina. Jing Yuan picks up your body, gently emerging from under your bound hands and also slipping out of you, arranging your limp figure on the bed. The golden irises involuntarily glance over your vulnerable fragile body, stopping at your thighs, between which the pleasure fluids of all three of you have mixed.

— How wonderful. She's really made for both of us.

The General chastely removes the disheveled hair from your sweaty forehead, admiring your relaxed sleeping face. Blade is silent, taking one last look at you before grabbing his scattered belongings from the floor and leaving the room.

To your great regret, it seems that they both came to the same conclusion, although only Jing Yuan dared to voice it out loud, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek before untying the rope on your wrists and following Blade into the bathroom.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

omggggg can i request billingual reader and maybe peter finds it cute that when shes explaining stuff she has a thinking face of what to say next cos she wants to be sure of how to say it in english 🥹 or maybe hearing her speak in her mother tongue/native language does he find it cute or smn :(((((((

as a white english–speaking woman, i only feel comfortable writing for a bilingual reader with a language/culture that i’m relatively familiar with and could properly represent, which isn’t many :,)

so i will write an imagine for a bilingual reader with a language i’m going to school for: ✨sign language✨

i hope that’s okay :)

a/n — i am still a student and i’m constantly learning, so if there’s a detail or some information that i’m incorrect about, please tell me asap !!!

✨masterlist✨.

2.5k.

Sitting alone at cafes was a custom for you. People watching, spectating murmurs and laughter but never quite grasping it. You lacked the understanding of how the sound captured their conversing, but you weren’t missing anything. Your focus was mainly set on finishing your chemistry homework, anyways.

Midway through an equation, the light shifted over your table. You felt the dip in the booth on your left and looked up to see who sat beside you. Your eyes met the deepest brown pair you swore you’d ever seen. It was almost like the rest of the room lit up with color after you first caught a glimpse.

You certainly recognized the boy. He went to school with you, but you’d barely crossed paths other than having a class or two together. And from the way he glanced at your paperwork, you assumed that chemistry was on his schedule too.

His lips moved, and your eyes studied their shapes as best as they could. Perhaps he was nervous, or overly caffeinated, but the movement was too swift to distinguish.

Slowly, you shook your head at him, right index finger pointing to your ear. Apology and disappointment weighted your eyelids. You really did want to see what he wanted to ask you, but your expectation was for him to up and leave.

Instead, sudden understanding washed over him; a look of epiphany. Quickly after, patience overtook the presence beside you. You were shocked. He tried to slow his words of choice down, using his hands to illustrate but not really communicate. You could tell he was trying, so you didn’t want to make fun of his efforts. The smallest fit of laughter threatened to slip from your lips as you gestured at him to stop.

From the table, you grabbed your notebook and flipped to an empty page. Your pencil flew over the page to jot down a question:

‘Do you know any sign?’

You figured that was a start.

Watching the way he smiled, you nearly forgot to hand him your pencil to reply. Your eyes followed his hand as it met the parchment and scribbled so gently, it surprised you to see writing even stuck. He pushed it over to you. ‘Yes, I know one’

Your eyes met, and you studied him patiently. His right hand sat atop of his left elbow, holding a fist that excluded his pinky and index fingers; a rockstar skull. His left hand rested beneath his right elbow, opening and closing a fist with a flicking motion. It was a sign you knew all too well. ‘Bullshit,’ you watched him mouth.

The giggle bubbles through your throat with physical feeling, and your hands gently pressed his arms to make it stop. You shook your head, smiling as you corrected him.

Your dominant hand met your chin with an open hand, lightly touching the tips of your fingers to your face. As you moved your hand to the space in front of you, you closed your hand into a fist.

‘Bullshit,’ you mouthed back at him. The crinkle in the boy’s brow marked his confusion.

Pen met paper again as you wrote out the explanation. ‘Hearing people came up with a fake sign to act like they knew shit.’

He looked up at you with some disgust to his expression, and you simply shrugged at him.

Politely, he held his hand out for the pen, and you gave it to him with the trust that he’d return it soon after.

‘Then maybe you could teach me some instead?’

The grin on your lips was unbreakable, and only seemed to grow the more you kept up the conversation. You nodded your head, writing a simple ‘sure:)’ beside his note. You met his eyes again, pointing to your chest before swiftly fingerspelling your name. The boy marveled at your hand, equally lost and mesmerized.

His pointer finger rapidly twirled the air, circling near his face four or five times; you assumed that meant he wanted you to repeat yourself. So, you agreed.

Slowly, you held out each hand shape of your name a little longer, waiting til the twinkle in his eyes indicated that the letter was registering for him. It was fairly entertaining to watch.

He wrote it on the notebook once he got it just to clarify with you. ‘Y/N?’ He seemed nervous for your reply.

You signed yes, then gestured for him to do the same. You wanted to see what his name was.

Hesitantly, the boy tried his best, bouncing each hand shape to the letters of his name. It made you happy to see his attempt, and you were fond of his efforts.

Pulling the notebook closer, you jot down his name. ‘Peter?’

You’d never forget the way he smiled at you afterwards. ‘Yes:)’ He wrote back. ‘You want help with chemistry?’

And that’s how you met Peter Parker.

You were an unlikely duo at Midtown. It was nice to have somebody in the classroom to have secret conversations with, and to teach sign to. Peter picked most things up pretty quickly, especially because he had an excellent teacher. Plus, little did you know that he watched ASL courses off YouTube in his free time.

That is, his freetime when he wasn’t being Spider–Man.

He never told you that he was Spider–Man. In fact, you didn’t find out he was until a few months into your friendship. After months of study hours and movie nights, you watched Spider–Man signing to a Deaf kid on the news; the web–slinging superhero signed what like salad.

That was a classic Peter Parker mistake.

So, when were you planning to tell me you’re Spider–Man? You asked him, signing nonchalantly. You’d waited all week until you two were alone, studying like you normally did on the weekends. You sat back on his desk chair, raising a brow, calm and collected.

It took everything in him not to forget how to respond. Peter had been practicing sign, but he still wasn’t nearly as versed as you were. What? He started. Poor way to respond on his part. You pointed at his hands, trying to call him out.

That! You were so determined to catch him in his coverup, opening your laptop.

His hands flailed to try and capture your attention. However, your laser focus was something he couldn’t cut.

Having the clip ready, you played it, turning the screen towards him and showing him the fluke in his signs.

Peter facepalmed when he noticed, face red as a tomato but you couldn’t care less. You felt more than accomplished to have deciphered his secret. You owe me!

Signing, Peter got over himself a little, rolling his eyes playfully at you. Whatever, fine!

To help Peter practice his signing, you’d dismissed your in–class interpreters the second the bell rang and had Peter translate your questions to your teachers. Perhaps it was selfish to put him on the spot, but when you’d asked him about it later, he said he was more than happy to help you out.

He enjoyed learning sign, almost as much as he enjoyed his time with you. Peter had never met anyone as amazing as you; nobody that he’d met before watched the world with your eyes, or lit up a room so vibrantly. You always asked the right questions, saw straight through people’s bullshit, and put others’ needs far before your own. Don’t even get him started on the fact that you’d never even heard your own laugh before.

Peter couldn’t wrap his head around all the things he thought you were missing out on. That was how he saw it, at least, til you changed his mind. He was grateful to know how your fit of giggles sang to him, but there was more things to life than that. Sound was only one way to see the world; if you choose to act like it’s a principle more than a privilege, you’ll get nowhere. He knew he’d waste time dwelling on things you weren’t even sad over.

Instead, Peter would marvel at how fluently and beautifully you’d sign when you were passionate about something. The choreographed tangents that you’d go on absolutely mesmerized him, even though he could only pick up one or two things you were saying.

Your hands moved so fast, he second guessed whether you were actually communicating or just painting a masterpiece with the shapes of your hand.

That blissful, ecstatic look in your eyes told Peter everything he needed to know. He was the luckiest boy in the world to know you.

You were the most joyous person he knew.

That joy was a strength that you’d gained overtime, though.

Rushing down the school halls, you had memorized the rhythm underneath your feet as you pattered down the tile. You always pictured the sound like something fragile, or feathered, especially seeing as your shoes had rubber soles. Sometimes, when you walked slow enough, you could feel the rattling steps of other students around you.

Today, specifically, the rumbled pattern beneath you threw you off your rocker.

