#fought for it for so long and what was it all for.. yk

[duskstarskies]

bye sunshield is literally someone with nothing to lose (subz) and someone with everything to lose (zam)

[ozzgin]

Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.

-Doll

Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader

As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes? Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)

[Part 2]

You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.

A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.

Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.

This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.

You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.

"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.

He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.

Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naïve faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.

The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.

You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.

His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."

Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.

What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.

[dovveri]

twisted torturous love

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

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

w/c: 6.0k

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

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

"where are you going?"

"out."

"where?"

"out."

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

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

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

"why does it matter to you?"

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

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

"you used to like that i was clingy."

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

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

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

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

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"y/n."

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

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

"when are you not?"

she frowns, "that's not fair."

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

"that's not- no-"

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

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

you clear your throat, holding it up.

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

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

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

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

"be like what?"

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

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

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

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

"what? what are you trying to say?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"what?"

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

"i'm not lying!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖

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

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

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

"y/n. please sit."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod dumbly.

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

you stutter, "r-right now?!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you stand apprehensively, "n-nayeon."

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

you flinch at her tone "w-what?"

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

"i said, are you fucking stupid?"

"n-no?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"n-nothing."

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

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

"hmm, and if you're lying?"

"i'm not."

"prove it."

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

"how am i gonna prove it?"

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

"strip."

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

"strip."

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

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

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

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

"fine. leave."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you nod, afraid of speaking up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"m-mommy- i- oh fuck-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[tomssexdoll]

LOLZ I HAVE AN IDEA AND IM TRUSTING YOU WITH IT SO:

Basically 2007!Tom and Fem!Reader (she’s a bimbo if you’re okay with it) and they are enemies and roommates at the same time.

So like Tom and Y/n are just chilling in their rooms not caring about each other. Y/n is in her bed with her phone when suddenly ANGRY Tom bursts into her room (how nice of him) and screams at her for something stupid (you can choose what) and she gets up and BAM they’re screaming at each other and pushing each other around nd stuff.

And then they both get extremely horny bc it turns them on (?) and Tom pushes her onto the bed nd they fuck :3. Like really angry and rough sex and they’re both kinda dom if yk what I mean (I hope) and they’re basically just dirty talking to each other and it turns them on even more.

Yeah after that they just act like nothing happened :).

Gurl I hope this is enough detail ILY BYE <3

Love in Bitter Conflict

PAIRINGS: Tom 2007 x Female reader

CONTENT: SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Tom and Y/N are both college roomates, they absolutely hate each other and to their luck got put in the same shared apartment lease. Y/N is just chilling in her room when suddenly Tom bursts in, screaming at her, full of rage..

A/N: IM BACK BITCHES HEY BABY GIRL SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO COME OUT!!!

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (missionary), mutual masturbation (jerking off and fingering)

Me and Tom were both in college, we hated the college dorms, they were tiny and pathetic. We both decided to get an out of school apartment with a roomate. We both realized, of course, to our luck that the surprise roomate was our fucking enemy. We hated each other for years, the beef never ending.

We fought all the time, over stupid things. He'd always accuse me of shit just to start something. One day he bursted into my room, his eyes blazing with barely contained anger. "What the FUCK is wrong with you, you dumb bitch?!" he screamed, slamming the door shut, making me jump slightly.

"Woah, woah woah! What is your fucking problem? You can't just waltz in here and scream at me you dickhead!" I matched my volume to his, standing up. He pointed a finger at me, his voice sharp and intense, "you wanna know what my fucking problem is? YOU! You're my fucking problem!" he suddenly cloed the distance between us, getting right in my face.

I scoffed, looking at him in disbelief, "what the fuck did I do this time? Everyday there's a fucking problem!" I shouted in his face, not backing down for a second, knowing he was trying to intimidate me with the height difference.

"Every fucking day? EVERY DAY?! Do you want to know why I have a fucking problem with you?" He gestured wildly, his face inches from mine. "Because you're constantly under my fucking skin! Always starting shit!" I laughed in his face, "and what are you doing now DICKHEAD? You're no fucking saint! Now answer me, why the fuck are you bursting into my room, what the fuck did I DO?!"

"You leave your shit EVERYWHERE! I had to fucking wash your disgusting dishes because you're too fucking lazy to do them!" I rolled my eyes," that's what you fucking caused a scene over? Are you seriously that fucking arrogant? YOU KNEW I WAS GONNA DO THEM LATER!"

His eyes narrowed, "I'm fucking pissed, you're always so fucking careless! YOU LEAVE YOUR SHIT EVERYWHERE FOR ME TO FIND! LIKE A SLOB!" I pushed him angrily, "FUCK YOU! YOU ALWAYS START A PROBLEM WHEN YOU KNOW I'M GONNA CLEAN IT UP SOON, I'M BUSY STUDYING! Oh wait, you wouldn't know what that is because you're too fucking busy sticking your dick in girls to worry about your fucking grades!" I screamed.

He stumbled back slightly from the push, his face twisting with even more anger. His jaw clenched as he listened to me and for a moment it seemed like he was actually gonna punch me. "Fuck you. At least I'm getting some, unlike you..cooped up in here all day, fucking prude.." he sneered, his words cold and cruel.

"At least im not a fucking man whore," I laughed in his face, causing him to snap. In the blink of an eye he grabbed my arm roughly, pushing me up against the wall, his face inches from mine. "Fuck you! At least I'm not a fucking virgin who's never been touched!" he yelled, a vein buldging out from his forehead.

"At least I won't end up with 100 different STDS" I glared at him, he pressed harder against me, his usual composure shattering. "And at least I'm not a frigid bitch who couldn't get laid if she fucking tried!" his eyes flicked down to my lips for a split second before he caught himself. His words cut deep and I shoved him angrily, "FUCK YOU!"

His chest heaved with anger, he stepped forward and shoved me back, "no, fuck you!", I stumbled back slightly, my nostrils flaring with pure rage. I shove him back once again, "NO, FUCK YOU!" I screamed, my body shaking with adrenaline.

He suddenly went silent, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. He approached me in 2 long strides, grabbing my face and smashing his lips into mine.

"Mmmh..fucking..dirty slut.." he grumbled against my lips, aggressively moving his plush lips against mine. One of his hands tangled in my hair and the other snaked down to my waist, pulled me impossibly closer, grinding his erection against me.

"Piece of shit.." I snapped back, pushing my tongue into his mouth and elevating the already steamy kiss. He growled lowly and pushed me onto the bed, my body bounced from the impact and he immediately climbed onto the bed, trapping my body.

He kept kissing me aggressively while simultaneously taking my clothes off. His large, calloused hands gripped my tank top and shoved it over my head, breaking the kiss to move down and take my sleep shorts off.

He practically ripped them off, leaving me there only in a black lacy long, naked and vulnerable. His eyes darkened as he took in my body, my large perky breasts and sexy curves. "Fucking hell.." he mumbled and dove his face into my tits, licking and sucking every bit of skin he could, groaning loudly as his mouth found a nipple, the other hand playing with my other nipple, raining them both with attention.

I moaned softly and tangled my fingers in his hair, tugging harshly. He hissed at the pain, growling against my breast. "Fucking whore..." the sudden pain only igniting the fury and lust coursing through him. He bit down on my nipple, causing me to cry out, "FUCK!" he kept sucking hard, before switching to the other, marking me. "You're such a bitch..always wanting the last word, don't you?!"

He trailed kisses up my chest to my neck, sucking aggressively and biting, then grazing his tongue over the stinging bite. I whimpered, tugging at his hair, the heat between my thighs unbearable now. "You think you can just take over me like that? Talk to me like that and think I won't do anything?" I said, breathless. I launched forward and caught his lips in a passionate, aggressive kiss again, moaning into his mouth and fumbling with his jeans.

I managed to shove them down, along with his tight boxers. Without looking I grabbed his cock and started to jerk him off roughly, "fuck!" he yelped, waves of pleasure coursing throughout his body, his muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his defined abs.

"Fucking cunt..trying to fucking boss me around and think you'll get away with it, hmm?" I murmured angrily against his lips. His hips pumped into my fist as his hands found my pussy. He dragged my underwear off, slipping 2 fingers inside me. "Fuck yeah, stroke that dick...fuckkk.." he hissed, moving his fingers rapidly. He watched me stroke his length while his fingers pumped furiously in and out of me.

My whimpers and moans mixed with his deep groans and growls drove him crazy. I picked up my pace, jerking him off even faster, my thumb gently grazing over his tip everytime my hand came up to the head of his cock, "yeah you like that, huh?" I purred softly.

His eyes rolled back at the new skill, groaning loudly as I teased him. He loved the way my thumb hit his sensitive tip perfectly, grinning wickedly. "Fuck yeah, I love it..Keep going baby, just like that, it feels so fucking good." He could feel his balls tightening, his release building quickly.

He fingered me roughly in response, slamming them in and out repeatedly, curling them with expert precision, making me scream his name. "God you're so sexy..those moans are like fucking music to my ears.." he chuckled darkly.

The room was filled with our moans, the air thick with tension and lust. He brought his thumb to my clit, rubbing rapid circles over the sensitive bud, eliciting gasps out of me. I moaned and keep quickening my pace, we were essentially trying to make the other cum first, our competitive nature evident.

"Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna cum!" I squealed, my free hand holding onto the sheets desperately. "Cum for me you fucking bitch..cmon.." he murmured, his fingers moving even faster inside me, becoming more urgent as I announced my impending orgasm. He groaned as I kept jerking him off, his dick throbbing in my hand urgently.

With one last pump of his cock and one last thrust in my pussy we both came at the same time, thick ropes of cum squirting out onto my stomach, my pussy clenching around his fingers. I shakily removed my hand but his fingers remained, gently riding out my orgasm, making me squirm and whimper.

He eventually pulled them out, licking my release of his fingers, "so good.." he groaned, cupping my face and kissing me again. "You thought I was fucking done? I'm just getting started.." he growled against my lips.

He grabbed my legs roughly and wrapped them around his waist, grabbing ahold of his erect cock and lining it up with my entrance. Without hesitation he slammed himself into me fully, not giving me time to adjust, setting his pace hard and fast.

I let out a loud moan as he repeatedly hit my g spot, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding onto him desperately. I smashed my lips into his, aggressively kissing him. He did the same, our tongues fighting for dominance, both of us too stubborn to let the other win. "You drive me fucking insane" he growled against my lips, sliding his hand up and grabbing a fistful of my hair, tugging on it as he devoured my mouth with his.

He drilled his hips into mine, loving how i wirthed and moaned, despite me being desperate to be in control. "Fuck you, you fucking asshole.." I panted, breaking the kiss for a second. He took advantage of that, moving his head into my neck, I moaned and dug my fingers into his hair, tugging on the strands as his teeth sunk into my neck, marking my pale skin with angry red hickeys.

He wanted to leave his marks all over me, a savage declaration of his possession and fury. We went back and forth like this, trying to inflict pain onto each other to assert dominance, who was in control. He grunted lowly as I tugged harshly at his hair, gripping my hips harder, quickening his thrusts, making them punishing.

