#even though we know absolutely nothing about him i still think there's a pretty obvious analysis that tommy was jealous of the 118 because

[eddiegettingshot]

i'm the prev anon n felt like i should clarify i was just joking of course (making fun of people talking like that about mr. tommy). like obviously we know he has other interests! and i can't imagine with what we did see of him in 7x04-7x05 that people can honestly believe has no friends. he just goes to fights and does muay thai and plays basketball and then sits home by himself the rest of the time? be ffr people

LMAOOO i got you dw. but like yeah there are people who literally think he'd just be lost and alone w/o buck lol

[heirofnight]

finally

pairing: azriel x reader

word count: 4.6k - this one's a doozy, buckle up.

based on this request: Hi hi can I get an angsty Azriel x fem!reader fic. Basically they’re mates but they don’t have the best relationship for whatever reason. Rhysand sends them on a mission somewhere and somehow Azriels mind gets taken over and he attacks reader. She doesn’t want to leave Azriel even though he begs her to before he lost control because despite everything she did love him. Reader ends up getting hurt but was thankfully able to reach out to Rhysand in time. Rhysand then clears Azriels mind from whatever was done to him. Azriel ofc beats himself up over it, but then they kiss and makeup.

content warnings: talk of death, reader gets attacked, choking

a/n: this was a TRIP to write. for all of you requesting angst, i'm serving it on a silver platter. i hope you love it! first time writing a fic based on a request, so i hope i did it justice. let me know what you think! as always, lightly edited. pls ignore any mistakes <3

"are you serious?", you spat out, scoffing in disbelief. you crossed your arms across your chest immediately, your body language depicting just how frustrated you were.

azriel stood next to you, keeping way too much distance for a male that was apparently, allegedly your mate.

some mate, you sneered within your swirling mind. you'd both still refused to accept the bond, and if anything, it had just made the already avoidant relationship between the both of you even worse.

you were convinced that this was some sort of divine mistake, there was simply no way that azriel was your mate. we have absolutely nothing in common, another brief thought that had you glancing at him from the corner of your peripheral - just to find him standing in the exact same stance that you currently held. arms crossed, body language defensive, expression stoic.

you cleared your throat and quickly dropped your arms to your sides, straightening your spine before meeting rhys' violet gaze once more. his eyes sparkled with amusement, knowing exactly what you were thinking. whether you were that transparent, or he had actually caught you with your mental shields down - you didn't know. the wards within your mind were the least of your concerns right now.

"i am absolutely serious, i'm afraid", rhys smirked, enjoying the entertainment of watching both you and azriel spiral towards an inevitable juvenile skirmish. especially at his own hand.

azriel huffed a frustrated breath, his shadows becoming more frenzied as they ebbed and flowed around his body. you glanced at him once more, noticed the way his wings had drooped in defeat. you found yourself beginning to admire his side profile, his sculpted, pretty features calling to you in a moment of weakness. you quickly averted your gaze.

you'd never claimed he wasn't attractive, that much about him was painfully obvious. and since he was - unfortunately - your mate, there were moments where it felt as though every fiber, cell, and atom of your body were screaming for his. you'd wondered if he ever felt the same.

"rhys, this is ridiculous. there is no reason for her to join me. i never have help on missions - i never need it," his words grew more strained as he spoke, his last words ending in a near-snarl.

you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, throwing your hands up in exasperation before letting them slap against your thighs. "oh, i'm so sorry, azriel. how could i possibly offer any significant knowledge or assistance with this job, when you're already the most wisest, skilled, and capable male ever gifted by the gods? how can any of us forget - we pale in comparison to the all-feared shadowsinger," your tone was mocking as you turned towards him, cheeks reddening in exasperation.

azriel met your gaze, eyes narrowed as he deadpanned, "most wise".

you narrowed your own gaze to match his, "what?", you scoffed out.

"you said most wisest. that makes no sense. i believe you meant most wise," he stated dryly, tone emotionless.

your cheeks reddened further, expression twisting into one of pure anger. it didn't help that you heard rhys struggling to hold back a bark of laughter.

"okay, honestly, fuck yo-", you began, ready to spit pure venom straight into his veins with your words.

"enough," rhys commanded, voice booming. you froze, huffing out a breath before looking over at the high lord - he was now standing, his hands braced against the surface of his desk. his eyes held no amusement, no laughter. he was fed up.

"you are to both deploy on this mission. you are to both work together to track down this rebel group of daemati, and you are to both report back here with your findings. you keep each other safe. you work together. and you stop this childish bickering," rhys stated, his tone taking on a quality of pure nobility.

he looked between both you and azriel with striking violet eyes. "you leave tomorrow. am i clear?", the high lord questioned, and you knew he required an answer.

"yes," you and your mate replied at the same time, in the same brooding tone. rhys quirked an eyebrow at that, smirking slyly.

"great. have fun, you two," he gave a swooping gesture with his arm in dismissal.

the next morning, you and azriel departed right after breakfast. it was a shared - albeit silent - meal, and you found yourself glancing up at him behind the rim of your glass every single time you took a sip. you didn't know it, but azriel was sparing you the same glances as he ate his porridge.

the rebel group of daemati were last known to be located near the northern edge of the day court's borders - nearing the court of nightmares. the plan was to teleport close to the border itself, and you and azriel both knew that you'd more than likely have to track them from that location to wherever they were now.

you'd left from the house of wind's balcony after eating - azriel reluctantly placing a large hand on your shoulder before teleporting you both in a blanket of darkness and swirling shadows.

once the shadows dissipated, you'd found yourselves in a chilled, heavily wooded patch of forest. you blinked a few times, gaining your bearings. before your eyes had even fully focused on where you were, azriel was stalking off to your left, already on the prowl.

you rolled your eyes, jogging after him in order to catch up. "is your plan to 'accidentally' lose me in the woods?", you sneered, your legs burning as you tried to keep up with his long strides. you crouched down hastily to avoid a low-hanging branch that almost collided with your cheek. you'd been too busy glaring at the side of azriel's head to notice it.

he huffed, his boots crunching against fallen leaves. "keep up, and you won't get lost," he offered, his shadows darting out ahead of him to scout the surrounding area for traces of your target.

you grumbled, eyeing his smoky tendrils as they swirled in different directions. "prick," you said under your breath, pushing another branch out of your path.

you could have sworn you saw the corner of his lips quirk upward at your comment, an action that you would have almost found endearing if it weren't for the current situation you found yourself in. as much as you didn't want to admit it to yourself, you were nervous. you'd never been on a mission, especially not one that felt as high stakes as this one. daemati were dangerous. able to enter, control - and if trained enough, completely shatter - minds without so much as blinking. sure, as a scholar, you'd had brief knowledge on how to handle their kind, but coming across one daemati was rare - much less an entire pissed off group of them.

this could end terribly. and you did not want to be the one to sabotage this outing.

one single coil of shadow darted back towards azriel, whispering against the shell of his ear. "this way," he pointed to your right with a scarred hand, and you adjusted your path accordingly. you found your gaze following his hand as he lowered it to his side once more, and azriel glanced down, noticing where your eyes had landed.

he felt his pulse quicken, not sure what to make of your sudden interest in his hands. it was already an insecurity of his, and he knew that you'd not be shy to prey on that fact.

he cleared his throat, running that same hand through his hair in order to break your gaze. you inhaled a sharp breath, realizing you'd been caught. you opted to stare straight ahead instead, the normal silence between the both of you now feeling awkward.

should you say something? you didn't want him to think you'd been looking at the skin of his hands in disgust. it was the furthest thing from the truth. and while you weren't the hugest fan of his, you would never think poorly of him in regards to his trauma.

"i -," you started, clearing your own throat now. he glanced over at you from the corner of his eye, not urging you to finish.

"i've always thought they were beautiful - your hands," you said sincerely, voice nothing more than a whisper that you were certain a gust of wind could carry away on a breeze - never to be heard.

he took a deep breath, blowing it out through his nose harshly.

"thank you," he said softly, nodding once.

a lifeline, that's what it felt like.

my mate, he thought to himself, trudging forward.

you'd both continued on in comfortable silence for the next few hours. the bundle of nerves in the pit of your stomach was beginning to unravel, and you had to admit: you felt safe with azriel. not that you'd assumed he'd leave you for dead at any point during this mission - at the very least, rhys had commanded he return you to velaris safely. even if azriel somehow personally wanted you dead, he wouldn't defy his high lord's orders.

regardless, you were beginning to feel safe alongside him on your own accord.

a few times, you'd attempted to speak. pointing out various birds that you'd seen perched in the high branches of trees, or remarking on types of flowers that you'd walk past - many of which weren't native to velaris. azriel would notice the way your voice perked up as you spoke of them, noticed a certain kind of wistful joy that crept into your eyes, widening your pupils.

his own gaze began to soften as he observed you, finding your wholesome awe endearing. he listened carefully as you passionately explained each finding. cute, he'd thought briefly, warming up to your company. your hair whipped around you on a stray breeze, a strand catching right across your nose. his hand twitched, the urge to effortlessly brush it from your face filling him to the brim. but before he was able to build up the courage to do so, you'd beat him to it, and his hand stilled.

you were just about to point out yet another bird flying across the dusk-dusted sky when a familiar tendril of shadow approached azriel's ear.

"silence," he whispered in a hushed tone, halting his steps. he tensed up alongside you, his wings pulling in tightly at his back.

you closed your mouth, swallowing what you'd meant to say. you froze in place slightly behind him, waiting with shallow breaths for his next order.

"up ahead," he whispered, nodding his chin towards what looked to be a plume of smoke rising into the chilled air. your eyes followed the path of his gaze, and you squinted to make out the scene before you.

azriel crouched next to your still-standing form as he attempted to get a better look from a different angle.

it appeared to be a campsite of some sort - whoever was stationed there had clearly decided to stop traveling for the evening. the sun was quickly lowering behind the mountain range in the distance, and the air was even more frigid than when you'd both begun your trek. you felt a shiver wrack through your body, and azriel glanced up at you, frowning slightly.

he watched as you studied the growing fire before the both of you, his gaze lingering for just a second too long. you looked down at him, your eyes meeting for the first time all day. your breath hitched at the eye contact, and you faltered for a moment.

"so do we-", you spoke quietly.

"let's just-", he spoke at the same time.

you smiled warmly, dropping your head and huffing out a laugh.

he smirked, grabbing your wrist gently to pull you down to his level. "my shadows picked up on a few daemati tracks. i'm assuming its a small group - they must have decided to stop here for the evening. i'm guessing it's four, maybe five of them," he explained in a hushed tone, his eyes finding the campsite once more.

you thought for a moment, observing him.

"so, what's the best way to go about this?", you asked, voice soft.

he was about to reply, but his body froze, mouth poised to speak but nothing emerged.

there was a momentary pause before his expression transformed into one of pain, pure agony. he grunted, bracing his arms against the ground beneath him. his eyes were screwed shut in pain.

you startled, falling back onto your butt as you took in the scene before you with wide eyes.

no, no no no.

you supposed your brain knew what was happening before your body could react.

and that's when you felt it, a stifling, world-ending level of pain - unrelenting pain that felt so real, so true. but it wasn't your own pain. it was azriel's, through the white-hot golden bond that tethered the two of you together. until this moment, azriel had made sure to keep his emotions sequestered from you - you had done the same. out of pure spite, disdain for the cauldron's decision to fuse the two of you together for eternity.

until this moment. when azriel opened the floodgates of his own mind, letting you in. warning you.

"az," you breathed out, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder in gut-wrenching fear.

he gritted his teeth, letting out a horrible groan of distress.

"leave," he gnashed out, his voice strained. he let out another roar of pain.

you shook your head, eyes wide and pained.

"no, azriel. no. i'm not," you said sternly, voice watery.

"y/n," he forced out, nails digging into the dirt beneath him as he fought the intrusion of the daemati.

"y/n," he repeated, groaning once more, "it has me. it's going to make me hurt you," he strained, "you have to go. contact rhys, and go," he fell onto his side, wings flaring in exertion.

you scrambled towards him, placing a hand on his forehead. your heart was beating so rapidly, you were half-expecting it to leap from your throat and join azriel's form on the dampened ground.

all you could do was shake your head, over and over and over.

"no, no, no," you whispered, eyes filling with tears. you felt a fear so absolute, wholly understanding right then the pure agony that crawled into every crevice when the person on the other end of that golden rope was in danger. you couldn't leave him, you refused. every fiber of your being rebuked the thought. you peered down at his writhing form, his face pinched in pain. he was still the most beautiful male you'd ever seen.

you let out a gutteral noise of distress. you wasted so much time - so much time resenting azriel. fighting with him. throwing jabs at him. hating the gods, the cauldron, for linking the two of you. for what?

all that time wasted, and now his mind was no longer his. you would never get to express your love for the male before you - never get to experience the love that the both of you so immensely deserved.

"azriel," you choked out, pressing your shaking hands to every part of his body you could possibly touch. you glanced up, surveying your surroundings quickly. that's when you saw him, the daemati.

he'd kept his distance, but you made out the shape of his dark form within the trees. you couldn't even see his face, but you could clearly see the way his head tilted to the right, unnaturally slow. he was using his powers to fully infiltrate azriel's mind.

but your mate was putting up a fight. your strong, powerful mate.

azriel was doing everything within his power to not succumb to the daemati's will, his body feeling like it was going to split in half. the pain, the unrelenting, bone crushing pain, was enough to make him wish he could somehow force himself completely unconscious.

and still, through it all, he could not tear his thoughts away from you. a dangerous game, as he was dealing with a species of fae that was literally able to break into the walls of his mind, utilizing his deepest fears against him.

and right now, his biggest fear was losing you. hurting you.

he roared out, blue siphons blazing, vibrating against his skin.

one singular mantra stamped itself through his mind as he attempted to fight off the daemati clawing at his iron-clad wards long enough to convince you to flee, to leave him there to suffer alone - just as he always had:

my mate, fight for your mate, keep her safe, fight for your mate, keep her safe, my mate

you froze, mesmerized by the form that was tearing azriel's mind apart chamber-by-chamber.

then, it happened, and it happened quickly: azriel, now fully under its control, lunged toward you. he tackled you backwards, into the dirt and leaves beneath the both of you.

you screamed, bracing your hands against his chest. you dared to look into his hazel eyes, orbs that were no longer his own.

what you saw terrified you. pupils blown wide.

death himself.

a large, scarred hand found its way to your throat, and you thrashed wildly beneath him. he was unphased by the fight you tried to give him - he was too strong, and you were too scared.

rhys, rhys please, you chanted into your mind, hoping somehow he'd be able to hear you. it was a long shot - you knew that. you'd never once communicated with rhys mind-to-mind, but it was your only chance.

you were going to die at the hands of your mate. and it all felt so ironic, since azriel hated you anyway.

rhys, please, your pleads grew frantic, and azriel's hand gripped tighter around your neck.

the edges of your vision began to go dark, and you grabbed azriel's chin, peering into his eyes with all of the strength that you could muster. "azriel. it's me. it's y/n - it's your mate. please, az. i'm so sorry for everything," you strained against his grip, throat tightening. you wouldn't be conscious for much longer. if there was any chance that he - the real him - could hear you, you had to try to get through.

"i'm so, so sorry, az," you spluttered out, eyes growing heavy.

you sent one more plead to rhys through your mind before everything went dark.

your eyes fluttered open slowly, a groan leaving your throat before you were even fully awake. your neck ached, the skin there burned. your whole body felt tense, tight, and stiff.

you blinked, eyes heavy, trying to take in your surroundings. you recognized the ceiling above you, knew that the soft sheets pulled up to your chin were the ones adorning your bed at the house of wind.

you were home. you were alive.

the events with azriel, the forest - the daemati - came rushing back at full-speed, leaving you breathless. you tried to sit up, but your entire body screamed with the sudden movement.

fuck.

"there she is," you heard a familiar silk-coated voice. rhys. you glanced over towards the sound, and found the high lord perched in an armchair next to your bed.

"rhys," you spoke hoarsely. he stood then, approaching your side with feline grace.

he smiled down at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

"quite a fan of the dramatics, aren't you, y/n," he teased soothingly, taking a seat on the side of your mattress gently. "you had all of us frightened half to death," he added, surveying your face as he took note of your current state.

you groaned quietly, raising a hand to feel at your throat. it was obviously bruised - you didn't need to see it to know that.

"azriel," you whispered hoarsely, shaking your head to yourself. you were safe, so surely azriel must be too ... right? the thought of anything otherwise had your stomach lurching. you felt for the bond, felt for azriel's presence, and were met with emptiness - just like you had been until the daemati attacked.

"azriel is just fine, y/n," rhys spoke gently, a knowing tone in his voice. "i heard you, that day in the forest. i arrived just in time. it took a few days, but...," he trailed off, moving a strand of hair from your face, "but i was able to completely heal az from the damage the daemati caused," he finished, letting out an exhale.

you felt tears springing to your eyes immediately, unable to control your reaction to the news. "i'm so sorry, rhys," you choked out, a shaky breath escaping through your nose.

"now, now," he soothed, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. "none of that, none of that at all," he continued, eyes softening as he met your broken gaze.

"you did nothing wrong, y/n. you stayed at the side of your mate, even in the face of lethal danger. you summoned me," he paused for a moment, watching you.

"you didn't allow him to experience that alone. and while you staying there may not have been the ... most wisest ... thing to do," rhys teased, referencing your last conversation amongst the two males, "i still commend you. i, myself, have not made the smartest decisions where feyre's safety is concerned," he wiped another tear threatening to cascade onto your sheets.

you let out a watery laugh at his teasing, shaking your head.

"he hates me, rhys," you whispered, eyes finding the ceiling once more.

rhys let out a dry chuckle at your statement, sighing to himself.

"on the contrary, y/n, i think you'll find that az feels the complete opposite," he whispered, voice lilting.

you met his gaze, eyes narrowing.

just then, there was a gentle knock on your bedroom door. one that was made with the intention to not disturb your sleeping, healing form.

the door opened, and azriel crept in, wings pulled together against his back in order to avoid jostling any of your shelved belongings. he was trying to be as silent as possible, not yet aware that you were awake.

"i brought a glass of water, rhys, just in case she wak-," his words caught in his throat once his eyes made their way to yours. your opened, very awake, eyes.

"i have some very important paperwork to attend to," rhys spoke. "numbers to run, high lord duties - things of that nature," he grinned slyly, removing himself from your beside and strutting towards the door. he turned back towards you before leaving, bowing his head once. "i'm glad that you're okay, y/n. please let me know if you need anything," he said gently, before making his exit.

azriel still stood off to the side, frozen. his eyes were fused to the bruise that spanned your throat - a bruise that was in the shape of his own hand.