Especially as the charging steps behind you tread right in your direction.

A hefty pair of hands shoved your shoulder blades, pushing you toppling into the floor beneath you. The sound of chatter couldn’t be heard, but you certainly felt the energy in the hallway shift. Pressing off the floor with your hands, you noticed the eyes now mindful to your presence. You had an audience.

You flipped yourself around to look at the shadow towering over you. Some flimsy–looking, curly haired, short classmate of yours stood above you. His hands perched on his hips as he spewed words at you, mouth moving far too quickly to lip read. You stayed there, staring up at him with a glare, merely making out the words ‘stupid’ and ‘Parker’ from his muted speech.

You were used to bullies, but you couldn’t sit while this dickhead kept Peter Parker’s name disrespectfully in his mouth.

Just as you pressed up to rise to your feet, this bitchass shoved the toe of his shoe right in the center of your chest, pushing you back into the ground and leaving dirt all over your favorite top. You felt the gasp leave your throat, trying to fight against it.

That’s when Peter Parker swooped in and forced the boy away from you. Anger wasn’t an expression you’d seen on Peter’s face, and you couldn’t tell whether it was something to awe at or fear.

Their echoed shouts and feuds and insults bounced from the floor and into your fingertips. You could tell the words they exchanged were ugly, considering that the two were face to face and both had such crease to their eyebrows. Fists clenched, shoulders squared, you could tell they were about to brawl.

Peter threw the first punch, taking you by surprise but still sending a smile to your lips. The two boys had a displeasing fight to the eye, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to look away.

A girl to your left offered a hand to help you off the floor, to which you signed a quick thank you before both of you saw the boys getting caught by a set of teachers. All it took was a second before the two boys froze dead in their stances and peacefully walked with the teachers down the hall to the principal’s office.

In an instant, all eyes found their way to you and your dirt–stained top. Before you let them react to the heat growing on your cheeks, you rushed off, going to the one place you knew you wouldn’t be disturbed in.

Two and a half hours passed before Peter walked through the open door of his bedroom, a small smile on his lips as he greeted you. Are you okay? He signed quickly, soon shutting the door.

Are you okay? You signed right back, swift to press off your spot on his bed and walk over to him. Peter was the one with the blackened eye and busted lip. Clearly he should be the one to worry about. Your hands found his cheeks and gently cupped his face as you looked at his injuries. The sight broke your heart.

Although, you weren’t expecting to see his pale cheeks brighten with red in your grasp. You could feel the second when his breath stopped fanning your face, and that’s when you realized that his breath had been fanning your face; you were inches away from him. The atmosphere of the room changed.

‘What?’ You mouthed, brows creasing together with concern. You weren’t stupid, but you were definitely choosing to ignore the obvious. There was no way that Peter Parker was flustered by you, right? That was preposterous.

His eyes threatened a glance at your lips before you felt his fingers curl around your wrist. Peter moved your left hand to his chest, pressing against his heart. The skin beneath his shirt pulsed against you, and quickened by the second. Things felt very intimate, things felt very thick and hot and heavy. You didn’t notice it til right then that the room was getting hotter.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of his lips and you hadn’t noticed that you were staring at them. Peter’s face moved closer to your’s and that’s when you decided to be bold. You captured his lips with yours, kissing him tenderly, careful. The caress of his hands down your sides and grasp he held around your waist told you that you didn’t have to tread as cautiously.

Peter kissed you and every inch of you felt warm. You swore you’d lifted off the ground when his hands held your back, your hips, your waist. His lips against yours truly felt something like magic and you never wanted to leave this moment. A moment where his hair was silk between your fingers and his body became one with your’s.

Pulling back, Peter kept his arms around you, now taking the time and the close proximity to study you and your injuries; you learned to recognize the protective look in his eyes. His stare stopped and stuck itself to the dirt smudged between your breasts. He moved his right hand from your waist. Your shirt.. Peter couldn’t help but stare at the stain.

You couldn’t care less about it. What? You want it off? You joked, watching the immediate shift in his expression, and feeling the laughter he admitted through the tips of your fingers on his torso. Peter pulled you back into a kiss and you knew right then and there that things would be different.

Never in your life did you think you’d get so lucky as to meet Peter Parker, but now that you had him, you knew you’d never let him go.

[cleake]

OMGGGGG can u do one where Draco has a crush on Gryffindor! Muggleborn!reader, but she’s a muggle born so he bullies her, so nobody finds out, and after one particular harsh insult, she breaks down and runs away and bumps into Harry (she’s besties w the golden trio) and he comforts her and they share a kiss, and the next day during breakfast, the whole school sees the pair walk in hand in hand, Hermione and Ron r teasing them and Draco is left feeling rlly guilty?

tysmmmmm

Hello, Hello

I enjoyed writing this (I’m working on other requests too, don’t worry :))

Warning: English is not my first language, please excuse any mistakes

Draco didn’t like you, he despised you. At least he had to. How would it look, you, a muggleborn, being with him? A majestic pureblood? Absolutely no. What would his father think? What would the people think? What would The Dark Lord think? He’d be despised and disowned, that’s for sure. But he secretly wished and hoped that one day he could be lovely to you. He secretly wished and wanted to be kind to you, he secretly wanted to make you feel loved and cared for. But his job is to make you feel horrible, helpless, disgusting because of the horrendous blood that pumps in your veins. How tragic.

And this day was no different, Draco found you, cornered you with his words and that disappointed, disapproving scowl on his face. 

„There you are, you filthy mudblood. Oh, how I was not looking forward to seeing you.” Lie. He couldn’t wait to see you. His heart was aching for it for the whole day, „What’s that? A potion book? You shouldn’t even be entitled to hold that, you disgrace.” 

It hurts, doesn’t it? You could feel how your embarrassment, rage, and frustration filled your mind and heart, you could feel how your throat tightened around your neck and your lungs flattened, making it harder to breathe. You looked at him, Draco Malfoy, standing in front of you with unspeakable hatred and contempt.

„Leave me alone, Malfoy. It’s not like you don’t have other ‚mudbloods’ to tease.” You said, calmly as for someone who’s getting insulted by a spoiled brat. No, he can’t leave you, you’re not just one of the mudbloods, you’re the mudblood. 

„Oh, talking back, are we?” He exclaimed, raising his eyebrows as he tilted his head, looking at you with wider eyes, „You shouldn’t be even allowed to talk to me. You shouldn’t even be allowed in this school. Your kind is a disgrace, disgusting excuses for wizards.” His face formed into a disgusted scowl again, his eyes caressed you up and down with contempt. How a muggle is so majestic, he thought, but he couldn’t tell you, not in a million years, he had to make his disgust for you known.

You sighed, annoyed and tired of Malfoy’s words as you tried to just walk away, trying to pass through him but no, he blocked your way and stood right in front of you, his eyes sharp with all the contempt he could muster.

„Where do you think you’re going, mudblood?” He asked in a lower, more threatening tone.

„My dorm room, now if you’ll excuse me.” You answered calmly again, not looking up at his face even, just trying to walk past him again. No, he grabbed your arm, his hand launching at it with a force that only a person full of hate could hold. You looked up at him and as you did his face was coming closer to yours, that scowl still there but something in his eyes changed. It wasn’t a big change, it was almost unnoticeable but you, someone who’s seen his disgusted face so many times, can tell that something’s different. His eyes were no longer sharp, his eyebrows lightly scrunched up, as if in an expression of desperation and small sadness. His lips were still a scowl and the corners of his nose were tight, tensed up, but you didn’t notice that.

„You’re staying here.” He said, his voice suddenly and surprisingly going softer, more delicate but still threatening, demanding. You both looked at each other for a moment in silence, trying to figure out what the other was thinking, what the other’s intentions were. He stared at you, at those eyes he desired to have for himself, at those lips he wanted to caress and kiss, at your cheeks that he wished he could hold and mark as his own. How unfair is this. How tragic. But you broke the moment of magic by shaking your head, Draco’s thoughts came back to reality and he had to pretend he was disgusted with you again.

„No, I’m not.” You said and snatched your arm away from him, walking away, your footsteps echoing and bouncing off the walls of the hallway, reminding him that soon they’ll disappear, that you’ll disappear. He can’t have that, he turned towards you again and his fingers brushed against your wrist gently, lightly, ghostly almost, as he desperately tried to hold onto you, to make you stay but you slipped away, continuing to walk, unaware of his hand, unaware of his feelings. He looked at you and his desperation mixed with his hatred for you, both of his feelings for you coming together in an honest, brutal rage. 

