#he has no idea what is going on in the world
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
where-does-the-heart-lie · 14 hours ago
Text
More Doki Doki Battle Academy OP AU
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
even MOOROEEE of themmmmmahhhhhhh babyeyyy i even added some dialogues fir some extra flavourrrrr (kuma and bonney's gif there would be a sprite he would have in his dialogue scenes. i dont think it would be a gif like this, more like everytime you look back at him, bonney would be in a different spot)
original DDBA designs post (has more lore there, go look at it plese :3
imagining the vinsmoke/strawhat beef going like this video
design stuffs and more lore:
preface: sorry this is so much writing and im not going to grammar check it cuz aint no body got time for that.
The world of this au is like pokemon with different gyms you can fight through and beat, there's a big league of pro fighters, and there are schools for teaching you to be a better fighter.
One of the schools is called the Germa 66 Private Battle Academy, it goes from grades 1-12 and its where the Vinsmoke siblings all went too (at least until sanji broke off from the family at some point) and its run by Judge Vinsmoke, their father.
i am thinking that the Vinsmoke kids would still be genetically modified and Kuma would be a cyborg in this too.
design stuffs:
Ichiji: i tried to make him as punk as he would feasably get away with living under his father's rule. Big "combat" boots, fingerless gloves, black undershirt. He likes his style and would probably go all out if he didnt have to conform to his school uniform, thus i put a little heart on his boots.
Niji: i also made him like his style. The rings on his fingers, his nikes shoes, his big headphones. Like a gamer who thinks this is what fashion is. I think he would love listening to music too so i put his heart on his headphones.
Yonji: big stakly guy. Hes a lot more hands-on than his brothers so i put lots of emphasis on that area. i put his heart on his hand wraps because i think he would really love fighting. I think that Yonji is most like his father in that enjoyment, but i think Judge wouldnt like how casual Yonji's style is.
Reiju: y2k queen. I love this design on her so much im so bummed that she would have already graduated from the academy and i cant put her in a Hit Me Baby One More Time-esque uniform outfit, shed fucking KILL THAT SHITTT. Anyway though, reiju's heart is subtle yet in plain view, the locket around her neck. i dont think she would let anyone look at the contents but i do think that absolutly it would be her mother on one side and her brothers on the other. She wouldnt like people looking at it because that would mean someone could see that her dad isnt in there and she would get it a lot of trouble with her father about it.
Power ranger fits: i made them full on power rangers. its what they deserve. Since reiju has a butterfly motif in canon, i thought it would be fun to also give her brothers a bug motif of their own. ichiji is a wasp, niji is a dragonfly, yonji is a stag beetle. If sanji stuck around, hed probably be a lady bug lol. Also the masks they wear, the eye window part, it’s like tear tracks coming out but in a way that doesnt look like thats what they are. But it’s meant to show how judge forcing his children to be these people is causing them pain.
thank you @zethsdumpster for being my Vinsmoke specialist and helping me come up with a lot of their design stuff!
Doflamingo: i tried to make him a Nasty Nasty man. Like if a used car salesman made it big. Like if Macklemore was MackleMORE. i love the idea that he likes to tan himself, but he doesnt take any of his clothes off to do so, so he just has the absolute craziest tan lines ever. i put his hearts on the gold chain around his neck, he loves his wealth but not much else. i love the idea of him having two very expensive watches on each wrist. there may be more watches up his sleeve too. i also gave him fluffy dice around his neck, like he's one of the cars that he's selling.
Rosinante: i couldnt get away much longer without putting the heart man into the heart 'game'. i couldve went off more with the hearts of his design but i didnt want him to become nearly as flashy as his brother. i wanted him to be understated and fade into the background when doflamingo is around. he is dead in this au btw sorry :/ this is his design when he passed, but doffy's design is present day him. anyway, Rosi's hearts are everywhere, its in the outline of his big huggable fluffy coat, its on his hat thats pulling him down, it would be on his shirt too if it wasnt covered by his coat in this image.
Bonney: SHEEES SO CUUTEEEE AAAAAAAA i love her. I based her design off of Avril Lavigne with her iconic necktie/tanktop/baggy pants looks. i tried to make her outfit look like she could feasibly fit in it when she ages herself up, especially her big ol shoes. the heart in her design is in her neck tie. The stereotypical visage of a dad is a man in a tie who goes to work, and she loves her dad, so her heart is in her dad tie.
Kuma: I didn't change much of him from his design in canon, but since bonney would be more in his life in this version, i wanted to give him more visual indicators of her being there. like the height chart on his leg, or the fuzzy hat she crocheted for him (she also made her own hat for herself). Also, the pattern on his shirt is one that looks like a paw, but if you took off that outer layer, if the pattern continued, the design would be a sun, and i just think that was really clever ehe ehe.
Hancock: Basically i tried to make her the baddest bitch in the universe. My program crashed like 3 times making her which is so funny. Procreate couldnt handle her. I based her design off of Medusa. at first i had her snake be made out of marble, but it eventually wound up at Obsidian. She has no visible hearts on her design and thats because it would be the scar on her back, which she tries to hide. i like the idea that this very visibly revealing outfit would be perfectly tailored and reinforced to never move a single inch to let anyone see what theyre not supposed to. I dont know how i would justify her being able to turn people into stone in this AU, so im just not going to make a decision on whether or not she can do that.
ive been working on these designs off and on ever since i made the first post on this au and im real happy i can finally put more out.
if you got to the end of this, thank you so much for reading~ i hope you enjoyed :)
643 notes · View notes
dollgxtz · 2 days ago
Text
Hide and Surrender
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Word Count: 5.1k
Summary: A simple game of hide and seek turns way more intense than you thought it would.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?”
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, cnc, cunnilingus, predator play, predator x prey, hide and seek with roleplay, restraining, chasing, slightly rough sex, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, forced blowjob
AN: Another fic idea that wouldn't leave my head. Can't remember which Touring in Love chapter it was, but in it Sylus plays hide and seek with us. And I was like, yknow what would make this 100x better? Predator play :3
Tumblr media
"What would you like to play? I'll join you."
Those were the words that started it all.
You had half-expected Sylus to scoff at your suggestion, to find you childish for wanting to indulge in a game meant for children. But to your surprise, he agreed without hesitation, not even asking why. There was something in the way he said it, though—something that made your pulse quicken.
"You've played this before, right, Sylus?" you ask, covering your eyes with your hands to demonstrate. "You cover your eyes like this and count to ten. Then you come find me."
A moment of silence stretches between you, thick with something unspoken. Then, warm fingers wrap around your wrists, prying your hands gently away from your face. Your breath catches as you find yourself trapped beneath Sylus’ gaze—two crimson eyes watching you with something unreadable, something dangerous.
Those eyes—burning, searing, all-consuming—lock onto yours with something unreadable, something dangerous. It’s not just amusement or curiosity; it’s something deeper, something that snakes around your ribs and makes it hard to breathe. The way he looks at you is slow, patient, as if he has all the time in the world to take you apart piece by piece, as if he’s already thought of a thousand ways this game will end.
You feel your heart hammering against your ribs, loud, deafening, a traitorous thing that gives away too much.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, as if studying you. The corners of his lips twitch—not quite a smile, but something just as unsettling.
"I didn’t have time or interest for such games when I was a child," he murmurs, his voice low, almost predatory. His lips curl into something between a smirk and a smile, and the way he looms over you makes you feel smaller, caged. "But for you? I’ll learn quickly, kitten."
The pet name slithers through the air, coiling around you, sinking into your skin like a brand. A shiver ripples down your spine, slow and deliberate, leaving a molten trail in its wake. Heat pools deep in your underwear, an unwelcome warmth that you fight to ignore. Your throat goes dry, and you tear your gaze away, desperate to escape the weight of his stare. But it’s too late—he’s already seen it.