"hi," you whispered hoarsely, clearing your throat.

"i'm so....- i am so fucking sorry, y/n," azriel whispered, stunned. his grip tightened around the glass of water in his hand, and you were momentarily concerned that it may splinter under the pressure.

"az," you began to speak, scooting your body up against the row of pillows propped behind you. "we both know that none of this is your fault. you fought it, i saw-," you pleaded, eyebrows cinched.

"no," he cut you off, voice stern, but quiet.

"no," he repeated, stepping towards you. "i should have never allowed rhysand to send you out on a mission this dangerous. there is no excuse. i could have killed...", he trailed off, approaching you almost hesitantly, as if he were scared to get too close. "i could have killed you," he finished, voice strained and full of regret.

you shook your head, reaching for him now, and he approached you. a moth to a flame. he set the glass of water down and allowed you to take his hand. the same one that was wrapped around your neck just days ago.

"this hand, a hand that i find so beautiful, this hand that belongs to you - my mate - would have never done this to me. and i know that," you whispered, tearing up once more.

he dropped his head, wings drooping - the very tips touching the floor.

he squeezed your hand once, sitting on your bedside dejectedly.

"i heard you," he whispered after a short pause. "i heard you begging me to stop. i just couldn't -,"

"i know," you cut him off, not wanting him to spiral into a pit of despair that would engulf him entirely.

his shadows began to lazily twirl around him, a few breaking away from his body in favor of worrying over you instead.

he loosed a deep breath, staring at the floor for awhile. you allowed him to ponder, think through all of the horrible events of the last few days. as awful as your attack was, you couldn't begin to imagine the toll it took on azriel. his mind was infiltrated, ripped apart, and his body was no longer his. you could not even fathom it.

"the daemati made me attack you because he knew we were mates. he sensed the bond. and ...-," he trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, "he knew how important your safety was to me. he got into my head, and into my thoughts. he saw how important you are," he whispered, finding your eyes.

your eyes shut, a tear escaping from the corners. he reached out a hand, a sure hand.

he wouldn't allow another moment to pass where he wanted to touch you, but held himself back.

you felt him wipe the tears away, his touch so gentle, it made your chest ache.

"i am sorry, you know," you whispered, sniffling. "i'm sorry for all the shit i've given you. i truly never resented the mating bond as much as i let on. it was just-...", you shook your head, eyes fluttering open once more to find his honeyed gaze. "it was a defense mechanism, because i knew you didn't want the bond, didn't want me, and i didn't want to look stupid - pining after a male that was ashamed of me," you rushed out, cheeks tinting pink at the confession.

his brows furrowed, and he huffed out a breath as he shook his head slowly, "y/n," he started, letting out this dry ghost of a laugh - although it lacked any humor. "no, that's not it at all. i was ... elated, to learn that you were my mate. but i thought that you wouldn't want me. after all this time, i'd come to terms with the fact that i would never ... never find my mate. our paths wouldn't cross, or i'd somehow get myself killed before i could find her," he paused for a moment, shaking his head. "but, no. i was ecstatic. especially because it was you. so full of fire and strength. beautiful - agonizingly so. your excitement for life radiates from your very core. i was, and still am, so proud to have been paired with you. i couldn't have chosen anyone better," he admitted, his eyes soft and full of adoration.

you were absolutely crying now, and your grip on his hand tightened as you let out a soft sob.

"we're such idiots," you croaked out, a hand coming up to cover your eyes.

he let out a soft laugh then, his own eyes becoming watery.

"perfect for each other. two idiot mates," he offered, a real, true smile spreading across his dimpled cheeks.

you laughed along with him, bringing his scarred knuckles up to your lips to nuzzle along them softly. the action made azriel still for a moment, and you felt an overwhelming wave of full, adoring emotions and bright, fizzling warmth hurdle directly into your chest. his emotions. he'd opened his side of the bond once more, but this time, for a very different reason. your wide eyes found his, and you returned the sentiment. you sent every ounce of love, unbridled and true, right into his chest. his breathing became ragged, his bottom lip quivering at the feeling. he was so loved, and gods, so were you.

you tugged on that golden string that was directly connected to the pit of his chest, tied right around his heart. he leaned towards you on instinct, and he knew at that moment that he would follow wherever you led him.

"my mate," he whispered, reaching down to press a soft kiss to the tip of your nose.

you tilted your head up slightly, your full lips finding his own.

"finally," you whispered against his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to his waiting lips.

a/n: well, this one took 3 hours and cracked me in half along the way. if you made it this far, pls lmk what you thought! thanks for reading <3

[kp-alice]

The Fall of the Undefeated One

Summary: Your boss is the epitome of a workplace bully, pressuring everyone to work overtime even through sick days and family emergencies. Most infuriatingly, though, no one has ever dared to go against him - until now, that is.

AKA blackmailed boss!sub!Yunho x sadistic!dom!f!reader

Word count: 5 505

Warnings: While I made it obvious multiple times that this is all roleplay, I still want to give a huge warning for !!!!!CNC!!!!!, blackmailing, forced feminization, pegging, taking photos during sex, crying, begging and just resisting in general (though Yunho is just pretending obv), blowjobs (f rec), Yunho gets slapped once, checking in on each other mid-scene, some pretty dark dialogue (esp at the end)

A/N: This fic is the fifth part of my sub!Yunho Kinktober 2024! The event's masterlist can be found here.

"So you're absolutely, totally, one hundred percent sure you want to do this?"

"I've only told you like fifty times but yes, I am definitely, completely, one thousand percent sure."

"And you'll tell me if you want to stop?"

"Just like you'll tell me if you want to stop."

"Alright, then. See you next Friday, 'boss'."

You were sitting in your office, checking various reports and scheduling meetings for next week as usual. As Mr. Jeong's secretary, you had your own office instead of sharing a cubicle with other employees. It didn't stop you from chatting with them during lunch break, however, which led you to some very interesting information.

Contrary to your initial belief, it wasn't just you who your boss decided to be extra stern towards. As you quickly realized, the entire department was permanently overworked and underpaid, all thanks to the one man at the top. And the most infuriating thing about it all? No one dared to stand up against him. Even if they were living off 3 hours of sleep every day, even if they were denied holiday to visit their families in a dire situation, everyone just hung their heads low and obliged. The company had an incredible reputation, after all, and nobody wanted to lose a chance to write it down in their resume during their next hunt for a job. And even if someone did decide to stand up for themselves, all it took was the smallest, vaguest threat from Mr. Jeong about how other hiring companies would hear about this behavior and all protests would immediately cease.

There was nothing you could do about it, either. All you could do was just watch on as the bullying went on, shaking your head in quiet disappointment.

Until you'd also been wronged by your boss.

"What do you mean, 'paid overtime'?" Mr. Jeong mocked you right to your face. "What you call overtime, I call the bare minimum, sweetheart. I don't care if your mother is sick or your rent is past due, you only get paid for the work you've done, no charity. If you think this is too much for you, feel free to leave anytime. Don't expect to be hired anywhere else, though, every reputable company around here would love to hear my opinion on your performance before hiring you."

You were stunned, rage quietly boiling within at the audacity of the asshole in front of you. Every day for the past month and a half, because of his impossible demands, you'd been working two to four hours extra just to meet each deadline. You barely had time to sleep, let alone actually live your own life and talk to friends and family, and this is how he decided to treat you?

"Glad we settled that, then. Now go make yourself useful and bring me those copies from yesterday's meeting, will you?"

That day, you decided that your boss, Mr. Jeong Yunho himself, would pay dearly; both for what he'd done to you and to the other workers.

For the next three weeks, you dug through every file and article you could find in the office and online, desperately searching for anything big you could use against him. And, by some miracle, you found one. A real big one, in fact.

This was it. You had him in the palm of your hand, even if he didn't know it yet.

A knock came at your door, making you look up from the report you were currently working on.

"I expect to hear a very good reason for coming here right this instant, Miss L/N," was the first thing he said as he walked into the room, visibly angered. God forbid he had to approach someone for once instead of everyone crawling to him.

"Oh, don't worry Mr. Jeong, I'm sure you'll find what I'm about to tell you very interesting," you smirked as you spoke, gesturing for him to sit down on the small couch near your desk.

"Get to it then, darling, I really don't have time for this," Mr. Jeong commanded, yet again slipping a condescending pet name in to try and throw you off. Typical.

It wasn't you who was surprised, however, when you suddenly stood up, walked over to the door, and locked it. "Be patient, Jeong. If you don't want to fuck up any more than you already have, I suggest you behave yourself."

His mouth hung open, fully taken aback by this new attitude of yours. Perhaps you had a death wish, speaking to him like that, or maybe, you had just gone completely insane. Either way, he was excited to show you why you should never, ever, do that again.

But before he could say anything, you were already back at your desk, turning your laptop to face him.

"As your hard-working and thorough secretary, I've gone back on some reports and files from this year, and you'll never believe what I found!" You said with fake excitement, eyes shining. "If you look really closely, you can see each worker's salary, and then here is the amount of money they should have actually been given each month according to the government-mandated minimum wage. Care to explain why those numbers are vastly different and why none of us were notified about a raise in salary, Mr. Jeong?"

Yunho's eyes widened as he scanned the document, recognizing the spreadsheet he'd secretly made for himself to keep track of all the cuts he'd been taking from everyone's salaries. He could have sworn he'd kept the file fully private, likely even password-protected, yet, somehow, you'd managed to get your hands on it.

"Why are you- how did you get that?!" He finally said, trying to suppress the sudden anxiety churning his stomach. "Those are private files and you have no right to be looking through them! Go pack your things immediately, because you are fired - and I'm being very merciful with that decision."

"Oh, if only it was that simple, Jeong," you replied cunningly. "You can fire me all you want, but once these files go public, your reputation, company, and maybe even life will be over, I'm afraid. And we wouldn't want that now, would we?"

Yunho gritted his teeth, looking down as he considered his options.

"...Alright. What do you want me to do?"

Despite your best efforts, you barked out a laugh at his question, too amused by the cold facade he was still fighting so hard to keep. "There we go, finally on the right path! You're not the one making demands here, Jeong, I am. If you want to preserve everything you've managed to build so far, you better start listening to me and me only."

Yunho let out a deep, frustrated sigh, refusing to admit you were right. If any of this information were to get out into the public, his entire professional life would be over in an instant. Just as you'd said, he was completely at your mercy right now.

"Well, what do you want then? Money? A promotion? A transfer to a different company? What?"

"Strip."

...

Yunho's entire world paused the second you'd said it, freezing him in place. He had to have heard you wrong, right? There was simply no way you could have said something like that to someone like him.

"W-what?"

You let out a sigh yourself, frustrated with how uncooperative your superior was being. This was the guy demanding Herculean tasks from his subordinates on a daily basis?

"I said strip, Jeong."

His breath hitched at your angry tone, chest tightening to an almost painful degree.

"Y-you can't be serious, there's no way that-"

"What part of 'I can ruin your entire career in seconds' did you not understand?" You spat, sending a shiver down Yunho's spine. "The company or your pride, your choice."

A heavy silence hung in the air for an uncomfortably long time, turning Yunho's cheeks a deep red. He didn't know what was worse - the fact he was actually considering doing it or the fact that you knew he was considering it, judging by his lack of a response.

"...How much?"

You looked at him in confusion, swinging one leg over the other before leaning closer to his nervous form. He was clearly nervous, playing with his fingers, one leg bouncing up and down.

"'How much' what?" You finally asked back.

"How much do I have to take off?"

You snorted at the question, making him look up into your eyes. "What do you think, Jeong? Just stand up and start undressing; I'll tell you when to stop."

Yunho gulped at your words, eyes shaking. Never in your years of dating had he seen such a cold, sadistic expression on your face. Somehow, it was both incredibly intimidating and extremely arousing.

Trying his best to ignore his trembling hands, he stood up on two weak legs and reached for his suit jacket. A whimper threatened to spill past his lips as he finally undid the first button, feeling like he could just break down and cry right now from the overwhelming humiliation.

"Oh my god," you marveled, leaning back to enjoy the show, "you're actually doing it! And here I was worried I'd have to threaten you with something even bigger, yet all it took was a few words and you're already doing whatever I say."

"You know very well it's not just a 'few words'!" Yunho hissed indignantly. "If my entire future didn't depend on this, I would never-"

"Shut the fuck up and do as you're told before I get angry, Jeong," you growled back, making him immediately back down again. His hands were visibly shaking now, eliciting a few quiet curses from him as he struggled with the remaining button.

At last, he was able to get the garment off, looking at you to see if he could stop now. But your expression remained stoic, leaving him with no other choice.

Tears of humiliation stung in his eyes as he began working on his shirt but he bit them back, absolutely refusing to cry in front of you. Soon, the shirt joined his discarded suit jacket on the floor.

"Wow," you said appreciatively, unabashedly ogling his chest. "Who would have thought the office asshole had such nice tits. This is even more fun than I had imagined."

It took every ounce of willpower in him not to react to your comment, desperately wanting to but knowing it would just make everything so much worse.

"What are you waiting for?" You asked impatiently. "I didn't say you could stop yet, did I?"

"Miss L/N, you can't possibly be serious-"

"What would your family think if they found out how you treat your employees? Your father is a reputable business owner himself, isn't he?"

"I- well, yes, but- fuck," Yunho muttered to himself, trying not to let the growing despair take over. His pristinely ironed pants pooled around his feet before he stepped out of them and gave you one more hopeful look. When he was met with nothing, he sighed, taking off his socks as well before looking up again. Surely, this had to be enough, right? Right?

Silence.

Yunho's hands shook at the realization of what the silence implied, unable to bring himself to remove the last piece of clothing he still had on. Your gaze on him was unwavering, watching his every move and expression like a hawk ready to swoop in.

Which is why you also noticed the signs of genuine anxiety in him very quickly.

"What's your color, Jeong?" You asked as neutrally as you could, not wanting to fully break the scene but still wanting to check in on him.

"Green, it's green, I just-" Yunho took a deep, shaky breath, balling his fists by his sides, "I just can't get my hands to listen to me, I'm sorry."

"Listen, Jeong," you began, standing up to approach your shaking lover. "I'm going to be very generous right now and take it off for you, okay? But you can't expect me to help you with everything you're the one in trouble. Understood?"

Yunho gave you a quick, thankful nod, lips pressed into a thin line as he watched your fingers slip under the waistband of his underwear. Then, in one swift motion, you tugged the garment down, leaving him completely bare in front of you.

"There you go," you whispered softly, stepping back to admire the view. Yunho's hands did their best to cover himself but it was not exactly effective, considering your amused face. "What? Feeling shy? Don't worry, sweetheart, I have just the clothes for you."

Yunho was confused by the sudden, surprisingly nice gesture until he saw the clothes in question.

"Go on," you encouraged, shoving the clothes into his arms, "make yourself pretty."

A tear rolled down his eye as he looked at the mix of pink and white, but he quickly turned away and wiped it off, still trying to keep some semblance of dignity.

"Now, Jeong," you began, back in your office chair, one leg crossed over the other, "I'm going to give you a choice. I'm afraid you have no say in what's going to happen next, but you can decide how it will go. Do you want it the easy way, or the hard way, hm?"

Yunho meekly sat on the couch, keeping his hands in his lap to prevent the pink skirt from riding up even higher than it already had. The white thigh highs on his legs didn't do much to keep him warm, sending small shivers up his spine.

"The easy way, please."

"Good boy," you praised him, though there was no actual warmth to your words. "Close your eyes and don't open them until I say so."

Yunho complied, feeling like this was one of the simpler tasks you could have given him, yet it also gave him no clue as to what to expect. He didn't dare think about what might happen, fearing you were going to subvert his expectations anyway.

And subvert them you did.

"Open, Jeong."

Yunho's mouth hung agape as he looked at your hips, fully bare save for the leather harness secured around them. What stood out even more to him, though, and quite literally at that, was the silicone cock fastened to said harness.

"Come over here and get on your knees, if you'd be so kind."

Yunho was yet again frozen solid, unable to process what he was seeing. "I-I'm sorry, but have you gone absolutely insane?"

You chuckled at his incredulous tone, taking a step toward him. "Oh? I thought you just said you wanted to do this the easy way, what's with the attitude?"

"I don't know if you forgot who the fuck I am, L/N," Yunho gritted through his teeth, leaning forward to try and match your tone, "but you better snap out of this power trip right now or-"

"Or what?!" You finally snapped, startling the man back into his seat. "What are you going to do, Jeong? Lose your entire career because you were too proud to be under someone for once? Is that what matters to you the most?"

Yunho panted as he looked at you with nothing but disdain.

Letting out a sigh, you gestured back to your laptop, clicking over to the next tab in your browser. "Since you couldn't play nice, let me up the ante a bit. If you look over here, you can see a few emails that are ready to be sent at any minute. A lot of them, in fact. Wanna know who they're addressed to?"

He stayed silent, refusing to play your disgusting games.

"Don't worry, I'll tell you anyway," you grinned, scrolling down the list. "Here we have each of your family members, every single employee in your company, your 20 biggest competitors, journalists, workplace inspectors, and a few dozen more big contacts. With a single click, they'll all learn the truth within minutes, evidence included."

Yunho's face fell at the sight. "Y-Y/N, Miss Y/N, please..."

"Begging won't change my mind, Jeong," you spat, leaving the tab open as you walked back in front of him, "but actions just might."

Tears once again threatened to spill past his eyes, throat squeezing uncomfortably tight as he suppressed them. He couldn't cry. Not like this, not in front of you.

Swallowing back a whimper, Yunho slowly shuffled forward, all the way to the edge of the couch, before sinking down to the floor. You watched on with a satisfied smirk, lips curling even further up as his eyes met the fake cock in front of him again.

Oh god, he was really going to do this.

Trying to keep his hands as steady as possible, he reached for the strap-on, feeling it under his fingertips before wrapping a hand around the base. Angling the tip to his mouth, Yunho closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh before finally diving forward.

You stared at him in awe as his lips wrapped around the sizable tip, brows furrowing while he tried to push deeper. "There you go, good boy," you praised in a sickly sweet tone, resting one of your hands in his hair. His other hand that wasn't gripping the base of your cock fisted his skirt instead, likely trying to keep his gag reflex at bay while he sunk further down.