„Come back, you! Come back, filthy mudblood! You have no right to turn your back on me! You’re nothing but a fool, a disgrace, a disappointment, a traitor! Do you think someone will accept you in the real world? Hogwarts is only protecting you for a while, afterwards you’ll be alone in this world! You’ll have no one to turn to, no one to talk to, no one to help you, just because of your filthy blood!” Just because of your filthy blood, he thought, just because you have to be disgusting, just because others see you as disgusting, he can’t admit that he sees you as beautiful, just because you’re beautiful he can’t deny your blood, „Your blood will never be forgotten! Your blood will always be a burden, and your blood will always be disgraced! You only deserve to be disgraced!” He yelled after you, your back turned towards him as if his words didn’t matter to you, as if they were just whistling of the wind. But his words did touch you in some way, you could feel how your heart started to tremble, how your face formed into a look of sadness and hurt, and how you lightly squeezed the book you shouldn’t be holding to your chest. What a horrible boy he is, can’t he give up already? No, he can’t. 

„No one will care for you, no one will love you, no one will ever treat you as you want them to, because you only deserve to be disgraced, disowned, harassed, hated. Your only meaning in life is to be destroyed.” He added and that broke you inside, how can he be so stupid and cruel? What’s the matter with him? 

You didn’t try to understand or care, you started to walk faster through the hallway, still feeling his presence behind you, wanting to get away from his judging eye. You felt how your heart trembled and beat faster with sadness and hurt, you felt alone and started to question if the words he said were true. Of course they weren’t, he wanted to tell you that, he felt ashamed and embarrassed for telling you this, not the truth, but he can’t go after you, he can’t go apologise, he can’t let you know. He just watched you, as you slowly but surely disappeared after a turn in the hallway, hearing only how a small sniff echoed through the cold walls.

You felt tears choking you, you felt how your lungs shrank and suffocated you. You felt how heavy your steps were, how fast they were getting, and how your lips twisted into a frown. Draco has always been nasty to you and you tried your best to just ignore him, let him insult you and then walk away as if it was nothing, let him have his immature fun. But this time it ached your heart more than usual to hear him say that. And that mare soft look in his eyes for just a second made you feel even worse. You sniffed and sniffed, wiping your tears as quickly as you could when they fell down your face to not let anyone who could be in the hallways see them. You kept your eyes on the floor so no one would notice how glassy they were, you didn’t look up to see where you were going, just walking ahead as you felt how much your head was a mess of emotions, guilt, and anger. Everything in you boiled and you suddenly felt a force in front of you making you stop and stumble a few steps, your heart almost stopped and jumped in your chest.

„Oh, sorry— Y/N, it’s you.” You heard a familiar voice and felt a little better. You stood on your straight feet and finally looked up at the face of Harry Potter, „You… What has happened? Are you alright?” He asked, his brow narrowing a little in concern as he saw your glassy eyes and slightly redder nose, not the most flattering look on you. You shook your head at the beginning and wiped your eyes quickly.

„I’m alright, don’t worry.” You tried to deny your tears and gave him a small, forced smile but you could tell he wasn’t buying it, he tilted his head as he looked at you intently, he knew your honest smile too well to notice it.

„No, no, something’s not alright. You’re sad, Y/N, what happened? Can I help you?” He asked again and took a few steps towards you as you sighed and glanced down, trying to figure out what to say next.

„It’s nothing, Harry, really. You don’t have to worry.”

„Well, I do worry. I am worried, I don’t see my friend usually with teary eyes. You can tell me, Y/N, I’d like to be a good friend to you and help you.” He said as he tilted his head some more to be able to see your face as you glanced down. You focused your eyes back on Harry’s face and you could see the concern and care he had for you, the one Draco said you were so undeserving of. You didn’t want to tell Harry and be a burden to him but there was no point in lying.

„Draco told me a few new insults, nothing new.” You answered quickly, shaking your head dismissively and Harry furrowed his brow some more.

„I understand but you know not to listen to him.”

„I know.” You replied softly as you nodded your head and glanced down again, Harry still looked at you with concern and a bit of confusion.

„Then why—“

„I don’t know, it’s just been… A bit more personal this time.” You shrugged and sighed again, wiping the remains of your tears on your face.

„Personal?” Harry asked with a smaller voice as he watched you wiping your face, his concern growing, „Can you please tell me what Malfoy said to you?” 

You sighed yet again, feeling bad and uncomfortable about telling Harry this but he’s your friend, he deserves to know.

„He said that I don’t deserve love or respect because I’m a muggle. That I will be alone. He said that I didn’t deserve to be in Hogwarts, that I’m only a disgrace.” Only meant to be destroyed, you recalled Draco’s words in your head, the ache from them echoed in your heart.

Harry listened to you and nodded his head after your words, trying to think of something that could make this situation better for you.

„I see… Well, you know he’s lying.” He answered softly and you nodded your head.

„Yes, of course. But I can’t help but believe it, I am only a muggle, there’s not a lot of chance for me to be a great wizard.” You sighed in resignation and Harry tilted his head again.

„Don’t say that, don’t believe him. There are so many possibilities and potentials for you. You can’t just let Draco ruin them for you.” 

You nodded again.

„Yes, I know.” You replied shortly, your eyes wandering around the hallway as Harry still looked at you, his concern didn’t go away.

„Can I do something for you?” He asked a bit awkwardly as he shrugged, not sure what to do to cheer you up and make forget about Draco’s words. You stood in silence for a moment, not sure what to do either, everything felt so heavy. 

„No, Harry. You already did enough for me.” 

„Did I?” He asked as he raised his eyebrows and looked at you expectedly, „You’re still sad. I don’t want my friend to be sad.” 

You sighed, still feeling unsure about all of this. You glanced at Harry and flashed a small smile to reassure him but that smile didn’t reassure you. 

„I am but—“

„So what can I do?” He asked again, taking a step towards you, „Do you really think that Malfoy’s right? You really believe him?”

You shook your head but you did believe in Draco’s words somehow, you still felt that they were adequate.

„I… Harry, this conversation shouldn’t be this long.”

„Well, I want it to be long, I want it to be long and make you feel better.” He answered and paused for another moment. This was a bit awkward, Harry wanted to help but he didn’t know how and you didn’t know either, you just went in circles all the time. You both stood there in silence, glancing at each other from time to time with unsure faces, everything stood still. Harry looked at you once more and an idea formed in his mind but he wasn’t sure if it was a good one, it might make everything even more awkward.

„Do you want a kiss?” He blurted out and you looked back at Harry with surprise and shock.

„What?” You asked, Harry squirmed a little from the embarrassment, his eyes wandered off for a second and he brushed his hand nervously over his nose.

„Do you want a kiss?” He mumbled through his teeth as if it was a big secret, as if he was speaking the name of you-know-who. You still were a little caught off guard and confused by Harry’s proposal, would that make you feel better? You looked at Harry with confusion on your face, it was clear from your slightly furrowed eyebrows and your parted lips. Well, this is even more awkward, both of you stood there in another moment of silence while trying to figure out what to do.

„A kiss?” You spoke up and a small chuckle escaped your lips, making Harry look at you again with a bit of concern that you were laughing at him, „I don’t know, are you sure you want to?” You asked as you raised your eyebrow at Harry and he shrugged.

„I don’t see any harm in that. I’d like to comfort my friend and if a kiss would do it then I have no problem with it.” He replied, making you smile a little in amusement which was a relief to Harry, he liked to see you smile.

„Ha? Well, friends don’t usually kiss each other.” You said with a bit of playfulness, your tone much lighter than before, which made Harry smile too.

„No?” He tilted his head, „But who cares about that? It’s just a kiss. Would it make you feel better?” He asked with care, not wanting to do anything you wouldn’t want to do. You thought for a moment, kissing your friend out of the blue is a bit weird but maybe you need a bit of affection right now? And is it really that important? You both know each other and trust each other, maybe a kiss shouldn’t be weird, maybe it’s only weird because you think so.

You shrugged after a while.

„Maybe, we could… Try?” You chuckled a bit nervously and awkwardly with a slightly sheepish smile which made Harry feel a little better that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. 