A low chuckle spills from his lips, rich and smooth, yet laced with something dark. Something knowing. The sound wraps around you, thick with amusement, but there’s something beneath it, something that burrows under your skin and makes your pulse falter in a way that has nothing to do with fear. It’s dangerous—not because of what it is, but because of how your body reacts to it.
Like a predator toying with its prey.
He lingers, close enough that the heat of him prickles against your skin, close enough that you can see the glint in his half-lidded eyes. Yet, just as your breath catches in your throat, just as the tension coils so tight it threatens to snap, he takes a step back. Barely. Not enough to be safe—never enough to be safe—but just enough to keep you teetering on the edge.
His head tilts slightly, gaze lazy, his voice dipping into something slow, syrupy, dangerously smooth.
"Go on, then."
The words are soft, but there’s no playfulness in them anymore. No lighthearted teasing. Only promise. A single word, unspoken but heavy in the air between you.
"Hide."
There’s definitely no playfulness in his voice now.
Your pulse roars in your ears as adrenaline surges through your veins. Fine. You weren’t going down easy. This was just a simple game of Hide and Seek—nothing more. You force yourself to ignore the way your stomach twists, how your breath feels too fast, too shallow. You're overthinking it. Sylus loves to tease you, to get under your skin, to watch you squirm. He loves making you flustered, and you know that. But still…there's something in the way his lips curled into a smirk before he turned around to count, something in his tone when he called out, that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.
"One…two…three…"
The second his eyes leave you, you bolt. Your feet pound against the tile floor as you dash up the stairs, each step groaning under your weight. Your movements are clumsy, fueled by nothing but instinct. You wince at how loud you are, practically announcing your location, but at this point? Who cares. The only thing that matters is finding a place to hide before—
"Ten." His voice is slow, deliberate. You swear you hear amusement laced in it.
You don't stop running. You throw yourself into his room, nearly tripping over your own feet as you spin wildly, scanning the space for the perfect hiding spot. Your chest rises and falls in quick succession, air burning in your lungs. The bed? No, too obvious. Under the desk? Not enough coverage.
Then, you hear it.
"Let's see where my little kitten decided to hide."
Your blood turns to ice.
Without thinking, you dive toward the closet, yanking the door open just enough to squeeze inside before gently—so gently—pulling it shut, leaving only the smallest crack to peek through. Darkness swallows you whole, the scent of Sylus’s cologne thick in the enclosed space, invading your senses. Your back presses against the wall, every inch of you wound so tightly that your muscles ache. Your breath comes in rapid, uneven pants, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to silence yourself.
Your heart pounds violently against your ribs, so loud it feels like it’s betraying you, threatening to give you away. You try to steady it, to slow your breaths, but every little sound—the creak of a floorboard, the soft click of a door opening—sends another jolt of panic surging through you.
Then, footsteps. Slow. Measured.
Getting closer.
You hear him before you see him.
The door creaks open, a slow, deliberate sound that cuts through the silence, sending a shiver down your spine. The room seems to shrink, the air thickening as his presence fills the space. It’s not just the sound of his footsteps—it’s something deeper, something intangible, an unseen force that presses against your chest, making it harder to breathe. Your heart pounds in response, the steady thump-thump-thump filling your ears like a war drum. Even as fear coils in your stomach, there's an undeniable thrill laced within it, a rush of something you refuse to name.
Through the narrow crack in the closet door, you finally see him. Sylus moves with practiced ease, unhurried, precise, like a predator that knows its prey has nowhere to run. His crimson eyes flicker with something unreadable as they scan the room. He doesn’t fumble, doesn’t hesitate. There’s an unsettling certainty to his movements, a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken.
His fingers trail lazily along the back of the couch before he crouches, peering beneath it. “Not under the couch, I see,” he muses, his voice smooth, almost casual. But there’s something beneath the words, something sharp, something laced with amusement, as if he already knows exactly where you are.
"Behind the curtains, maybe?" He doesn’t sound like he’s searching. He sounds like he’s toying with you.
He straightens, then shifts his focus to the glass windows, where the heavy curtains hang still. He moves toward them, fingertips grazing the fabric before he suddenly jerks them aside. You tense instinctively, though you know you aren’t there. He pauses, as if savoring the moment, before releasing the curtain and letting it drift back into place.
Your chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. Your lungs burn with the effort of staying quiet, of keeping still.
Then he turns, and your heart stutters violently in your chest as his gaze lands on the bed. No way he doesn’t already know where you are. No way his senses are that dull. You watch, frozen in place, as he slowly kneels, resting a hand against the mattress as he leans down to inspect the space beneath the frame. He hums softly. "Hmm...not under the bed either."
The moment he stands, you know. His next stop is the wardrobe.
A faint chuckle spills from his lips, low, knowing, as he starts toward you with slow, deliberate steps. Every cell in your body screams at you to move, but you remain paralyzed, pressed against the back of the closet as if you could somehow will yourself into the shadows. You can barely hear over the deafening thud of your heartbeat.
"Y’know, kitten," he drawls, his voice a lazy, syrupy purr that drips with something thick, something dangerous, "the sooner you come out, the gentler I’ll be with you."
Your breath catches violently in your throat. His voice alone sends a jolt through you, a sharp, involuntary response that leaves you feeling raw, exposed.
Then—he stops.
He tilts his head slightly, as if considering something, before abruptly turning away. "Oh right, I almost forgot to check the living room."
This is your chance. Your only chance.
No time to think—just move!
Your body reacts before your mind catches up. With a burst of energy, you shove the closet door open and bolt. The sudden shift from stillness to motion is disorienting, but you don’t stop, don’t hesitate. Your feet slam against the floor as you propel yourself forward, the only thought in your mind being run.
You don’t dare look back.
But then—air shifts behind you.
A sharp inhale. A pivot of movement.
And then—footsteps. Fast. Closing in.
Panic surges through you, raw and electric, as you push yourself harder. Your legs burn, your lungs ache, but you don’t stop. You just have to make it downstairs. Just a little farther. Just a little—
A rush of air. A presence at your back.
And then—a hand. Wrapping around your wrist.
You scream, a sharp, startled sound that barely has time to leave your lips before Sylus yanks you back with a firm tug of your wrist. The sudden force sends you stumbling, crashing into his chest, your breath hitching as his arm snakes around your waist, keeping you locked in place. He’s warm, solid, unyielding, and far too close. His scent—something dark and intoxicating—invades your senses, making your already racing heart hammer harder.
“Found you, kitten,” he murmurs, amusement dripping from his tone. His lips curl into a smirk as he tilts his head slightly, eyes glowing with satisfaction. “I was starting to worry I lost you forever.”
The mockery in his voice is unmistakable, but inwardly, you’re grinning, nearly laughing. This was exactly what you wanted—a chase, a fight, a chance to push back. But you don’t let him see that. Instead, you put on your best scowl, defiance burning in your gaze.
"Your acting’s gotten worse," you spit, jerking against his hold. You bring your knee up sharply, aiming for his groin with all the force you can muster.
But he’s faster.
Before your knee can make contact, a thick tendril of red mist swirls around you, his Evol surging to life in an instant. The energy coils around your limbs like living chains, locking you in place just as he moves.
In the blink of an eye, he shifts, twisting effortlessly, using his grip on you to throw you onto the bed with little more than a flick of his wrist. The mattress dips beneath your weight, and before you can even think of scrambling away, he’s already on top, looming over you, his expression smug, too amused.
You lash out.
Your fist shoots toward his face, but he leans back smoothly, just enough for your knuckles to miss his jaw by mere inches. You shift, twisting your body, using the momentum to kick upward, aiming for his ribs. Again, he dodges—his body shifting effortlessly, as if he already knows exactly what you’re going to do before you do it.
“Tsk, tsk,” he hums, easily maneuvering around another wild swing from you. “You’re getting sloppy, kitten. I thought you were actually trying.”