When his lips met his own fist, he let his throat rest for a bit, trying to breathe as best as he could despite the big piece of silicone in his mouth. After a few long, uncomfortable seconds, he decided to start moving again, giving a few experimental bobs with his head. On the fourth one, though, he audibly gagged, throat spasming while he quickly dove back up for air. You silently watched as he coughed and gasped for air, leaning to the side with his palms against the floor.

Once he got his breathing under control again, he looked up at you, meeting your gaze for the first time in a while. You smiled back down at him, a genuine smile this time, and used the opportunity to mouth a quick "All good?" to him. His eyes sparkled in excitement as he happily nodded back, calming any potential worries.

A quick tug at his hair was all it took for him to snap back into the scene.

"Did I say you could stop, Jeong? We haven't even gotten to the main course yet."

Just as Yunho began asking what you meant by that, he was shoved back onto the dildo, giving him no more than a second to prepare. You slid back into his mouth with ease, not too deep to make him choke, but deep enough to get his attention again. "Or do I have to show you another incentive to keep going?"

With a small grunt, Yunho shook his head as best as he could given his position and got back to work. He made sure you saw as he diligently sucked on the tip, swirling his tongue around it before pushing further down. If he had no choice but to do this, he might as well get it over with. Soon enough, he could almost take the whole thing in his mouth. You caressed his hair gently, a small show of praise that wouldn't break the scene too much.

The hand in his hair quickly turned more domineering, however, as you suddenly tightly clutched the strands, warning him of what was likely to come.

His prediction turned out to be spot-on as you began to pull him back up by his hair, only to push him back down again and start all over. Yunho could do nothing but let you move him as you wanted, desperately willing his lungs and throat to calm down so that he wouldn't choke again. Or too badly, at least.

Small, wet sounds filled the room as you moved him up and down on the strap-on, using both hands now to steady his head while you picked up the pace. A tear or two rolled down his cheeks this time, but you knew it was no reason to celebrate just yet. These were just a natural response to you fucking his throat, not a sign of you actually breaking him.

That would have to come later, it seemed.

"On the couch," you ordered curtly, pulling him off you at once. He was left hunched over, face bright red and lungs heaving for air.

Once your words finally registered for him, he willed his limbs to move again, crawling up on the couch. You wasted no time with him anymore, manhandling him into the desired position.

As much as he hated to admit it, Yunho's fight was faltering. His tightly clenched jaw had relaxed, giving way to the tired pants leaving his body. All snarky remarks and threats were long gone, his head too much of a muddy mess to come up with anything smart to say. You could feel it too, how much more pliant he'd grown under your touch, letting you press his upper half into the couch cushions.

When he heard the click of a bottle cap opening, some of that fight rushed back, only to leave just as quickly with a single reminder from you about what was at stake for him.

Yunho let out a quiet grunt as a finger breached him from behind, still hell-bent on hiding his reactions from you. He knew you'd revel in it, in every moan and beg and whimper, which is exactly why he could never give any of it to you. Until that dam broke, he could pretend he still had some dignity left.

"I advise you to relax as much as you can, Jeong," you spoke softly, burying your finger inside of him to the last knuckle before pulling back again, "otherwise this is going to hurt quite a bit."

"You're sick," Yunho spat back but quickly shut up again as you pressed in a second finger, causing a whine to almost push past his lips.

"So? What are you gonna do about it?" You asked back. The satisfaction within you only grew when he had nothing to say to that, too scared to admit the truth.

So far, Yunho was faring quite well. The biggest sign of this having even the slightest effect on him was how hard he was gripping the couch cushions, but that was about it. And it was exactly because of that that you began to grow bored.

Time to make him speak up.

Curling your fingers, you began angling your hand this way and that way, until-

"Fuck!" Yunho cried out, involuntarily clenching around your hand. You watched as his thighs quivered and his back arched, trying to simultaneously push back against you and fight the urge to do so at all costs.

"What was that?" You taunted, focusing on that specific spot you'd found while your other hand roamed along his hip. "Is someone starting to enjoy themselves? And here I thought I was the sick one?"

"Shut- ah! Shut the fuck up!" Yunho moaned out, eyes tightly shut as he tried to fight the onslaught of pleasure. He knew he couldn't help it, that it was just his body's natural reaction to being stimulated, and yet, he couldn't help but feel betrayed by it as well. He fought so hard to keep any and all noises at bay, only to then completely crumble without any say in the matter.

Then, without warning, your fingers pulled out of him, leaving him empty and clenching around nothing. Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to get up, to run far away from whatever the fuck this was, yet his mind knew very well it would be of no use. Not when your hand was back on his hip again, bringing his ass closer as you poured more lube over his hole.

"Hmm, no, this won't do," you thought out loud, looking at the way Yunho was presenting for you.

In the blink of an eye, he was flipped on his back, legs forced apart to accommodate you between them. Your strap was now peeking at him from behind his own half-hard cock, making his cheeks heat up. How was that thing bigger than he was? Moreover, what the hell were you planning to do with it?

"Say cheese!"

A bright light flashed into Yunho's eyes, making them squint in discomfort. When they managed to refocus, however, he was met with a sight somehow even more horrifying than all the evidence on your laptop.

A camera.

You were holding a camera and taking photos of him with it. Photos of him in a state like this.

"W-what are you- what?" Yunho stumbled out, voice laced with genuine horror.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Jeong?" You asked back, flipping his skirt up to show his prepped and needy hole. Another click and a flash of light.

The third snap finally managed to break him out of his trance, and his hand immediately shot up to grab your wrist.

"Ow! What the-" You hissed out in pain, almost dropping the camera to the ground. "That shit's expensive, you idiot!"

Yunho either didn't hear your words or simply ignored them, too busy trying to wrestle the camera from your hand. Doing sexual favors for you to save his business was one thing, he was already too deep in to stop that, but this? Oh, no, no no no, he was not going to just let you get even more dirt on him. Sure, he might have sold his body today to try and save his career, but he was NOT letting you trap him into a vicious cycle of blackmailing. He knew exactly how these things went, he knew you wouldn't be satisfied with just today, he knew you'd just keep demanding more and more from him and that-

A sharp sting dug into his cheek, the force of the slap turning his head to the side.

"I fucking told you to let go!"

The tight grip on your wrist eased up as you broke Yunho out of his spiral, preventing him from getting too deep into whatever inner chaos he tried to enter. His confused eyes met yours, studying your stern expression for a moment before he settled back into the scene, giving you a small nod as a sign to keep going.

"Before you try any of that shit again, I'll have you know that all of the photos I take on this are automatically backed up on my laptop. Breaking it does nothing except piss me off even further, and I don't think you want that, sweetheart."

Your hand slid up to grab his face, squishing his cheeks together.

"Now just accept your fate and let me take my pictures, hm? I don't think you want these to end up on the news tomorrow."

Yunho had no words left. No matter how his mind tried to twist this, there was no lie left that would convince him he had any sort of upper hand in this scenario. From the moment he walked into your office, his fate was sealed. Unlike everywhere else in his life, he didn't hold any power here. No amount of threats or intimidation could ever get him out of your grasp unless you yourself decided to let him go. He was yours to do with as you pleased.

All of those thoughts swirled around in his head as he lay under you, dressed like a girl, his entire body on display while you took as many photos as you wanted. He almost started to leave his body for a second, feeling too helpless to stay present in the moment any longer, but the feeling of cold, wet silicone pressing against him stopped him from doing so.

"Please..." Yunho said so quietly you almost didn't hear it, but it made you smile nonetheless.

"Please what, Jeong?"

Yunho took a deep breath but choked on it midway through as, finally, the first real tears spilled down his cheeks.

"Please don't do this, please."

Your pupils blew wide open at the sight before you, feeling a sudden high you'd never felt before. He - your boyfriend, the man everyone knew as a strong, independent, reliable guy, was now crying under you, lips trembling as he begged with a wobbly voice. Thanks to all the reassurances throughout the scene and the obvious hard-on between his legs, you didn't have to worry about his comfort or safety, letting you truly focus on the mental rush you were currently experiencing. The insane amount of trust between you felt almost palpable in that moment, an indescribable wave of tenderness so twisted yet so sweet it was almost overwhelming.

"Just let it happen, Jeong," you finally breathed out, eyes lidded as you reached down between the two of you. "Just let go and take it."

Yunho let out a watery whimper as you finally breached him with your strap, not caring to hide his noises anymore. He had nothing more to lose, after all.

The atmosphere shifted into something more quiet and subdued, yet simultaneously a thousand times more intense. Just like him, you had no more condescending comments and mean remarks left in you as everything had already been said.

Yunho was yours for the taking, and take you did.

With each snap of your hips, you pushed him further into that soft, pliant headspace of his. You could feel his muscles relax, going almost limp from the rush of it all. There was nothing in his head anymore, nothing but the physical sensations you were providing. More tears escaped his eyes as you leaned closer, hitting that sweet spot inside him with even more precision. Yunho rewarded each jab at his prostate with a small, punched-out noise, too hazy for anything more than that.

You watched his hips buck up when you wrapped your free hand around him, the other pulling him towards your thrusts by his hip. His breath hitched at the sensation, face scrunching up as you began to stroke up and down.

"Ready to cum, babe?" You whispered tenderly, causing him to open his eyes again.

"Yes, please," Yunho sniffled weakly, reaching up to grasp your shoulders for support.

Getting your sweet boyfriend over that imaginary edge took no more than two minutes after that, already too pent up from everything up until now to hold it any longer. You held him close as he seized up, chest arching into yours while he spilled into your hand.

You reached behind you for the tissue box on your side table, careful not to jostle Yunho around too much. He wrapped his legs around your waist, feeling too tender and small to let you go.

"Don't worry hun, I'm not going anywhere," you comforted him as you turned back around. You quickly wiped your dirty hand with one of the tissues before leaning forward and dabbing his tears away with another one. Handing him a third one, you helped him lift his head up to blow his nose before throwing all three tissues into a nearby bin.

As much as you wanted to debrief with him right then and there to make sure he really enjoyed himself, one look into his eyes assured you he was nowhere near ready for that right now. He looked content and comfortable, sure, but his eyes were still too distant for any complicated discussions and introspections.

So, you simply asked him what to do next.

"Can we just cuddle for a bit?" Yunho asked meekly, a small pout on his face as he extended his arms out for a hug. "We can clean up and talk after, but I just really need you right now."

You took him up on his offer with zero hesitation, snuggling into his embrace as close as you could. The position was a bit awkward from your position, given you were still lodged inside of him, but oh well.

A few minutes of curling up with your precious love bug never hurt anyone.

taglist: @justconniez @domribo @another-random-fanfic-blog @imrllytootiredforthis

Thank you for reading! And remember, feedback is always very appreciated! <3

[withahappyrefrain]

For Drabble 2:

NSFW PROMPT: “Don’t hide from me. Let me see you!” w/ Mr. Tyler Owens 🤠

So I know this is supposed to be smutty but I got in my feelings for Tyler and insecure!reader. Talk of body image issues, language, Tyler being a real sweetie.

The bed was squeaky, the sheets accompanying it appeared to be knitted but in reality they were scratchy, and you were pretty sure there was cigarette smoke dusting the walls.

Normally you'd complained. Except the person you would complain to was currently pressing kisses into your neck.

Alcohol can make you do strange things, like karaoke or confessing to your coworker you had a huge crush on him.

You didn't think Tyler would tease you, he wasn't like that. At most, you were expecting a subtle acknowledgement of your slip up and for it to never be brought up again.

Sure, Tyler was flirty. But you figured he had to be that way with everyone; he was so charismatic. That's why you never thought anything of it when he commented on how great you looked, or how he would place a hand on your waist when he was passing by.

So when he confessed he felt the same way, it was shocking to say the very least.

His hands felt huge as they skimmed your body. His breath was a mix of bourbon and mint, no doubt from the gum he chewed while driving you back to the motel.

"You're so soft," he murmurs, voice hot on your skin, "Fuckin' love it."

Tyler's words make you feel warm all over. You can feel the pit of desire forming in your stomach.

His fingers found the hem of your dress, toying with it.

"Oh, we don't have to..." You began, the idea of him seeing all of you under these lights mortifying. He could pass as a Calvin Klein model and you were just.....yourself.

"Do you want to?" He asked, piercing green eyes staring into yours.

You want to, God, did you want to.

But that would require him to see all of you.

"Yeah, I do," you paused, "If you want to."

Maybe he would want to save it for another night. That would give you time to eat light or even go workout beforehand.

Instead he just smiled, "I would."

Fuck.

Okay, you could do this. Just get up and turn off the lights. Then he can't see you and you won't have to focus on what you look like. Besides, he wouldn't mind.

"Where ya goin'?" His question caused you to freeze, like a deer caught in the headlights.

"To....turn off the lights?" Wasn't it obvious?

Tyler's brows knitted together in confusion, "Why?"

He was actually genuine. Great.

"Y'know....." You motioned to your body, "So you don't see.....y'know."

Now Tyler was offended. You were absolutely gorgeous, why on Earth would he not want to see your body?

Better question, who the fuck made you think that?

That was what caused his face to soften, "Hey, c'mere."

Timidly, you walked towards him. His hands encompassed yours. He pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you. The gesture was so heartwarming, it made your eyes begin to water.

"Can I make a confession?" You nodded, signaling for him to continue, "I've thought about doing this with you like every day. With the lights on."

"I'm sorry," you began, but he shook his head.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. Just don't hide from me, okay? I wanna see you. All of you."

You nodded, though hesitation still ran through your veins.

"Would it help if I took my clothes off?" He offered.

You snorted, "Honestly, no. You're all chiseled and I'm just.....soft."

Tyler tried to hold back a chuckle, but failed. Hearing the sound made the tension leave your body, your shoulder relaxing for the first time in the last ten minutes.

"Alright, then we'll just start slow. Tell me stop at anytime, alright?"

Which is how you found yourself lying on your back, dress pushed up to your plush hips, and Tyler in-between your legs.

His tongue was fucking talented, and not just for explaining meteorology.

Your hands gripped his soft blonde hair as he lapped up your release. Even after you had cummed, he still continued his ministrations, as if he was determined to pull another one out of you.

His lips wrapped themself around your clit as his fingers traced your entrance. Once it had gathered enough slick, he thrusted a finger inside you.

Your walls clenched around him, welcoming the intrusion. Soon another digit joined as he angled his fingers to ensure they reached the spot that made you see stars.

White hot pleasure sent sparks throughout your body, starting at the pit of your stomach, all the way down to your toes and fingertips. You heard the bed shift and creaked, but didn't register it until you felt Tyler's lips against yours.

His tongue slipped between your lips, allowing you to taste yourself. His fingers still thrusted in and out of your core, only now at a lazy pace. The edge you had been teetering over was now slipping away.

"Tyler," his name came out as a whine, "Need-"

"I know, pretty girl," somehow that twang of his was more pronounced, "But I need ya to do something for me before you can make a mess on my hand, 'kay?"

You nodded, barely registering his words, your hips too busy trying to cant upwards in an attempt to get more of his fingers.

Tyler knew what you were trying to do and withdrew his fingers. A desperate keen fell from your lips, echoing off the walls. His hands gripped your plush hips, steadying your body.

"Please Ty, I-"

"Tell me five things you like about yourself. Then I'll give ya whatever ya want pretty girl."

This man was going to be the death of you.

[persephryne]

Making Aegon a rapist was straight up bad and lazy writing.

Let me elaborate.

In the show, the first thing we learn about Aegon as an adult is that he is a rapist. We haven’t seen him yet but still we already know that he is an horrible despicable rapist, especially since Dyana is so young, which pretty much makes him a pedophile too. How could anyone root for a man like that ? And that’s where the problem begins.

Rhaenyra had already been established many times as the rightful heir to the throne in season 1. It has been made obvious that she would make a decent Queen too. In the meantime, it had already been shown that Aegon is not even a good person. He’s selfish, inconsiderate, a bully, and does not act like a prince at all. To put it plainly, he sucks big time and we as viewers already know it. Add what we saw in season 2, how reckless he gets, how he’s an alcoholic immature asshole, how he obviously knows nothing about strategics nor how to rule efficiently, or even how bad he is at high valyrian, and you can’t have anyone tell you in good faith that he would’ve been a better ruler than Rhaenyra.

However, had Aegon not been made a rapist, you would still feel for him even though he is not cut out to rule. Because he knows it too and tried to escape it and he was forced to attend his own coronation . Because this crown that he did not want does not fit him, even though he really tries to show that he is not as worthless as everyone seems to think and he just keeps failing. You would feel for him because the war ,that he has started when he was made an usurper by the people around him, has cost him his son’s life. Because the brother, who is partially responsible for his son’s death has now betrayed him and tried to kill him with dragonfire. Because the injuries he suffered make him look more and more like his father who never cared for him, never loved him and that he definitely hates. Which also probably why he tries so hard to make his mother proud of him and love him but he can’t and his main attempt has left him half-dead, half-burn. Not only that but his dragon, with whom he has the strongest bond known in Targaryen’s, history probably died during this futile attempt to prove himself. The only thing about his Targaryen’s heritage that he seems to care about has been destroyed all because he wanted to prove himself. Because he truly resents his Targaryen’s, his father’s heritage, it’s obvious, just as it is obvious that he didn’t want to marry his own sister but was forced to. It’s completely legitimate of him to want to distance himself as much as possible from everything that is Targaryen related. He is indeed more of an Hightower than a Targaryen, but can you really blame him for that ? Would you not try to fit somewhere else too, if you were in his place ? It’s all absolutely and undeniably tragic.

I wholeheartdely believe that, even if you would’ve root for Rheanyra to be Queen, you woud’ve probably still thought that Aegon, as bad as he is, did not deserves this much pain.

But because he is a rapist, well, he honestly does.

By not trusting the audience to see that Aegon is not a good person, nor a good a king, without having him comitting a literal crime, by making Aegon a rapist, the writers have annihilated any possibilities for an internal conflict regarding Aegon and Rhaenyra. The whole concept of « teams » just goes down the drain because of this lazy, manichaean, writing. And that, my friends, is bad writing at its peak.

[lukolabrainrot]

Long ask anon with an even longer ask (I truly don’t know how to make long story short, but I can do the reverse), sorry. I am dividing this in two parts in case you decide to post this, so it would not be such an essay.

Part 1. Intro

Something has been eating up at me for a while but I only recently gathered the courage to do anything more than lurking. I actually am quite new to this, mostly because I was not allowing myself to even get into this in the first place. I am a very chill person when it comes to celebrities, I truly couldn’t care less about their lives, don’t even follow them on SM (L and N included) (not that I use SM all that much to begin with), I don’t know why but it always seems strange for me to be invested in strangers’ lives. I am not big of a fan girl either, especially media wise, I am much more interested in books and have no patience for tv shows most of the time. All of this to say, this is unusual behavior for me, watching all of the interviews with repetitive questions (those poor actors having to repeat themselves over and over again), paying attention to actors (beyond just knowing their names).