His tip slammed into my cervix over and over, while also hitting my g spot, creating a delicious sensation, making my moans louder and more desperate. "Bitch.." he grumbled, "cunt.." I snapped back, his cock throbbing inside me as he responded to my shared aggression.

He slapped my ass, causing me to yelp loudly, leaving a red handprint on my soft flesh. "Fucking whore.." he growled, knowing full well that the insults were fueling the angry sex even more. "But I thought I was a prude to you, hmm?" I taunted him. He snarled, his hips moving brutally, "shut the fuck up...fucking...fuck!" he groaned, I could tell that comment pissed him off even more.

I kissed him harshly again, our lips moving together with equal intensity. He snaked his hand between my thighs to rub my clit roughly, "you're such a fucking stuck up bitch.." he spat out, rubbing faster and harder, applying more pressure to my sensitive bud.

"Fuck!" I whined, my orgasm building rapidly. "That's it baby.." he smirked, kissing down my jawline. He wrapped an arm around me and held my back, pulling me up to his chest as he kept pounding into me. "Cum for me, you little slut.." he whispered, groaning as he felt my pussy clench around him, signalling my impending orgasm.

With one last thrust I let out a whiney moan, my legs trembling as my orgasm came crashing down. His eyes rolled back as he felt my pussy squeezing him like a vice, "FUCK!" he yelled out, shooting out cum in short spurts, painting my walls white.

"Holy shit...oh fuck.." he panted, our chest heaving against one anothers intensely. "Fuck baby...you're so fucking good.." he mumbled, laying me down and collapsing next to me. After we caught out breaths we turned to each other, bursting out laughing.

"We are a fucking mess, huh?" I said softly, my expression now soft compared to before. "Yeah..never speak of this again?" he held his pinky finger out, "deal.." I curled my pinky around his. He helped me clean up and got himself dressed, leaving my room as if nothing ever happened.

tags: @ballhair @bills-wife-1 @bkaulitzlover

tags: @billsdolliest @tomscumdoll @tomsfuckdoll

tags: @t0mkslut @emopriestgerard @starxbill

tags: @tokiohotelsbabydoll @gottaluvkiks @itsangelll

[joaosnovia]

hector fort with a sassy/bossy girlfriend who is actually a sweetheart🥹 like yes she will make something out of nothing- but she also give the softest praise when she wants to?

❦ - my favourite player.

summary:: you’re hector’s sassy girlfriend (with kindness 😛)

warnings:: it’s like not a proper fic yk? it’s just a ton of scenarios but too long for headcannons idek atp

writers note:: IM SO INCONSISTENT W POSTING I NEED TO START POSTING THESE AS SSON AS IM DONE WRITING OMDS THIS HAS BEEN IN MY DRAFTS FOR HOURS.

tags:: @barcapix @n0vazsq @httpsdana @paucubarsisimp ; lmk if u wanna be added or removed

hector fort never really knew what hit him when he started dating you. you walked into his life like a storm, sharp tongue, quick comebacks, and a look that could cut through steel, but underneath that bossy, sassy exterior, you were the biggest softie he’d ever met.

he learned that early on. like the first time you two went out and he showed up three minutes late. three.

‘oh, so you thought i didn’t deserve punctuality?’ you’d said, arms crossed, hip cocked to the side. ‘is that what we’re doing now, fort?’

he scrambled with apologies, cheeks red, swearing traffic was worse than usual. you just sighed, looped your arm through his, and murmured, ‘relax, i’m messing with you. but you are paying for dessert. non-negotiable.’

he never minded paying, especially when you’d grin at him over your ice cream, that spark in your eyes softening just a bit. and god, when you’d say things like, ‘you’re lucky you’re cute,’ it did things to him he didn’t know how to explain.

but it wasn’t just the teasing. it was how you supported him, how you believed in him even when he didn’t believe in himself. after that match he’d been kicking himself over for days, missed shots, sloppy passes, you cornered him in his apartment, hands on your hips.

‘hector fort, if you don’t stop beating yourself up, i swear—’ you cut yourself off, softened. stepped closer and cupped his face, fingers warm against his skin. ‘baby, you played so well. everyone has off days. i’m proud of you.’

he melted. every damn time.

sometimes, you’d get worked up over the smallest things, like when your coffee order was wrong. ‘how hard is it to do two pumps of vanilla, not three? i’m not asking for rocket science.’ you’d huff, glance at him, and when you caught him grinning, you’d roll your eyes. ‘...whatever. wanna sip?’

he loved that you’d fight anyone and anything, but when it came to him? you handled him with care. your bossiness wasn’t mean, it was protective. you demanded respect for yourself, for him, for the people you cared about. you were fire and warmth all at once.

and hector? he’d never been happier to stand in the middle of that fire.

it was in the little things, too. the texts before his matches, ‘score a goal for me, baby. or don’t. you’re still my favorite.’ the way you’d pull him aside after a rough day and say, ‘c’mere, let me fix your hair. you look like you fought a tornado,’ fingers gentle as you smoothed back his curls.

but nothing compared to the quiet moments. like when you thought he was asleep, and you’d whisper, ‘love you, y’know? so much it’s stupid.’ like he didn’t hear you. like he didn’t tuck those words away, holding them close on the nights he missed you the most.

hector fort knew you were a lot. sassy, bossy, dramatic. but god, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. because beneath all that, you were his soft place to land. his person.

and if you wanted to make something out of nothing, throw a fit over a late pizza delivery or a movie starting five minutes past the showtime? fine. he’d let you. hell, he’d stand right beside you and complain too.

as long as, at the end of the day, he still got to be the one you smiled at like that. the one you whispered those soft, precious things to when you thought no one was listening.

because you, with all your fire and sass and sweetness, you were everything.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi!

I love your writing and I have a small (really small more of a blurb) request for Jace, like a small scene between him and reader like we had last episode between him and Baela but I’d love to see how Jace feels about Harwin not just what he remembers of him but like what he feels about being a bastard and if he cares (or cared) for harwin, I’d love to see him trust the reader enough to really get into his feelings about being a bastard bc that’s definitely something that really affects him but it’s never vocalized yk? And I’d love to see the reader comfort him and tell him that harwin absolutely loved them BC HE LOVED THEM SO MUCH 😭😭😭

Thank u sm!!!

Request: Jace and Dornish reader talking about fathers and her asking about Ser Harwin like Baela did.

Warnings: mention of character death (past),

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

A letter came by raven from your father. It was a long way from Dorne, you didn’t receive them often. You thought it would brighten your day after the horrifying news and accusations about your Queen that came from King’s Landing, but instead it made you sad. To see his handwriting, to hear the words in his voice — in your head. 

You missed him — and your mother. 

Dragonstone was your home now. It was Jacaerys’ inheritance as heir. It’s where you would raise your children and spend your life until it would be his turn to take the Iron Throne. 

The sound of waves crashing against the rocks brought you to the beach. You sat on the sand, watching the waves ride up the shore. It was the only part of the island that connected to Dorne. You missed swimming in the gardens, the feeling of the warm sun on your skin, the fruits that grew. 

‘’You missed supper,’’ the voice of Jacaerys informed, coming from behind you. 

‘’I wasn’t hungry.’’ 

You heard his footsteps on the damp sand, accompanied by the sound of his sword rubbing against his breeches as he walked. 

‘’I don’t think anyone was, really. Too many empty seats.’’ He dropped down onto the sand beside you, and nudged your shoulder. ‘’Have you seen any whales?’’ 

You turned and gave Jacaerys a look. ‘’Whales?’’ you repeated. ‘’There is no whales here.’’ 

He laughed, well aware and only jesting. His jests usually made you smile, but a sad pout was etched on your face. ‘’What’s on your mind?’’ he asked, placing a hand on your knee. 

‘’I received a letter from my father.’’

‘’Your father?’’ Jacaerys’ smile dropped slightly, now replaced by a concerned look. ‘’Is everything alright?’’  

You gave him a small nod. ‘’Yes. All is well. I just…miss him dearly.’’ 

A quietness fell between you. The salt-laden breeze rustled through your hair as you fought the tears brimming your eyes. 

‘’What do you remember of your father?’’ you asked, breaking the silence.

‘’He taught us to catch fish. And sing sailor shanties,’’ Jacaerys said, a grin tugging at his lips and his eyes brightening with fond recollections.

You chuckled, the sound mingling with the rhythm of the waves.

‘’He had a weakness for cake,’’ he added. 

‘’And…Ser Harwin Strong?’’

Although you agreed to turn a blind eye, you knew the truth of Jacaerys’s true parentage. He bore the name ‘Velaryon’, but there was no Velaryon blood in him. 

Jacaerys stiffened at the mention of Ser Harwin, having not heard his name in so long. His mother never spoke of him after they returned from Laena’s funeral.  

‘’He was gentle. And fierce,’’ he finally said, his eyes meeting yours. There was a veil of sadness in them, missing the man who left too soon. ‘’They called him ‘Breakbones’.’’

You laughed softly, and Jacaerys mirrored you. It felt good to talk about Ser Harwin. 

‘’He loved us,’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice quieter, almost unsure. ‘’I think.’’ 

‘’Of course he did,’’ you quickly reassured, covering his hand on your knee with yours. ‘’When did you suspect he was your father?’’ 

‘’A part of me always knew he was our father,’’ he admitted, his eyes distant as he recalled his memories. ‘’He was always looking out for Luke and I in the training yard, and making sure we would behave around Mother. He taught me how to hold a sword, how to strike my opponent.’’ 

He paused, a particular moment sparking his mind. 

‘’One day, he defended me in the training yard during an unfair match: me against Aegon. Aegon was taking his anger out on me and playing foul while Ser Criston turned a blind eye. Ser Harwin noticed Aegon’s tactics and pulled me aside to give me advice, but Aegon was older and stronger. He kicked me to the ground and angrily swung his wooden sword at me. Ser Harwin intervened, taking Aegon away from me.’’

‘’He was protecting you.’’

Jacaerys nodded, his gaze fixed on the horizon. He remembered the fight against Criston Cole that followed. The fight that got Ser Harwin dismissed from the City Watch and sent to Harrenhal. He also remembered the horrible news he woke up to days later: Lord Lyonel Strong and his son, Ser Harwin Strong, had died in a fire.  

Being from Dorne, you had never met Ser Hawrin, but he sounded like he was a good man, a devoted father. 

‘’What did he look like?’’ 

‘’He was tall with broad shoulders. He was the strongest man in the Seven Kingdoms,’’ he said, his voice tinged with pride. ‘’He had dark curls and eyes—’’

‘’Like you,’’ you interjected with a soft smile. 

The dark curls that framed his face were the first thing you noticed when he stepped down his dragon in Dorne. As he got closer, his eyes caught yours and his stern face lit up, mesmerized by your Dornish beauty. Before he spoke a word to your father, you were already scheming your way into his heart — and breeches.

Jacaerys smiled, a faint reflection of his father in his expression. ‘’Like me.’’