„Sure, we can try…” he answered and looked at you for a while, making you both giggle a bit in amusement as he was taking his time, like in a romance book. Harry took a silent breath to himself to calm down and approached you, making you smile with more amusement. He got close enough to you that the tip of the shoe touched yours, he slowly lifted his hands towards your face and you let out a small snort, not laughing at him or mocking him, you just couldn’t take this too seriously as a friend. Harry smiled a bit at your reaction and shook his head.

„Shut up.” He mumbled jokingly and you felt his hands slowly and carefully embracing your cheeks, his soft skin sliding smoothly across yours with a small brush. The touch was nice, comforting, and gentle, it was just what you needed. You nodded your head at his words, trying to compose yourself but you couldn’t stop your lips from smiling. Harry looked at you for a second before he slowly started to lean into your face, tilting his head to the side slightly in a bit dramatic fashion, making you snort again.

„Oh, come on.” He sarcastically rolled his eyes behind his glasses, „I’m trying.”

„Yeah, you’re really trying.” You chuckled and he shook his head in a joking disapproval at your behaviour, the smile still present on his lips.

„Shut up.” He repeated and without a warning, his face approached yours much faster than expected, his lips pressed against yours with force but also care, making the sensation pleasant and soft. You stood there for a second, processing and taking in the feeling of Harry’s kiss, your eyes still open as his closed. The moment lingered for longer as you gave in and leaned your head a little more into the kiss, reciprocating it tenderly, making Harry smile a bit more. You both stood there for a while, linked in the most intimate affection one could share, your lips softly and carefully brushing each other as if you two weren’t friends. You finally closed your eyes, letting yourself drown in the warmth you two were sharing, the gentleness and kindness, your one hand left your book and carefully landed on Harry’s cheek, making him hum quietly in delight at your touch. The scene was tender and loving, to your luck no one was in the hallway at the time but if someone saw you two it would be clear that there were a lot of feelings between you two. Finally, Harry gently pulled away from the kiss and opened his eyes to look at your soft, peaceful face, your eyes still closed as you took a silent breath with your parted lips, the warmth of his lips still echoed against yours. Your hand still was on Harry’s cheek and his own hands were cupping your face tenderly, lovingly, his eyes taking in your features. You opened your eyes and looked at him, noticing how his cheeks got redder and how his eyes softened for you. You both looked at each other in silence before smiles starched out on both of your faces, your shared giggles and chuckles filling the cold hallway.

„Thank you, that helped a lot.” You spoke up with a lighter and happier tone than before to which Harry nodded with a smile, happy to see you smiling.

„No problem, Y/N. I’m glad it did.”

His hands still held your face carefully as if he had forgotten to let you go. But your hand stayed on his cheek too, both of you touching without a problem.

„My lips were chapped.” You remarked as you lightly pressed your lips together, feeling them a little rough after the crying. Harry raised an eyebrow.

„Were they?” He didn’t notice, he was much more focused on you and how wonderful it felt to kiss you. You nodded and felt how your face was dry after the tears soaked into your skin.

„And my face is dry.” You chuckled and Harry smiled even more, shaking his head.

„Doesn’t matter.” He replied, still holding your face in his hands, forgetting that he was your friend.

The next day everyone was filling the Great Hall as they continued their breakfast, talking and laughing together. Ron and Hermione were sitting together at your usual table, waiting for you and Harry.

„Did you see them the day before?” Asked Hermione the mouth-stuffed Ron as he ate eagerly.

„No,” he mumbled, „I haven’t. After me and Harry talked I haven’t seen him since.”

„What about Y/N?”

„Y/N?” Ron paused for a second as he tried to remember something, the girl in front of him looked at him with disappointment and disapproval, making him less willing to say, „I don’t know.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head.

„Honestly Ronald.”

„What?”

At this moment you walked into the Great Hall, not alone, Harry held your hand bravely and gently brushed his thumb against yours as you approached the two sitting at your table. A few eyes turned to you, one of which belonged to your bully. A whisper here, a whisper there, and soon almost everyone in the room was looking at you two. But you and Harry didn’t pay too much attention to the others.

Hermione looked at you two as you got closer, noticing your intertwined hands and she nudged Ron in the shoulder, making him let out pretensions „Ow”. 

„Hey.” You said to them with a smile as you got close enough, Hermione raised her eyebrow slightly.

„Hey, Y/N, Harry.” She greeted you two as you still held hands, her eyes switching between you two, „You two seem… Closer than ever.” 

You glanced at Harry who gave you a small smile and a gentle squeeze of your hand.

„We do? You must be seeing things, Hermione.” You said, trying to brush her off as you sat down on the bench, Harry following closely after you, sitting next to you.

„Oh? Am I?” Hermione tilted her head and Ron chuckled as he saw you two.

„No, if anything, you two are not telling us something.” He said as he gave Harry a knowing smile at which Harry sighed silently and looked pleadingly at Ron, making him laugh out loud. As Ron and Hermione tried to squeeze out of you two more information you didn’t notice how you were being observed by a pair of eyes burning with jealousy. He was sitting far away from you to not notice him and why would you notice him? You were too busy with Harry. He observed how your hands stayed linked under the table, how Harry was leaning a little closer to you, how he was looking at you. That should be me, he thought as his face tensed up in his usual scowl but his eyes showed more sadness and hurt than he wanted them to show. He looked at you longingly, desperately wishing that you’d notice his gaze and glance at him, even just for a second. He’d be so happy. But you were turned away, not acknowledging him at all, as if his words didn’t touch you at all, as if you earned more than lost. His soul was on fire, he was boiling with jealousy, rage, and desperation. But he couldn’t do anything, you’re still a muggle, he can’t do anything.

[marilynthornhilllover]

can you please make a fanfic we’re Larissa dies like in the show then wife reader makes and attends the funeral, but when she gets home she realizes that the front door to her and Larissa’s home was unlocked so she goes in slowly but she sees Larissa at the kitchen table drinking wine and Larissa says something like “miss me darling” and then some smut if you want. ❤️💋

Filthy love

Larissa weems x Fem reader

Warning: Angst, grief, sadness, slight anger, pain, lots of talk about depression, faking of death, smut, fingering, cunniligus, usage of toys such as : vibrator and strap, slight choking, kinda soft sex, praise kink, stalker kink if you squint, slight mommy kink, slight degradation kink.

A/n: I just want to say a HUGE THANK YOU to all of you who got me to 1,005 followers!! I'm so so so grateful and happy. I'm looking forward to continue writing fanfics for you all, thank you for interacting with my work and blog and simply liking my content and i am blessed to have each and everyone of you on board with me, sending love to you all also I hope you enjoy this 1k following special fanfic 👀💖.

There wasn't enough words in the English dictionary to describe the pain and emptiness that you were feeling as you stood over larissa's closed casket. There were no more tears left to cry. All you felt was emptiness, a never ending suffocating cycle of pure sadness, filled with rage. They say death has no sting and that it sneaks up on you and it's absolutely true. Nothing compares to what you felt currently.

You couldn't feel anything, you couldn't hear anything. It's like being trapped in the middle of the ocean with no air yet your still not exactly drowning, you don't want to drown but you refuse to be rescued out of the toxicity of the air.

You felt utterly numb. It's as if you too weren't alive, like a part of you died with her, and is to stay forever buried with her. Soon you'll have to thrown the first batch of sand on her grave, plant flowers two months later, listen to people express their condolences and state how larissa was a ' sunshine in a word filled with gloom'. Correct - absolutely correct. She was your sunshine in your world of gloom.

Truth be told you didn't deserve larissa - Or maybe larissa didn't deserve you. You'd always argue, she'd always stay at work. Nothing was simple, everything was so complicated behind the thick walls of your home. Fake bright smiles where somtimes even the Toothpaste couldn't clean the disgusting words you'd both spit at eachother behind close doors just to apologize minutes after with kept hatred inside.

It's as if you weren't there, but she was still here. It's not possible. She no longer existed and you wished you could swap places. She died so you can live but really and truly you didn't want to be here either.

The word is toxic and exhausting and larissa kept things joyful for you, always ready to sacrifice her happiness to see you smile. The memories of the good kept attacking your brain, handing in return instant headaches.

The first time you both laid eyes on eachother.

The time she asked you out on your first ever date.

The time she asked you to be her girlfriend.

The time she proposed.

The time she asked you to move in.