Polin is one of the rare ships that captured my interest, so I was very excited to learn about s3 being them, and when the wait for even the slightest info seem to be dragging on endlessly those interviews served as a great entertainment. Until they were not, until I started noticing things I wished not to. What started as “oh, they are so cute, and charming, and their friendship is so endearing!” very quickly turned into “babes, WHAT THE F*CK DID I JUST SAW/HEARD?” At one point I was honestly thinking “did I miss something? Are they together? What is going on?” So I checked, out of curiosity nothing more, but found nothing OFFICIAL suggesting that (as in N nor L never claimed anything). So I moved on, watched the show, other interviews (my brows still rising at some points), and then post Part 2 premiere I saw the picture on IG.

Everyone on internet seemed to be screaming about Ls’ GF, and being absolutely vile to him, which I found so disgusting I immediately checked out of the situation and turned my attention back on fiction again. It would be insincere of me not to admit to a certain disappoint on such a development, but that was as far as it would go. Though I can also truthfully say that that girl was not giving me the best impression based on the picture, something just seemed off. I only saw one at that point, where it appeared as if they were holding hands, why did it seem off? Because L looked displeased, almost angry, his eyes averted from cameras, while she was boldly looking right on them smiling as if she was walking her red carpet. As I said that was that, just continued watching the show, reading Polin fanfiction, hung out on a Polin reddit account and some Polin Tumblr blogs. And then I stumbled upon your blog (it was already past papgate 2.0), and now I’m on this bloody ship, and can not seem to force myself overboard, because those two are so soulmate coded (and yes, I realize how cheesy that sounds).

What has been bugging me, is that most, if not all, in this fandom seem to be of the opinion that L is the primary reason why N/L are yet to develop into lovers phase of this friends to lovers arc. From outright blaming him to passive aggressively calling him a dummy for not going after N. And I comprehend that most of it comes from the presence of a certain adjacent. But putting aside the OBVIOUS, LOGICAL point that we, non of us, are privy to their real lives, and bts truth, I still don’t see where that point of view comes from. I know that everyone says L is most like his character, so perhaps part of it is projection of that, but for me it always seems that L is actually a Penelope of this situation. To me, he himself gives it away.

Same Anon... same!

I have never thought L was the hang up in this situation. I think N has been burned in love, is pretty closed off with this stuff, and a TOTAL workaholic. L DEFINITELY fell first (no one can convince me otherwise). L also seems to kind of be a hopeless romantic and public lover boy, which I don't think N is use to. But I feel like that is why they kind of balance each other out ❤️️

[feroluce]

SO LIKE. As much as I roll with the Emanator of Elation Sampo theory, I do have. Some doubts about this specific instance of it. Not that I think Boothill is lying, or that I think Sampo isn't an Emanator, but I wonder if the person Boothill actually met was Sampo.

Just! Sampo is so careful. The only reason we even knew he wasn't of Belobog was due to a dialogue-dependent fourth wall-breaking dream sequence that no other character could have seen. It took a missable dream bubble in an out-of-the-way spot that was seemingly left only for the trailblazer at the very end of a side mission just to confirm him as a Masked Fool. Like it's not just the fact that Boothill mentions this person being an Emanator. It's that he knows they're also a Masked Fool, which is also something Sampo is incredibly dodgy about. Sparkle even seems to call him out on this in her party join line fjkdjaskldj

((But also, Boothill, baby. WHY were you trying to get them drunk????))

And regardless of if you believe him when he calls himself an old timer, he obviously has a lot of experience in doing what he does. He knows what he's doing, he's good at it, and he is viciously capable and competent, unfortunately for his victims smhznskdn

So it just. Feels very unlike him, for him to let his guard down enough to not only let himself get drunk in front of Boothill-

a total stranger btw whom Sampo has absolutely no reason to trust, and a dangerous Galaxy Ranger to boot who has plenty of blood on his hands and a significant bounty on his head

-but to get SO drunk that he lets loose the secret that he's an Emanator.

When Boothill brings this up, he mentions that if Emanators were obvious and known at a glance, it would lead to atrocities. And for as much as Sampo is disliked by his victims (there's an entire anti-Sampo organization in Belobog JFDKLASJFDL), it's all for fraud. He's wanted by the IPC as an intergalactic thief. He scams people out of their money, and only rich people at that. That's mostly all that he's known for. Nothing he does is violent, even though Sampo surely has the capacity to inflict a lot of harm.

And I don't mean that he's exactly a pacifist or anything; Firefly comments that Sampo seems like a highly skilled covert fighter. His voicelines make it sound like he enjoys combat- hell, his ult line makes him sound like a hitman. I like to hc him as being a pretty high ranker in the fighting rings at the World's End Tavern, like we see in the Simulated Universe occurrences.

But I don't think he would enjoy being the cause of uncontrollable violence and bloodshed.

Like yeah he's a dick who scams people on the regs for funsies, but he has lines he refuses to cross, which we see a lot of in how he interacts with Sparkle. More than just not enjoying it, I think he would hate it if he were found out and it caused an incident, especially since he seems so endeared to Belobog and her people now and it looks like he plans to return there. He wouldn't want to bring any of that back to them.

So I just can't imagine him carelessly fucking up bad enough to out himself to a random stranger that could easily put a bullet right through his head.

Sparkle maybe could, though.

Because as we find out later the dreamscape had expanded FAR beyond what it seemed, far enough that the trailblazer had been dreaming since the warp jump in. Most people enter it unknowingly, and don't realize they're already dreaming when they think they're still awake. Boothill and Dan Heng should have already been dreaming during their exchange on the Express that started all this.

And as long as someone knows they're dreaming, completely changing their appearance is easy, even for the common layman. We see this with a couple of NPCs and also Sparkle herself, with her (in)famous impression of Sampo.

Thank youuuuu Sparkle

And yeah, the trailblazer and almost all of the other characters wouldn't know about the expansion until near the very end. None of them realized they were dreaming even outside of their dream pools, and surely none of them would think to be suspicious of another person's appearance outside of the dreamscape like that.

But Sparkle has a script from Silver Wolf.

She knew all the secrets of the dreamscape, and she knew them from the very beginning. There would have been nothing stopping her from appearing as Sampo in front of Boothill and spilling all his secrets.

And she apparently has a long-standing history with Sampo, including trying to get him in on her own much more fiery and aggressive version of Elation.

Maybe all Sampo needs is to be outed as an Emanator, and then when all the violence and bloodshed catches up to him, then he'll finally understand! ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩

[jals-stuff]

Taking care of it! p.2

That took ages because I had a shitton of things to do, apologies.

You can find part one here.

warnings: we talkin' about snakes here.

word count: 5.9k

note: i had a very specific ending planned and a very slight change in mood swept it all away, so there ya go.

The snake was now out of its egg and you were absolutely ecstatic. It was your first time actually caring for a pet, and you had even seen it come to life. Your petty rivalry with Orter didn't matter anymore and all you wanted now was to see what kind of colours Rivers would get as it sheds its old skin.

What you didn't know was if the beast was going to keep absorbing your energy as it kept growing or if it only took in emotions. Asking the teacher was out of the question, but you knew you'd find out about it quickly.

That night had been rather sleepless due to the excitement of seeing this adorable creature come out of its shell. You had carefully made a little nest inside one of your scarf and when the sun rose, you decided to take a little walk.

Orter was against the idea of letting you wander around on your own, because what if you just collapsed again? But it was all nonsense to you and you wrapped your scarf around your neck, then placed Rivers carefully on top of the cotton.

It didn't seem to mind being carried around, and at least it wasn't alone in your room. Walking around with a snake inside your scarf was unusual, but it was nothing compared to Orter’s heavy steps behind you as he just refused to let you be on your own.

“I’m just going to the store, Orter. I’ll be fine.”

“I don't want you to collapse and crush Rivers in the process.” Yes, that was his excuse. Truth is he wouldn't forgive himself if he left you alone in your current state. But he couldn't possibly tell you that, could he?

You did take offence in his words, though. Was he calling you fat? Ah, but again, he was pretty blunt by nature. The slight change in your expression made him panic just a little bit.

“And… if you get hurt, you won't be able to take care of Rivers anymore. This is a two-people assignment.” He added, pushing his glasses up a little bit. It was obvious what he thought, but you were pretty dense yourself.

“..right.” Was all you said before you entered the store, still carrying the mandragora snake inside your scarf. It felt nice to finally be able to walk around instead of letting him do everything. You bought some snacks, of course, and decided it was time for a little stroll in the Academy's gardens.

It really felt odd having Orter follow every single one of your steps and just pretending not to be here, staying all silent. He had his usual neutral expression, but the coldness in his eyes was a well-built wall to conceal his actual thoughts.

The sight of you being so excited about the snake and finally getting outside was refreshing, to say the least. You were walking slightly faster than him, and he had to take some of those comically big steps to catch up to you.

You were looking around as if you had never seen a plant in your entire life and he found that absolutely adorable. You sped up a little and so did he, and then…

You felt a little dizzy, as if your energy had vanished, and you stopped walking. The second your body leaned backwards, he was behind you to hold your shoulders so you wouldn't collapse. You looked up at him with a small sigh and just let out a stupidly childish chuckle.

“Ha! Thanks, Orter.” 

It absolutely melted his heart but he didn't say anything, just let you rest against him as he pushed his glasses back up, one of his hands firmly holding the back of your shoulder.

“See, this is why I insisted on coming. Had I not been here…”

“But you were. It's nice, thank you.” You just said, taking the opportunity to rest as you just leaned against him without really thinking, breathing deeply and hoping you'd quickly regain your energy. 

He didn't say anything to that, but you could feel his hand faintly tighten against your shoulder. A week ago, you would've panicked but somehow it felt relaxing now. You had to resist the sudden and very unexpected urge to put your hand on top of his. 

Of course you didn't do it, you were too busy wondering why you wanted to do such a thing. You were overthinking the hell out of it and for a second, it felt like Rivers was squirming around inside your scarf. 

You exhaled deeply and looked down at the small snake. “Oh, sorry Rivers. Too much?” And the snake flicked its tongue slightly in response. Orter looked down at it, then at you, as he had no clue what you meant by that.

Was he going to ask? Absolutely not. He would be damned the day he reveals even a portion of his feelings. Feelings? He couldn't place a word on what he was feeling, but he definitely didn't despise you anymore. 

You weren't planning on moving anytime soon but some students were kind of staring now and it was really embarrassing. “Um… I think I'm okay now.”

“Are you?” He asked and you really, really wanted to say that you weren't, that you needed him to just stay like this for a little longer, and that under no circumstance he should let go, but you just nodded, and his hand didn't simply leave your shoulder. It traced your arm down to your elbow before he cut contact completely. 

What is up with this guy? You wondered, but what was up with you as well? Rivers was almost going crazy with all of the emotions he had to absorb and it was only the first day. 

“Anyway… let's, um… go back..?” You suggested in an unsure tone, and he merely agreed. The way back felt like an eternity, confused students staring at the two of you, wondering why you're both headed for your dorm room. 

As soon as you took Rivers out of your scarf, Orter carefully held him and stared for a bit. He then just sat on the bed opposite to yours and kept it in his hands, looking at it as if he had never seen anything like this before.

“Isn't it so cute?”

“It…” ‘isn't nearly as cute as you’ was what he wanted to say but he decided not to. “...is, yes.” He kept looking at it in an intense effort not to stare at your amazed expression, with stars in your eyes as you gazed upon the adorable baby snake.

This was going to be one hell of a rough week. He had nothing to pour his attention into since there was no homework. He could read another book, but then you would probably think he doesn't want to talk to you, and gods, he does.

He could absolutely research more things about young mandragora snakes, but then you'd be left alone, what if you collapsed? What if you weren't feeling okay? What if you needed him for something and had to get out of your room and go out of your way to find him but ended up fainting again?

He was clearly overthinking and Rivers could feel it, slightly squirming in his hands. Orter came back to himself and blinked a few times, then sighed as he looked at the snake. “Oh, sorry.” He muttered, petting it with one of his fingers.

It was your turn to be confused as he apologised. For a second, you wondered if he, too, was overthinking, but… that was definitely not his style, why would he? An idea suddenly crossed his mind.

“We could go to the library and do some more research if you'd like.”

You thought for a bit; researching was an excellent idea and this way, you’d be making good use of your time while also staying with Orter. While also staying with Orter? When did that become a priority to you? Your thoughts were scrambled again and you just shook your head to dismiss them.

“Good idea, let’s go, you can have it.” You said as you started taking off your scarf, but he stopped you and just carefully placed Rivers inside of it. He couldn’t carry the snake, not if he had to pay attention to you in case something went wrong.

You assumed exactly that, as you didn’t oppose this decision and just grabbed a few snacks and left your room, followed by the straight-faced sandman. Everytime you started walking a little too fast, he would simply grab your sleeve to slow you down a little and give you this look, these eyes that practically said don’t waste your energy out loud.

And instead of rolling your eyes or being snarky like the old you would’ve done, you’d slow down, knowing he was right. You were paying attention to Rivers inside your scarf, sometimes patting the top of its head with your index finger and the little snake didn’t seem like it minded at all.

However as you did this, your eyes weren’t exactly focusing on the path and you felt something hit your whole front as you stumbled backwards, right into Orter’s chest and he put both hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. Looking up, you were met with a student’s annoyed glare.

“Hey, can you fucking watch it?”

“Ah—” You felt terribly sorry and you were about to apologise, but you felt the sand magic user’s hands tighten against your shoulders slightly, prompting you to stay quiet. His eyes travelled from your figure to the student’s face, giving him this cold look he was known for.

“Do we have a problem here?” He asked, and oh boy, you could feel the atmosphere brutally change, as if the air around the three (four, with baby Rivers) of you was thick and icy. You looked up towards Orter’s face and he was staring daggers at this poor guy, who just stepped back quickly.

“I-I’m sorry, I should’ve paid more attention!” He stuttered, and this obviously should’ve been your line, but these golden eyes were too intimidating for anyone to handle. The student quickly left and Orter pushed his glasses up a little and blinked slowly, then looked down at you.

“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

Somehow, for some reason, for some goddamn reason, your heart was beating too quickly for your own good. You couldn’t even speak up, because if you did, the only thing that would come out is a choked out, high-pitched sound, as if to explain the amount of pressure your diaphragm was currently undergoing, and you only felt like screaming. Why? Was it badass, was it scary? Was it both?

A quick nod was enough for him to sigh softly in relief, and he gently pushed your shoulders forwards so you’d keep walking. And you did. The trip to the library was undisturbed after the earlier events, even if you kept glancing down at Rivers to check how it was doing. Orter pushed the door open for you, a true gentleman, you thought, and found a nice secluded spot for the two— three of you. 

You sat down and he immediately fetched some books on mandragora snakes. Now that you’re thinking about it, this library is really huge, it has books about anything and everything. You could get stuck in here and be busy for more than a lifetime reading all of them.

Both of you opened your own book to take some notes. This whole moment was silent until Orter heard you whisper something and, as he turned to face you, he saw you hunched over one of the pages with Rivers’ head slightly coming out of the scarf. His eyes travelled to said page and he thought he was going to implode. 

“Look here, Rivers!” You whispered and the snake followed your finger. You were… showing him pictures of other mandragora snakes, this time adult ones, and it seemed to be looking. The display was ridiculously adorable and he couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle and a faint smile as he watched you introduce Rivers to its congeners. How could you get any cuter when he thought it was impossible?

You glanced at Orter and found him staring at you with that very faint smile of his, and you couldn’t help but think he looked really handsome like this. The slight blush that crept upon your face was out of your control and you just pressed your lips together in an unfructuous attempt to hide it. 

“I-I’m sorry, did I disturb your reading..?”

He chuckled again, this time a little louder, at your worried expression. “No, of course not.” He looked at you with eyes full of kindness, a rare occurrence for a man like him. “By all means, do not let me interrupt.”

You couldn’t tell if he was making fun of you, though he did seem very sincere… but now that he had noticed, it felt a little embarrassing, and just as if he could feel it, he brought his book closer to you and pointed at a picture of a young mandragora snake and looked at Rivers. “Looks like you, buddy.”

You almost exploded at how cute that was of him, but said nothing and just watched him playfully pat the top of the snake’s head. Orter’s soft side was unknown to the public, and witnessing it had drastically improved your mood for today, and probably the days to come as well. 

The research session led you both to more notes on how to take care of a young mandragora snake and what their colour patterns mean. For example, the majority of this species gets glossy scales with purple flower patterns when they are healthy, but some rarer colours had been observed a few times in their natural habitat; specially strong specimens would have beautiful golden scales and very faint black flower patterns, some of them, mostly in captivity, would get darker green scales with white flower patterns, indicating they had absorbed a lot of anxiety from their owners.

Some had rocky, callous scales and looked really dangerous, just like the one your teacher had shown you in class, all of this coming from an angry environment. Others had darker patterns, or red flower patterns when the emotions they fed upon were love and care, some even had blue flower patterns if their owners were the dreamy type. 

Despite how interesting it was to learn about mandragora snakes, so far nothing had been too helpful, and you deemed your routine to be just fine. In the mornings, you’d feed Rivers pieces of mandragora roots, then talk to it, pet it, let it wander around the room… 

Come to think of it, since the day you had stopped biting back at Orter’s snarky remarks, he had only been very supportive and helpful. Was he just that nice? It did change pretty much everything you thought about him. When you glanced at his figure, he was just meticulously taking notes, really pouring his efforts into it. 

Your hand reached for the snacks, and you realised the pack was empty. At the sight of this, your stomach growled in protest and your face turned red from shame. Orter turned to face you and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to go to the cafeteria?”

You shyly nodded and he adjusted his tie before standing up and retrieving the books. “Alright, let us go, then. I think we have enough material now anyway.” Another nod of your head and you stood up, then felt like you were weighed down. 

“Did… did Rivers grow again? I feel like it’s getting heavier…” You muttered as you looked at the snake inside your scarf; it looked clueless. Of course it did, but it also looked a bit bigger than it was in the morning. “Look at you, you’re an even bigger baby now.” You cooed at the snake and it rubbed its head against your chin, making you giggle.