‘’He would be proud of you. Of the kind and honorable man you’ve become.’’ 

Your words made his cheeks flush, the color deepening as you reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. He was so beautiful. Your hand lingered on his cheek, your thumb gently caressing his lightly freckled skin. 

He drew in a breath and looked down. ‘’I miss him.’’

—

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[theodorenmyth]

Could you make a continuation of 'For Old Times sake', where Mattheo starts to spiral to insanity because of M.reader's death and he chose to follow M.Reader into the afterlife. They meet in the afterlife, and Mattheo cries so much and asks for forgiveness but M.r tells him that he's at peace and doesn't really care for mattheo now yk. This leads to mattheo realising his wrongs and how even in the afterlife, he can't repair his relationship with M.r. Thank you :)))

I love your fanfics ❤️❤️

For what's already Lost

Pairings ; Mattheo Riddle x M!reader

Summary ; After witnessing the death of his childhood friend—someone he once cherished but later tormented—Mattheo Riddle spirals into guilt and grief. Unable to bear the weight of his actions, he attempts to take his own life, hoping to reunite with the one he lost. Instead, he wakes up in the hospital wing, surrounded by his friends, only to realize that no matter how much he regrets, he can never fix what’s already broken. As he breaks down, Theodore Nott offers him silent comfort, but even then, Mattheo knows—some wounds never heal, and some losses can never be undone.

A/N ; done and done! Enjoy the angst 😉

Warnings ; Heavy angst, Suicidal ideation,bDeath and grief, Self-harm implications, War violence, Emotional breakdowns, Guilt and regret, Depression, Character death, Mentions of past bullying, Trauma and PTSD themes

Word count ; 3.7K

Mattheo Riddle was losing his mind.

It started as a quiet thing, a whisper of grief curled around the edges of his thoughts, pressing against his ribs like a phantom ache. The first few nights after the war ended, he could still pretend it hadn’t happened. He could sit in his dormitory, staring at the ceiling, telling himself that you were just elsewhere—hiding, recovering, tending to your wounds like all the others.

But then he started hearing your name in hushed conversations, in the heavy silence that followed when people looked at him. He saw it written in ink on the lists of the dead. And suddenly, it wasn’t just a possibility anymore. It was real. Final.

You were gone.

The world had begun to move on without you.

But Mattheo?

He was stuck.

The first time he heard someone laughing in the Great Hall, something inside him twisted violently. How could they laugh? How could they act like everything was normal? Didn’t they know? Didn’t they care?

Didn’t they realize that you weren’t here anymore?

He barely ate. Barely slept. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw your blood pooling beneath you, your broken body slumped against the cold stone of the battlefield. He saw your fingers twitching weakly, grasping for something—reaching for him.

And worst of all, he saw the way your lips parted to speak, how your breath had shuddered as you forced out your final words.

"For old times' sake."

It haunted him.

That damn keychain sat on his nightstand, taunting him.

The same one you had given him as kids, the one that was supposed to be a promise, a reminder that no matter what happened, you would always be there for each other.

And he had thrown it away.

Not literally—but in every way that mattered. He had abandoned you, turned on you, mocked you, hurt you.

And yet, in your last moments, you still chose to save him.

Mattheo thought about that constantly. He thought about the scars on your arms, the ones you used to hide beneath your sleeves. He thought about the way you had flinched when he and his so-called friends cornered you in the halls, how you never fought back.

How much had you suffered because of him?

How long had you been hurting before he even noticed?

His stomach churned, bile rising in his throat as he clenched his hands into fists.

None of it mattered anymore.

He could beg for forgiveness.

He could weep until his voice was raw, curse himself until he had nothing left.

But you would never hear it.

You were gone.

And Mattheo was still here.

Alone.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

The bottle of firewhisky sat on his bedside table, half-empty. The room was dark, save for the flickering candlelight that cast jagged shadows across the walls.

Mattheo sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the small, tarnished keychain in his hands.

The last piece of you he had left.

His thumb brushed over the faded engraving, the one you had so proudly shown him when you were kids. Friends Forever.

It felt like a joke now.

A cruel, twisted joke.

His fingers trembled as he tightened his grip around the keychain, nails digging into his palm hard enough to hurt.

He barely slept anymore.

And when he did, it was nightmares.

Or worse—dreams where you were still alive, still standing before him with that same look of disappointment, that same quiet, aching grief in your eyes.

The war had ended weeks ago, but the battle inside his head never stopped.

He kept thinking—if he had just done something, if he had just listened when you tried to talk to him, if he had just been the friend you needed instead of the monster he had become—maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t have died saving him.

Maybe you would still be here.

Maybe he wouldn’t be sitting alone in this godforsaken room, drowning in firewhisky and regrets.

But maybe didn’t change anything.

Didn’t bring you back.

Didn’t erase the blood on his hands.

The silence was thick.

Unbearable.

Mattheo sat there, hunched forward, gripping his head, his fingers tangled in his curls, tugging—hard—like maybe if he pulled hard enough, he could tear the thoughts straight from his skull.

But they clung to him.

They clawed at his ribs, burrowed under his skin, whispering—

Coward. Liar. Murderer.

His chest heaved. His breathing was shallow, uneven, his vision swimming in the dim candlelight flickering across the walls.

He felt suffocated.

Like the air had turned thick, choking him from the inside out.

He didn’t deserve to breathe anyway.

Didn’t deserve to be here.

To live—when you didn’t.

Mattheo let out a ragged breath, his fingers dragging down his face, his throat burning, eyes stinging.

He had spent weeks in this room.

Weeks avoiding the others.

He had let you die.

And now you were gone.

Gone.

Gone.

GONE.

Mattheo’s vision blurred, the candlelight smearing across his sight like molten gold.

His wand lay beside him.

But magic was too easy.

Magic was an escape he didn’t deserve.

So instead, he reached for the knife.

It was small.

Silver.

The kind you’d use to slice fruit, but the edge was sharp.

Sharp enough.

His fingers curled around the hilt, grip tightening as he lifted it to his chest.

His breathing was steady.

For the first time in weeks, his hands weren’t shaking.

It was simple.

Quick.

The cold steel pressed against his ribs—

And then it was warm.

So, so warm.

The pain bloomed sharp and bright, a white-hot burn spreading through his stomach as he drove the blade deeper, gasping as his body instinctively recoiled, but he didn’t stop—

Couldn’t stop.

His vision blurred.

The warmth trickled down, soaking into his shirt, his pants, the floor beneath him.

His knees buckled.

His mind felt light.

Like he was floating.

And then—

A knock at the door.

Loud.

Persistent.

Mattheo barely registered it, his head lolling forward as the room spun.

“Riddle! Open the fucking door.”

Blaise.

His voice was sharp, edged with something Mattheo couldn’t quite place.

Another knock.

Harder this time.

“If you don’t open up in the next ten seconds, I’m blasting this door off its fucking hinges.”

Mattheo tried to speak, but his lips were numb.

The knife slipped from his grasp, clattering against the wooden floor.

The door rattled.

A pause.

Then—

A loud crash.

The wood splintered as Blaise shoved his way in, his wand raised, his expression shifting from frustration to horror in an instant.

“What the fuck—”

His voice was distant.

Muffled.

Like he was underwater.

Mattheo barely had time to register the movement before Blaise was in front of him, hands gripping his shoulders, shaking him hard enough to make his already spinning vision worse.

“No, no, no, no, you fucking idiot—”

Mattheo blinked sluggishly, his mouth parting, but no sound came out.

The warmth was spreading.

Fast.

Too fast.

Blaise’s hands left his shoulders, pressing against his stomach instead, hard and desperate as he tried to stem the bleeding, cursing under his breath.

“Stay awake,” he snapped, voice cracking. “Don’t you fucking dare—”

And then—

Footsteps.

Rushed. Panicked.

A chorus of voices, sharp with fear.

“What the hell is going on—”

Pansy.

Her voice was high, frantic, her heels clicking against the wooden floor as she stumbled into the room.

Then—

A sharp inhale.

A strangled noise.

“Oh my God.”

Mattheo barely managed to turn his head, but he saw the blur of dark hair, the way Pansy’s hands flew to her mouth, her face pale, shocked—

And then more voices.

“Move—MOVE—”

Lorenzo.

His voice was rough, filled with panic, and then he was kneeling beside Mattheo, hands hovering uselessly, eyes wide, chest heaving.

“Mattheo,” he choked out, voice barely above a whisper. “What did you do?”

Theodore was next.

He didn’t say anything at first.

Just stared.

And then his hands clenched into fists, his jaw tightening, his entire body trembling as he muttered, “You absolute moron.”

Draco shoved past them, his expression tight with something unreadable.

His hands shook.

Not much.

But enough.

Astoria hovered in the doorway, silent, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes suspiciously glassy.

No one moved.

No one breathed.

Until Blaise’s voice shattered the silence.

“Help me, you fucking idiots!”

The spell broke.

Lorenzo pressed down on Mattheo’s stomach, his hands warm, firm, his breathing shaky. “We need to get him to the hospital wing—now.”

“No shit,” Theodore snapped, already yanking off his scarf, wadding it up, pressing it against the wound.

Mattheo barely felt it.

His limbs were heavy.

His vision was swimming, darkening at the edges.

Someone was cursing under their breath.

Someone else was shaking.

And then—

A soft voice.

A whisper.

“…Why would you do this?”

Pansy.

Her voice cracked.

Mattheo didn’t answer.

Didn’t have the strength.

His eyelids were so heavy.

So heavy.

He slumped forward.

Blaise caught him.

Mattheo could hear them.

Panicked.

Yelling.

Begging.

But it was fading.

Everything was fading.

And the last thing he thought of—

The last thing he saw—

Was you.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

When Mattheo opened his eyes, the world around him was unnervingly quiet. No echoes of battle, no screaming, no pain. Just silence.

He stood in an endless field of golden light, stretching into eternity. The air was soft and still, the horizon painted in hues of a dying sun, neither rising nor setting. There was something eerily peaceful about it—something final.

And then—

A voice.

"Didn’t think I’d be seeing you so soon."

His breath caught in his throat.

It was you.

You stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the same as you always were—except you weren’t.

You weren’t looking at him with warmth. You weren’t looking at him with hate, either.

You were just… looking.

Expression unreadable.

Unmoved.

Distant.

Mattheo’s heart clenched so painfully in his chest he thought he might collapse. "Y/N…" His voice cracked on your name, raw with emotion, with regret, with everything he had never been able to say before.

You didn’t react. Didn’t move closer.

Didn’t welcome him like he had imagined.

Because why would you?

"You…" He took a shaky step forward, hands trembling. "You’re here."

A humorless smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Of course I am. You put me here, remember?"

The words were soft. Not sharp. Not bitter.

But they cut him deeper than anything ever had.

Mattheo stumbled back as if struck, his entire body shaking. "I—I didn’t—"

"You didn’t kill me, no." You tilted your head, eyes piercing into him. "But you might as well have."