Right until the day you both said ' I do' the only soft, truthful words to ever be said to eachother. Maybe if larissa was here she offered up her happiness. You felt everything at once. It was all overwhelming. You wanted to be no where and here at the same time. The sadness you felt inside was unbearable yet no tears dared to escape..... they all stayed dried.

With a sigh you sniffed and made your way towards your seat, sitting besides Wednesday you flicked a warm smile towards her, you weren't sure if it was quite excalty warm though, after all your warmth was laying with her hands on her chest in a small, itchy casket. Larissa hated small spaces, if she was alive she wouldn't even be lying there now..... and that's how you knew she's really dead.

Because in the back of your head, there was a part of you that believed this was all a joke and that maybe thos was all a cruel prank to be played.

" are you ok?" You turned to look at the small girl besides you, forcing a smile you nodded. She definitely didn't believed you, to be honest who would?. Calling your heart broken would be an understatement, you don't know how celion dion sang that song because your heart definitely will not be going on without larissa. If you could have took her hand in death you would have.

"Til death do us part"

Wednesday truly cared for larissa, under her tough goth act there laid a heart of gold for the sapphire, Elsa blond hair and beautifully paled skin beauty.

You were once again broken from your trance as the pastor began to do his speech.

This you realized was your Roman empire, your own wife's death. You should really he celebrating her life but she hardly enjoyed her life. She was too tied up with work and you being on her back 24/7 percent of the time. She wasn't allowed space to breathe, well now she has more than enough.

After the pastor was done doing his speech you stepped on stage to say your urology - your last words. Taking a steady breath, and a long exhale you positioned the paper infront of you on the podium as you tried your best not to allow the tears their accompanied time frame.

" firstly, i want to thank you all for truly being here today so that we can honor our beloved and bright spark, Larissa Weems..... larissa was many things.... she was a principal, to some a English teacher. She was a daughter, a lover, a role model etc but t-to." You sighed as you looked down steading out your breath as your voice broke.

" to me larissa was much more than that in my life. I was a field of dead flowers before I met larissa, a-and she was like the sun that came out, bringing both warmth and healing into my life. She was and will forever be my hero that wore heels and my sunlight that brighten and made my life and day better. S-she never failed to make me smile or laugh, even giggle. I know to many of you she was so much more than just a sun.... she was the entire world even universe. And as we lay her to rest today I hope we all find the time to heal and be storng, because that's who larissa was, storng....."

Everyone sniffed, some clapped, most breaking down in tears. You never ment for anyone to shed even more tears or for any hearts to be broken any more than they already were you just needed everyone to find peace just as much as you wanted to find it as well.

After the funeral was over you hugged everyone goodbye and wished them a safe drive home as you also headed home, already planning to sleep because you couldn't accept the pain that you will feel after arriving home and realizing the house is empty.

As you pulled into the driveway you noticed the door looked pushed open. You weren't in the correct headspace but you knew for sure weren't crazy, you remember closing and locking the door perfectly well after leaving. After switching off the car and getting out you carefully walked up to the house - the mansion.

You fired all employees for three months with pay since you needed the time and house for yourself to simply be human and do human things which in this situation will be to grieve. Upon arrival you inspected the door before pushing it open and stepping inside slowly. If there was an intruder you'd rather catch them in the act, then call the police.

" hello?? Who's there? I suggest you just surrender now or I won't hesitate to call the cops on yo-" as you rounded the corner of the kitchen you saw larissa sitting on top of the countertop with her heels long forgotten on the carpet of the dinning room chair. Her lipstick was smudge as her legs swinged back and forth. She looked...... well not dead obviously. You knew for sure you weren't dreaming and she definitely looked very alive.

She moaned softly as she finished her wine and placed the glass down ontop the counter with a small cling. She sighed as a smirk was quickly painted across her face. You didn't know how to react. Maybe you should scream and run for your life, be happy and joyful or to maybe stay sad just incase this was your own mind manipulating you into a maladaptive dream land trance.

" hello darling....." She spoke in a low husky voice as her eyes flicked up towards yours, they were dark and swirling with desires for many things - things that you knew of and knew not of.

" did you miss me?" She asked as her eyebrows quirked up in a teasing manner. Your body stayed frozen as she jumped off of the counter and strides towards you very slowly. Her hips swayed as the smirk remained on her face. You could hear your rapid heartbeat in your chest with every closer step she took towards you, not breaking eye contact nor curving her lips into a non - smirk.

She finally stopped right infront of you as she tilted her head to the side, inspecting your face, possibly trying her best to read your every emotion as well as she can. As you looked into her eyes you saw, warmth, passion, love, peace, joy, everything that made larissa unique was swirling around in her sapphire iris, you felt your connection spark that you had with her ignite as her hands made their way around your waist pulling you flush against her body.

" I'm alive, my love. Long story but right now I think I'd rather cherish you" she whispered against your earlobe, gently pressing a kiss towards your neck before leaning back to look at your face, but again it remained blank because you did not have any reactions or emotions lingering on your face or in your eyes. It's like you were a statue, frozen before time.

Larissa chuckled softly, her hands making their upwards your chest Slightly grouping your breast making a moan escape your from the back of your throat. She grinned as she pushed you up against the counter. Despite all odds and questions that needed to be asked about everything that happened you needed her badly, she was like a drug that you needed desperately to live. You grabbed her cheeks and forced her lips against yours.

It took her by surprise but she quickly kissed back with the same equal amount of passion. You opened your mouth and gaved her access as she gladly took it by slipping in her tongue and using it to her advantage. Her hands traveled down your body wildly as she squeezed your ass and grabbed your hips harshly as she picked you up and took you to the bedroom.

She kicked the door open with her feet as she switched on the lamp light before throwing you onto the bed aggressively. She crawled up towards you and reconnected both your lips again in a heated, sloppy desperate kiss that spoke so much words that the lips could never utter.

You helped her take off her clothing as she helped you in return.

" fuck I need to taste you darling" she mumbled before spreading your thighs apart and smirking. She bit her bottom lip as she admired your baby pink lace panties before proceeding to pulling it to the side. She groaned as she saw your arousal spreaded all around your cunt as your puffy clit stared back at her. Larissa wasted no time as she enveloped her mouth onto your small bud immediately setting a fast sucking pace.

Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as your hands immediately flew to her hair pulling her even closer.

" your so fucking delicious darling" she purred as the vibrations from her speech made your shiver. Larissa used her hands to hold your thighs open to prevent you from squirming and bucking your hips as her tongue flicked back and forth against your clit in a rapid pace.

" f-fuck, larissa, I'm gonna cum." You whispered as she chuckled darkly, her hot breath on your cunt was driving you crazy. She knew fully well what she was doing to you. Your stomach twisted as you felt larissas fingers trace slow steady circles around your entrance that caused your back to arch.

" so needy for mommy huh baby, you need me to be alive to fuck you senseless" your brain began to get fuzzy, the effect larissa had on you was dangerous - deadly dangerous. Your grip in her hair tighten as your nails digged deeper into her scalp. Your eyes rolled back as she continued to violate your clit endless in the most oragam way possible.

You felt the knot in your stomach tied as it was ready to explode. Your other free hand gripped the sheets as you swore you were gonna leave holes in it.

" such a dirty slut for mommy darling" she cooed as she slowly thrusted her two slender fingers into you at once before pulling them out, and that was all it took before you cummed in her mouth. She removed her lips from your abused bud as she gently kissed it before leaving open mouth kisses on your hot sweaty skin all the way up to your lips.

She watched as you tried to catch your breath as you gently shivered.

" I'm not done yet princess" she whispered before leaning over towards the side table and pulling open the drawer, her hand rumbled around in there for a while before a pink clip on button vibrator cake evident in your eyes. Larissa smirked before snaking her way back down to your pussy. She took both sides of your underwear and pulled it down as you lifted your hips to assist her.

You spread your legs even wider for her. She looked up at you with an evil expression before attaching the vibrator to your sensitive clit. As soon as she turned on the button you collapsed onto the bed in pleasure. You moaned as her hand wrapped around your neck. She leaned down closely to your face, her lips ghosting yours. You leaned in to place a kiss onto her lips but she pulled away chuckling.

" such a needy little girl, letting me do what I want with her needy cunt" you gasped as she slipped her two slender fingers into your cunt, your eyes rolled back as you let out a sigh of satisfaction. You could hear as her fingers went in and out of your wet cunt with squelching noises and your sweet moans and whimpers for her. You were her bitch to fuck.