“I’ll measure it when we get back to our room, then.” He said and hearing him use the word our, for our room was doing… something to you. You dismissed the unusual emotion and stood up once more, carrying RIvers inside your scarf and with Orter’s hand hovering near your back to guide you.

The cafeteria was empty except for a few students who lingered after their lunch break, stalking the cook’s schedule to try and snipe one additional piece of dessert from the shelves. You were about to grab the chair you wanted to sit in, but Orter was faster than you and pulled it back so you could sit. 

“What do you want? I’ll bring it here.” 

Why was he being so… gentlemanly? You couldn’t say anything for a few seconds, mouth slightly agape as he looked at you with a slightly worried look. You let out an embarrassed chuckle and looked away from him, directly towards the tabletop. “Uhh… I’ll just have a bowl of rice, please…?”

“That’s it? A bowl of rice?” He raised his eyebrows at your answer, crossing his arms. “You need more nutrients than that, you’re clearly tired, you—” but he interrupted himself at the sight of your embarrassed expression. Not wanting to bother you any further with his concerns, he sighed and gave a nod. “Right. A bowl of rice it is, then.”

The way he was now trying to take care of your health was really endearing. Had he always been like this, you would’ve probably… 

Rivers squirmed a little inside your scarf, interrupting this thought that was making your heartbeat a little faster than you liked, and you gently rubbed the snake’s neck with your index finger. “Ah, again, huh? I’m sorry baby.” you muttered, looking at the snake. In fact, you had helped Rivers hatch, and taken care of it until now, so it technically was your baby… and Orter’s.

The thought got your face heat up at maximum level, and you had to press your lips together as you felt your cheeks contort into this uncomfortable blushing smile, the air blocked in your throat and your lungs begging for you to exhale, but you couldn’t, lest you’d just squeal in timidity. 

He put the bowl of rice down in front of you, making you jump in surprise a little, and mutter a quick “thank you” before digging in. It felt amazing to finally absorb some actual food other than snacks and sweets. You eyed Orter’s plate for a bit.

“Do you perhaps want some?” He asked, and you looked up at him, shaking your head.

“Oh, no, no! I was just wondering if Rivers would like that. You know, since it eats mandragora roots…”

As if to test out that theory, Orter grabbed a piece of carrot and presented it to Rivers, who immediately flicked its tongue towards that new piece of food it was being introduced to. It chomped on the piece of carrot and swallowed it. “It seems to like vegetables in general, then.” Orter remarked, again with a faint smile.

You thanked the gods that he didn’t notice your expression, staring at his lips like they were a work of art, your heart gradually beating faster and faster, weakening you to no end as you hadn’t recovered from last week yet. 

With both of your dishes empty, Orter brought them back to the kitchen and both of you left the cafeteria to get back to the dorm room. Your steps were a little shaky and Orter noticed that; he walked a little closer to you so he would be able to catch you in case you fell. Upon feeling the way his hand hovered against your backside once more, your heart sped up yet again.

You did manage to walk to the door and open it, but your legs were trembling a little and he just knew you were about to fall. His arms gently supported your weight around your waist, closing the door behind him and walking you towards your bed. It was a bit embarrassing, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt to have his arms wrapped around you.

He helped you sit, seating himself next to you and still holding your waist. “Are you feeling alright, (Y/N)?” But his question fell on deaf ears as the comfort his embrace brought you automatically made your body and brain shut down. Your head rested on his shoulder and he sat there for a while, a bit muzzy as he looked at your resting figure against his body. 

He would’ve been very nervous if you were awake, but it was fine right now. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm further around your waist, tightening his hold just a little bit as you slept calmly, Rivers doing the same inside of your scarf. It took all of his willpower not to laugh out loud at how cute the two of you were, his fingers gently caressing your face, moving your hair away from your cheeks. 

You exhaled quietly and nuzzled his shoulder and the side of his neck, and suddenly he couldn’t let go anymore. His heart was beating like crazy and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you. Suddenly, he felt the urge to keep you as close as he could. Suddenly, you were the remedy to his ills. Suddenly… he understood what this feeling was exactly.

His head was now resting against yours as his free hand was on your face, his thumb softly rubbing circles against your cheekbones. You seemed to appreciate the gesture, turning around just a little bit to face him, unconsciously wrapping your arms around his waist as well, making him think he was about to suffocate from the amount of affection he now felt towards you.

How could he reason now? The only barrier between him and his urges was the thought of rejection, but now you were holding him. He sighed deeply, closing his eyes and kissing the top of your head. He rested his back against the wall, sitting in your bed with you by his side, holding him, and nothing else mattered anymore.

Rivers was comfortably tucked in the cotton inside your scarf, sleeping soundly, and you were comfortably positioned with your head against his shoulder, arms wrapped securely around him and not letting go. He grabbed his book from the nightstand and opened it, reading with his free arm around you, holding you close.

However, this position was extremely comfortable, which led him to fall asleep, his hand holding the book now laying limp against his legs while still holding you. 

A few hours into the night, you woke up from Rivers’ slight movements inside your scarf. Your eyes fluttered open and you were immediately met with a pleasant smell; Orter’s. It barely took you a second to understand what kind of position the two of you were in, but this time there was no such thing as embarrassment. 

You simply reached for his glasses, taking them off and folding them delicately onto the nightstand, before you felt him slightly toss at your movements and, without warning, he completely laid down and pulled you against him, tightly holding you in his arms. Only then were you embarrassed.

What would the best approach be when both of you would wake up? Should you just go with the flow, or pretend you didn’t notice what happened? No, no. This would be Orter’s choice. If he decided to keep holding you while both of you were awake, you would gladly accept it. But then if he decided to pretend nothing happened, you’d oblige as well. 

But you didn’t concern yourself with any of this any further and simply didn’t resist his pull, letting him hold you close to him, with Rivers between the two of you, truly an adorable picture, you thought. It felt comforting and soothing, and you had no trouble falling back asleep even though you weren’t really that tired anymore.

…

As soon as Orter woke up, he had the reflex to pull you closer to him and move your hair away from your face before he realised what he was doing. He slowly pulled away, reluctantly leaving your embrace. Maybe, just maybe you hadn’t noticed any of this and he would be able to play dumb. 

He puts his glasses back on, not remembering when he took them off… but it didn’t matter. He simply sat on the opposite bed and grabbed his book again, throwing sneaky glances at you to see when you’d wake up.

It took you something like an hour to emerge completely, sitting up on your bed with Rivers partially out of the scarf now. You rubbed your hands against your face and took a deep breath, looking around you. Orter was sitting on his own bed… was that all a dream? No, no. The images from last night were way too vivid for your imagination to have created them. 

Then… was he going to say anything about it? You looked at him and he simply greeted you. “Good morning, (Y/N). How did you sleep?” His tone was still neutral, but it felt a little softer than usual. So he decided to play dumb, huh? Luckily, you were dumber.

“Oh, good morning. I slept like a baby. How’d you sleep?” 

He cleared his throat slightly at your words. Did you… did you know? Were you playing dumb with him? He narrowed his eyes slightly before pushing his glasses up a little. “I slept very well. What do you mean like a baby?”

You chuckled and sighed. “I mean I kept waking up every hour.” You could see his face become livid, and you held your laughter back. “I’m joking. I slept really, really well for some reason, I don’t know.”

“Oh, that is… good to know.” He coughed and felt the urge to divert your attention to something else. “Hey, didn’t… didn’t Rivers grow overnight?” At first it was only this, a mere attempt to make you focus on something else. But as he looked at Rivers, he realised that he was right. It had grown longer and heavier, too. It was now roughly the size of your arm, in both length and girth. 

Just how much was the little one going to grow? And what would the teacher even say? What would Rivers’ colour patterns be? So many questions without an answer, but you were sure it was all going to be fine. Somehow, the idea of having Orter with you through this comforted you into thinking such a thing. 

Somehow.

And you weren’t surprised anymore when, everyday for the following week, you woke up finding Rivers gradually getting bigger and bigger. It was getting heavy, but it was still a really cuddly, friendly creature. It was weird, the way it absorbed emotions.

What was it absorbing to grow so quickly? Orter had a flying suspicion on what it was, but he was going to take this secret to the grave, or so it seemed. You, on the other hand, were clueless. You were now on the sixth day and the little one was not so little anymore. 

Rivers seemed ready to shed and you would soon have to bring it to the teacher so they could reveal its colours. You were quite excited at the thought of discovering the beautiful patterns on its scales, and also the other students’ snakes. How did they all turn out, in the end? Would you also be allowed to keep Rivers?

…

It was still early in the evening and you were laying in bed. Orter was sitting on the chair by the nightstand, holding the snake and looking at it, rubbing its neck and patting its head. It was quite a cute display, really, and he was faintly smiling as well…

You shook your head slightly, dismissing these intrusive thoughts that started slithering into your mind, and decided to focus on the snake. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't guess what patterns it had, and you were getting pretty impatient.

Orter stood up from the chair and settled himself in his bed, back against the wall  with Rivers resting against his chest, one of his hands kind of resting against it as if holding it close to him. He grabbed his book and started reading, sometimes glancing at the snake and mumbling incomprehensible things to it. 

You decide to get out of your bed and sit on the edge of his to pet Rivers, and he immediately lowers his book and puts it away. “I don’t know if it was supposed to grow that much?” You wonder, out loud. “The ones we saw were… well, much smaller, right?”

Orter looks at the snake and boops its head. “Mmm.” He hums softly before raising an eyebrow and chuckling quietly. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, it’s just a big baby. Aren’t you, Rivers?”

You looked away from him immediately, hearing him speak to the snake in such a calm, tender tone was too much for your heart to handle and you were about to explode in a loud screech at how utterly adorable that was, and how you didn’t expect this. This cold looking, straight-faced man had been acting so tenderly these last few days, you didn’t even know if he was the guy you had been paired up with anymore.

You wanted to ask why he changed so much and what happened, but would he not take offence? Still avoiding his eyes, you thought of a way to ask him.

“You sure grew softer these last few days, Orter.” Your tone wasn’t aggressive nor mocking, and was accompanied with a faint, gentle smile so he wouldn’t think you’re criticising him. And it didn’t seem to bother him at all, his eyes travelled from the snake to your own, looking like he was forcing himself to look cold and distant.

“Did I, now?”

“Definitely. It’s… strange.” You trailed off, then realised he could take it in a bad way. “I mean— not bad. It’s different. It’s… unexpected? I um…” You were stuttering now and panicking slightly, not wanting to upset him or anything. “I think it’s very—” lovely? Or perhaps likeable? Both options could make it seem like you were confessing, really.

“I know you mean it in a good way, you don’t have to torture yourself like this.” 

You exhaled in relief at his understanding and looked out the window. You knew that tomorrow, this lovely little assignment would be over, and it made you feel a little bitter. The thought of having to let go of this little routine you had quickly gotten used to was filling you with emptiness, ironically. 

Only two things were certain in your mind right now: you wanted to keep both of them. How did a cold jerk and a snake become that important to you in such a short amount of time?

Your eyes travelled to Orter’s face again, taking in this gentle expression of his, and now it was starting to make sense. The reason why you couldn't take your eyes off him, why your heart was going crazy at every single touch of his hand.

You had fallen for this guy. Hard.

The thought made you blush slightly, and he pretended not to notice. Did he even like you… back? Did he simply put his rude, cold personality on hold just for the assignment? Was his old self going to resurface then? Was it really the end of these good times? If you could keep Rivers, maybe Orter would stay, too? 

You were spiralling into overthinking once again, and didn’t notice his golden eyes on yours while you were simply staring off. He didn’t say anything and merely looked at your troubled expression, slightly amused. It had become a little game of his own now, trying to guess whatever was going through your mind when you stared off like this.

“You should probably sleep, you look pretty tired.” Orter said, in a very gentle tone you had grown accustomed to, maybe a bit too much. But sleeping was a bit like time travelling; you close your eyes and suddenly wake up a little later into the future. You didn’t want that, you wanted this moment to last for as long as it could.

“Absolutely not.” You muttered, and for a second, your tone had him slightly worried, but he wasn’t going to question it. He simply grabbed Rivers and came sitting next to you to let you hold it. For a split second, the thought of asking him to hold you while you two were sitting and looking at the snake crossed your mind; you didn’t. You couldn’t. 

The very simple feeling of sitting next to him, his leg and arm against yours, was intoxicating enough, but it wasn’t enough, so to speak. It was getting later and later and you just wanted to hold on to this moment, you were unspeakably exhausted but you couldn’t let go. Your entire personality (and his) had shifted in only a fortnight and you weren’t sure how you managed to live like this before. 

Orter’s mind, on the other hand, wasn’t going through angst the way yours was. He could only tell you were very agitated, and as dense as he was, thought that maybe, just earlier, you weren’t staring at him for no reason. He knew you were falling asleep already but kept holding on to awakeness, and it somehow felt really cute to him.

“I’m not going anywhere, you know?”

That sigh you didn’t know you were holding finally came out, and as if his words were a lullaby, you started falling asleep again, sitting next to him, not caring about your head that threatened to fall limp against his shoulder anymore. With this, you just… let go.

The noise of your front door closing brought you out of your trip down to memory lane. Everything in there was so vivid you could’ve sworn it happened yesterday, or the week prior. You closed your diary and walked towards the vivarium in your room, taking Rivers out of it and carrying it over your shoulders as you walked downstairs. 

Grocery bags all over the kitchen floor, he went all out this time, you thought, but at least there was enough material to make some really good dinner. 

“I’ve been reading the diary I was keeping during our graduate years.” You chuckled and held Rivers up, another pair of hands catching it and letting it slither around these arms. “It’s crazy, isn’t it? That was so long ago, but I can remember it all very clearly.”

“Mm, no wonder, it’s the same for me.” Orter said as he ran his fingers against Rivers’ beautiful red, flowery patterns. With a very slight smile on his lips, only for you, he simply took off his coat and hung it in the entrance before wrapping his arms around your waist, planting a quick kiss on your lips, as usual. 

“There’s so much stuff, I don’t even know what I could cook with all of this.” You muttered, resting your head against his chest, and he merely chuckled once more and kissed the top of your head.

“Let’s just eat outside tonight, darling.”

Maybe group assignments aren’t always the worst. 

..........................................................

taglist: @babyorphanstastegood @squishychongyun

[itsrainingbubbles]

Luffy goes to the gym for the first time and he has absolutely no idea how to use any of the equipment

Of course he's strong and when he figures out how to use the machines he does it with ease but that involves a lot of trial and error on his part (he completely ignores the pictures on the machines telling you how to use them)

Hes been at the gym for roughly 2 hours when law approaches him, having been on and off watching Luffy while he's been struggling

Law thinks he's cute and takes pity on him so he decides to help him and shows him how to use the machines

All too soon (in luffy's opinion) law declares he has to go much to luffy's displeasure because law didn't even wanna exchange contact information! ("No I don't want to be friends I'm just trying to help you so you stop making a fool of yourself")

Not one to give up Luffy continues going to the gym at the same time hoping to run into law again, and a few days later he does see law again

He tries to talk to law but law insists that Luffy go do his own workout and to leave him alone, Luffy pouts about it but then he gets an idea

"but I need more help! I don't know how to use those machines"

"I told you this last time, just look at the drawings and read the instructions"

"I...can't read?"

"really now?"

So Luffy is obviously lying and is looking to the side like he always does when he's lying but it's amusing to law so he plays along and "helps" Luffy, who is doing it exaggeratedly bad, Law has to reposition his body on pretty much all of them

It started with just his hand placements being off and law repositioned him but Luffy kept progressively doing it worse and worse so law would put his hands on him and help him

When Luffy did one particularly bad, his cheeks flushed and avoiding eye contact, law just raised his eyebrow at him but said nothing as he grabbed him by the waist, which is exactly what Luffy wanted, and moved him to the correct position

When Luffy deliberately kept his arms and legs in the incorrect position law repositioned them too

When they meet again at the gym Luffy pulls the same stunt, law just looks at him with an amused smile but one again says nothing and continues to "help" Luffy

The next time they meet Luffy has pretty much run out of machines

"you can't tell me you don't know how to use a treadmill"

"I don't!"

"Well for starters, stop doing a hand stand"

"uhh- I don't know how?"

"Seriously?"

So law has to pick him up and put him right side up, then he has to turn him around because Luffy insists he doesn't know what law means when he says he has to face the other way

Law obviously knows Luffy likes him, and he likes Luffy too otherwise he wouldn't have kept playing along, but he refuses to say anything just to see how far Luffy will go

Law even starts going to the gym daily so he sees Luffy more often and Luffy runs out of excuses even faster

"I heard you need to stretch before a workout but I think I'm doing it wrong"

"i forgot how to use this machine, can you teach me again?"

"I'm tired after using this machine, can you help me up?

After Luffy "forgets" how to use every machine at least twice and goes through the most obscure warm ups that law hasn't even heard of, law gives in and asks Luffy out though not without teasing him a bit

"id ask for your number so we could text but you apparently can't read, so I don't think this will work out because I hate calling"

"I can read! I uh, just learned, so it'll work!"

Law will never let Luffy forget how they met and how obvious he was even years later he'll still bring it up

[cinnamonest]

Lena thank you for the spanking bit, has to be one of fav kinks ever because it just... fits every single yan regardless of who they are??? Kinda like a "universal" thing, just top notch. Do you think we could ever get headcanons for it?

Thank you for this anon, you're absolutely correct it is a top-tier kink

Also I've been wanting to write more about god-era Morax so thank you for the opportunity to do so, I rambled way more about him than the others here sorry lol

As for those who fit the kink best imo I’m going with Childe, Diluc, Ayato and Morax

//major spanking kink material (obviously) but gets kinda bad in severity/intensity, also mentions of hair-pulling, biting, throat fucking, anal, two cocks for Morax again (as always 👌)

--------

Childe is probably the best one here to end up at the mercy of here for once, for the sake of your poor ass at least.

Not that it isn't still awful and painful — he’s a sadist at heart and just adores making you squeal and cry. What at least makes it comparatively at least bearable is that he tends to use his hand — although that does make it more personable, more humiliating.

He tells you, though, exactly what he intends to do. You're being such a little brat today… come over here…

He doesn't even seem angry, but rather excited. He's all smiley and cooing in a way that feels so utterly humiliating and degrading.

Oh, but please do run. Please, please make it so much more fun for him, run away and try to hide. There's virtually nothing in the world that turns him on as much as either a game of chasing you or hunting you down wherever you're hiding. The fact that you're that scared of getting your ass beaten is kind of cute, actually. Are you that sensitive to pain, or is it more protecting your pride that gives you so much resistance? Not that he's complaining or anything.