You grit your teeth, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. You manage to free an arm from the tendrils of mist, and without hesitation, you try to land a punch to his shoulder. This time, he catches your wrist mid-air, his grip tightening just enough to still your movement.
“You bast—” You twist your hips sharply, using every ounce of strength to break free, but he barely even moves. If anything, he looks bored, like he’s humoring you.
Sylus chuckles, low and deep. “You really don’t know when to give up, do you?” His grip on your wrist shifts slightly before he suddenly pushes you down hard, making you gasp as your bodies gravity shifts, forced into submission once again.
You feel your pulse jump when his lips brush the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to something even smoother, even softer, but no less dangerous.
“And here I thought we were just playing.” His fingers tighten ever so slightly around your wrists, his body pressing just close enough to remind you how little control you actually have in this moment. “I guess it’s my turn to get serious, hm?”
Your breath catches.
Something shifts in the air.
"S-Sylus, wait—" you gasp, your words catching in your throat as the sound of fabric tearing fills the room. In one swift motion, he's ripped your shorts apart, leaving your legs exposed to the cool air, the sudden chill a stark contrast to the heat still simmering between your thighs. Your underwear is the only thing left, a flimsy barrier between his intentions and your already soaked folds.
You start to protest, a mix of shock and anticipation swirling inside you, but the words die on your lips as Sylus shushes you softly, his voice a low, calming murmur. "Shh..." he whispers, his breath warm against your skin, sending a shiver racing up your spine.
"All that fighting, and yet you're soaked down here, kitten".
With deliberate slowness, he lowers his head between your thighs, the anticipation building as his lips hover just above the thin cloth. His tongue flicks out, tracing the outline of your folds through the fabric with agonizing precision. Each stroke is slow, torturous, a teasing promise of what's to come, and your protests dissolve into soft whimpers of need.
"An orgasm or two should get rid of that feistiness," he murmurs against you, his voice a rich, dark promise that leaves you trembling with anticipation.
Sylus's fingers deftly hook into the elastic of your panties, pulling the cloth aside with a practiced ease that leaves you exposed to him, vulnerable and aching. The cool air brushes against your skin for a fleeting moment before his mouth descends, and all coherent thought shatters as his tongue finds your aching cunt.
"Ah!"
The first touch is electric, a jolt of pure pleasure that arches your back off the bed, your hips lifting to meet him with a desperate need. His tongue works with a deliberate, maddening rhythm, alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks that have you gasping for breath.
Your hands find their way into his hair, fingers tangling in the strands as you hold him to you, guiding him closer even as your mind spins with the intensity of it all. He doesn't mind in the slightest, his low, satisfied hum sending vibrations through you, drawing a gasp from your lips.
"This—is c-cheating..." you manage to whine between ragged breaths, though your actions betray you as your hips move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth, seeking more of the pleasure he's so expertly giving.
“I caught my prey, it’s only fair I get to eat my catch right?” he says, before continuing his assault on your clit. His words send your head spinning and you suddenly feel like you can barely breathe.
With a renewed dedication, his tongue delving deeper, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that leaves you trembling. The world dissolves around you, leaving nothing but the exquisite sensation of his mouth on you, driving you relentlessly toward the peak of ecstasy.
The sensation of his tongue slipping inside you leaves you reeling, each thrust a masterful stroke that has you feeling drunk on the sheer ecstasy he’s delivering. It’s a skill that seems almost divine, the way he knows exactly how to unravel you, how to make you moan and whine so uncontrollably that it borders on begging.
Your body responds helplessly, hips bucking against him as your hands clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself in the storm of pleasure. His tongue moves with purpose, each flick and thrust pushing you closer to that precipice, until finally, he shifts his focus, sucking on your clit with a precision that sends you spiraling over the edge.
The orgasm tears through you, leaving you breathless and shaking, your cries echoing in the room as you ride out the waves of bliss. But even as you begin to descend from the high, you’re dismayed to find that Sylus isn’t stopping, his mouth still working you with relentless dedication.
“P-please...no more...” you plead, trying to twist away, your body oversensitive and overwhelmed. But he simply adjusts his grip, his hands firm on your waist, holding you in place with an easy strength that keeps you from escaping.
“Still a little feisty, hm?” he teases, a wicked glint in his eyes as he looks up at you. “Like I thought. One more should do.” His words are a promise and a challenge, and as his mouth returns to its task, you know you’re helpless to resist the pull of his mastery, your body already surrendering to the inevitable wave building once more.
"Mgnh...ah..."
And just as promised, the fight within you starts to ebb away, like sand slipping through fingers, as Sylus's tongue continues its relentless, masterful assault. The pleasure builds higher to the point where it almost hurts, a crescendo that leaves you breathless and trembling, unable to do anything but call out his name, your voice breaking as your body jerks and shakes under his skilled touch.
"Sylus!"
The second orgasm crashes over you, pulling you under its tide, leaving you riding the waves of ecstasy until you finally collapse, utterly spent, like a boneless heap of jello. Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, tears of overstimulation gathering at the corners of your eyes, evidence of the intensity that just ripped through you.
Sylus leans back, a satisfied gleam in his eyes as he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you. He studies you with a mixture of amusement and triumph, taking in your ragdoll form sprawled before him. "Going to try and fight me again?" he teases, a smirk playing on his lips.
You manage a weak shake of your head, trying to suppress the smile tugging at your own lips, despite the exhaustion. Damn this slick bastard and his godly tongue, you think, a mixture of exasperation and admiration swirling within you.
"Good, just how I like you," he murmurs, his voice a low purr that sends a shiver through your already sensitive body. His hands move to his belt, fingers working with deliberate slowness to undo it, each click of the metal buckle a promise of what's to come. "Seems you're ready for the last phase of our game," he declares, his dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with a hunger that promises there's much more yet to be explored.
You lay there, your body still humming with the aftershocks of the intense pleasure he had delivered, your eyes heavy-lidded, your breath coming in short gasps. Sylus, ever attentive, noticed your gaze drifting downward, a mix of anticipation and desire in your eyes as you took in the hard and prominent bulge in his pants.
Your cheeks flushed as you realized the effect you had on him, his hard length straining and throbbing against the fabric of his pants, a testament to the pent-up desire that had been building throughout your little "game." He had only eaten you out and yet his cock seemed like it was about to burst and break the zipper.
Sylus finishes undoing his belt, the soft clinking of the metal a rhythmic counterpoint to your pounding heartbeat. The anticipation is electric, a live wire thrumming between you as his pants finally fall away, revealing the impressive length of him. Even after all the times you’ve had each other, his size never fails to elicit a sense of awe.
Your eyes widened as Sylus, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, moved closer, his hard length throbbing in front of your mouth. You shook your head, a silent refusal, playing hard to get, but he was having none of it. With a swift motion, he cupped your chin, tilting your head back and guiding his throbbing cock towards your mouth.
"Open up, sweetie," he whispered, his voice a low command. "Good little prey does as they're told."
Your heart raced as you felt the heat of his cock against your lips, his hands firm on your head, guiding you to take him in. You strained for control, but his grip tightened, and with a gentle yet insistent pressure, he pushed his length past your lips, filling your mouth with his hardness.
You gagged slightly, your eyes watering, but he held you firmly in place, his cock sliding deeper, his hands holding your face still, ensuring you took him all the way down your throat.
"Good girl," he moaned, his voice thick with pleasure. "Breathe through your nose, kitten."
You did as he commanded, your mouth working around his length, your tongue swirling, your throat constricting around him, the sensation of his hardness and the taste of him overwhelming your senses. He began to thrust gently, his hips moving in a slow, controlled rhythm, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, his moans filling the room.
"That's it," he whispered, his breath ragged. "Take all of me, claim me as I'll claim you."