Her hold on your neck tighten even more as her pace picked up to something more brutal. You cried out as she curled her fingers in you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again that had you going dumb for her and crying. She loved the way your greedy cunt clench led down around her fingers. Your hips rocked back and forth desperate to meet her thrust.

" Come on darling, cum again for me" she cooed as she picked up her pace, pushing her fingers deeper into you lr cunt past knuckle length.

" OH GOD! MOMMY! P-PLEASEPLEASEPLEASE, NEED IT SO BAD" you screamed as larissa pinched your nipple before slapping it, feeling as your body quirked and trashed beneath her, as your cunt spasms around her fingers. You wanted to try to hold off your oragsm a little while longer, not wanting to seem ' truly desperate ' as a whore who just needed her pussy fucked every second of the day by her wife but you simply couldn't.

" I know you want to" she whispered in a sultry voice, and that was the end of you. Your back arched as you let out the most pornographic moan ever to be heard as you coated larissas fingers with your cream. She continued to fuck you through your oragsm until you couldn't take the overstiumlation anymore. She removed her fingers and cleaned them off with her tongue, keeping her eyes on you.

The way her tongue swirled around her everyone finger, licking up your juices that ran down her hand made your cunt throb. You gulp as you cleared your throat.

" I wanna ride you" you spoke lowly and larissa scoffed.

" go on, get the strap then you can fuck yourself on mommy big cock, maybe if we're lucky I can put a baby in you, get you all full and round with my baby" she groaned.

the thought along had you sprinting towards the closest to get the biggest strap with the most deepest curve possible.

And with this you knew tonight was going to be a very very long night....... hopefully one with pleasure and maybe when that's finished you can get the answers you deserve, because you didn't deserve all that pain and heartache.

[stariikis]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 009

synopsis ; based on the Chinese Drama, 'When I Fly Towards You', in which you, a going-on-high-school English genius named Huang Yuting meets the Mathematics genius of the 10th grade, Nishimura Riki, underneath the rain.

masterlist >>

“Yuting, Moka! What did you get into?” Sunoo lights up when he sees you and Moka leaving the classroom behind the many students filing out after homeroom. A sloppily folded piece of paper is in his hands, no doubt revealing which extra curricular he’s been accepted into. With just one glance at his bright smile, though, there’s no second guessing that he’s gotten into his desired one. 

“WE BOTH GOT INTO FENCING!” Moka screams in his ear, grabbing his shoulder and jumping up and down repetitively. “I DIDN’T GET INTO BASKETBALL!” 

Just then, a voice pipes up behind the three of them. Jungwon and Riki walk up, and the elder of the two pulls the lollipop out his mouth. “I don’t know you’re happy or upset about that,” he comments with honesty. 

“Obviously I’m happy… this one senior wouldn’t stop catcalling me when I went for trials. You know what freaked me out even more? The coach told me that I’d be a good addition to the team. I’ve never felt more scared to be accepted into something.” 

Jungwon appears not to have heard the last two sentences, his eyes wide with shock. “Who’s the senior? Does he need a beating? Absolutely disgusting?” 

You cock your head at him and frown. Since when has he ever been concerned about Moka’s well-being? Even Riki, usually expressionless, turns to look at him like he’s grown a second head. And he’s his best friend – he should know him the best, right?

Gawking at him, Moka shakes her head slowly. “No. You crazy.” 

Gratefully, Jungwon returns to his normal self and advances towards her upon hearing the derogatory term. “Who’s crazy, huh?” And they dissolve into an argument that doesn’t surprise anyone anymore. 

“Anyway!” Sunoo says chirpily, ignoring the cat fight behind him. “Riki, I bet you got into dance, didn’t you?” 

You swear Riki sneaks a glance at you and nods coolly. 

“When are your sessions?” You ask, refusing to let the conversation fall into awkward silence. Luckily, Sunoo’s around, and Riki tends to be more talkative with you when his friend is nearby. Well, Sunoo’s usually nearby, but that’s besides the point. The three of you walk down the hall together. 

“Monday and Friday, 3.15-5.15.”

“Mine are on Wednesday and Friday, 3-5!” You realise excitedly that one of the days clash. “I’ll come visit you on Fridays, then, after I finish.” 

Though you miss the way Sunoo jerks his body away from you both and gags, you don’t miss Riki’s soft smile down towards his feet, even as he nods slowly to distract you. 

Riki swipes loose hair away from his eyes, groaning as his legs give out and he collapses to the ground next to Jungwon. Vision blurry from the intensity of the dance he decided to showcase, he glances upwards at where his seniors are standing. There’s a flicker of pride in his heart when he realises that they’re all in awe, jaws dropped and frozen in shock. 

“That was amazing, how did you go on like that for five whole minutes?” The chairperson of the club comes forward, and she places her hand on his shoulder. He shrinks away from it, uncomfortable, and tries to shake away the dizziness. 

At that moment, the door swings open and Riki manages to make out Yuting and Moka entering. It’s 5.10, the clock reads, and they’re here to visit him and Jungwon just before the session ends. 

“Riki! Why do you look like you just died?” Yuting gasps dramatically. The chairperson of the club takes a step back, a faintly disgusted expression taking over her features. An off feeling about her settling in Riki’s stomach, he looks up at Yuting. 

“You try this dance routine for five minutes straight,” he teases her quietly, and gets up to his feet to show her the rehearsal video on his phone. Since the session is ending, the other students disperse and get ready to leave, but the chairperson remains and taps her foot against the ground impatiently. 

“Who are you?” she asks in a near snap.

Yuting doesn’t even bother to look at her before responding sharply, “somebody relevant to Riki… what about you?” which sends her off in a storm. How childish, Riki thinks to himself and laughs. But it’s not at all different from what he experiences with Jungwon and Moka. He’s seen the most of petty fights thinking back to them. 

“What’s got you in such a temper?” he hums, laughing your way. He’s glad she’s here. Leading her over to the side of the studio, he lets Jungwon and Moka fall into their usual banter. Flushing and following him eagerly, Yuting explains that she, too, has an off feeling about his senior. She then points at their reflection in the mirror, seeming to want to get off the topic. 

“You wanna learn it?” 

Riki gestures towards his phone, the video still playing. “I can teach you.”

And so they spend the next hour continuously collapsing into giggles when Yuting can’t execute a step without falling to her knees, and Riki has to repeat the same move a million times for her to finally get it. But an odd feeling overcomes him in a moment where he’s behind her, guiding her every movement. He enjoys the feeling though, fluttery and nervous, causing his hands to shake when he moves her arms to precision. 

Amidst all the laughter and gentle teaching, Riki comes to a conclusion when Yuting turns around and smiles his way. Suddenly he wants to burst into an animated story of what happened that day. Perhaps he’s only talkative with her around.

taglist (open)

@laylasmother @seunnimg @natalunae @enwonz @tomomorin @purplelxvx @suhiiiiiii @soobs-things @hwangism143

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[lemongizumo]

I didn’t want to make any public posts about what’s been happening in the past days in our fandom because of my health issues. Some of you know, mostly people I consider my friends now, others because I was offering emergency commissions to solve hospital and treatment costs, but my health isn’t that good lately and the level of drama, intensity and everything around this topic was affecting me. Still is a bit. However, after everything that has come out, so many similar experiences, so many people being manipulated, hurt and damaged because of this one individual who I considered my friend, I can’t remain silent anymore. I just can’t. I’m still shocked and feeling so many emotions, from sadness to concern, from disappointment to anger. Even guilty for not realizing how disgusting this person was. It’s unbelievable.

I won’t go into any details, those involved know everything that needs to be known. I will not share screenshots either but there are plenty to prove what this person tried to do until the end and how many people she damaged.

I became her friend months ago, around August/September of last year. I considered her a real friend, a good one even, she was nice to me all the time and talked to me every day for all these months. She bought my friendship with love bombing, gifts, with praise about my art and me, a fucking naïve idiot, thought she was sincere. I never noticed the red flags until it was too late, how she was collecting artists along the way and discarding the ones that weren’t useful. She was after popular people, writers and artists, anyone that could give her status. She wanted her name seen everywhere and she invaded every space she could. She also promoted her server to anybody who had big numbers or was known in the HG fandom.