He'll even give you a very wide opportunity to run, make sure you have plenty of avenues to do so. His heart rate begins to go up seeing the look of realization in your eyes when you spot an opening to run off, and he'll give you a minute or two of a head start. It doesn't take him long to find you nonetheless, hauling you up over his shoulders and carrying you back to your room with obvious excitement, like a predator dragging squealing, still-living prey back to its den for its inevitable fate.

That being said, doing that will make it worse for you — at that point you probably do deserve a belt at least, you know? Regardless of the instrument of choice though, he keeps you bent over his knee — he can feel your squirming more that way, and he can grind his hard-on into your stomach as you thrash around and squeal. Each strike still lands on bare skin, but rather than having your lower half naked, he likes to sometimes move the hold on your back and grasp at the waistband of your panties instead, jerking them up to wedge between your cheeks, effectively holding you in place and baring your skin at the same time.

He's so mean about it, taunts you that same voice you hate so much—

Aw, are you actually crying? Maybe I'll stop if you beg for something else…

There's no set number or standard of how much you'll be punished for any particular offense, which can be more torturous than anything. At least if you were given a number, you'd know how much more you had to endure. Instead, you just lurch and squeal each time his hand or the leather comes down... you kick your legs and thrash about, to no avail. In fact, you're pretty sure it just makes him hornier, you feel his cock twitch and his breathing grow more ragged the louder you cry out, and his hand on your back forces you down harder.

He’s actually totally shameless about getting off to it, too, so you can’t use that against him.

God, you're so cute when you cry like that... squeal louder for me...

The only real upside is that it's usually abruptly cut off at some point once he's too aroused by it to continue, and needs to just bury himself into your holes. You get slid off his lap onto the couch or bed, barely getting any time to recover — still sniffling and whimpering— before being contorted to whatever position he wants and rammed into without warning… thus for once, him being perpetually horny and having virtually no self-control actually becomes a positive. It still doesn't help, though, that the sex makes his hips smack against your sore ass with each thrust, but crying out about that only makes him go harder.

You know it could be much much worse — he makes sure to remind you that he could easily keep going until you completely break down, but he's so nice and you should be grateful for that — but you're still sore, and it leaves a pinkish-reddish tint under your natural flesh tone — something he likes to point out to you later, groping at your ass and laughing when you jolt at the sting. Your nose wrinkled with your expression of disgust as you jerk your head away from him, and you mutter under your breath.

Bastard...

And then, you squeal and lurch forward as one more harsh smack lands on your backside. You try to ignore the chuckling that follows as your eyes well up with embarrassed tears, and you bury your face beneath the covers of the bed.

-------

Diluc’s punishments are awful in terms of pain, but thankfully they're over fairly quickly because it's largely an act of momentary fury and irritation, and once he gets that anger out of his system, the punishment will be over, too.

He's still very intimidating about it, and it doesn't help that it's always a sort of spontaneous thing he decides on in the heat of the moment — thus you see the exact moment you know you've crossed a line, but also know (or at least, quickly learn) that there's nothing you can say or do at that point that will get you out of being punished. His eyes narrow and his voice lowers and he tells you to get over here in a voice that makes you feel like your heart just stopped, and your stomach feels as if it twists into a knot when you see the confirmation of your dread when he takes his belt off.

Running is not advisable — it's not like you'll succeed, and you'll just make him more mad. He's rough with how he handles you, dragging you by your clothes and hair over to bed, counter, or the back of a couch, forcing your head down.

How bad any one particular spanking is varies a lot depending on how mad you've succeeded in making him. He's not merciful at all, so he hits with force based on the level of his frustration. Thus, your attitude is important — you can technically commit a lesser offense, but if you keep backtalking and being bratty and fighting it, you'll likely get a worse punishment than you would for a worse offense for which you were apologetic and submitted to punishment easily.

What does change with the severity of your offense is that if what you didn't isn't so bad, you can keep your clothes on, but for particularly egregious transgressions, even in spite of the heat of the moment, unfortunately, he doesn't forget to pull your clothes up or down and off to make sure you're bared first.

He virtually always uses a belt, much to your dismay, and prefers to bend you over various surfaces since he can strike harder that way. It’s painful, you always end up in tears quickly, begging and pleading and spilling apologies for whatever you did, but he never has any mercy on you.

Much like you can’t get out of it to begin with, there’s also nothing you can do that will make it end any sooner than he feels like it. Over and over, grumbling with each strike about how you’re such a brat, how you can’t just behave, how it’s your own fault, until your flesh is reddened and burning badly enough that even when it’s over, all you can do is slump forward and cry.

If he went really hard on you, he might feel a little bad afterwards, getting you a wet cloth to soothe the burn… but he’ll still remind you that you wouldn’t be lying there all shivering and sobbing if you just learned to behave yourself properly.

For him, it’s more of an actual punishment first and foremost and not really an intentionally erotic thing, at first he’s too mad to think much about the eroticism of it… but seeing you lying there sniffling with your butt so heavily marked and welting, admittedly he does quickly get hard… and he’ll get incredibly flustered and embarrassed if you accuse him of getting off to it.

But be careful — push him too much on that matter, and such antagonism might be grounds for a round two on your already-stinging ass.

-------

Ayato’s punishments are particularly unpleasant, but the thing is that if you're in that situation, you deliberately chose it. Because he's gracious enough that you get a lot of warnings before reaching that point.

If you're being bratty, temperamental, rude, or whatever other behavior he doesn't like, you get a certain look first. The standard half-lidded eyes, unpleased expression, the universal ‘stop that right now’ glare. Maybe a passive aggressive comment if he can slide one into conversation.

If that fails — in other words, if you keep being a brat regardless, deliberately ignoring his warnings — you then get a verbal warning. He'll address you directly if it's just the two of you, but gods forbid you’re digging your own grave by misbehaving in front of others, he waits for a moment where everyone else's attention is on something else before pulling you close in a faux gesture of affection (with a grip harsh enough to ensure you get the message but not enough to alert anyone else in the room to his quiet fury), lowering his voice, whispering directly into your ear.

We’re going to have a talk about your behavior when this is over. Do you understand?

You know by now what a "talk" actually means, and hearing the words makes you stiffen and swallow. Granted, by the time it reaches the point that you've been that bad, you won't escape without at least a few swats, but if you persist, you'll just make it much worse. All you can do is nod your head and wait in dreadful anticipation.

As soon as the company you had leaves, you try to slowly back away, looking for an opening to run, but he has you grabbed by your clothes or hair and is dragging you off before you can even try. The total silence on his end as he drags you over to your room only serves to amplify your dread, and thereby your little whimpering protests.

The primary thing that will make it that much worse is what he uses to punish you, because from the day he brought you home, he anticipated a need for discipline at some point, and thus had a whipping cane custom-made just for you. One of those thin wooden canes designed for no other purpose than infliction of pain and punishment, which he leaves sitting out in your bedroom at all times, making sure it's always within sight as a subtle threat, a reminder of his power over you and that your behaviors have consequences.

He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t get heated, yet somehow that makes it so much worse. He’s perfectly calm as he holds you down on his lap, a hand wrapped into and grasping your clothes on your back to ensure you’re not going anywhere with each sharp pain on your bare skin. He’s very disciplinarian about it, ensuring to emphasize the reason and intention of the punishment itself—

Remember that you had every option of avoiding this. This is only the consequence you deserve. Do you realize that?

You nod and whimper and try to apologize, but it doesn’t make each swat any lighter. He’s rather harsh about the severity too, the degree of pain, duration, number of swats and outright humiliation often feel disproportionate to what is in your opinion a mild offense, although you know better than to voice that thought.

You beg, sure, you cry and whimper and say you'll take any other punishment, but it goes in one ear and out the other, your words have no effect, and while his voice has that characteristic gentleness to it, he's still cold and firm in his reply, if he even gives you one.

You're not getting out of this. Hold still.

He does take care of you afterwards, so lovingly and gently it makes you angry. He reminds you again that it wouldn't have to happen if you behaved, that you have no one but yourself to blame, all while kissing your crying face, holding you close and gently massaging the newly formed welts.

He also likes to make you gauge how many lashes you deserve beforehand, often making the total number a certain multiple of how many times you mouthed off or did something against your rules. And of course, whenever there's a fixed number, he makes you count.

Listening to your voice grow more and more shaky and begin to crack, your speech becoming slurred with sobs and oh, how precious is the sudden panic in your voice when you realize you've lost count. The way you tense and start begging and whimpering when he replies—

I suppose we'll have to start over...

-------

Morax’s punishments are always by far the worst.

That's largely because there's a maddening element of psychological torment involved. It's slow, drawn out, the dread and anticipation are almost worse than the punishment itself. He actually employs a variety of corporeal punishments, each of which make your stomach churn just to think about, but unfortunately, putting you over his knee and beating your ass until there's a deep red hue to your skin is a personal favorite of his.

What makes his style of discipline so unbearable is that you’ll be punished for literally anything. There is no possible offense, no rule to be broken, that won’t earn corporeal punishment of some kind, most usually on your poor ass. You get a very clear set of rules, rules you’re expected to know and obey from day one. Countless little rules, so many of them meticulous and pointless. Things you must do, things you must not do, and rigid standards for your attitudes and behaviors.

Each and every violation is its own offense — not to mention, things like lying when asked about what you did, objecting to punishments, even talking back or trying to defend yourself when accused count as individual offenses too. Sometimes you don’t even realize you’ve broken a rule until he tells you you’re going to be punished for it, and any protest or whining counts as another offense.

Really, you’re lucky if you can go a few days in a row fully able to sit without any stinging pain, and it’s not uncommon for you to earn back-to-back punishments one day after another. You know for a fact that your record of days in a row without ending up laying in bed, whimpering and crying and clutching your backside in pain is a single digit number.

Sometimes, if it’s severe enough, you’ll get put over his knee right then and there, but he’ll also tally up the small offenses and, at the end of the day, punish you cumulatively for every small offense you’ve made, because he can’t allow even the slightest offense to go unpunished.

It’s not limited to things you do in his presence either, because he has ways of finding out everything you do.

Every day that you can't accompany him, he has an established routine for when he returns. Firstly, of course, you're supposed to greet him when he comes in (any attempts to be petulant by giving him silent treatment or hiding away will result in further punishments), but then, as he sits you down, holds you close, he asks you the same question.

Have you done anything you should not have today?

It's a torturous question.

On one hand, you could have very well been very well-behaved, in which case you can answer honestly with at least some confidence (although even then, part of you hesitates thinking maybe you committed some offense unintentionally).

But when you haven't been well-behaved and you know it — that's what's torturous.

It's a gamble. He asks every single day, so him asking itself is not a dead giveaway that he knows what you did. If he doesn't know — well, you might be able to lie and get away with it. Inversely, how unfortunate would it be if you told him, and it turned out he didn't know, and then you had to suffer when you could have gotten away with it?

On the flip side, if he does know — well, you'll soon be squealing like a stuck pig regardless, but things are much, much worse if you try to lie. You would know — you've taken that gamble a few times now and lost.

He seems to have ways of finding out everything — you only lied when you were absolutely confident, thinking there was no way anyone saw the thing you did, only for your stomach to lurch when you feel the soft stroking against your thigh stop, and are met with a low voice—

…Is that so?

And the tone, the way he says it, you immediately know you've messed up.

Of course, you could hypothetically keep denying it, but entrenching yourself further in a lie is, by that point, the worst decision you could make — you would know, you tried that once and you couldn't sit down normally for over a week. The best thing to do now is to confess… you won’t get any mercy or a lighter punishment, but you’ll avoid the additional punishment you’d get for doing anything else.

But even then, he can’t even give you the decency of forcing your body to bend and getting it over with. It has to be drawn out, torturing you to the greatest degree possible — sometimes, he does this by delaying it, telling you he has something else to do first, leaving you to sit around and wait in anticipation for an hour or more. If an offense is bad enough, one session might not even be enough, and you're told that you'll get another one tomorrow, adding to your dread.

But most of the time, the torment comes from forcing your own participation. He keeps you firmly in his lap, reaching down to grope at the flesh where your butt meets your thighs.

What do you think you deserve to have happen to you?

Another test, a question for which you’ll only receive something worse in addition to whatever will happen already if answered incorrectly. There’s only one right answer—

…Y-you should... punish me...

On the bright side, he’s genuinely pleased once you start learning well enough to know what the right answer is.

You’re stood up, guided over to the drawers, hands firmly on your shoulders to ensure you don’t get any ideas about running. You hate that one drawer, it makes your stomach churn just to look at. He has a damn collection for you— leather straps, whipping canes, paddles with holes in them just to hurt that much more. He tells you to pick one.

That, too, is a test— you know which ones hurt more. You're supposed to gauge what you deserve based on the severity of your offense, and he'll be that much more displeased if you go too lightly on yourself, and will consequently be more forceful, which you do not want. Eventually, you manage to make your choice, biting your lip, pointing with a shaky hand, tensing as his hand runs motions that would be soothing in any other context up and down your thigh, pausing to grasp at the fleshy part of your backside.

Then you're led back— sometimes to face the wall or bend over a counter, but most often he prefers to keep you over his lap. Not that you'll be forced down either— not unless you make that necessary, which of course, you do not want. Unless you want it to be that much worse, you follow the commands— pull your robes up, the waistband of any underwear down, bare your skin (always, no matter how mild the offense), lay down on your stomach, put your hands behind your back so he can grasp your wrists.

And even then, even then you have to be tormented further.

Now, what did you do to deserve this?

You recall to the best of your ability, hoping you didn't forget anything, lest you be accused of trying to be deceitful in hopes of escaping consequences, which will add another tally to the list.

It’s painful. It always is. You've reached a point where your resolve to not cry and squeal is defeated pretty early. You used to try your best not to for the sake of your pride, but you know by now that it will go on long enough that your tears and crying out are inevitable.

He manages to somehow be so stoic and calm and yet somehow so, so cruel about it.

Does it hurt?

Your shoulders quiver with little sobs, you go tense as he gropes and kneads at the raw flesh.

Y-yes, it hurts, it hurts so bad, please no more, please—

You cut off with a high-pitched cry as the stinging pain strikes again. And again. And again. It's always so much, so unfair compared to the weight of whatever you did. That slight pinkish undertone isn't quite satisfying enough either, he never stops until there's a deep, deep red tone to your flesh.

If you've been especially bad, you may have to count… but he actually tends to prefer not giving you a set number. You're more fearful that way, uncertain of how much more you have to endure.

You're certain he gets off on the pain for one thing, the sound of your cries and the way you jolt and squirm, but the humiliation is worse than the pain itself, for you. He knows that, revels in it. He's told you before—

You're such a prideful little thing… that will certainly need to be fixed.

Repetitive subjection to something so inherently humiliating and vulnerable, and being made to break down, any semblance of toughness and dignity being torn away at his hands, is a way of slowly breaking down your pride. You know that, it makes you so angry, but you can't help but let that vulnerability be exposed every time, to act in such a way that ensures he knows how badly it humiliates you.

Your go limp with exhaustion when it finally stops.

What have you learned?

You can barely speak, voice hoarse from the strain of your cries and speech muffled by sniffles and sobs.

I'm sorry… I won't do it again…

And then, he has the audacity to be so, so sweet to you. Looking down at your tear-streaked face, smiling— no, smirking, a belittling, amused expression— leaning down to kiss your forehead.

Poor thing.

Kneading at the sore flesh in spite of how the touch makes you wince. As if it isn't his fault, as if he had any mercy on you the whole time you were begging for it to stop.

It only makes you angrier. More than once now, you've earned a second round for how you reacted to his undeserved kindness. So ungrateful.

It's never a solitary punishment either, always coupled with something else, always something equally humiliating and discomforting, if not painful. You know he gets off to it, because the second punishment is almost always a direct sex act of some kind.

You'll take his cocks down your throat, grabbing your skull and fucking your face without any restraint, forcing you to swallow every last drop of seed, even forcing your head down to lick up whatever you spill off the floor. Your saliva just provides the lube to force you to bed and fuck you until you can't even stand, and all the while his hips bounce off your poor ass, each movement stinging against the sensitive flesh. He'll bite your flesh, unnaturally sharp teeth even piercing you skin, leaving you covered in marks. If he's feeling really, really mean, you don't even get the semblance of pleasure of it ramming into your poor sore, raw pussy— you'll take both cocks into your tight little ass instead, a stretch that makes you squeal and thrash and cry. Your legs kick and you lurch forward, desperate to pull yourself off, but you're jerked back with a growl as he slams into you, completely bottoming out. Eventually, you give in as the stretching pain ebbs away and trying to take whatever pleasure you can from the faint stimulation to spots of pleasure through the walls of flesh. But the act is utterly humiliating nonetheless, your hole left twitching and gaping for hours as cum leaks out and onto your skin. You can't even sit for days, both your poor asshole and backside sore and tender.

Your embarrassment and resentment builds. You loathe him for it, feel so humiliated and angry at yourself and how deeply you dread the punishments that it makes you nauseous.

And thus, in one particular incident, fed up and filled with spite, you made the greatest mistake of your entire time trapped with him— you decided to run, seeing that for once you had an opening to do so.

A stupid choice, really. You don't get far. Not even a full ten steps.

You know immediately that you have severely, sincerely fucked up. The sheer harshness with which you're grabbed, the back of your clothes grasped and twisted with unprecedented force, the draconic growl to his voice that makes your blood run cold.

Oh, dearest, you have no idea how badly you've just stepped out of line.

His other hand latches onto your throat.

You're going to be sleeping on your stomach for quite some time, won't you?

The statement alone makes tears well in your eyes, any bitter pride quickly crushed. You shake your head profusely, start begging for forgiveness, but you know in your heart that it's far too late for that… it still doesn't stop you from whimpering and apologizing as you're dragged back down the hall, no doubt to one of the worst punishments you've endured yet.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Thank you so much for the furfrou headcannons I absolutely loved it🥰

May I request headcannons for Arven,penny,Nemoma and Mr Hassel(my new dad) with a reader who actually lost their main partner who was a deathly protective mightyena but was…removed should we say…by their dad who was a fighting type gym leader but hated that his kid had a Pokémon like Mightyena,so he had a incredibly violent fight with his lucario and mighty was unfortunately lost in the end.Reader ran away and found a little rockruff puppy who was abandoned,he later became a dusk form lycanrock who is fiercely protective of reader.

I wonder how Hassel would react to a parent doing something so unforgivable to their child and seeing how close she is to her lycanrock and how terrified of fighting types she is.