He sucked in a sharp breath, guilt clawing up his throat like bile. His hands clenched into fists. "I didn’t mean to hurt you," he whispered. "I never—"

"You did."

He flinched.

You sighed. "I’ve had a lot of time to think, Mattheo. Time to let go of everything. And I have."

His stomach twisted.

That should have been a good thing, shouldn’t it?

You had let go. You were free.

But why did it feel like you were letting go of him?

"Y/N, please," he begged, voice breaking. "I came here for you. I—I couldn’t—" His throat tightened. "I couldn’t live without you."

You blinked slowly, as if considering his words. "So you killed yourself?"

The bluntness of your tone made his stomach lurch.

He swallowed thickly, his fingers twitching. "I thought maybe—"

"Maybe what?" You raised an eyebrow. "That dying would fix things? That suddenly, just because you followed me here, everything would be okay?"

He sucked in a breath, the truth behind your words slicing through him like a blade.

"I didn’t know what else to do," he admitted, voice hoarse. "I couldn’t stand it. Every day, every second—I kept thinking about you. About everything I did wrong. About everything I never said—" His voice cracked, and he let out a shuddering breath. "I needed to see you again. I needed to tell you that I—"

"That you what?" you asked, voice eerily calm.

He looked at you, eyes desperate, pleading.

"That I love you."

The words hung in the air between you.

For a second, he thought he saw something flicker across your face—something soft, something almost familiar.

And then you smiled.

But it wasn’t the kind of smile he wanted.

It wasn’t warm.

It wasn’t forgiving.

It was… sad.

Gentle.

Final.

"That doesn’t change anything, Mattheo."

His breath caught.

He had imagined this moment a thousand times. Had dreamed of seeing you again, of falling to his knees, of crying into your arms and begging for forgiveness, and maybe—just maybe—you would hold him.

Tell him it was okay.

Tell him you still loved him.

Tell him he wasn’t too late.

But he was.

He always had been.

His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, gasping for breath. "Please," he sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "Please, Y/N, I—I didn’t mean for any of this. I was a coward. I was a fool. I should’ve—I should’ve never left you behind."

You just watched him, silent.

He reached for the keychain around his neck, the same one you had given him as children. The edges were worn from years of being held, a small, meaningless thing in the grand scheme of life.

And yet, to him, it had meant everything.

He clutched it so tightly it left indentations on his skin.

"I never threw it away," he whispered. "Even when I pushed you away, even when I let everyone else hurt you, I—I never threw it away."

You looked at the keychain, but your expression didn’t change.

"You kept a memory," you said softly. "But you never kept me."

Mattheo’s breath stuttered.

His chest ached, his fingers shaking as he reached for you—

But you stepped back.

His world tilted.

"Y/N, please." His voice was barely above a whisper now, broken and raw. "I don’t want to be without you."

"You already have been," you murmured.

The truth of it crushed him.

"I forgive you," you said, and for a moment, his heart lifted.

But then—

"But that doesn’t mean I want you back."

His heart shattered.

He let out a strangled sob, curling in on himself.

"You should go, Mattheo," you said softly.

He lifted his head, dazed. "What?"

You nodded toward the distance, where a soft, golden light glowed in the far-off horizon.

"You don’t belong here yet."

The words made him freeze.

This wasn’t the end for him.

Not yet.

His mind screamed at him to stay.

To fight.

To refuse to leave your side ever again.

But when he looked at you—really looked at you—he realized something.

You weren’t his to fight for anymore.

You were already gone.

Even if he stayed, even if he wasted eternity in this in-between, you wouldn’t be waiting for him.

He had lost you long before you died.

And now, even in the afterlife, he would never have you again.

His breath hitched, his entire body trembling. "Y/N," he tried one last time, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You gave him one last, gentle smile.

And then, finally.

"Goodbye, Mattheo."

And just like that—

You turned away.

You didn’t look back.

And Mattheo felt it—the last piece of his soul breaking, shattering into nothing.

For the first time in his life, he had nothing left.

And for the first time in his life, he finally understood what true loss meant.

But there was no one left to tell him it was going to be okay.

No one left to save him.

Only silence.

And the distant glow of the horizon, beckoning him away from you forever.

──── ୨୧ ──────── ୨୧ ────

The first thing Mattheo felt when he woke up was the suffocating weight pressing against his chest.

It wasn’t the kind of weight that could be shaken off. It wasn’t exhaustion or physical pain—it was worse. It was grief, raw and relentless, curling around his ribs like thorns.

His throat was dry, his head ached, and his limbs felt heavy, like he had been sinking in an endless abyss and had only just barely clawed his way out.

For a moment, he didn’t move. He just laid there, staring at the ceiling, the edges of his vision hazy.

Then it hit him.

The war. The screams. The smell of blood and burning wood.

And you.

Lying there.

Bleeding.

Cold.

Gone.

Mattheo inhaled sharply, a shuddering breath that did little to stop the wave of nausea washing over him. His fingers curled into the sheets, gripping them as if they could anchor him to reality.

"Mattheo?"

The voice was groggy, thick with sleep.

Lorenzo.

Mattheo blinked, turning his head slightly. The dim light of the hospital wing made everything look softer, less sharp, like a dream he was still trapped in.

Lorenzo was sitting beside his bed, his long legs stretched out, his head tilted at an awkward angle against the chair. His hair was messier than usual, and there were dark circles under his eyes. His brows furrowed as he blinked blearily, as if trying to convince himself that Mattheo was really awake.

Then, as if something snapped inside him, Lorenzo shot upright, the chair scraping against the floor. "You’re awake," he breathed.

Theodore stirred beside him, rubbing his face with a tired groan. "What’s going on—" His words caught in his throat when he saw Mattheo, his usually composed face shifting into something unreadable.

The noise must have caught the attention of the others because within seconds, Blaise, Draco, Pansy, and Astoria all turned to look.

A heavy silence settled over the room.

Mattheo could feel their eyes on him, but he couldn’t meet them.

"You fucking idiot," Blaise muttered.

Mattheo barely had time to react before Lorenzo smacked his arm, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make a point. "Do you have any idea how long you were out?"

Mattheo swallowed, his voice hoarse. "How long?"

"Three days," Theodore answered quietly.

Three days.

Three days since he had tried to end it all.

Three days since he had seen you.

Three days since he had been forced to walk away.

Mattheo clenched his jaw, exhaling sharply. He suddenly felt nauseous.

Pansy scoffed, arms crossed over her chest. "Honestly, Riddle, if you wanted attention, you could’ve just asked instead of traumatizing all of us."

Draco shot her a glare. "Not the time, Pansy."

Pansy huffed but didn’t argue.

Astoria must have noticed the way Mattheo’s breathing turned uneven because she spoke gently, "You’re okay now, Mattheo. You’re safe."

Safe?

The word felt wrong.

How could he be safe when you weren’t?

He turned his head slightly, his gaze landing on the bedside table.

The air in his lungs froze.

The keychain.

The small, silver keychain you had given him all those years ago sat there, slightly tarnished but still whole.

Still there.

A broken sound escaped him—half a laugh, half a sob.

He had been trying so hard to reach you.

But you had already moved on.

You were at peace.

Without him.

The weight in his chest twisted painfully.

His breathing grew uneven.

Theodore moved before Mattheo could fully process it.

A pair of warm arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a tight embrace.

Mattheo stiffened.

Theodore had never been the kind of person to offer physical affection easily. He wasn’t like Lorenzo, who threw an arm over your shoulder like it was second nature, or like Pansy, who grabbed your hand whenever she was talking. Theodore was distant, composed, always holding himself back.

But right now—right now, he wasn’t.

Right now, he was holding Mattheo like he knew.

Like he understood.

Like he had been waiting for Mattheo to break.

And Mattheo did.

The first sob tore through his throat, shaking his entire body. His fingers clenched in Theodore’s robes, gripping them so tightly his knuckles turned white.

Theodore didn’t say anything.

He just held him.

Mattheo buried his face in Theodore’s shoulder, his whole body trembling as the sobs wracked through him.

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair.

You were supposed to be here.

You were supposed to be alive.

You were supposed to tell him that everything would be okay.

But you weren’t.

You never would be.

And even in the afterlife, you had looked at him like he was nothing more than a ghost of the boy you once knew.

His chest ached.

His heart shattered all over again.

Theodore tightened his grip.

"It’s okay," he murmured. "You’re okay."

Mattheo squeezed his eyes shut.

No, he wanted to scream.

'I’m not.'

'I’ll never be."

Draco and Blaise exchanged a glance from the corner of the room, their chess game long forgotten.

Pansy was staring at the floor, her lips pressed tightly together. Astoria’s eyes glistened with something unreadable.

Lorenzo sighed, running a hand through his hair. "We should’ve done something sooner."

No one disagreed.

Because they all knew.

They had all seen it—the way Mattheo had spiraled after your death.

The way he had barely eaten, barely spoken, barely even existed.

They had tried to help, in their own ways. Pansy had snapped at him to pull himself together. Blaise had sat beside him in silence. Astoria had offered quiet reassurances. Draco had tried to be patient. Lorenzo had been the only one who dared to bring you up.

But nothing had worked.

Nothing had been enough.

And now, Mattheo was breaking apart in Theodore’s arms, sobbing like he had held it all in for too long.

Lorenzo swallowed hard.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was.

But that didn’t change the fact that you were gone.

And Mattheo was still here.

For now.

Mattheo didn’t know how long he stayed like that, clinging to Theodore like he was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

When he finally pulled back, his face was damp with tears, his throat raw.

Theodore studied him carefully, his expression unreadable.

Then, in a rare moment of vulnerability, he placed a hand on Mattheo’s shoulder. "You’re not alone," he said softly.

Mattheo let out a shaky breath.

He didn’t believe it.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But he nodded anyway.

Because what else could he do?

Because you were gone.

And he was still here.

Even if it didn’t feel like he was.

[imjunebitch]

common talking points (that i want to blow up with psychic brain powers)

"the, uh, the feminine 'trans man/masc' with long hair who doesn't bind and isn't on hrt and doesn't voice train"

is valid and cool. also fuck you. also 100 more like him rather than even one more vile, transphobic, exclusionist snake like you

"these fucking xenogenders with three alternating sets of neopronouns who whine if you can't get it right"

hey, fuck you, again. but also why the fuck are you not enthused by people coming with terminology they like for themselves? why is that something you oppose? also, you do know that using singular they/them as the default for nonbinary pronouns is relatively recent, and that prior to that the default was ze/hir, although they/them was also used, right? no? you're just enjoying the chance to be the "normal person" hating on the "weird people" even though it's your own community and allies? oh, that's fucking cool.