I didn’t know anybody in the fandom, only some names I followed because I admired their art or writing. I always spent my days in any fandom as a spectator, doing fanart and having casual conversations but not getting close to anybody. She was the first person I let get close to me.

I trusted her and that was a mistake I’ll regret for a long time.

She took advantage of me not knowing anybody, she used me as a dumpster bin to trash talk about others, she played victim over and over again, she claimed some people hated her, and she made me believe so many things that I later discovered weren’t real. She twisted reality to her convenience; she created a false narrative where she was the poor victim who was attacked constantly and that she only wanted the best for everybody. She just wanted to be ‘nice.’

Knowing English isn’t my first language and sometimes it’s hard for me to understand certain expressions, she used that to be able to act as a bigot without me noticing until it was too late.

And I believed her. I believe every single fucking word she said about others, because why would she lie? She was just trusting me with things, right? She was just warning me about people, she cared about me, she was just looking out for me.

I’m a good friend, I know I am. Friendship has always been important to me, and I’m faithful to whoever I care about. I thought I was being a good friend to her by defending her and giving her my thoughts and opinions about all these ‘awful’ people who didn’t like her and were against her.

She just wanted an ally.

Her love bombing and praise only lasted until I didn’t act the way she wanted.

I confronted one of her ‘friends’ in her server after that person was exposing an innocent writer just to humiliate them. I was mistreated and attacked. She, the owner, didn’t do anything to stop it while I was telling her in dms what was happening. She didn’t do anything at all because she didn’t care.

She didn’t care either when I showed her proof that her friend was a terf. I was worried, I was so naïve I thought maybe this person didn’t know about her friend being transphobic. But she knew. She didn’t act surprised, she just did her best to clarify she wasn’t a terf ‘by association’ in between jokes and tried to justify her friend over and over again. She dismissed my worries and acted like it wasn’t such a big deal.

I trusted her to the point I felt safe enough to tell her I am autistic and how hard it was growing up not knowing that, how everyone treated me as if I was dumb when I was a kid and a teenager. Her attitude towards me changed after she knew my diagnosis. From treating me like I was a child to a condescending way to talk to me whenever I did ‘wrong.’

I supported her when she decided to create a BB just to be called silly and treated as stupid because I wouldn’t join if the terf was there. She simply didn’t care I was affected because I’m non-binary and trans. She just wanted artists for her shitty event because she needed to make a name among other events. She kept insisting that I join, even after she knew the terf was going to be a part of the event. She wanted me to be a pinch hitter artist.

I finally opened my eyes after my medical emergency in February. I decided to open emergency commissions to help with the costs and that led me to talk to people I never talked to before. People this individual didn’t want me to talk to.

I don’t know why things happen but everything seems to happen for a reason. Some people that reached out to me to help me were people this individual talked shit about over and over again for months. And to my surprise, they were nothing like I was made to believe. On the contrary, these people were sweet, nice, and were actually sincere.

Her reaction to me talking to them was passive-aggressive comments, jokily threats and playing the victim. She also started giving me the silent treatment in order to manipulate me again. Which, luckily, didn’t work.

This disgusting individual lied so much I have spent the last few days wondering how much of what she said was true and how much was bullshit. She tried to mess with friendships, she tried to ruin a relationship, she made racist and transphobic comments, she lied about so many people that didn’t deserve it, she thought her lies wouldn’t catch up to her and kept acting like a ‘mean girl’ who wanted to be number one in popularity. She thought having popular friends, who she bragged about, would keep her away from anything.

She thought she was safe and that I was stupid enough to keep believing her.

I’m not stupid. I never was.

And I will not remain silent while she still plays victim, while she decided to blame ME for all of her fucking mess.

When this whole thing exploded, she desperately tried to convince someone she wasn’t bad, that it was all a misunderstanding and that she was just venting to me. A good pity party because she was being called out and she didn’t expect it. She tried to convince them that I was to blame. She didn’t hesitate to throw me under the bus, to make anyone believe I was the villain, exposing me with screenshots, for all we know, were probably manipulated by her. It is now known that she edits, changes and deletes messages.

I’m not a villain for exposing the truth to people I now care about. To people who have been nothing but nice to me even tho they are aware I said awful things about them based on what this individual told me. She tried to brainwash me with her lies and almost succeeded.

The past few weeks have been hard. But it’s harder to see how many others she hurt.

She’s not a good person no matter how much she tried to act like one. Her disgusting behavior led to so much damage and she got me involved in it, using me until the end.

This behavior is not ‘fandom drama,’ it is dangerous behavior, one that should not be tolerated or accepted. Fandom is not a place to escalate in popularity, to surround yourself with popular artists just to get something from them. Fandom should be a safe place for us to enjoy, to escape from reality, from the real world that is hard enough for so many of us.

I will not let her step on me anymore. I will not be her scapegoat. And she will not get my sympathy anymore.

Please be safe out there, do not let these people harm us anymore. This individual and her fucking terf friend can go fuck themselves.

I am so tired.

[lina-lovebug]

Touch

Short fic: other Na'vi think Quaritch fifth finger in unnatural and weird but (Y/N) thinks it's fascinating and he let's her inspect it.

Warning: MAJOR FLUFF

@darthsabe

_

Quaritch stared into the fire before him, wandering exactly who he was. He's seen all the video diaries and heard all about who the real Colonel Quaritch used to be, but was he still him? He became what he has hated. He was now nine feet tall, and one of the Na'vi.

And blue.

"Demon," He heard a whisper from one of the Natives and looked up, seeing them stare at his hands.

Right. His hands. The Na'vi naturally had four fingers, but he had five.

Couldn't quite fully blend in.

"Where do you come from, Miles Quaritch?" The Na'vi girl who saved him, (Y/N), asked while staring at him.

While the rest of his squad ran from the Thanator trying to kill them, Quaritch was lost. He had run the opposite way and had encountered a Na'vi woman fishing for food as he plunged head first into the water. She revived him and brought him back to her village.

"The sky people," He revealed, really not having much to lose other than a son who didn't want him.

"Ah, so it is true. Your people have perfected making us," You were impressed he could have blended in so easily, but the clothing and extra finger and speaking English gave it away.

"Why are you here? Taruk Makto sent you away, did he not?" Jake Sully. God, he couldn't escape him.

"He did, but sky people are greedy. Our planet is dying, and we want Pandora."

"Could you not have come in a more peaceful way?" You were genuinely curious. Your people had only engaged in violence when Taruk Makto had asked you to fight, but since then, your clan steered clear of them. You were travelers, never staying in one place for too long, and you were lucky enough to encounter a sky person this time around.

He chuckled, "If we see something we like, then we take it. Something we just can't seem to learn."

He started to get self conscious about his hands and felt all eyes on them. So hid them away in his pockets, trying not to explode at them.

"Like a baby," You mused, offering him a fruit.

"Nah, I'm good," his stomach grumbling loudly gave him away.

You giggled, "I will not poison you. Besides, all that running works up an appetite."

"How do you avoid those fuckers?" Not paying attention, he grabbed the fruit and started to eat.

"You run," you shrugged, "you can not tame one of them like you do Ikran."

"Hm," was all he said, the juices of the fruit running down his hand, and he wiped it on his pants.

"Disgusting."

"Demon."

His ears folded back, feeling self-conscious, and he dropped the fruit on the floor before getting up and walking away.

"Miles Quaritch, wait!" You got up, following after him but your hand was grabbed by your mother.

"Daughter, he is dangerous," She warned.

"So am I," you tore your hand from her and followed his footprints. He didn't walk fast, so it was easy enough to find him and stop him.

"Miles Quaritch, stop!" You grabbed his hand and he stopped in his tracks. His eyes looked down at your own hands.

"Thank you for the hospitality, Princess, but it seems I'm too different for your people-"

"Can you blame them? They are scared of another outbreak of war, but you. . .you feel different," Something about him just made you feel drawn to him. Your hand still hand onto his own and he pressed your palms together.

"I've done a lot of bad shit (Y/N). Shit I wish I could take it back, but I know who I am, and they know too. I'm not Taruk Makto - I can never fit into a clan or a tribe. Thank you, again, but-"

You grabbed his extra finger, feeling vulnerable, but you didn't care.

"I do not care who you used to be. Eywa brought you here for a reason," and before he could scoff and say anything else, your other hand reached up and cupped his cheek.