How would Arven feel seeing someone who dropped everything to help him because she couldn’t stand seeing the cycle repeat in a way.

What about nemona? Would reader be terrified to let lycanrock battle against her pawmot?

If this is to dark I completely understand!

Oh ouch :(( This is fine to request dw!

......

Arven

He knows a thing or two about having shitty parents.

But absolutely nothing could've prepared him for the truth of why you never spoke to your dad and went through so much trouble to help his Mabosstiff recover:

Because you, too, had a dark type dog Pokémon partner..but tragically lost them after a vicious battle with your dad, a fighting type gym leader who was disappointed in you choosing Mightyena as your ace.

You two had an argument that turned violent as he sent his Lucario against Might, Mega Evolving him to teach you both a "lesson" that ended up wounding them badly.

He didn't think it was fatal, but sadly not even a Pokémon Center could heal their severe injuries.

So you comforted Might in their last moments, burying them that night and grieving, before running away from home--never speaking to your father again after that incident.

At some point, you found a friend in an abandoned Rockruff: a very young one left on a leash outside by their trainer.

You two formed a connection, and years later they remained by your side, having evolved into a Dusk Lycanroc that had the same protectiveness and loyalty as Might once did.

Arven already has tears in his eyes by the time you finish telling him everything, and when you bring out Lycanroc, he has nothing but respect for them.

Both of you wind up making sandwiches and take a break from tracking down the Titan Pokémon.

He's glad he opened up to you, and vice versa.

But boy, he'd love to give your dad hell for what he put you through.

Penny

During Operation: Starfall, you had a pretty bad panic attack when Eri brought out Lucario--an event that Penny unfortunately witnessed.

Your Dusk Lycanroc knew why you were so distressed and, despite the obvious type disadvantage, was fueled with enough rage to cleave through her team and take down the Starmobile.

After that, they helped you calm down and recuperate.

Later, after Penny reveals that she's the Team Star leader, she talks to you in private and admits to seeing that frightening moment.

But she's still unsure why you reacted that way.

Since she was open to you, though, you decided to open up to her about your past with Mightyena and how you lost them after fighting your dad's Lucario.

And you see the shock in her eyes before she shakily mutters "I'm so sorry", realizing she played a part in making you relive that trauma by battling Eri.

But you reassure her it's okay. She didn't know, and you don't hold it against either of them.

You've just been afraid of fighting types for so long, which is why you saved the Caph Squad base for last.

She's a gal of few words, but she's willing to lend you her Eeveelutions for emotional support should you ever need them.

There's a good chance she's always gonna feel somewhat guilty, especially when she catches Lycanroc sneaking glares at Eri and her team.

Nemona

Your battles with her start out normal, with your Dusk Lycanroc taking down most of her team with ease.

But when she sent out her Pawmo for the first time, you become frozen with fear--something that she notices right away and stops the fight.

She asks if you're okay, but you just quietly switch Lycanroc out for another Pokémon and swiftly end the battle before leaving.

It'll be a long while before you admit to Nemona why you looked so terrified that day, so she assumes you had a bad experience with a Pawmo before.

But when you feel comfortable enough to tell her, she feels guilty and promises to change up her team.

Ngl she's probably gonna tear up after learning how awful your dad was to your Mightyena.

She vows to battle the bastard himself and take away his gym badge for good.

But you tell her it's okay. Karma will come for him, and you just wanted to continue healing from your past wounds.

Eventually, you'll be fine battling her Pawmot, though knowing her passion you just...have this nagging fear that she might overdo it and seriously hurt your Lycanroc.

So you avoid using them if she sends that one out.

Hassel

Of all the teachers, he was closest to being the father figure you always wanted, but never got (considering your own was a dirtbag who didn't deserve his gym badge).

So you trusted him a lot, often chatting with him about homework, his elite four job, or how your treasure hunt was going.

But one day, Hassel notices how sad and distant you seemed in class today.

Considering you're always participating, it's unusual seeing you be so quiet.

So he asks you to stop by later, wondering what was weighing so heavily on your mind.

He may or may not have brought you to tears as you explain that today was the anniversary of your Mightyena's death.

After you go into detail of how your Dusk Lycanroc became your next companion, he starts sobbing his eyes out while hugging you.

Never in his life could he imagine a parent doing something so awful to their child's Pokémon.

It shatters him to know that you, too, were being forced to follow in someone else's footsteps, with your dad wanting to raise fighting-type trainers but you wishing to have a dark-type partner...and ultimately being punished for it.

Since then, Hassel has been 100% supportive of you, always saying that he'd proud of you and how well you raised your Lycanroc.

[ladykailitha]

Just some thinking thoughts.

I read or saw somewhere talking about Eddie's buzzcut and who and why someone would have done that to him.

Now granted this is all based on when you think Eddie showed up on Wayne's doorstep.

My thought had always been middle school. He still remembers how to hotwire even though it's a pretty sure bet he hasn't had to in a while.

And when he's talking about his dad I got the impression that as a kid he idolized his dad, but has long since been jaded by the man.

So young enough to still look up to his dad, but old enough to see an obvious difference between Wayne and Al (it's a dumb name, but it's the one we've got).

I've seen a lot of fics where Al shaved his head in punishment for *insert horrible parent reason here* and hurt Eddie in someway, prompting CPS (child protective services) to swoop in and take Eddie to Wayne's.

But may I offer a different perspective. Eddie got buzzed between CPS taking him from Al and dropping him off at Wayne's.

When I was growing up I had this friend who was the fifth child of EIGHT. Now, Dad had a pretty well paid job, but Mom was a SaHM and they could NOT afford the amount of children they had. Their house was always a mess and lice was prevalent.

Lice here is where I'm going with this. One of the things that parents, school teachers, and the like would do if it became too bad was just shave off the hair. All of it. To make sure there were any eggs left near the scalp.

So, I propose, that CPS found Eddie in absolute filth and shaved his head and probably burned his clothes, too.

So imagine this 11-12 year old kid showing up on Wayne's doorstep with a shaved head and nothing but the clothes on his back.

I was also thinking of Steve, too. We know so little about him. We don't know his parents' names, what they do, or where they are from. We know Sr has a business that often takes him away from home, that he most likely cheats on his wife and that's why she goes with him, and that they are neglectful at best, and abusive at worst.

Kids that underage drink and smoke, have parties all time and are considered the "bad boy" at school not very likely to have good parents. Yes, even in the hands off era of the 1980s.

I have always had this feeling, something not supported in canon, but just a vibe I get from Steve. The house that they use for the Harrington place was built in 1976, so if we use it's actual age that would make Steve ten (if he was born in the later half of 1966 and not the early part of '67) when he moved to Loch Nora.

Now it's true the Harrington's could have lived in Hawkins elsewhere, but it's more likely that Steve is a transplant to Hawkins.

So not only does Steve not have a connection to the people surrounding the Upside Down, he also doesn't have a connection to the town the way the others do. But he still chooses to fight the monsters, protect his friends and the town.

And I think that just speaks to Steve's character. And isn't that just beautiful?

[acourtofthought]

I’ve been seeing a lot of people saying how they don’t think Lucien and Elain are well matched as mates. I don’t know if I can agree or disagree with this yet. Because so far the only times we’ve seen them interact they’ve been dealing with trauma or they were being watched. Which is really awkward even without all the trauma, when you’re trying to get to know someone.

But we haven’t seen them interact alone, after moving past their trauma. So how can anyone say they aren’t(or are) well matched as mates.

I do like that they have similar past trauma with mourning past relationships and the lives they thought they’d have. And I do love how Lucien seems to only care about her well being.

Anyways, I love you thoughts and insights. And was wondering what your thoughts are. About them being or not being well matched as mates.

I do agree that having to watch certain interactions through the eyes of Feyre made things awkward because Feyre was doing her best to keep Lucien away from Elain and her clear discomfort with her finally needing to ask Lucien for his help after what the healer said was pretty obvious during the tea scene. That's not Elain or Lucien's fault, it's the fault of Feyre, Nesta, Mor, and Amren who were all standing around pretending to be busy with other things while encroaching on a pretty intimate moment. That's why the library scene between Elain and Lucien is one of my favorites, because they were more "real" with one another without nosy eyes and ears (at least to their knowledge). Clearly Elain was in a bad place and clearly Lucien was struggling with the fact that Jesminda did not turn out to be his mate as he'd believed for centuries but it was still a lot more of an emotional exchange than the others that we saw when Feyre and Nesta were in the room with them.

It's ok if you'd like to see more on page interactions between them before making that decision though but I think their lack of on page interactions is actually part of what solidifies how well matched they are.

Sarah has no issues writing a romance between two characters only to tear it all down. Feyre and Tamlin, Chaol and Celaena, Dorian and Sorscha, even a possible one between Chaol and Nesryn. She doesn't shy away from two characters feeling something for one another all the while she's planting little clues as to why they're not going to work in the end, why they're not matched the way she likes her endgames to be.

So why then has she written Elain as ignoring Lucien when she's finally begun to move forward from Graysen? If Elain's endgame person is supposed to be Az or someone else then what harm would there be in Elain interacting with Lucien so the reader can see exactly why they wouldn't work out and why she'd decide to officially reject their bond? A bond rejection isn't like a regular breakup, it's something that will trail the two people forever, the loss of the other half of your soul. Elain is absolutely free to reject Lucien but she should do so only after knowing exactly what she's dooming them to for the rest of their lives, knowing exactly who she's rejecting. Sarah could have easily written an Elain / Lucien storyline like Chaol and Nesryn, where we saw them spending some time together before their book but once TOD rolled around we had already begun to see what was missing in their pairing and why they both ended up with others.

Instead she has Elain saying nothing to Lucien for nearly two books. Won't talk to him, won't interact with him, nada.

If there is no chemistry between them then why the need for that behavior?

What is more likely is it's going to be impossible for them to interact without us kicking our feet and giggling every time they do. Elain is different from her sisters, the author has repeated it over and over. Yet Elain is in the same court surrounded by the same morally gray, hulking warriors as her sisters who ended up with two of the brothers. While Elain might have a physical attraction to Az, it's clear that when they do interact their banter / conversation falls extremely flat. While Elain is trying to spend time with Feyre, Feyre only thinks of her like a pleasant companion. While Nesta and Elain were once close it's clear that Nesta has always treated Elain like a child in need of protecting. I mean, Nesta and Feyre can't even imagine Elain having sexual thoughts or being exposed to kinky sex, that's not how you treat an equal.

Even without knowing what we know of Elain and Lucien, it's pretty easy to see that Elain is not truly compatible with anyone she's currently around and it's not for her lack of trying because she is making the effort yet neither her sisters, the wraiths, Az or any of the other bat boys bring out the best in Elain. At this point the only one who brings out the best of Elain is Elain herself. And if she's not truly compatible with anyone she's currently around and spending time with / interacting with, that logically means her people are elsewhere.

Lucien and Elain might not interact much but we've been given a lot on who they are as individuals.

First the author straight up told us that she once thought Lucien and Nesta would be together until she realized they were poorly matched and Elain took she and Lucien by surprise. That alone suggests that the author knows Elucien will be matched because she moved forward with them as mates, not Nesta and Lucien.

Sarah then freely offered up (not even prompted) where Elain and Lucien would go on vacation, that they're both happiest in nature. One could still argue Elain and Lucien won't end up together but I don't think someone can take away what she said about what makes them happy. Loving nature is a personality trait, regardless of who they're with. But if they end up with someone who loves nature just as they do it can only help their compatibility.

We know Elain is bothered by cruelty.

We know Lucien prefers his words to weapons though both Elain and Lucien will pick up a weapon to defend their loved ones if necessary.

We know Elain is happiest in sunshine.

Lucien, while an ally of the NC, is connected to the Spring Court and Day (Autumn too but I'm pretty sure that's not where his main story is headed), both courts associated with the warmth of the sun.

Lucien laughed himself silly when tricking Feyre into eating the berries.

Elain has now given multiple gag gifts at Solstice.

Both Elain and Lucien are emotionally sensitive, not afraid to show their tears and not afraid to express their love for their friends / family through words and physical embrace.

Neither Elain or Lucien blame others for the things that have happened to them, they often process their trauma internally.

Neither Elain or Lucien actively seek out revenge against those who have wronged them.

They both called Amren cranky at different times.

Sarah made it a point to tell us that Elain refused the Illyrian leathers and though Lucien had to wear them it did not mean he was choosing the NC.

We know both Lucien and Elain take care in their appearance, enjoying fashion.

They are both underestimated by those around them.

They both had loved but lost that love because of traumatic circumstances.

They both easily make friends and are said to be the only ones who truly enjoy parties / balls.

Elain doesn't want to be coddled or fought over and Lucien has only ever given her the space to make her own decisions, even stepping aside for her to go back to Graysen rather than "claiming" her which some fae would feel would be his right.

Sarah said her FMC end up with who they need to be with (not want), the one who offers their character the most growth and she wrote Lucien as being the first and only one of two (with Rhys later being the second) who gave her credit for killing the King).

Moving forward, maybe we'll see Elain and Lucien talking, really talking, and won't feel they're compatible. But honestly, I can't understand how anyone would think that because they (in my opinion) are Sarah's best laid out couple to date. She's had the time / books to build up their individual characters in a way she didn't with any other especially because she seemed to know early on the direction she'd be taking them and I think that's reflected in how perfectly matched Elucien seems to be. She's had the chance to lay out crumb after crumb telling us exactly why they'd be a match even if Elain hasn't let her guard down enough to see it yet but when she does I think they're love story is going to be the most powerful one she's ever written with two characters who are more perfect for one another than we've ever seen.

I think Elain and Lucien will not only be mates and lovers but best friends, more their own found family for two than we've seen from any other FMC. Feyre had the IC, Nesta had the Valkyrie and while I know we'll see friendships between Elain, Lucien and many others across the different courts / lands, I think Elain and Lucien will never find more connection, peace, and happiness - a place to truly be themselves, then what they find when it's just the two of them together.

[ryuichirou]

A bunch of TWST hcs

Guess what! A bunch of headcanons!

Since we have a lot of asks about them, and I can’t quite write long lists for some of these asks, I figured I’d group them in one post.

Some of those are pretty old, so I’m very sorry for the wait!

Today we talk about twst boys’ reaction to Trey’s “not a virgin” sign, about twst boys getting becoming soft older men, crying fetish, foot fetish and uhh abortion (not a lot though).

thestarlightfae asked:

What are the twst boy's reactions to Trey's new accessory? How red does Riddle turn? ...Did he already know?

Good question!

It partially depends on whether Trey was lucky enough to lose his virginity with Riddle or not… both options are good, and I can’t pick one 😭 But in both of these cases Riddle would get super red, either because he now feels like everyone knows that they had sex (even though the sign doesn’t specify who was Trey’s first), or because he is shocked to learn that Trey’s already had sex with someone. It feels too weird to think about it, to even imagine it, so Riddle might end up coping by thinking that there is no indication that the sign is telling the truth about Trey. Yes, that thought will make him feel much better… still kind of warm inside though because he can’t stop thinking of Trey as a sexual being now lol

Cater is the type to say “no waaay, Trey you betrayed us virgins”, as if he is himself a virgin. He isn’t. He is a hypocrite lol

Savanaclaw boys wouldn’t care much, but Jack would get secondhand embarrassment for some reason while looking at Trey’s sign. Maybe he’ll even get angry: he doesn’t need to know who fucks in this school!

Octavinelle wouldn’t care much, but Azul would tell the tweels to investigate just in case. Actually, Jade and Floyd might tease Trey about it the next time they get to interact, but nothing much, just dropping a couple of subtle jokes about Trey being sexually experienced. Poor Trey.

Kalim and Jamil… really wouldn’t care at all, would they? 🤔 Jamil would probably get annoyed by everyone making  such a big deal out of it, but it’s NRC, they always make a big deal out of things like this.

Rook 100% knew about it. Even if Trey didn’t tell him, it’s not like he could keep any secrets from Rook-the-attentive-friend. He would still react obnoxiously and somehow make the situation worse by trying to be supportive about it lol

Vil’s reaction would probably be a “huh”. It’s not super surprising, it really makes sense, but… I guess he just haven’t thought about it like that before. He is mildly curious about the details, and he knows Rook 100% knows the tea, so he might ask him later.

Epel is just upset that someone is having sex and it’s not him… he knows it’s kind of stupid to get upset over it but…

Idia wouldn’t be surprised but he would rant about how typical it is for a nice, looking “plain and nerdy” guy to be someone who fucks, and that people like Trey are falsely considered nerdy and goofy, and that in actuality a lot of people pick people like Trey as their hasbandos, so why are we even talking about him fucking: of course he fucks, look at him, it’s been obvious for ages now.

Ortho doesn’t really care, but he is very intrigued by Idia’s reaction…

Diasomnia boys wouldn’t care much either, but Lilia would absolutely torment Trey about it at some point, he is his classmate, after all.  Plus, he loves teasing the youth about those things~ And he is all about gossip, so he wants to know the tea!! He should ask Vil after Rook tells him about it lol

Anonymous asked:

All the guys are pretty fit (or malnourished in Idia's case), but do you think any of them will start to put on some extra pounds as they grow older? Idk I just like soft older men

Very good question, Anon!

The first thought that both Katsu and I had was Trey lol I guess he is destined to become a little chubbier over the years. Both of his parents are slim, but Trey himself has this “soft older man” vibe, plus he is likely to become less active as he gets older, plus his access to bakery...

Riddle, but only if he stays with Trey. He’d live a much more chill life than he does now, filled with warmth, indulgence and baked goods…

I doubt that it will happen, but I also want Ruggie to become a bit on a chubbier side. He’s even more malnourished than Idia right now :( Let him eat a lot!!

I am very tempted to say that Azul would become chubbier because we love unhinged chubby boss types of characters (I know very specific), but since Azul is probably prone to gaining weight, he would probably stay overly attentive to his diet and exercise and stay slim :(

Kalim will start gaining weight when he becomes a grandpa, and it might happen pretty suddenly. One day he is Kalim, and then after a certain point suddenly he is Sultan lol

Epel might gain a little bit of weight once he settles down in Harveston… I know I’m saying it just because of his meemaw, and she is an old lady, but somehow it makes sense in my head.

Who else… I am also tempted to say Sebek because he reminds us of Diedrich from Kuroshitsuji lol I don’t know what needs to happen for Sebek to become chubbier but that would be wonderful.

Anonymous asked:

Who from the twst boys has a crying kink? You know, they like to see their lover cry? (I’m pretty sure they have crying videos for this purpose.)