His words sent a thrill through you, and you redoubled your efforts, your mouth and throat working in unison, your hands gripping his thighs as he used your mouth for his pleasure. But just as you thought he would climax, he pulled out, his cock glistening with your saliva.
"Not yet," he said, his voice hoarse. "I won't miss the chance to claim my freshly caught prey with my seed."
He catches the wide look in your eyes and grins again, a wicked gleam lighting up his features as he moves closer, positioning himself between your trembling thighs. The head of his cock teases your entrance, brushing against your slick folds with a touch so light it sends a tremor of anticipation through you.
"Stay still." he murmurs, his voice a low purr that vibrates against your skin. You nod, breathless, as he begins to push forward, the slow, steady pressure parting your folds and stretching you inch by inch. The sensation is both exquisite and overwhelming, a delicious burn that leaves you gasping, feeling impossibly full as he sinks deeper inside you. You unknowingly tense up, and Sylus pauses.
Sylus's voice, low and soothing, filled the room as he slightly broke from his rough and demeaning role. His hands gently caressing your hips, his body still poised at your entrance. "Might as well relax" he whispered, his breath warm against your neck. "You have no choice but to take it anyways, kitten".
His words, spoken with tenderness and experience, were a balm to your nerves. You recognize this as his way of checking in and reminding you to relax without fully breaking the mood. He began to move with slow, gentle thrusts, his length sliding into you with deliberate slowness, allowing your body time to accommodate his size. "That's it, squeeze around me," he encouraged, his lips brushing your ear. "Feel me filling you, stretching you, making you whole."
The pain began to subside, replaced by a building pleasure as your body accepted his intrusion, the discomfort transforming into a unique blend of sensations. You moaned, a mix of relief and arousal, as he continued his slow, steady rhythm, his body moving in sync with yours, his hands guiding you through the waves of pleasure and discomfort, until the pain was a distant memory, and all that remained was the exquisite sensation of being filled by his hard length.
Your fingers curl into the bedsheets, clutching them for support as he begins to move again, each thrust firm and unrelenting, setting a rhythm that has you moaning helplessly beneath him. The friction is intoxicating, the sound of skin against skin mingling with your cries as you arch into him, your body alight with pleasure.
Sylus's breath came in short, sharp gasps as he thrust into you, his voice thick with desire. "So tight, so fucking wet," he growled, his words a testament to the pleasure you were providing. His hips moved in a relentless rhythm, his powerful strokes driving into your core with a force that left you breathless, your body trembling with each impact.
As the pleasure mounted within you, swelling like a storm threatening to break, Sylus transformed his movements into a slow, torturous dance. Each thrust was languid and deliberate, a teasing rhythm that played your body like a finely tuned instrument. You were on the brink, right at the precipice, but he held you there, tantalizingly close yet agonizingly far from the release you craved.
"Please, Sylus..." you whimpered, your voice a desperate plea, raw with need. "I need to...I need to finish..."
He leaned in, his breath a scorching whisper against your ear, his lips brushing your skin with feather-light caresses. "I'll let you cum, my love, if you tell me who won."
This bastard. Of course he wasn't going to make this easy.
The challenge in his words sent a shiver racing through you, a heady mix of excitement and frustration. You yearned for the release, but admitting his victory felt like a concession too steep. "Fuck you" you spat, your voice caught between resistance and the relentless pull of longing.
Sylus's pace slowed further, each thrust a deliberate tease, his body a contradiction of slow, sensual movements and the raw, simmering desire you could feel pulsing in every inch of him. "Mmm, not quite the answer I'm looking for. Tell me, sweetie," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck, sending tingling sensations along your skin. "Who won this little game?"
Your body trembled beneath him, caught in the crossfire of need and stubbornness. The sweet torture was a dance of agony and ecstasy, and it was almost too much to bear and you snapped. "You w-won," you finally admitted, the words spilling from your lips like a confession, tearing free as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered, your body arching toward him in a silent plea. "Please...let me cum!"
"That's my good girl," he growled, his voice a low, primal rumble that resonated through your very core. "Now, cum for me."
His pace shifted, each thrust gaining force and urgency, driving deep and hard, a relentless rhythm that pushed you over the edge. Your body convulsed around him, muscles tightening in a wave of release, the climax ripping through you with a sweet, shuddering ferocity that left you breathless and utterly spent. In that moment, the world dissolved, leaving only the blissful aftermath of his mastery, the sweet torture finally giving way to a bliss that wrapped around you like a warm, comforting embrace.
As your body shudders around him, gripping him with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Sylus's thrusts grow more frantic, driven by his own approaching climax. The room fills with the sounds of your combined moans and the rhythmic slap of skin against skin.
His movements become erratic, each thrust deeper and more urgent, as if he's chasing the very edge of his own orgasm. You can feel the heat building within him, a primal energy that seeks release, and you arch into him, encouraging him to finish inside you.
With a final, powerful thrust, Sylus groans deeply, his body tensing above you as he finds his own release. You feel the hot rush of his climax inside you, a flood of warmth that fills you completely, making you feel full. His body shudders, muscles taut, as he pours himself into you, the sensation a sweet, intimate mingling of pleasure and finality.
Sylus, his breath ragged, withdrew from your body with a slow, deliberate motion, his eyes never leaving yours, a silent understanding passing between you. He laid down beside you, his body still humming with the aftershocks of pleasure, his hand gently caressing your sweat-slicked skin, his touch tender and possessive. He peppered kisses on your lips, cheek, forehead and neck before settling next to you.
Both of you lay across the bed, chests rising and falling in sync, the aftermath of your "struggle" leaving a lingering heat in the air. The sheets are a mess beneath you, tangled from the chaos of it all. Your limbs feel heavy, aching from exertion, but there’s still a stubborn pout on your lips as you turn your head to glare at Sylus.
“Not fair!” you huff, breath still uneven. “I should’ve known you’d pull your dirty tricks…You owe me a new pair of shorts, by the way.”
He merely chuckles, the sound deep and rich, and before you can react, he shifts, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you flush against his side. His warmth seeps into your skin, the steady rise and fall of his chest oddly soothing despite everything. He squeezes you playfully, pressing his face against your hair as his laughter rumbles through his body.
“I could buy you a hundred new shorts if you wanted,” he murmurs, his tone amused.
You roll your eyes, but you don’t fight his hold. Instead, you melt into him, letting your body relax as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck. His scent is familiar now, something dark and warm, laced with a hint of something uniquely him. It’s comforting, even if you’d never admit it out loud.
For a moment, there’s peace. Just the steady rhythm of your breathing, the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips.
Then, his voice, soft but teasing.
“I definitely wouldn't mind a second or third round if it ends like this every time. What do you say?” he says, his breath hot against your ear.
Your breath catches, and you pull back just enough to look at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion.
The way his smirk deepens tells you everything you need to know.