"I see you," you expressed, "but are you willing to see who you are?"

He was breathless. A Na'vi woman he just met just fucking read him like a book, and he hated it. A Marine shouldn't ever be in such a vulnerable position. . .but would a Marine ever willingly become a Na'vi?

With a chance to change?

His ears folded back and he merely nodded, not knowing what else to say.

You smiled.

"First things first is to get you out of such weird clothing," You began to walk back, hands still intertwined.

"We just met, and you're already trying to take my clothes off," All you did was laugh it off but seeing the physique of this sky person turned Na'vi didn't sound so bad.

[kapyushonchan]

My (not so) short review that nobody needs hear for this update - KFOS and SOCN

*sighs* Boy, where do I start?

TLDR: KFOS and SOCN turned out disappointing. This is my personal impression, reasons below, warning - lots of letters.

KFOS - first, my minor pet peeve - I don't like that they stopped giving cutscenes with the favorites except Christian. Ram, Kamal and Sara have much fewer of them with Devi compared to him. I also noticed that the cutscenes have lost quality? Just close-ups? I've had the impression before that stories that drop in the rankings get less resources.

Second - I think Stasya doesn't "feel" the story yet, because the only emotions I experienced while reading were my disgust and tension during the dinner scene.

Well also Doran turned out well, his not-so-passive agression with wishing a long life to the queen (especially in the context that he can't express his displeasure with Englishmen directly and he can't kill them all, so he turns to caustic sarcasm) is just slay king energy.

Third - and here starts my rant - a lot of interactions feel artificial and underwhelming. Devi's confrontation with Clara in the street seemed just like that - artificial and not really well thought out. The concept of the scene itself is good - Devi sees how Indian servants are bullied in Britain and lashes out. But the tone, the consequences that author chose to portray is just.... Devi just pulls Guy Richi and shuts the racist arrogant lady up. Yayslay, but… was it me or it was underwhelming?

RANT

Come to think about it, you didn't have to go to Britain to see that behavior (or all those Indian movies I watched and a few books I read kind of misled me). AFAIK this attitude was common in occupied India, as some of the British upper and not so upper class moved there to occupy and make easy money there. They built districts to their taste and style - all those clubs and establishments where Indian servants worked and where Indians were not allowed to enter. The police, too, were subject to the British. This apartheid and humiliation could be seen in India at every step, but Devi notices it only in England? And, bear with me, but I really think she couldn't just go to a high society lady and berate her for the way she treats her servants without some consequences to her and to Christian reputation. Devi has not changed Clara's mind with this argument, and she certainly will not change the mind of the whole of English society, which stands on the opinion of the exclusivity and superiority of the British Empire over all nations that have not risen to the level of their greatness. That's how empires work. Devi's act was from the good heart, but impulsive, and she would be spoken of not with respect but with contempt, saying that Christian had chosen “a rude savage” as his bride. Because Devi is not at home. She is in the land of her enemies. Because the whole thing was truly none of her business and it's not her servant, and also doing that she could have made things much worse for the servant-girl and for Christian's reputation (breach of etiquette! that Devi likes to bring up when someone's rude to her). And in this situation it doesn’t matter how angry Devi and we as readers would have felt, because we are in a different world and we’re not making the rules there. We should be uncomfortable with this scene, we should feel anger and frustration in this scene.My point is that the scene would have been more realistic if at its outcome Devi was faced with indifference, condescension and judgment, as if Devi had done something wrong (she hadn't, she just ended up in a world where such attitudes were the norm). Devi should have felt like she was in the Looking Glass, she should have been thrown off balance by the situation. Girl power slay in the style of "I'm Basu and who are you?" doesn’t work here. Or rather it doesn't give you a nuanced outcome of the situation. Even if Devi had come out of the verbal confrontation victorious in her own eyes, society would have gaslighted her. And because of that sence of powerlessness, her anger would have gotten even greater, and she would have actually cursed Clara with the help of the Dark Mother. And Devi would realize that she can't behave in England the way she did at home. It must be infuriating, annoying, but it's something she and we as players have to put up with. It resonates with us, we have to feel these emotions. I would read, of course, how the heroine deals with injustice, but if we have a story about colonialism and the Dozen trying to throw off that yoke, why aren't we shown such scenes in all their colors? Because mere words and knowledge of the etiquette are not enough. I also think Devi's connection to the Dark Mother's anger could have played out as a sort of Death Note, where Devi curses someone and then misfortunes happen to those cursed people.

I think the artificial tone of the story is my main problem with season two in general. Devi finds herself in a foreign hostile country, but now she's acting like Amala in India and by simple demands she shuts up the lords and ladies left and right just by demanding respect and they just listen to her and shut up. And it looks like a safe route, like there are no stakes there. And with change of the “location” we have to feel discomfort - but not with food, weather and new clothes, but with a feeling like we’re walking on eggshells. Devi, in a conversation with lord What's His Face, intimidates him with Christian, and he stops harassing her. But then the same lord makes a shapito show of provocation at dinner, showing that he doesn't give a damn about Christian's opinion and doesn't give a damn about him in general. I'm not saying there shouldn't be provocation, it shouldn't have been so brazen and direct in words. After all, English high society can masterfully insult in a veiled manner, and the author's skill in writing such dialogues was clearly lacking here. Imho (just my imho) storywise here, in England, Devi should realize how lucky she is to be a member of high Bengali society where she is respected, valued and listened to, when in England she should feel that she is looked down upon, trapped and treated worse, like a second-class person, no matter what her background is. Here, if you are on a route with Christian, there should be a test of his and Devi's feelings in the context of the contempt of the entire upper class society for the "second class people" as they see Indian people to be. Christian has to experience that he has become a pariah in some way by choosing to marry a Devi.

I may have a misconception of how things worked back then, but my thoughts are that it's like all the tension is gone from the story. And there should be - it's a story essentially about two factions who hate each other, who don't want to make contact and settle because it's a story built on a colonial takeover. It's toned down here, yes, it's not historically accurate and all, BUT: if this base of historical events gives you an opportunity to use a great source of conflict, disagreement, and drama - you use it (that's why the provocation with beef at the dinner resonated with me -  I was fuming!). And alas, I'm feeling less and less of all that. Especially after the first season that SLAYED.

Also, Devi's offer to Doran to team up with Christian, to use him, would have looked different and even more tense if those political and social nuances worked, and their interaction wasn't just some game of "who knows more". What kind of games are these anyway, they're on the same side, behind enemy lines. Devi could have shared her frustration with her experience in England with Doran and then open some cards to him and admit that they need Christian's resources to determine who's sowing turmoil in the Dozen. There could have been some great GOT-style dialogue here, not just the "The Executioner despises the Englishmen and therefore won't even consider it, he needs to be persuaded", but "The Executioner has been through enough in his life to know that if there's a chance, you have to take it, politics is always played dirty". Doran is described as intelligent after all, not just angry walking muscles.

Well, that's just my thoughts and impressions, you're free to disagree with me here. I'm probably asking too much from a visual novel, I never read them with a magnifying glass to look for nitpicks, but…. But I really liked KFOS S1 ._. And I'm sad for the untapped potential.

SOCN - I was disappointed too. I think Remy's original idea to write that Agnia and Amen attack Livius and Eva but were saved by Seth worked better.

Now, it's friendship and magic, no conflict and drama. The two sides of the conflict resolve everything man-to-man, blow off steam and agree on everything.

And I have the feeling that all the seriousness of the situation has gone somewhere and everything has descended into some kind of farce.

Okay, Amen using Livius and Eva to achive his goals still works fine. But Seth, who fights Amen for fun and then agrees to cooperate with him - no. Just no. It's seems OOC. It doesn't work. Even if he's weakened like a God. Even if he needs Hemseth so much. Seth is a god, he has pride and principles, and there's no way I believe he'd choose to work with someone who kills his followers and weakens him. Neither will Amen agree to work with Seth who he thinks is some kind of Supreme shezmu. He hates the Supreme. He wouldn't go for an alliance either.

Has the writes watched too much of House of the Dragon? WHERE ARE MY CONFLICTS I'M ASKING YOU I'M GOING TO START A SCANDAL

I thought that Remy's decision that Amen and Seth couldn't be friendsto MC like the other favorites had to do with this intransigence, but no, some other reason.

What's the point of not being friends with the favorites if everyone's drinking beer and making truces with each other???