VERY GOOD QUESTION, ANON. VERY GOOD KINK.

I am that twst boy I think a lot of them do, actually, or at least this is one of the scenarios I could picture for a lot of boys… But I’ll mention those who come to mind the most when thinking about this fetish.

Ace – not necessarily a kink, but he does get the tingles when Deuce starts crying because of how he is enjoying sex. So kind of? But maybe it’s because he starts kind of panicking on another setting, like he is supposed to comfort a person because he took things too far (let’s be honest he’s out there making people cry with his comments).

Trey – one of his darker kinks he is deeply ashamed of. He can’t help it – he feels physical arousal whenever he sees someone cry, especially if they are choking with tears and can’t talk. He is always the first to comfort the crying person because he can’t let the crying continue – it’s going to drive him insane. But sometimes he just wants to shove his dick in the mouth of a person that can’t breathe through nose anymore because they’ve been crying so hard it’s all stuffy now.

Cater – I can’t explain it and have no proof, but I know for a fact that this guy has some weird special photo collections on his phone, and it might as well be this. It is not as intense as Trey’s situation, and probably started just as a mild interest, but somehow he took things too far… not like he practices it irl, but…

Octa-trio – yes all three of them. They could show each other a picture of someone crying and all of them will get way too excited about it. Whenever Jade and Floyd bully, I mean, collect stuff from Azul’s debtors, they are very encouraged to take photos and videos of the entire thing. Also, all three of them really love licking tears off someone else’s face… is that a merpeople thing?

Rook – he is into all kinds of emotions, and crying is one of the most precious one of them. He also has a big collection of pictures… not a lot of videos, unfortunately, but he probably stares at the crying pictures most often out of the entire cast. He loves all kinds of crying: devastated, joyous, ecstatic, and he especially really loves the sounds of it and the way the eyelashes look when they’re wet… He is very proud to be one of the few people who’s seen Vil cry. Vil isn’t proud of it though, because whenever he feels like crying he knows that it’s going to make Rook fucking horny.

Ortho – I guess he is in Rook’s squad of “I am into anything” lol Because he is interested. At some point he started recording people crying… because he was fascinated by it, since he himself can’t cry. But then he got very into causing someone to cry. His digital heart usually bleeds with Idia cries, but at the same time, when he does it not because of bad memories, but because of deep and devastating embarrassment… Ortho loves it!! And Ortho will continue to cause situations like this when Idia expects it the least~

Lilia – he loves it a lot. His preferred way to make his partner cry is overstimulation, but he also really loves the thrill of emotionally tormenting and teasing the boy to the point that he is just sobbing all helpless, confused about the situation and his own feelings.

Malleus – not in a sadistic way, I just think he loves it when his lover is so overwhelmed with his feelings that he can’t help but weep pathetically while fucking him. It’s not like it happened or anything, but… theoretically…. You know, just playing with the idea… maybe when it actually happens, Malleus won’t like it…

Crewel – come on I had to mention him. When he makes his students cry, he feels such joy. Not only in a sexual way, but in a sadistic way in general… but also, in a sexual way. Tears is one of his favourite body fluids and it’s an absolute must for him when he is fucking someone. He could make anyone cry, verbally or physically.

Anonymous asked:

I couldn't find anything about it. Foot fetish hcs? *sits in horny corner*

Hi, horny foot fetish Anon!

This is a fetish we aren’t super into (I did draw it before though now that I think about it lol not with twst though…), but out of the cast I can think about a bunch of guys that would be into it. 🤔 Let me share my thoughts. 🤔

Ace – a liiiiiittle bit, but his is mostly just heel fetish he is in denial about. Would be super embarrassing to admit that he likes the sound of his housewarden walking. But also, I kind of want Ace to have a fetish he is super embarrassed about, and I think this one works. Maybe he watches too much porn and it poisoned his brain…

Floyd and Jade both in a way, but ESPECIALLY Floyd. Jade is more of a “tickling and teasing” kind of guy, and he has fascination with legs and feet as someone who only got them recently, but Floyd is very into them. Especially if they don’t look like his own feet, like very small ones for example. He would genuinely enjoy warm and soft feet on his dick, I think… but then again, he would also try to bite them off because of excitement lol

Rook – definitely. You can’t look at this man and tell me he isn’t into feet. One day he would ask Vil to step in paint or oil and leave a footprint on a piece of paper for him… Vil is kind of reluctant about it most of the time, but then he sees Rook’s reaction and gets kind of into it (he loves being worshipped after all), and then Rook kind of gets it too far and it’s weird again. 🤔

Ortho – he is also very interested in feet because they are a novelty to him, and in a way his interest is pretty innocent, but there are still some horny undertones in how he approaches it. Idia doesn’t know which feet library his AI accessed to create such a little foot-fetishy monster, but he is 75% sure Ortho has his own feet database by now.

Anonymous asked:

i don't remember if you ever did abortion hcs, so if you didn't, who would owo

You know, Anon, pregnancy-related stuff isn’t really our cup of tea unless it’s very specific scenarios, but for some reason I kept coming back to your ask…

I won’t give you a list, but those who I could picture the scenario with: Jamil, Vil, Epel.

Also we love to talk about Lilia breaking Malleus’ eggs, so I guess that also would count as an abortion… Technically a murder- No wait, the egg is out, but it’s not cracked yet- I guess it’s still an abortion lol

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 18

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

New chapter, new cup, and back on my tea drinking! Today is another past year ren faire hand made cup with a Blueberry Jasmine tea.

This is present me rn - having finished this chapter- I WAS NOT PREPARED WHAT THE FUCK; what a goddamn jump scare of a read! D:

let's get ready for the notes journey so you can see me descend into a cacophony of sound:

Okay the visitor from last chapter was not Luo Binghe, and I really thought it might have been- it is in fact Liu Qingge! p159

Where is Luo Binghe though?? p159

Side note: unrelated, but a little bit related- adjacently related if you will - to the plot -> Big Same Shen Qingqiu! When I see a fan I too have to give that baby a firm crack! p159

Also real as fuck. LQQ: "what's up with you and Luo BInghe?" SQQ: I don't really know, but here we are LOL" p160

What did Liu Qingge see in the room that made him trip up/pause??? (I am sure we will find out later but still what the heck) p162

I'm crying at the strike out over here "His current attire and appearance was exactly identical to the Luo Binghe from before the Immortal Alliance Conference: the model of flawless and pure disciple of a major sect, the image of a pretty, diligent, and competent young wife, it really...really...was..." p162

Why am I so suspicious about the breakfast service Luo Binghe has for SQQ. p163

I love how the two of them in disguise in this very obvious trap of basically every powerful cultivator and sect is Luo Binghe changing his facial expression and SQQ being like "well I've been away for a while they will never recognize me" stealth check natural 1 for sure for sure p168

ewwww. anything to do with Old Palace Master. I really hate this guy, this story is so fucked. honestly poor Luo Binghe rn. pp171-172

oooo! New quest from the system: Raising Righteous Image Points! p176

more me appointed points to my 'SQQ is the damsel/love interest narrative', "In conclusion: So the female lead's role was going to be Shen Qingqiu again, huh?" p177

THANK YOU! This guy is the only one talking sense. Tianlang-jun really did nothing to start this whole war. He was only tricked and then essentially had the shit absolutely beat out of him. I dont even think the rumour he was going to wreak havoc and kill a bunch of humans was true- probably made up by butt hurt Old Palace Master. p181

ugh. Poor LBG having to hear all these people talk about his parents, their story, and how his mom hated him so much she tried to abort him. what the fuck, that's enough to mess anyone up quite badly. pp181-183

LBH: SQQ: my heart!!! pp 186-187

OFC LBH would be blamed mid Menty-B for the random demons being present. p189

Also so valid! the sects really are using the same tricks they used on Tianlang-jun. You know what, i'm really starting to stand with these demons - they have been done so dirty! p190

Hell yeah Yu Qingyuan stepping in! p191

Everyone here wants an explanation- how tf are they going to explain any of this tho LOL p195

Oh fuck, oh fuck! He hit zero points! p196

wait...alternate punishment? p197

Oh dang, he really just collapsed p197

AH! What's happening in the dream punishment. Is the punishment SQQ having to live with the original novel Luo BInghe and forever pining for him LOL? pp 198-199

Oh shit. Luo Binghe is totally figuring out that Shen Qingqiu is not his original Shizun p201

HE TORE HIS ARM OFF?! P202

MORE LIMB RIPPING P203

WHAT WHAT WHAT!!!!

THIS IS WILD.

What a horrible punishment OMG.

[kohakurin8]

~ A Devouring Obsession ~

Dissecting the message behind the bistro horror game, Dead Plate

‼️ WARNING ‼️

This post contains spoilers for the entire game and all 4 endings. If you would like to play the game before reading, you can download it at the link below.

Being a French Waiter Sounds Fun, Right?

First of all, I'd like to start by saying I absolutely LOVE this game by @racheldrawsthis and the amazing people at Studio Investigrave. The story will permanently occupy a part of my brain, which is exactly why I'm taking the time to share my thoughts on it.

In this game, we play as a happy-go-lucky waiter named Rody, who's just started his new job at a famous 1960s French bistro, La Gueule De Saturne.

His boss is a prolific chef named Vincent Charbonneau, who's equally odd as he is talented. He stands in the back of the bistro kitchen and watches his cooks meticulously prepare his day-by-day cuisine, meanwhile Rody is mysteriously the only waiter.

It's worth noting that the "diner style" gameplay is incredibly fun and really impactful to the overall experience of the story. Even though it seems to only be particularly relevant in the first playthrough or so (however long it takes you to buy the Matches), I still absolutely love the feature.

The Difference Between Love and Obsession

Sadly enough, I've seen a lot of debate going around in the fandom and Rach's ask-box about shipping connected to the game. While I support headcanons and unique interpretations of the source material (and don't hate the ship), just as any creator should, I also cannot stress enough that this is NOT a story about Love!

The story of Dead Plate is incredibly immersive and very well written, meaning that just as in life there is very much a possibility for the events between Rody and Vince to have ended better. But the point of the story is to actually illustrate the tragedy of Obsession and how it can ruin a person.

To preface, if neither Rody nor Vince had indulged in their obsessions, things could have ended a lot better for everyone involved. But sometimes in life, tragedy strikes, and there's nothing you can do but learn to accept it. The best outcome, the happy ending, isn't always the reality.

So if any of you out there still believe that the game of Dead Plate was "shipbaiting" somehow, or if you struggle to see the differences between Love and Obsession portrayed in the story, well...

Allow me to elaborate!

The Manon Hangup

We all know Rody and Vince, whether you've played the game or just got a bit curious about it on the Internet. But, the third major character who holds the stories of these two boys together like glue is our dearly departed Manon.

Although her identity is mostly hidden until after the first ending, Manon is soon revealed to be Rody's ex-girlfriend and Vince's current girlfriend. She serves as both the object of Rody's obsession and the catalyst of Vince's obsessions — although, despite her being the story's primary victim, I can't help but feel she's also a bit guilty of Crime of Inactivity for the events which transpire.

Rody and Manon had been dating for a while, I think since even before Rody dropped out of university. He would spend all of his time and money trying to make sure she was always happy, neglecting himself to the point that Manon finally broke up with him.

And then went after a rich, famous chef almost immediately... Ya know... As normal people do...

Needless to say, Rody believes he's madly in love with Manon. He's constantly talking about how absolutely in love with her he is — about songs he wants to write for her, and things he wants to do to make her happy. And all of this definitely gives the illusion of love, but if you actually pay attention to what he says and how he acts, it's pretty obvious that Rody isn't in love at all.

Rody is obsessed with the idea of being in love...

See, when you're in love with someone, you talk about them — who they are, what they enjoy, how they make you feel, etc. But Rody never says anything like this about Manon; if he did, then we would have understood who she was better before Ending 3. Instead, everything he says about her is an "I" statement.

"I bought her gifts!"

"I want to take her to dinner!"

Yet, even when asked questions about Manon, Rody can barely answer them. The best detail we can get out of him is that she might be a little materialistic.

Rody's obsession was never about Manon, it was instead about how having a girlfriend made him feel. That's why he held onto her so hard, why you have the option to try calling her every single night, and why he simply can't even accept the fact that she broke up with him.

This likely has something to do with trauma in Rody's past, although we'll never really know. What we DO know is that Rody's behavior could have possibly been corrected if Manon had simply acted sooner in the relationship.

Why did she wait until he was so far gone to finally take action?

Why did she start dating a richer guy almost immediately?

We don't know enough about Manon to say for sure, but I suspect she may have been passively taking advantage of Rody until the guilt was too much to bear. Which in itself didn't exactly lead to her death and the ruining of three lives, but Manon still had the opportunity to stop this entire debacle before it even had a prayer of happening.

The Torment of a Chef

So now we slide over to Vincent's obsession, which is admittedly more detailed and complex than Rody's. After all, he's a trained chef in France, the capital of culinary arts! It's no doubt his job is way more high stress than you could possibly imagine.

But there's so much more to his psyche than that...

Rach has given us a lot of details about Vince, and I'm going to be referencing them quite a bit in order to properly explain the nature of his complex obsession.

Let's start with the fact that, although it isn't directly confirmed, it's been mentioned quite a lot that Vince's parents don't show him any love — this of course would be the reason why he has no idea what love actually is or what it feels like. The only thing he's probably ever loved in his life is food, which makes it all the more devastating that he lost his sense of taste when he was a small child.

Vincent spent his entire life learning how to cook perfect food, yet he despises eating and can't taste ANY of the masterpieces he cooks. That alone would be maddening.

Yet, it gets worse for him. Because Vincent doesn't understand love, that also means he doesn't understand how to put love into his dishes — the one ingredient every chef will tell you is most important in cuisine. (I should note I actually have a little bit of a background in professional food services) It's a huge insecurity for Vince, and rightfully so! Despite all of the people who praise his skill, there's always a handful that will call it "bitter" or "soulless" despite that.

But that's fine, he's fine. He's managing that insecurity. So what if he can't cook with love? Who even knows what love is anyway? He's still famous, and talented, and well renowned. He doesn't need those heartless critics.

Until he met Rody...

The two of them went to the same university, although it's pretty evident they didn't interact much back then. It's possible that Vincent's obsession with Rody started in university, watching him from afar, but that's uncertain.

What is certain is that Vince became obsessed with Rody after the ginger became a waiter at the bistro. Vincent heard Rody talk constantly about how much he loved Manon, that it started to make Vincent think... What if that was his key to cooking with love..?

Remember how Vince doesn't understand love? Well, it's important to consider that although one might not understand what love is or how to show it, that doesn't mean that they don't feel love.

Vincent is canonically gay, and also canonically obsessed with Rody. But why did he become obsessed with Rody in the first place? Usually when you latch into a person like that it isn't for some random, niche reason. So it seems highly possible that Vincent was in love with Rody.

He even did his best to show his love to Rody in the only way he knew how — by cooking.

Each night, Vince sends Rody home with "leftovers" — except, they aren't actually leftovers; they're dishes which Vince specially cooked himself specifically for Rody. He desires more than anything for Rody to enjoy his cooking, because he has no other way to show his love.

The issue with that is Rody is one of the people who expressly believes that Vince's food is soulless. Granted, he's the sort of person who would praise Burger King so honestly his opinion should be taken with a grain of salt, buuuutttt... That's not how this works.

Vince loves Rody, therefore Rody's opinion is important.

Rody "loves" Manon, therefore Vince is jealous of Manon.

I suspect this is why Vince was willing to agree to a relationship with Manon in the hopes of killing her. See, he's so obsessed with cooking "love" for Rody that if you choose to give cheese to the rat in the kitchen on Day 4, Vince cooks the rat as one of the meals for Rody.

Why? Because Rody showed it love.

It's the exact same reason that he decided to murder and cook Manon into the Grilled Hanger Steak.

I know you're going to say "But, wait! He wanted to eat Rody too!" and yeah, he does eat Rody in Ending 4. But let me impart some wisdom onto you all as to why his meticulous plan took these tragic events.

I know it's tempting to buy into the idea that Vincent intended to eat Rody all along, but consider his dialogue in Day 7 for a moment.

As he's talking to Rody, Vincent reveals his true nature — all he wanted was for Rody to eat the steak he made and taste the love he felt for Manon. He never once mentions a desire to eat people himself. Not until Rody tries to escape and Vince snaps, declaring:

"But... Maybe you ..."

It's only then that Vincent actually starts attempting to kill Rody. After all, if he really wanted to kill Rody, he wouldn't be so willing to have a conversation with him (or get mad when he couldn't escape the freezer in Ending 2)

The issue in Vincent snapped when Rody found Manon's locket in the freezer. His plan was completely ruined, and with no plan B, he lashed out. It's also worth noting that Rach confirmed Vincent is a lightweight when it comes to alcohol.

Funny how he attacks Rody with a corkscrew and you find a broken wine bottle in his office, huh?

It isn't confirmed, but I consider it highly likely that Vince was drunk on the night of Day 7.

If Vince was inebriated when Rody made him snap, it would explain his impulsive and irrational behavior. Drunken minds lead one to do all sorts of things, and it's likely that it played a role in Vince's plan shifting from making Rody taste love...

...to eating Rody in the hopes of tasting anything love for himself.

Because it isn't Rody's love of Manon that Vince thinks he'll taste. That was never how the theory worked.

It would be Vince tasting his love of Rody.

Who's the Real Villain?

Vincent might be the antagonist of our story, but that doesn't necessarily make him the villain. After all, his actions were entirely circumstantial to Rody's behavior. Which means that—

You guessed it

Our true villain is Rody.

This is something I really love that I've noticed in the 3/5 Studio Investigrave games I've played so far — the protagonist tends to be an unconventional villain.

In Rody's case, I'm sure it comes as a shock considering his himbo-puppy demeanor, but if you take a step back and look at him it's pretty obvious. Everything in the story happened because of Rody's self-sacrificing behavior.

Rody's obsession with Manon fueled Vince's obsession with him. His unwillingness to see the consequences of how he treated himself allowed it to hurt everyone around him.

If Rody could have accepted his break-up with Manon, she might not have ended up dead. If he could have reigned in his obsessions then neither of them may have ended up dead.

In a better timeline, Rody and Vince may have even been able to find love in each other.

But this isn't that story.

This is a tragedy.

A timeline where everything goes to the worst possible outcome. Where obsession devoured three lives...

Thank you all for taking the time to read all of this!

If you'd like to discuss the theories or have any questions, feel free to ask or send me a message ~