641 notes · View notes
vanitythevantropist · 1 day ago
Text
OOOOO I like this one :DDD
Imma go with this one👇 (His name is Quill btw)
Tumblr media
1. Chris McLain (or howver tf you spell it) from Total Drama the original series :3
2. Canonically, he’s best friends with an alien cat named Spine who is a fire dancer! Working out the kinks on how they met so👉👈
3. Ermmmmmm… Immortals by Fall Out Boy
4. He does not have a love interest, he’s too swag for that
5. See above
6. He is a gunsmith canonically so prolly that👀
7. If he was in a fantasy setting, he’d be some guy who is WAAYY too confident in the world full of giants and dwarves n shit
8. His main hobbies - besides making guns cuz it’s his job - would be dress making, actually :3 He’s very into cross dressing and likes tailoring his own stuff, along with doing traditional at for the funsies and going scrapping (looking for scraps in the junk yard)
9. He takes very good care of himself as he wants to look pretty 24/7 and succeeds better than most people
10. He’s very very bad at it :) Just pretends everything’s fine and covers it all with humour because he has issues
11. He was originally a side character in a Mandelorian ripoff story I made when I was 14 but he overshadowed the mc of that story cuz he’s just like that lmao (Idk what directly inspired him tho)
12. Yesh, I have done sum roleplays with a friend! Their OC is named Junko and they get along well cuz they’re so similar
13. To be determined
14. See above (there are so few characters in this story cuz Quill is my world and my soul)
15. He’ll die before he ever retires (he refuses)
16. He was created in a test tube so that may be a little complicated :)
17. He would not have children as he ain’t that kinda guy but I imagine he would be the fun but kinda forgetful parents who lets their children wield guns (one’s average american, basically)
18. He goes by he/him :3
19. He is aro/ace! His main love language is physical touch (friendly hugs n kisses for the homies)
20. GUNS GUNS GUNS
21. To be determined (it might be Anything You Can Do with basically anyone tho)
22. In rough situations, FIGHT. Lover or a fighter? Imma go with ‘it’s conplicated’
23. Abso-fuckin-lutely! Feeling sad? This man will be there in under five minutes with snacks and a nice warm blankey for you in case you’re sad, as well as all the necessary tools to fix your tire!
24. He isn’t a musical guy
25. Yes absolutely he does it most of the time👀 Walkin down the street, running sum errands, in the middle of a battle, whatever, it’s singin time
26. Errmmmm… I have no idea, what do you think?
27. In spirit, a fox. In appearance, ehhh-
28. Oh my god I need to ask you if I should tag you in this cuz this is such a good idea (high school clique? He’d be the guy whose strangely popular with everyone despite hanging with the weird kids)
29. GUG, see question above !!
30. Quill is very glad that someone wants to be his friend :3 Most people do not
Anyways, ty forthis, it was fun <3 Now y’all have sum lore✨ Have fun~
Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List
1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?
2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?
3) What song describes your OC?
4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?
5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?
6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?
7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?
8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?
9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?
10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?
11) What was your inspiration for your OC?
12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?
13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?
14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!
15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?
16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?
17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?
18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?
19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?
20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?
21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?
22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?
23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?
24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?
25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?
26) What flower do you associate your OC with?
27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?
28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)
29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)
30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)
4K notes · View notes
llamagoddessofficial · 2 days ago
Text
Ok ok ok. Bear with me. aka-indulgence indulged (lol) my whims too much and kept giving me good ideas. Now my mind is whirring.
Bad guys Mafia AU, where Nightmare is the big boss, as per usual. However... secretly, Nightmare has been going undercover in the police force, using his shapeshifting powers to pose as a softspoken by-the-book skeleton monster who likes paperwork and does what he's told. He's VERY deep undercover, quietly working his way up the internal ranks, giving himself access to more and more important information like evidence and arrest records. 'Eos' (thank you @owl-bones for being great with names) is boring, hard working, devoted to his 9-5 desk job. Eos hates conflict and action and doesn't even know how to turn off the safety on a gun. Eos is so non-confrontational people barely remember his name or that he's there. Eos goes totally under the radar.
... Then, while undercover... he meets you. A plucky assistant, with big dreams of being a detective. He's suddenly unexpectedly smitten. Despite the 'boring' persona he's put on, he finds his affections clearly returned. You and Eos start up an extremely cute will-they-won't-they, an adorable office romance where the two of you gradually open up to each other. He finds out about your passion for bringing the rich and powerful to justice. You find out about his love of classical music.
Of course, in the meantime, you're trying to investigate this big scary 'Nightmare' guy. Perhaps you even sneak your way into one of his functions, much to Eos' dismay, determined to dig up dirt and bring down the unjust elite. Perhaps you end up having a one-on-one conversation with Nightmare... where you discover that (to your horror) Nightmare is clearly attracted to you. Even worse - you're attracted to him. The two of you have incredible chemistry like nothing you've ever felt. Nightmare is dangerous, seductive, evil, but you absolutely can't get enough of him. He's everything you tell yourself you're not allowed to want.
For you, it's a dramatic life-or-death love triangle. You're trapped between two sides of yourself; there's the safe and loving but 'boring' Eos, who represents a steady but unglamorous future. And then there's Nightmare, wealth and power, the monster that brings out the side of you no one else can. Eos loves you, but Nightmare knows you.
Nightmare? He's having the time of his life. He's found someone who loves him in all his forms, old and new. He gets the best of both worlds. Now, to find a way to bring you into the fold...
336 notes · View notes
aspenmissing · 2 days ago
Note
Hi! First of all, love your work. Second off all, could you write arcane characters with an S/O who has a really big dog? Kangal type of shit?
ᴀ ᴍᴀɴꜱ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ
ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5135 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ɴ/ᴀ
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ! ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ Qᴜɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴜɴɴʏ ᴛᴏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴇ! <3
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ
Tumblr media
JAYCE
It had been a few months since you and Jayce had started seeing each other, and things were going better than you ever could have imagined. The two of you had settled into a natural rhythm, full of easy conversation, playful teasing, and quiet moments that made your heart ache in the best way.
You’d told him plenty about yourself—your work, your hobbies, your dog—but you’d deliberately left out one small, important detail.
The breed.
Jayce, being Jayce, had assumed you had a small or medium-sized dog. Something manageable, perhaps a lively terrier or an affectionate spaniel. Maybe even a lapdog that could curl up in your arms.
You didn’t correct him.
You were waiting for this exact moment.
=
Tonight, for the first time, Jayce was coming over to your apartment for dinner. He’d been over the moon when you invited him, eager to see more of your world outside of stolen hours together in the city or at his place.
"Looking forward to finally meeting your little pup," he said with a grin as he knocked on your door, completely oblivious.
You barely held back a laugh. Oh, he has no idea.
With a smirk tugging at your lips, you unlocked the door and cracked it open. You didn’t even get a word out before chaos erupted.
A massive blur of thick, golden-red fur and sheer muscle burst through the gap like a wrecking ball, launching itself at Jayce with the force of a battering ram. A deep, earth-shaking bark echoed through the hallway as Atlas, your beloved Tibetan Mastiff, tackled your poor, unsuspecting boyfriend straight to the ground.
Jayce barely had time to let out a startled yell before he was slammed onto his back, pinned beneath what could only be described as a small bear in canine form.
"What the—?! Y/N! HELP!" Jayce wheezed as he was absolutely smothered by Atlas’s overwhelming enthusiasm.
You burst into laughter, doubling over at the sight of your massive dog sprawled across Jayce’s broad chest, eagerly licking his face with sloppy, wet kisses.
Atlas, towering and fluffy, easily weighed over 75 kilograms of sheer power and fur. His thick mane—so full it looked almost leonine—puffed out around his enormous head, making him seem even bigger than he already was. His massive paws pressed down on Jayce like he was made of paper, his heavy tail wagging so hard it nearly knocked over a side table.
Jayce, absolutely helpless, flailed beneath him. "Y/N, call him off! He’s—he’s—there’s SO MUCH OF HIM!"
Tears of laughter pricked your eyes. "I told you I had a dog!"
"You didn’t tell me you had a MOUNTAIN!" he shot back, voice muffled as Atlas joyfully slobbered all over him, his deep, pleased rumbles vibrating through his chest.
Atlas was having the best day of his life. His enormous, fluffy tail wagged harder as he panted happily, thoroughly besotted with this new human.
Finally, you took pity on your poor boyfriend. "Alright, Atlas, off."
With a low, reluctant huff, Atlas lifted his head and, after one final suffocating lick to Jayce’s cheek, heaved his massive body off of him.
Jayce sat up, breathless, dazed, and utterly covered in dog slobber.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing again.
Jayce ran a hand through his hair, which now had a considerable amount of drool in it, and turned to you with a look that was equal parts betrayal and astonishment. "THIS is Atlas?" he questioned. "This isn’t a dog, this is a whole lion!"