"transmascs are uniquely capable of transmisogyny/transition into privilege/ are the weak link of the trans community"

first, yk, fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. ive tried so many ways to demonstrate that this is a shitty shitty awful hurtful way of thinking, that it harms all trans people... maybe ill try a parable, like my man jc.

there was a man and two dogs. the man owned a dog fighting ring, and he would constantly put the two dogs against one another, and charge others to watch, allow them to place bets, etc. he did this daily for a long period of time. whichever dog lost he would beat, and whichever won he would reward.

why would one of the dogs hate the other, and not the man? because the other dog fought them? because if the dog won, they would be beaten?

does this work, as a metaphor? does that make sense? let me tell you something: i live in the American South, and just over the past couple of days i have seen actual disgusting transphobia lobbed at all trans people. my own peers talking about killing all trans people, and direct insults. they do not fucking care about what flavor of trans you are, they just fucking hate you anyway. and if you're using your time and your influence to shit on your own allies on your own trans siblings, to try to say they have it better than you, to insult them and try to decide what terminology a group you're not fucking part of gets to use to describe their own experiences, you are part of the problem. fuck you. use your influence to help others, and don't demonize people for defending themselves against you. transmascs are not the fucking "weak link of the trans community. " exclusionists like you are. bigots want to destroy us, to divide and hurt us. STOP DOING THEIR FUCKING WORK FOR THEM.

[rae-writes]

just a few more

Diavolo, Barbatos, Mephisto + two bonus characters // 3.k wc

     *disclaimer: this is written as poly!romantic mc + all dateables

not only did Mc bag the seven lords of hell, they also ended up bagging the prince, his butler, and his highest ranking noble. Yk, as they should.

a/n : we’re gonna pretend Diavolo didn’t say he couldn’t form a pact with us just bc he’s the prince/future king because I think that’s a load of shi—

It all started with you mentioning how pretty you thought Barbatos’ pact was. You said it casually- in passing- when you and the brothers had been over for tea. They were all fighting (with the exception of Lucifer and maybe Beel and Satan) over who’s pact mark looked the best when you dropped the bomb.

“Come oooon, Mc! You don’t havta pick a favorite or anythin’, just tell us which one looks the best!”

“That’s the same thing, moron!” 

“OI!”

Smiling, you picked the choice least likely to start a fight, “I think Barbatos has a pretty sigil. Solomon showed me once.” Yep- there definitely wasn’t any room to argue when they all had their jaws on the floor. 

Oh, but you sent a shock of heat straight through Barbatos, who was the last one expecting your particular reply. 

Not even the uproar from the brothers or the shit eating grin from his master could make that heat dim. In fact, it only grew stronger at the mischievous smile you sent him.

And then you showed up on the castle’s doorstep, bruised and bleeding, while crying out his name. 

“B-bar— Barba-tos! Barbatos!” it was the only coherent thing he could decipher as he watched you sob violently into his chest, fist clutching his shirt so hard he almost thought it’d rip. 

You’d been in the Devildom for so long now, it was a shock that anything could scare you this badly- but when you managed to choke out that a group of demons ganged up on you, the butler felt searing hot threads of possessiveness and rage grip at him. 

They’d touched you- hurt you. You were probably crying out for him while you fought your attackers and he didn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear it.

The final blow to his wavering resolve came only an hour later : 

“Why didn’t you call one of the brothers? You could’ve gotten fatally wounded if you hadn’t been using your magic.” He was scolding you. 

And you were smiling. “I didn’t want one of them at the time. I wanted you.” 

…oh. 

“B-rb…Ba-rb-os…Barbatos!” 

He blinked, staring at you blankly, “Huh?” Did he really just space out? 

“I said I’m sorry for worrying you and putting my life in danger. I’ll be more careful next time and call on my pacts.” 

Your pacts. Pact. “May I have the pleasure of entering a pact with you?” 

Surprised, you stared at Barbatos like he had three heads for a moment. “Me? A p-pact with me? But I thought—“ 

Barb interrupted by grasping your hands and bringing them to his lips, “If you think I do not trust you, I must ask you to think again.” 

You watched him press your intertwined hands against his chest, where his heart is, before he was leaning closer- closer than he’d ever been. 

“I trust you, Mc. Do you trust me?”

Voice nothing more than a whisper and without a trace of hesitation, “Yes. I’ll make a pact with you- I want to make a pact with you.” 

Barbatos’ eyes darkened ever so slightly as he gave you a genuine smile, “Excellent.”

Then his lips were on yours and your hands broke apart so he could cup your face while yours went straight to his hair and you could faintly feel the tingle of your new bond but kissing him felt too surreal for you to even begin deciphering where it was located. 

7 -> 8

†

Mephisto was certain he only tolerated you due to your closeness with the seven brothers and his lord- it’s all anybody heard him run his mouth about when you were mentioned. But when he got scolded by his kid brother for saying such things about you, he simply decided he had to see what everyone saw in you- and boy, was he straight up beat down with the realization. 

“Good morning, Mc.” 

Without even questioning why he was suddenly speaking to you out of the blue, you smile brightly and stop walking, “Morning, Mephisto! I like your tie, is that one new?” 

He blinks in surprise— you…noticed? “Yes, it is. I thought I might change things up every now and then.” 

“It’s pretty! Like you!” Not even embarrassed at such a bold comment, you point in the direction of the newspaper club’s office (which was opposite of the student council’s- where you were supposed to be going), “I’ll walk you to your office so we can talk some more, yeah? I don’t get to see you much!” 

One day he caught you taking care of his little brother and the feelings just intensified. 

“Now, now, none of that. You’ll make your eyes all swollen-“ you wiped away the boy’s tears, “and then your little head will hurt-“ your hand ruffled his hair playfully, “and we can’t have that, can we?” 

Mephisto watched you carefully doctor his brother’s scraped knee, not noticing his feet were moving until he was right beside you.

Smiling at the excited ‘big brother!’, you glance up in acknowledgment before placing a bandaid over the injury. “All better!” You kiss his knee, giving him another on the forehead before helping him stand. 

And as you and Mephisto watch the younger demon run off with a wave, he can’t help but feel the slightest bit miffed at the kisses you’d given said demon. It must’ve shown too, because—

“Oh, ‘Phisto,” you couldn’t stop giggling, even after you’d grabbed his face and pulled him down, “If you want a kiss, all you have to do is ask.” 

You kissed him on the cheek, patting it afterwards, before leaving with a grin (and leaving him behind with a blush and a hint of possessiveness). 

Not even a full week after that, Mephisto quickly decided that you simply couldn’t go any longer without it. 

“Form a pact with me.” He stamped down the urge to shuffle nervously under your surprised stare, “..please?” 

Your expression slowly morphed into a giddy smile, “I’d love to make a pact with you, ‘phisto.” Feeling the familiar warmth of the forming sigil, you beamed at him. 

He could feel it too; the bond threading itself together— his first (and only) pact. “Mc…” his tongue felt like lead but he knew what he wanted. All he had to do was ask. “May I have a kiss?” 

“As many as you want.” You sounded breathless as you brushed over his lips with your own, connecting them eagerly once he grabbed onto your hips. 

He nearly jumps when you grab onto his tie, though he steels himself and pulls you even closer, not daring to break the kiss for more than a couple seconds at a time. Now that he’s felt this…Mephisto doesn’t think he can live without it. 

8 -> 9

†

Your pact with Diavolo, while he truly wanted to have that relationship and bond with you, mostly happened due to childish jealousy. He’d dealt with your happy ramblings about your pact with Barbatos for months, but then…

“Another pact? With Mephisto? How ever did you manage that?” 

Either you didn’t notice the strain in Diavolo’s voice or you simply didn’t bother pointing it out, your smile stayed as you hummed happily. 

“I didn’t really do anything. ‘Phisto just came up to me all of a sudden and asked to make a pact.” 

“He asked?” If Diavolo wasn’t bothered before, he sure was now. Mephistopheles in a pact? It was simply unheard of, and now, he was the only demon in your group without a pact with you. “I see…”

It was such a petty feeling, because truly, he was thrilled for all of his friends— Diavolo just felt undeniably left out despite no one treating it that way [but him].

“I swear if the four of you stubborn bastards don’t take a break, I’ll make you!” giving a deadpan stare, you crossed your arms and stood in front of the demons seated at the student council table. 

Mephisto relented immediately, having heard of what exactly you can do with your pacts, and chose to go get some coffee. Lucifer- after a quick staredown- followed the noble, but not without leaving a kiss on your hand in silent ‘thanks’. Barbatos and Diavolo, however, remained in their spots.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Mc, but we really must finish; these are documents for RAD’s-”

“Barbatos. Take a break.” you watched his hands release the papers involuntarily, smiling at his incredulous stare, “At least go eat something. Please.” when Barb reluctantly stood from his chair, you turned to Diavolo and leaned to rest your forehead against his. “Just because I can’t make you, doesn’t mean you’re exempt from this. Up- come on.” 

And while his heart was practically beating out of his chest at the care you showed for him, that ugly jealousy still churned inside him at the clear display of difference in your relationships between him and the others. 

Everything finally bubbled over the day you confessed to him :

“Apologies, Mc, but could you…repeat that?” 

Ducking your head to hide the flush of your cheeks, you fiddled with your fingers, “I like you, Dia- if that wasn’t already obvious, and Barbatos and a few of the others agreed that I should tell you and ask if you’d like to date me too…”

Diavolo answered a bit too fast and desperate for his liking, “Yes! I-I mean, yes, I would be overjoyed to be in a relationship with you, Mc.” 

“But?” you squinted, knowing something was- and had been for a while- on his mind. “What’s wrong? You’ve been like this for weeks.”

“Nothing is wrong, I just…” Follow his heart or follow the rules? “I just want to be in a pact with you like all the others.” he averted his eyes, feeling childish when he spoke those feelings aloud. 

You only giggled, “That’s it, huh? I would love to enter a pact with you, Dia. Wait- are you even allowed? As the prince and future king, I mean?”

As soon as you agreed, his hands were already cupping your face, “I don’t care-” his lips finally, finally met yours as his feet began moving, walking you backwards until you hit the wall, “-I decide what I want and I’ve wanted you for so long, been jealous of the others for so. long.”

With the pact etching itself into your skin, you couldn’t deny him anything in that moment, completely enamored with the way Diavolo was practically begging for you, still, even though he already had you. 

9 -> 10

+bonus

When Simeon fell completely, wings black and horns protruding from his head, he desperately needed something to ground him while he worked through his new body and new status. 

“They’re so pretty, Si.” You were brushing through his wings softly, smiling at the contrast it brought to your glittery nails, “Your horns, too.” 

Simeon shifted, nervous despite your words at letting anyone else see his new form. “Do you really think so?” his spine straightened at the feeling of your lips pressing kisses down his back. 

“I do. You’re so beautiful- angel, human, or demon.” Nuzzling your head into his neck, you smiled against the skin, “In fact, I’m going to have to fight off so many demons just to keep you to myself.”

That made him chuckle, body relaxing into yours easily, “Nonsense…that might be quite a sight, though.” 

Adjusting wasn’t hard— he thinks he had an easier time at it than the brothers, but he couldn’t help but feel something was missing.

It was difficult to not fiddle with his outfit, but in Simeon’s defense, this was his first time at one of Diavolo’s formal parties as a demon— and the first time everyone saw his demon form. 

Tsking, you gently slapped his hands away and re-straightened his shirt. “Don’t pay any attention to the staring. You’re just too pretty to look away from.” 