Atlas, completely unfazed by the accusation, plopped his gigantic rear down beside Jayce and gave him a big, toothy, doggy grin, as if expecting more attention.
Jayce blinked at him, eyes wide, before slowly turning back to you. "This is what you meant when you said you had a dog? You left out the part where he’s the size of a horse!"
You grinned as you crouched down next to Atlas, scratching behind his enormous, fluffy ears. "Would you have come over if I told you?"
Jayce opened his mouth, then shut it, clearly re-evaluating his life choices. "Honestly? Maybe not." He let out a sigh, wiping some of the excess drool off his face with his sleeve. "But now that I’m here, I guess I don’t have a choice."
Atlas let out a pleased huff, his tail sweeping across the floor in happy thumps.
Jayce looked at him warily. "He’s not gonna, like… eat me, is he?"
You snorted. "No, Jayce. He’s just obsessed with people he likes. Consider this his way of welcoming you to the pack."
Jayce glanced at Atlas, who was staring at him adoringly, eyes bright, tongue lolling out in an expression of pure joy. Despite himself, Jayce sighed and hesitantly reached out a hand.
Atlas immediately leaned into his touch, practically melting under the attention, his deep, pleased rumble vibrating through his whole body.
"Yeah, yeah," Jayce muttered, watching in mild horror as Atlas lifted a massive paw and plopped it onto his lap, effectively trapping him. "I guess he's kinda cute… in a 'he could kill me in my sleep' sort of way."
You laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to Jayce’s cheek. "You’ll get used to him."
Jayce gave you a long, dramatic sigh. Then, with an air of complete resignation, he reached out and scratched Atlas under his chin, prompting a deep, rumbling groan of bliss from your oversized beast.
"Yeah," Jayce muttered, shaking his head as Atlas nuzzled into him, tail wagging harder than ever. "I think I already have."
Tumblr media
VIKTOR
The morning had not gone as planned. Y/N had meticulously arranged for Brutus, her colossal Irish Wolfhound, to be watched while she worked in the lab, but the sitter had cancelled last minute. With no other choice, she had wrangled all 80 kilos of shaggy, excitable muscle into Piltover’s prestigious Academy, leading him down the corridors as he practically dragged her along, nails clicking loudly against the polished floors. Heads turned, students and professors alike eyeing the enormous beast with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.
Brutus was a sweetheart, really, but he had no concept of his own size. The second the doors to the lab swung open, the enormous dog’s ears perked up. His dark eyes locked onto Viktor, his long tail beginning to thump against Y/N’s leg with increasing intensity. Before she could react, Brutus let out a deep, delighted woof and tore free from her grasp, galloping forward like a force of nature.
“Brutus, no—!” Y/N yelped, lunging forward too late.
Viktor barely had time to glance up before he was nearly flattened, only managing to brace himself against the desk with his free hand as Brutus barreled into him. His cane wobbled slightly under the sudden shift in weight, and he instinctively tightened his grip on it, trying to maintain his balance. The sheer force of the impact made him stumble slightly, his knuckles whitening as he steadied himself. Tail wagging so hard it rattled the nearby equipment, Brutus let out a high-pitched whine of joy, his massive paws lifting slightly off the ground in an attempt to get even closer.
Y/N was there in an instant, desperately grabbing Brutus by his thick scruff and trying to pull him back. “Brutus, off! You’re going to knock him over—Viktor, are you alright?” Her voice was filled with panic, eyes darting to his leg in worry.
To her surprise, Viktor let out a breathless chuckle, one hand braced on the desk while the other tentatively reached up to scratch behind Brutus’ ears. “Well, this is quite the enthusiastic greeting,” he mused, amusement flickering in his golden eyes. There was a warmth to his tone, an openness that made Y/N pause, her grip on Brutus loosening slightly.
Brutus groaned in bliss at the attention, his enormous body relaxing as he flopped against Viktor’s legs. Y/N’s heart lurched. “Brutus, you’re going to hurt his leg—get off him!” she pleaded, trying to haul the behemoth away, her muscles straining against his sheer size.
Viktor, however, waved a hand dismissively, adjusting his stance slightly so his weight remained evenly distributed. “It is alright, Y/N. He is just happy to see me, yes?” He smirked as Brutus, completely ignoring Y/N’s protests, leaned in and licked his face, leaving a wet smear across his cheek. Viktor wrinkled his nose but still chuckled. “It seems he recognises my scent.”
Y/N groaned, still wrestling with the dog’s thick fur. “Of course he does. You’re all over me, so when I come home, you’re the smell he picks up on most.”
Viktor hummed, clearly enjoying that revelation far too much. “I see, I see.” His smirk deepened, a teasing glint in his eyes. “Then perhaps I should leave even more of my scent, hm?”
Y/N’s face burned, but before she could snap back, Brutus, completely unfazed by the exchange, let out a pleased huff and finally settled at Viktor’s feet, his head resting on Viktor’s lap as though he had just claimed him as his own. Viktor gave Y/N a sly grin, fingers running through the dog’s shaggy fur with slow, thoughtful strokes. “I believe you have lost this battle, Y/N. Brutus has chosen.”
Y/N groaned, dropping her forehead into her palm. “I can’t believe this. Now I have two troublemakers to deal with.”
Viktor laughed, full and rich, as he scratched Brutus behind the ears. “Oh, I assure you, I am much less work than this one.” He tapped Brutus’ nose, earning a happy chuff in response.
Y/N sighed, crossing her arms as she watched the scene before her. Viktor, looking more at ease than she’d seen him in weeks, a small smile playing at his lips as Brutus lay sprawled across his feet like a contented lapdog. It was ridiculous. It was unfair. It was—
Adorable.
She exhaled in defeat, shaking her head. “Fine. But you’re helping me walk him home later.”
Viktor raised a brow, smirking. “With pleasure.”
Y/N eyed him suspiciously. “Even if he decides to bolt and you have to keep up?”
Viktor tapped his cane against the floor with a small grin. “I will manage.”
Brutus let out a happy, rumbling sigh, and Y/N knew in that moment she was never going to win against the combined efforts of these two troublemakers.
Tumblr media
JAYVIK
Jayce stood with his arms crossed, glancing at Viktor with a sceptical expression as they stood outside Y/N’s home. "She’s exaggerating, right? A ‘giant beast’? How bad can it be?"
Viktor shifted his weight onto his good leg, gripping his cane as he shot Jayce a knowing look. "You say that now, but I have learned not to underestimate Y/N’s words. If she says it is a ‘beast,’ it probably is."
Jayce scoffed, running a hand through his hair. "Pfft. It’s just a dog."
Before Viktor could respond, the front door swung open, and Y/N stood there with a wide grin, leaning casually against the frame. "Finally! Took you two long enough. Come on in, the dogs have been dying to meet you."
Jayce and Viktor exchanged a glance before cautiously stepping inside. The house was warm and welcoming, the scent of something sweet lingering in the air—maybe tea, maybe fresh bread.
But they weren’t focused on that. Their eyes immediately began scanning the room, looking for the so-called ‘giant beast’ Y/N had warned them about.
And then, from around the corner, a tiny dog trotted into view.
A minuscule, scruffy little Yorkshire Terrier with a puffed-out chest and an attitude far too big for its size. Its wiry coat was a mix of tan and grey, ears perked high with excitement as it strutted forward like it owned the place.
Jayce blinked. "That’s it?"
Viktor tilted his head slightly, studying the tiny creature with an unimpressed look. "This is the ‘beast’?"
Y/N, clearly holding back laughter, crouched down and affectionately scratched behind the little dog’s ears. "Yep. That’s Titan."
Jayce let out a bark of laughter, crouching to the dog’s level. "Oh, come on, Y/N! You made it sound like you had some monster in here!"
Titan—despite being barely the size of Jayce’s forearm—stood proudly, his little tail wagging with confidence. He yapped excitedly and immediately tried to wrestle Jayce’s fingers, gnawing at them with all the ferocity of a tiny warrior.
Jayce grinned. "Oh yeah, real terrifying."
Viktor exhaled, leaning slightly on his cane. "I was expecting something… larger."
And then the ground shook.
A heavy thud echoed through the room.
Jayce and Viktor froze.
There was a sound of something massive moving—slow, deliberate steps, heavy paws pressing against the wooden floor. The air suddenly felt different, thick with an undeniable presence.
And then they saw it.
Emerging from the hallway, like some ancient guardian beast, was a dog so massive it practically had its own gravitational field. A Kangal, broad-shouldered and powerful, with a thick, cream-coloured coat and a dark mask over its face. Its sheer size dwarfed everything in the room, towering over the furniture.
It stared down at them with calm but all-knowing eyes—assessing, judging.
Viktor instinctively tightened his grip on his cane. Jayce slowly stood up, his laughter dying in his throat.
"...A-Are you sure that's not Titan?" Jayce asked, voice suddenly a lot quieter.
Y/N smirked, crossing her arms as the enormous Kangal sat down with a heavy huff, the sheer weight of it making the floor creak slightly. "Nope. That is Peanut."
There was a pause.
A long, painful pause.
Viktor pressed a hand over his face. "You switched their names on purpose, didn’t you?"
Y/N grinned, tilting her head innocently. "I have no idea what you mean."
Titan, the tiny Yorkshire Terrier, let out a high-pitched bark, as if personally mocking them.
Peanut—who could probably take down a fully grown man if he wanted to—merely blinked slowly before gently lowering himself onto the floor with a yawn, completely unbothered by the chaos.
Jayce swallowed hard, clearing his throat as he stepped slightly behind Viktor. "So… uh… he’s friendly, right?"
Y/N gave Peanut a few loving pats on his massive head. "Oh, absolutely. Wouldn’t hurt a fly."
To prove her point, Peanut lowered his massive head onto his paws, staring up at them with the softest, kindest eyes imaginable. His tail gave a single slow wag, clearly too relaxed to care about their presence.
Jayce let out a relieved sigh. "Alright, okay. That’s not so—"
His words were cut off as something launched at his leg.
Titan, the real beast of the house, latched onto Jayce’s ankle with all the force of a miniature hellhound, snarling like he was taking down an intruder.
"WHAT THE HELL—GET IT OFF!" Jayce yelped, shaking his leg in a panic as Titan clung on with surprising strength.
Viktor, for once, looked genuinely amused. "Ah, I see now," he mused, watching the tiny terror gnaw on Jayce’s boot. "Peanut is the gentle one. This is the monster."
Y/N doubled over in laughter. "Yeah, yeah, Peanut’s a sweetheart. But Titan?" She smirked. "He’s the real beast of the house."
Jayce finally managed to shake Titan off, the tiny dog landing gracefully on all fours and immediately puffing out his chest as if he had won the battle. He let out a triumphant bark, clearly enjoying Jayce’s suffering.
Peanut, still sprawled on the floor, let out a long, lazy sigh, completely unbothered.
Jayce ran a hand down his face. "I hate this house."
Viktor smirked, giving Peanut a few careful pats on the head before glancing at Jayce. "I, on the other hand, rather like it."
Titan barked again, eyes locked onto Jayce like he was ready for round two.
Jayce narrowed his eyes. "Don’t you dare."
Y/N grinned, wrapping an arm around both of them and pulling them closer. "Oh, relax, big guy. You’ll get used to it."
Titan wagged his tiny tail. Peanut yawned.
And Viktor? He was definitely enjoying this far too much.
Tumblr media
VANDER
The first time Y/N waltzed into The Last Drop with a mountain of fur trailing behind her, everyone assumed she’d brought a bear into the bar. The sheer size of the beast alone made Mylo shriek and scramble onto a table, clutching his drink like it was his last lifeline. Claggor, ever the level-headed one, simply blinked in astonishment, while Vi and Powder immediately rushed over to the dog with stars in their eyes.
“Christ love, what the hell is that?” Vander had asked, arms crossed, eyebrow arched as he took in the massive St. Bernard panting happily at her side.
She grinned, scratching behind the dog’s ear. “This? This is Vander.”
Vander blinked. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Meet Vander.”
Silence.
Then Powder gasped. “She named him after you! Oh my gods, she thinks you look like a dog!”
Y/N snickered as the kids erupted into laughter. Vander pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, muttering something about 'not getting paid enough for this,' despite the fact that he didn’t get paid at all.
From that day on, the beast—Vander the dog—became a permanent fixture at The Last Drop. He would amble behind the bar and flop down with a heavy thud, taking up an alarming amount of space. Vi often used him as a pillow, Powder climbed all over him, and even Mylo begrudgingly warmed up to the enormous canine (after realising Vander the dog wasn’t, in fact, out to eat him).
=
Powder, however, took things a step further. She didn’t just climb on Vander—she practically lived on him. If she wasn’t sitting on his back while he walked around, she was draped over him like a particularly lazy cat. Sometimes, she’d ride him through the bar like a horse, giggling as he lumbered along, completely unbothered. She even tried tying little ribbons in his fur at one point, though Vander (the man) put his foot down when he saw the dog parading around with bright pink bows on his ears.
“Powder, get off him,” Vi groaned one evening as Vander the dog ambled past, Powder sitting proudly on his back like she was the queen of The Last Drop.
“But he doesn’t mind!” Powder protested, wrapping her arms around the dog’s thick neck. “Do ya, big guy?”
Vander the dog huffed in amusement, his tail wagging slightly.
Human Vander shot Y/N a look. “You’re letting this happen?”
She shrugged. “He likes it. Besides, it's free entertainment.”
=
The only problem? Every time Y/N called for her dog, chaos ensued.
“Vander! Come here, boy!”
Two heads turned. The dog’s and the man’s.
Y/N bit back a grin as she watched them both react simultaneously. The dog perked up, tongue lolling, and trotted towards her eagerly. The man, on the other hand, groaned and shot her a look. “Really?”
She shrugged, completely unapologetic. “What? You do kinda look alike.”
More than once, it led to absolute confusion. Like when Powder excitedly shouted, “Vander, wanna treat?” and both Vanders turned to her with equal enthusiasm. Or when Y/N would scold, “Vander, get your ass off the floor!” and human Vander grumbled, “I AM standing up,” while the dog remained unbothered, snoring at her feet.
The worst, however, was when Y/N, exhausted from a long day, absentmindedly muttered, “Good boy,” while patting the dog’s head—only to look up and see human Vander standing there with an unreadable expression.
“Uh—”
“Y’know what? Not even gonna ask,” Vander said, shaking his head before grabbing a pint. “I need a drink.”
Despite all the mix-ups, Vander the man and Vander the dog had an unspoken understanding. The dog was his unofficial replacement whenever he was busy, acting as a very fluffy bouncer when needed. And in return, Vander (the man) made sure the dog had the best scraps from the bar. More than once, Y/N had caught him sneaking the beast a particularly large cut of meat, muttering, "Don’t tell anyone, big guy."
As much as Vander (the man) would complain, Y/N knew he secretly loved the giant fluffball. Because, at the end of the day, she often caught him sneaking the dog extra treats or murmuring, “Good boy,” when he thought no one was looking.
And if Vander (the man) would grumble when the dog responded faster to his name than he did, well… that was just a bonus.
Tumblr media
SILCO
"You what?" Silco's voice was flat, but there was a hint of trepidation beneath it.
"I need you to watch Goliath for a few hours." Y/N stood in front of his desk, arms crossed in a way that left little room for argument.