He knew it was because, in all technicalities, he was a fallen angel, even if he’d been human before this. But he also knew that if anyone was an expert in unwanted spotlight attention, it was you. 

“I’ll try not to, thank you, Mc.” Simeon smiled at your pleased expression, “May I have this first dance?” 

As the night went on, he watched you dance with the other nine demons (and with the other members of Purgatory Hall). Everything was like it always was- nothing changed after he became a demon. Still though….

“Simeon!” you called out with a bright smile, hand waving him over to join the dancing circle you, Mammon, and Asmo had created. 

He felt as if there was something absent in him, something he couldn’t describe. “I’m coming.” 

Finally, Simeon figured out the missing puzzle piece. 

Laying with you, clad in only your underwear, always brought him a sense of love and tranquility. He simply couldn’t get over how vulnerable and exposed you were willing to be around him.

“Siiimeonnn~” you sang, laughing when his eyes fluttered sleepily. Your fingers carded through his hair, making him hum in delight, and you hummed right back at the faint feeling of his nails tracing over your pacts. 

He continues to trace the slightly raised skin, not thinking too much about it until you mumble something about how he’s always had a fascination for the marks adorning your body. At that, Simeon sits up quickly, all traces of tiredness gone.

You follow his lead worriedly, “Simeon? What’s-”

“Make a pact with me. Please, Mc, please, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything more- I knew something was missing when I became a demon and now I know it’s because everyone else is bonded to you but me. I couldn’t have that with you as an angel or human but I can now. Please, Mc, allow me to be selfish just this once.”

“Oh, Si…” there was an undeniable warmth blooming in your chest. “You never needed a pact to feel bonded to me— you’ve always been perfect the way you are.” 

Simeon let out a shaky breath, allowing you to shift closer while his heart thumped wildly in anticipation. 

You moved even closer, and closer still, until you were practically in his lap. “You can be as selfish as you want with me. I’m yours, and now-“ your lips brushed, “-you belong to me, in turn. I’m honored you trust me enough for this, Simeon, of course I’ll make a pact with you.” 

And although your lips have met in this dance time and time again in the past, and will surely do the same in the future, it still sent shivers down his spine and heat to his face. 

When his hands move to trace your pacts out of habit again, his is the first he finds- guided by your own hands- and devils does that make Simeon’s head spin; he’s finally complete.

10 -> 11

++extra reverse!bonus [no specific demon form]

For someone with 72 pacts and ongoing shameless attempts at getting Lucifer into one, it surprisingly didn’t occur to Solomon once you became a demon (in his defense, he was more focused on your well being and adjustment). 

“You need to stop scratching, Mc. I know it itches, but you’re going to get an infection. You’ll get used to them eventually.” 

While he was lecturing, you were practically boneless in his lap, keening as he softly rubbed your horns and applied ointment on the irritated areas. 

“Are you even listening to me?” He huffed in false annoyance, feeling a smile fight its way onto his face when you whined at the loss of his touch. 

Nudging your head against his hand, you stubbornly huffed right back. “Yes. Don’t be mean- feels good. You're so sweet to me…” 

“Don’t get used to it, darling apprentice. You’ll learn how to do this yourself eventually, too.” 

And while you did in fact get the hang of caring for your own demon form, you simply enjoyed when he did it instead. 

“You know, each of the ten demons you have wrapped around your finger would jump at the chance to help you.” 

You hummed in agreement, curling in on yourself at the blissful feeling of Solomon grooming your extra appendage(s). 

He lifts a brow, “And yet I’m still called, why? No complaints here of course, but I am curious.” 

“Want you.” Stretching, you shift onto his lap to be closer, “Don’t you want me anymore, Sol?” 

Solomon inhales sharply, tilting his head so you have more room where you’re nipping at his pulse point with your sharpened canines, “Of course I do, Mc.” 

The lightbulb finally goes off in his brain when he catches you glaring at his bare upper body, to which he’s all too happy to oblige you : 

“What’s with that look?” Based on the tone of his voice, he very well knew what said ‘look’ was for. 

You bared your teeth anyway. “You’re mine.” nails scratched over the pacts on his lower stomach as your hands gripped and prodded at every small inch of bare skin you could see. 

Solomon wanted to see just how possessive a new demon could get. Did you have those instincts yet, especially since he was already yours beforehand? “I am. So why don’t you prove it?” 

“Gladly.” Your voice came out as a low growl, hands finally coming to a stop when your fingers brushed ever so slightly below his belt. “I think mine will go riiight…here.” You pressed down over his pelvis firmly. 

He tried not to stutter, “o-oh?” but he could feel the blush snaking up his face. 

“Make a pact with me, Solomon. ‘S not fair you have so many marks but mine…mine’ll be the prettiest, though…especially on you.” 

“Fuck- yes, I’ll form a pact with you, Mc—“ Solomon’s back arches at your pact etching into his skin, having forgotten the feeling, but the knowledge that it’s yours makes it all the more better. 

“mine, mine, mine. Is this proof enough, or do I need to prove it further?”

[twipsai]

this one panel in issue #50 and it's, like, not THAT bad alright

fuck it im tired and had a long day this is my treat to myself. im talking about that panel. yes, THAT panel. which one?

THIS ONE. alrighty this is off the cuff and terrible, lets go.

so this panel isnt like, that bad in context when it comes to Sonic. i think specifically "ive made peace with enough enemies to know there is a better way" is a really interesting line here, because it calls back to the amount of times that the "villain" hes fought has just been a person whos hurting, and how hes been able to help those people. it makes sense that eventually hes more keen on trying to figure out someones whole story before deciding if theyve gotta go (which is rare).

but i want to talk about the FRAMING of this panel, and specifically the larger context of this issue in particular. theres a lot of flip-flopping in perspectives. usually, IDW is told through Sonic's perspective (loosely, this kind of thing is up to interpretation a lot), but in issue 50, it switches rapidly between four different groups -- Sonic and Surge, Tails and Kit, Eggman and Starline, and Belle and Metal. within these groups, the perspective its being told from changes a few times, but never as much as Sonic and Surge's do

i actually love these two when they interact as a storyteller myself, and one that has handled scripts too often for my own liking. Sonic and Surge do this thing where they push and pull the pacing of the script to fit their motives -- Surge keeps trying to escalate things, whenever shes in a panel everything starts pushing rapidly and it feels like the panels are tumbling off the page. when Sonic does anything, though, its slow and deliberate. hes having fun fighting, sure, but he can very much tell that Surge is trying to kill him and hes not having any of that. Sonic keeps things slow and focused, Surge tries to push things faster and unfocused. i could get into how this reflects her motivations and stuff but thats not what this is about i already lost track of what i was talking about fuck hang on

ok so. Surge knows shes supposed to be Sonic, to be BETTER than Sonic. its all she knows, really, and thats the problem. shes traumatized and full of rage and Sonic has been put on this high pedestal, not just by her, but by everyone. she cannot stand this.

this panel is how SURGE sees Sonic, specifically the composition. hes shrouded in light and physically above her -- its not even that subtle of a metaphor, they use it all the time in idw.

the entire overpowered saga shows Surge clawing for control of herself, her life, her freedom... this issue sets all that up in the main story. the way Sonic is framed here isnt how he sees himself at all. weve seen him do this exact same thing from his own perspective before, where everyone is on even ground. he doesnt see himself as above anyone, this instance of him being depicted as such isnt alluding to how Sonic feels about himself, its how Surge feels about Sonic.

and, look, its not the most well-done in the world. this issue has a whole host of problems, evident by the constant switching of focus from one group to a next (a problem that i think they did better on in the Phantom Rider saga). i literally forgot about Belle and Metal in this issue bc theres just so much more going on, i wouldve loved for them to slow things down a bit, maybe splitting it into two issues, but hey, what can you do, yk?

as an aside, i think its really weird how people narrow in on this specific panel of Sonic as being "so out of character", which i sorta like, 30% agree with (i think some phrasing could be better), and then ignore the page right after it...

...in which he pretty much says "you dont get freedom if youre gonna be a problem". funnily enough, on twitter i have this flow chart saved whenever i need a quick guide on Sonics morality and stuff, its really not that complicated

x

none of this is new imo, we see he has the same philosophy in sa1 and satbk. Chaos was blinded by rage and pain after being trapped for thousands of years RIGHT after they were attacked by the echidnas. Merlina was so scared of death (implied to be because she had lost family members and wasnt able to cope with it well) that she became a monster in an attempt to never let anything change ever again. these arent very different stories in my head i guess, just cases of Sonic seeing people who are hurting and doing his best to free them from that.

uhhhh anyways. all this is disorganized i forgot what i was talking about like 5 times while writing this but. people on twitter are ripping into this issue again. like its a b tier issue stop acting like its an f yk Q_Q i will defend anything if people are too mean tbh

thanks for making it this far if you read all this. i love idw a lot and i think that it does have some flaws, theyre all really blown out of proportion.

have a great day/afternoon/evening wherever you are yall :) bye bye

[lizzy019]

Ok how abt a Dallas drabble where he just got out of the cooler after a long period of time and he really just needs to use you, yk, after all that time in the jail he lets out all his pent up energy. Do with that information as you want…😏

~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~~~🌿~~~~~~~~~~~ 18+ ~~~~~~~~~

Even though Dally was out of his cell and free from his crimes, he continued to commit them.

Speeding down the highway roads with an unbuckled seatbelt, he was determined to get to your house and take you raw. Fuck the condom and the pills, he needed to breed you and make you his.

He needed you in totality.

Dangerously sharp left and right turns were made, going about 90mph just to touch you. He knew you'd feel special if he told you that, so it's exactly what he did. Dally may have been considered a liar, but to you? He'd never lie unless absolutely necessary.

Driving down the roads of your neighbourhood was hard to navigate with all the people wandering around. Sure, he was a speeder, but hitting people with a car was a bit out of his comfort. Especially since he just got out of jail!

Soon, he found your house, and within a heartbeat the car was parked and he had hopped out.

Dally now stood a bit anxiously at the door to your home, his hand curled into a fist waiting to knock at the dark wood of your entryway. What if in those few months he was gone, you'd found someone else? What if you were cheating like Sylvia had?

No, you wouldn't do that, right?

His hand finally knocked on the door, and he cursed at himself silently. Maybe he should've just headed home and jacked off to the thought of you, it would've been a better option anyway. Or he could always call you too...

The door was swung open by you, and great heavens, Dally was stunned.

You were so beautiful. The hair, the eyes, the body, the slight smile, the pinky cheeks, oh God, he swooned all over again.

"Dally! You're back!" You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around his torso tightly as you hugged him with full intent.

It didn't take long until Dally's arms clutched your body, his face pressing into your hair as he fought himself to stay composed. God, he was so relieved to see you and to see your excitement for his arrival.

His arms were now wound around your waist, and he couldn't resist any temptation when your smell wafted to his nose.

In an instant, Dally's hands were groping your ass and thighs, his head falling to the crook of your neck and peppering soft kisses to the flesh of it as he happily tried to push you indoors so no one could see.

It didn't take long after that for the both of you to be situated onto the sofa, already practically bare to each other and mindlessly kissing away until your hearts were content. It was messy, yes, and definitely a bit too passionate, but it didn't matter.

Dally was back and better than ever.

You were scrabbling to take off your panties, to show yourself to him and make him truly admire what he'd missed for those horrible, lonely months.

It was a bit rushed, but good God, Dally was practically drooling when you showed him yourself. You were so pretty, your exposed tummy and thighs as well as that cute, puffy cunt of yours. His fingers trailed down to collect some of your slick to lube up his cock.

Once he was lubed up, he spent no time prepping you. Dally was too desperate to do it.

With a hip thrust up into you and his hands pulling you down, Dally moaned out in relief when he was finally connected with you. Oh God, he hadn't felt such pleasure even when jacking off to the thought of you. This was his little slice of heaven.

Soon, it was like clockwork. His thrusts met yours as you bounced on him, your body growing weary from all the aggressive movements. But you couldn't stop, you finally had Dally, your lovely criminal, with you in totality.

Your shared moans created a symphony, a melody of sounds that far overcame any dulcet sound you had heard previously. If only this song could continue to be played.

"Dally! Oh Dally, I missed you! Missed you- fuck..!" You whined out, hands digging little crescents into his shoulders as you writhed on his lap.

Dally smirked, thrusting a bit harder while chuckling.

"You missed this cock more, didn't you, sweetheart? Look atchu, takin' it so desperately. Fuckin' slut. My fuckin' slut." He snarled, really getting you off when his finger came to rub constant, hard circles to your clit.

You moaned loud, practically letting a scream rip through your body as you found yourself cumming from the touch to your clitoris, and your legs seized temporarily as Dally thrusted you through your high.

It didn't take long until Dally came too, a deep groan resonating from his throat as he filled your welcoming womb with whatever amount his cock would give so graciously to you. It was a lot from how long it'd been, and a puddle of mixed cum pooled under the clothes you used as a barrier from the sofa.

So with heavy sighs and lots of cuddling, you two were finally content in a sexual way, but also in a mental and physical state. His arms around you, your breasts on his chest, it was all so serene and familiar that it was lulling you both into a comforting moment of rest.

And you both had succumbed to the strengths of exhaustion.

[amarasletters]

⟡ ݁₊ . 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲: 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ༘⋆ ྀིྀི

"white swans of secrecy, drifting and drifting, secretly dividing, the still waters of infinity." — D.H. Lawrence (Swans)

The lake is still, a mirror of the glass kissed by the silver strings while the swans lay upon it—as if carved by winter itself. It wafts along like its reflection, rippling like a half-forgotten dream.

Well, Tchaikovsky's swan, Andersen's enchanted bird, Leda's omen—swans have always belonged to the world in between. But to us, they are very much miraculous universe travelers. They're more than feathery birds and ballet, perhaps symbolism at its peak.

I think swans are symbols because they've appeared countless times at the most unexpected places and incidentally each of these occasions I wasn't exactly in the best mindset sooooo…

here's a rant from my delusional mind as to why swans are NOT just swans and are in a very biblical, metamorphic, liminal-ish symbol, WHICH humanity really isn't uncoding. (code for why did *i* realise earlier?!?)

one.

swans are always depicted as creatures that glide effortlessly, with one such certain grace, poised, untouched by urgency, always calm, as if it knows the outcome…

they always seem unattainable, as if all there was to achieve they already did.

very similar. yes. it's you, it's me, it's US.

now, sure, maybe it's not us now, but it's us exactly right now because you and I, are basically gaslighting ourselves into this void that convinces us we don't know much but, then again, you say you believe in shifting, you long for people you've never met, you find comfort in books and movies you cannot perceive and that is because it's calling you again, back to that lake, to go home, to that swan.

*.`

two.

they exist in all three— land, water, sky, all three states of being, but its associated most with water?

water, to me, represents distortion, a blurry layer of what-ifs, very much of an illusion. much like shifting, it bends realities.

the duality of swans on the water is that it's serene, and elegant, yes BUT, it's hidden, mystical, and even though I know how a bird floats off the water I think it's much more than that. shifting is much like that, we make it a whole thing— (as we should, ofc) make an aura, a feeling, an emotion, etc. But, what if it isn't oh-so-mystic, what if you just need to close em eyes and flap away?

*.`

three.

they have forever soulmates.

(I really fought myself to not put in lobster references)

they could swim through countless lakes, but that one other means forever to them and so, what if the universe is your lake, and its just you and your other swan (that sounds bad I know, but ugh yk what I'm saying)— sure, in different bodies with different faces but that one person that's always there and is waiting even now for you to finally swim over and reunite?

*

so, if we say shifting is an act of reinvention, then perhaps love— much like that of swans— is the thread that ties us to our truest selves across lakes, or shall we say lifetimes, across realities, across everything we have ever been or hoped to become.

.

..

.....

*

[rayroseu]

"you are just as guilty" ⚔️🥀

last cough of art before the update ahkdhkshsksh AAAAAAAAAAA i dont wanna leave Briar Valley yet 😩😩😩😩 Lilia don't gatekeep all the lore,,, dang it,,,💔💔💔💔

sometimes i really do wonder what Meleanor or Dawn's last thoughts before dying..... ESPECIALLY Dawn... Bro rarely has the chances to express his individuality, he's so tragic to be with the Silver Owls sm.. 😭who suppresses all opinions as seen with their soldier garments (all of them basically have the same motifs and design) in contrast,.. Meleanor's army has differently designed mask to highlight the unique faes they are--

I have this thought that like Silver, he cries about the sins of his nation as well... 😭I think he has regrets that he made Meleanor overblot and blames himself for it 😭 (Like how Silver was the last straw to make Malleus overblot-)

I think its a common interpretation that Dawn is heroic, but I don't think of him that way KSJSKS, not because he's not a hero, but because he's a failed one. In the story, it felt like he was "just a person". He's not perfect, he's flawed.

And, I think the existence of "failed heroes" like Dawn is really intriguing in TWST,,,, because the heroic characters here are depicted as "never failing at anything". Like how RSA characters are. They never lose at anything, but ironically the character most inspired by this school (RSA) failed at "being a good hero."

I'm interpreting he failed because he couldn't make his mission come true; peace between fae and humans, in fact he might have worsened it with the passing of Meleanor 😭😭💔💔

The most tragic thing of all his life, was probably the part where he died, not because of the faes, but of his own fellow countrymen... I imagine in this image, what did he even kill Meleanor for? He couldn't make any peace between faes and humans, he couldn't save his country, we're not even sure if he did use Meleanor's magical stone to save the Human King and if he was successful with it, so if he has failed at everything he aspired to achieve, then what else is the point to all the bloodshed he has faced and committed?

In a way, his "punishment" is similar to Rollo's, celebrated by the achievement he didn't want to commit (except its the good guy this time adskjs)

(Thats why I'm sold at the idea of Dawn just giving up fighting at his death bcs theres no way if he did actually had the motivation to fight, he'd lose against fellow humans when he fought Meleanor on solo akhdkhs... unless they reveal how he died as well next update---🙏🏻✨😳/copium)

In a way, its similar to Silver's disappointment too, that he worked all his life to make Lilia proud, to make sure that faes like his Father can be understood better, only for Lilia to leave him all alone yk... 🥹

But on the other side, I don't think he failed too much... because of his losses, Silver was brought to Lilia 🥹🥹

I feel like Lilia will relate to Dawn as well,,, He said in the story that he sympathized with Dawn because he spared tamago Malleus, but I beg to differ.

I think its actually because like Dawn, Lilia is also a knight who failed at everything he aspired to commit to (he took so long to hatch the egg and he failed to protect Meleanor and keep his promise with Levan that he'll take care of his wife and son-) so at that realization, Lilia probably sees that there's no reason to hate him, they had the same fate, so why would he hate his child as well?

He's not living anymore but I think Lilia could see that Dawn probably awaited for centuries to wake his son up from sleep,,, like how Lilia desperately waited and wished that something would hatch Malleus already 😭😭💔💔

JUST... KNIGHT OF DAWN I'LL REMEMBER YOU FOREVER SKDJSK 😭😭😭😭🫂🫂🫂

[myunghology]

࿐ knights members and taylor swift songs i think describes them! + lyrics <3

— ✦ knights x gn! reader (seperate!) , pure fluff, tw — reader is implied to be in a abusive relationship in arashis part

— ✦ TSUKASA SUOU + the way i loved you

“he is sensible and so incredible, and all my single friends are jealous.” — people have seen the way tsukasa treats you, like the absolute prince/ss you are, he always gives you amazing treatment and he would drop everything just to help you any time.

“he says everything i need to hear, and it's not like i could ask for anything better.��� — would gladly give you reassurance anytime you need it, when you're over thinking, when you're jealous, or even if it's something personal, he'll always be there for you. (more under the cut <3)

“but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain, and it's 2am and im cursing your name.” — you two have probably fought many times; not about anything financial or something with his idol work, but probably about your mental health- tsukasa screaming that you should take proper care of yourself more especially when he isn't there, but he knows it isn't your fault.

“he respects my space and never makes me wait, and he calls exactly when he says he will.” — respects your personal space even though he badly wants to know something, your comfort is more important than his curiosity, no? and he truly calls whenever he says he will, at the exact time. he always keeps his promises, yk?

“he's close with my mother and talks business with my father.” — your mom definitely loves him, he's probably like the son she wishes your brother was or the son she never had, he's such a suck up to both of your parents oh my god. and of course he talks business with your father, he's the heir of his family, isn't he? your father loves him too.

“he's charming and endearing and im comfortable.” — is anyone even surprised.. he's a part of a wealthy family and he's a gentleman, of course he's charming. but especially to you- especially when he was courting you. plus, you feel oh so comfortable whenever you're with him, he's like your safe space if it was a person.

this song screams tsukasa suou so bad it's crazy.

— ✦ LEO TSUKINAGA + i think he knows + king of my heart

“he got that boyish look that i like in a man! i am an architect, im drawing all the plans. its like im 17, nobody understands.” — we all know his features are incredibly handsome, his sharp and green eyes, his long orange hair that's always tied. it's a stupid crush- i mean out of all people, why him? you silently scold yourself.

“he got my heartbeat, skipping down 16th avenue, got that ah, i mean. wanna see what's under that attitude, like..” — you're embarrassed the way his stupid self got you falling horrendously. the way your heart skips a beat whenever he says 'i love you' but then he probably says that to everyone he meets.. and of course you want to see what's under that silly little attitude of his. you wanna see his caring side, which he has shown to you multiple times, but you definitely wanna see it more!

“he's so obsessed with me and boy i understand!” — when leo has a crush, he'd definitely be obsessed with them. bugging and annoying them 24/7, shouting out that he has inspiration whenever you walk into the same room that he's in to the point where you have to stop him from writing all over the walls and the floor; screw it, maybe even the ceiling.

“lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh.” — most charming eyes, the way his eyes also smile the same time he does. tho he does not obviously have indigo eyes, but he has the prettiest eyes either way. as for the smile, he's always smiling, no? + he's always touching you somehow, hugging you and giving you headpats.

“and you move to me like im a motown beat and we rule the kingdom inside my room.” — we all know leo likes to complete, i know this isn't technically what the lyric means but he looooves dancing with you! especially inside the little fortress inside your room you two made, that's made out of pillows <3

“never quite took me where you do?” — leo is very random at times, a lot of people know that. but to the point that he drags you to a place where he found "pretty"? once you're there with him, ideas for composing fills his mind while he looks at you with awe, the beautiful sunrise and you, just sitting there. leo likes pretty things.. and people ♪

“and all at once you are the one i have been waiting for, king of my heart.” — ou-sama~~ we all know he was the previous king of knights, but he forever stays your king in your heart, even after suou takes his place ^3^.

couldn't decide between i think he knows and king of my heart so i went with both since i think he knows was too short by itself.

— ✦ IZUMI SENA + style

“i should just tell to to leave cause i, know exactly where it leads but i, watch us go round and round each time.” — you two definitely bicker every time you see each other. arguing on what the hell the others wearing today saying it's 'not appropriate' for the occasion. literally everyone else knows that you two admire each other from afar, except yourselves.

“you got that james dean daydream look in your eye, and i got that red lip classic thing that you like.” — everyone knows izumi sena is gorgeous, the same goes for you. it's just that-- he won't admit it. buttt it's probably pretty obvious to the people he's close with tho. (e.g : knights)

“and when we come crashing down, we come back everytime.” — every. single. time. you two fight, literally the next day you two act like nothing ever happened with izumi asking you if you ate yet, and with you answering without saying anything mean.

“i say, ‘i heard, oh, that you've been out and about with some other girl.’ he says ‘what you heard was true but i, can't stop thinking bout you and i.’ i said ‘ive been there, too a few times.’” — obviously as a model and having to work with other people, there would be dating rumors. it was only natural. but you really can't help but to get jealous. although being izumi— he'll harshly (and affectionately) tell you that he's seeing you and nobody else.

“you got that long hair, slicked back, white t-shirt.” — but instead of slicked back his hair is definitely messy. but either way, he's still handsome! with a plain white t-shirt he wears at home, perfect for watching romcom dramas with you, and snuggling with your pet cat or dog!!!

THERE WASN'T THAT MANY OPTIONS FOR IZUMI ARGHHH 🏴‍☠️

— ✦ ARASHI NARUKAMI + gorgeous

“and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us. he's in the club doing i don't know what. you're so cool it makes me hate you so much.” — HONESTLY you could give less of a shit about your shitty boyfriend once you meet arashi, it's given she's a literal angel, saying that you should just break up with him because he treats you like crap.

“whiskey on ice, sunset and vine, you've ruined my life, by not being mine.” — it pains you and her that you're still with your 🤢boyfriend🤢. you want to be with her so bad, you just don't know how to break up with your current boyfriend.

“you're so gorgeous, i can't say anything to your face. cause look at your face.” — you stutter around her whenever she's with you, and she finds it absolutely adorable, definitely teases you about it!

“and im so furious, at you for making me feel this way, but what can i say? you're gorgeous.” — you're not that mad, but you're just frustrated at yourself for liking her when you have a boyfriend.. but your boyfriends an asshole anyway.. right? it's not your fault.

“and you should think about the consequence, of you touching my hand in the darkened room.” — whenever she touches you, you get extremely flustered, blushing sooo hard your face is practically all red.

“if you've got a girlfriend, im jealous of her. but if you're single, that's honestly worse.” — she has so many people pining over her, which obviously makes you jealous. but she just laughs it off and reassures you, that she doesn't like anyone at the moment. or does she?

“i guess ill just stumble on home to my cats, alone. unless you wanna come along?” — you sulk whenever you see her laughing with other people. once she sees you walking away she follows you around for the rest of the day, giggling at you for feeling jealous.

— ✦ RITSU SAKUMA + paper rings

“went home and tried to stalk you on the internet, now ive read all of the books beside your bed!” — headcanon ritsu reads lots of books— which leads you staying at his place a lot to read, and also to see him.. also, the first time you've met him you most probably stalked him on the internet because you found him neat. (UNDERSTATEMENT)

“cat and mouse for a month or two or three, now i wake up in the night and watch you breathe..” — playing a game of cat and mouse with ritsu is always fun! especially if he's the one chasing you everywhere for your love <3. but now, you randomly wake up in the middle of the night beside him with nothing to do but watch him sleep peacefully.

“kiss me once 'cause you know i had a long night! kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright! three times 'cause ive waited my whole life!” — you nor ritsu can't tell how long you two have been waiting for this moment. once you or he places a soft kiss on your lips; he feels like he's in bliss and he can pass out any second now as his vision turns hazy and his eyes are half-lidded whilst a smile is on his face.

“i like shiny things, but id marry you with paper rings!” — ritsu is SO desperate for you it's so funny. he kisses you the first time he gets to— so why not propose with paper rings as well? made by he, himself of course ^^ also he would gladly get on his knees for you no objections

“i want your dreary mondays, wrap your arms around me, baby boy!” — his sleepy mondays with you are always a blessing to him, in rare occasions in which he wakes up first, he always fixes his position in cuddling you as he plants a small kiss on your forehead (screw that, more like all around your face.) whilst runs his fingers through your hair.

“in paper rings, in picture frames, in all dreams.” — swore to love him all your life with those paper rings you got married with.. technically. and he has little picture frames of you guys in his room too, and don't act like he doesn't dream about you everytime he goes to bed, too!

myunghology : PINK THEME BC THIS WAS AN OLD WORK AND IM TOO LAZY TO CHANGE IT😭😭

[brownied0ll]

(NOT PROOF READ)

Ony x black!f!reader

Sooo basicallyyyy fem reader who lowkey strong asf get jealous but like she little bitty like literally 5’1 while ony a whopping 6,4 everytime YALL argue you give him some rough bruises then y’all fuck it out

Warnings: nsfw! P in V, jealousy, toxic relationship, idk what else tbh

You and Ony were cuddling on the couch watching “missing” for like the 100th time, he half sleep half woke and his phone started dingin’ at first you didn’t really pay attention. But then it started getting constant so you picked up his phone and put his passcode in to see messages from instagram? but you was pretty sure you told him to delete that shit!

Next thing you know you scrolling through some texts from a bitch named “Ri’hna” it’s like they were texting non-stop yk damn well he aint drop sum off for her ONE time you was finna wake his ass up and slap him in his shit but something told you too see what this bitch look like so you know who you finna beat tf up.

after about like 35-40ish minutes of checking her socials (off of his phone) the bitch texted talkin’ bout’ sum “mmm why you looking at my page sm?? You obsessed aint you 👅👅?” First of all, the bitch was ugly asf and built sloppy second of all, the bitch knew he had a girl! Thats what made you aggressively wake up ony.

“Hmm..? What ma-“ he said sluggishly and he was tired but once a hard ass slap hit him across his face he woke up right away “y/n what the fuck?!” He said like he didnt know what was going on (he didnt) “now who tf is ri’hna?” You said calmly but in a minute you was finna go off “what is you talkin’ bout?!” Ony looked at you with a confused faced then you punch him in his nose, “nigga stop playing dumb with me” you said tryna keep yourself from hitting him again “y/n you ain’t gon keep hitting’ me!” “NIGGA JUST ANSWER MY QUESTION” you said finally gettin loud after that Yall started fighting not just yelling but fist fighting

Ony ended up spendin’ the night at armin and his girls house (your friend) “damnnn she fucked yo shit up!” Armin said feeling bad Ony had a couple bruises over his face nd a somewhat black eye “what did you do fa ha do dat?” F/n had asked with a concerned look, “ion even fuckin know! She just started asking me who Ri’hna is..” “well who is she” f/n had asked “she a regular drop off but she got a crush on Ony” armin and had said “well if yk she gatta crush on you.. why don’t you block ha or sum’ ?” F/n had asked a good question “because she a customer and y/n shouldve look at the messages better I don’ t respond unless she ask for a drop!” Armin and f/n look at each other “welllll—“ armin said “how bout you just go talk to her yk Yall gon end up back togetha’ anyway” he was right no matter how many times y’all “broke up” or fought y’all ended up fuckin’ it out nd being lovey doves again

It was about 2:23 am you heard a knock at yo apartment door you was confused asf because why somebody at your door at 2 somthing in da morning? You looked through da peep hole, suprise suprise it was no other than ony

“Ngh~! Ohh~!” “Fuck-fuck-fuckkkk” here you two are fucking like animals on the living room floor, that’s how terrible it is y’all didn’t even make it to the bedroom! “Mama, you better not beat me up like that again understand?” Ony said somewhat outa Breath while in missionary still pounding tf outa you. “Don’t make me want~to beat you up aga~in” you said with moans interrupting your words. “You didn’t even let me try to explain myse-“ you shut him up with a French kiss “that’s the past this the present forget about that”

After a couple days the same thing happened which ended up in you two fucking YOURE problems out again this relationship was not healthy at all.

Heyyy y’all! so prob tmr ima do the thing cuz gojo won the poll! This is short so hopefully in the future I make longer ones but I ain’t good a typing for a long time.. but anyways yup bye love y’all😘

[6-atlas-6]

Blake headcanons ?!

When they were in high school together Blake would sneak into besties window with their favorite candy everytime they texted him about a nightmare

Blake let bestie give him a stick and poke tattoo and it was so bad that people in school always made fun of him for it, but to this day he never got it covered up

Blake would make bestie handmade cards every valentines day and they were never under 2 pages long

Blake took life drawing classes as an excuse to use bestie as a model

He also has a collection of said drawings, paintings, sculptures, etc. all throughout his room. When bestie asked he said that his room now looks exactly what his head looks like all the time. Full of them.

Blake drove away everyone bestie dated/had a crush on in one way or another, and they never found out about it. He even comforted them through it afterwards.

Blake has a scrapbook for every single year he's known bestie. In his fear of losing them someday, he takes a lot of photos of him and them together.

Blake got a license before bestie so he would be able to drive them around everywhere and spend time with them.

Nsfw under the cut

Blake has a pelvic tattoo (above his yk) that says "property of [name]". Even if he ever fucked other people he needed them to know he belonged to one person alone.

Cancel me if you want, Blake is into cnc. He wants to be fought, he wants you to run just so he can chase you and drag you back to him kicking and screaming.

Most of all, he wants you to feel like you can't run. Like you can't do anything more than just sit there and take it. He said he would never let you go again, and he meant it.

He wants to fuck you so hard that you can't even think anymore, because truly that's all he wants. For you to never think of anything other than him, of how he looks on top of you, of how good he feels inside of you. He never wants you to think about anyone else ever again.

Being a seer, who is able to see everything but never be able to control anything, he loves being in control. He gets to decide when you breathe, when you finish, what you're allowed to touch.