Silco pinched the bridge of his nose. "And why, exactly, am I—crime lord of Zaun, mastermind of an entire revolution—reduced to a dog sitter?"
"Because you're the only one I trust with him."
Silco narrowed his eyes. "I highly doubt that."
"Also because Sevika said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather risk being blew up my Jinx than deal with that overgrown mutt again.’"
Silco turned his gaze to Sevika, who merely took a swig of her drink and grumbled, "Thing nearly sat on my lungs last time. Couldn’t breathe for five minutes."
Silco sighed, waving a dismissive hand. "Fine. But if he eats anything valuable, you’re replacing it."
Y/N beamed. "You’re the best!" With that, she whistled, and a low rumbling growl preceded the appearance of Goliath—a Bernese Mountain Dog of utterly ridiculous proportions.
Thick, glossy black fur with rust and white patches made him look even larger as he lumbered into the room. His huge paws clicked against the floor, and his golden-brown eyes gleamed with excitement as he made a beeline for Silco.
The crime lord tensed. "That is not a dog. That is a bear."
Goliath panted happily, his fluffy tail wagging as he sniffed at Silco’s coat before promptly leaning against him.
"Good luck!" Y/N called over her shoulder as she made a swift exit, leaving Silco alone with the beast.
=
Two Hours Later
Silco was mid-conversation with Sevika, poring over a map of Zaun when he felt it.
A weight. A considerable weight.
At first, it was just a slight pressure against his legs, then a shift of movement. Then—
He glanced down.
Goliath—all 55 kilograms of him—was slowly crawling into his lap.
Silco's lips parted in silent disbelief. "…Is he—?"
Sevika’s eyebrow twitched. "Uh, boss?"
Silco remained utterly still as the massive dog wiggled his way into position, draping his front paws over Silco’s legs, his broad head resting against the crime lord’s chest.
The sheer force of the dog’s weight nearly tipped Silco’s chair back. A very real fear of toppling over and dying beneath a mountain of fur hit him.
"Unbelievable," he muttered under his breath.
Sevika, to her credit, was trying very hard not to laugh, but her shoulders were shaking.
Silco glared at her. "Say a word, and you lose another limb."
"Not sayin’ a word," she muttered, her smirk betraying her amusement.
With painstaking slowness, Silco tried to shift the dog’s weight, only for Goliath to release a deep, satisfied sigh and settle in even more.
Sevika let out a sharp snort. "Boss, I think he’s claiming you."
"He is smothering me," Silco deadpanned.
"Same thing."
"Am I the mountain in this scenario?" Silco muttered to himself, exasperated. "Because he is certainly climbing me like one."
Goliath let out a deep huff and burrowed his face into Silco’s coat, completely oblivious to the crime lord’s suffering.
Sevika completely lost it. She threw her head back, laughing in a way Silco rarely heard. "He likes you, boss!"
Silco leaned around the massive dog to fix her with a flat stare. "That is not reassuring."
At that exact moment, the door swung open, and Y/N stepped inside, taking in the sight before her—
Silco, half-buried under Goliath, looking utterly done. Sevika, doubled over in laughter.
Y/N grinned. "Aww, he chose you!"
Silco slowly turned his exhausted, soul-deep stare on her. "Take. Your. Dog."
Y/N only snorted, reaching out to scratch behind Goliath’s ears. "You’re such a good boy, aren’t you?"
Goliath thumped his tail, utterly unbothered.
Sevika grinned. "So, boss, what’s next? You taking him on walks? Maybe getting him a matching coat?"
Silco let out a long, suffering sigh. "I’m never forgiving you for this, Y/N."
Y/N, still grinning, scooped Goliath off him—though it took considerable effort. "I knew you'd be fine."
Silco muttered something about putting a bounty on his own head, while Sevika wiped a tear from her eye, still chuckling.
=
The Next Morning
Y/N knocked on Silco’s office door, a bright smile on her face. "Hey, Silco, I need another favour—"
The door creaked open just a fraction.
Silco’s mismatched eyes met hers through the gap, dark circles underlining his exhaustion.
His voice was flat. "No."
The door shut.
Y/N blinked. Then she looked down at Goliath, who panted happily beside her.
"You really did a number on him, huh?"
Goliath wagged his tail, looking far too pleased with himself.
Tumblr media
JINX/POWDER
/N sat on the worn leather couch, the rhythmic motion of her sewing machine filling the room with a steady hum as she worked on patching up one of Jinx's pants. The soft flicker of the lamp above cast a warm glow across the space, contrasting the chilly air that had settled into the small room. But it wasn’t the lamp's glow that kept her attention. It was the large, powerful figure of Thor, the Alaskan Malamute, who lay sprawled out beside her. His thick, snowy fur was tousled in places from the day’s adventures, and his calm, steady gaze rested on her as she worked. Thor’s size was impossible to ignore, yet his presence was so gentle, so comforting. He had become a quiet anchor in her life, always nearby when she needed him most, just as he had always been for the kids.
The sound of scuffling boots approached the door, followed by a voice that immediately lifted the atmosphere in the room.
“Y/N! Is Thor in there?” Jinx’s voice rang out, full of energy and excitement. Her high-pitched, almost sing-song tone was unmistakable. A wild grin appeared in the doorway as she bounced in, a whirlwind of unpredictable energy. Her wide blue eyes locked onto the massive dog, and without missing a beat, she practically flew towards him.
“Thor!” Jinx squealed, her voice full of pure joy.
Thor, ever the gentle giant, stood from his resting place with slow grace, his massive paws thudding softly on the floor. His wide, expressive eyes softened as they found Jinx. She didn’t even wait for him to fully stand before she threw herself at him. The moment her arms wrapped around his thick neck, Thor’s tail began to wag, creating a low thrum in the room as it hit the floor.
“Who’s my good boy, huh?” Jinx cooed, her face practically buried in his fur. She pressed her cheek against his massive, soft coat, laughing as she felt the warmth of his body radiate against hers. The Malamute’s thick, plush fur seemed to absorb all of her chaos and return it with unwavering affection.
Y/N smiled softly as she watched them. It always amazed her how easily Jinx, with her unpredictable and fiery personality, had found such a calm, soothing companion in Thor. There was a bond between them, one that was built on trust and the kind of wild, unconditional love that only an animal like Thor could offer.
“You two are inseparable, aren’t you?” Y/N mused, pausing her work for a moment, her hands resting on the worn fabric of the jacket. She looked over at the pair, her lips curving into a fond smile as Jinx continued to giggle, curling herself up against Thor’s enormous frame. The dog’s thick tail thumped the ground in approval, his dark eyes soft and relaxed.
“Yeah! He’s like... my giant fuzzy teddy bear!” Jinx exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. Thor seemed content to just let her cling to him, his massive body completely still as he absorbed the affection.
Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. The dog was built like a powerhouse—strong, robust, and as imposing as any beast could be. Yet, he was as patient and tender as a pup when it came to Jinx. There was something about him that grounded her. Perhaps it was his quiet, steady presence, or maybe it was his ability to see past the chaos of her nature and simply offer her a moment of peace.
After a few moments, Jinx’s face lit up again.
“Hey, Y/N, can I take him out for a walk? Please?” she asked, her eyes wide and filled with innocent pleading. “I promise I won’t make him run too fast. He deserves a little freedom, right?”
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “You know how strong he is, Jinx,” she warned gently, knowing well how hard it could be for anyone to keep up with Thor when he was on a roll. “Don’t let him drag you around, alright? And don’t go anywhere too dangerous.”
Jinx pouted playfully, giving Y/N her most exaggerated, pleading expression. “I’ll be fine! Thor and I are practically invincible together!” she declared, already bounding towards the door, grabbing his leash.
Thor’s large, dark eyes shifted from Jinx to Y/N before he bounded towards the door, his powerful frame moving with an energy that surprised anyone who didn’t know him well. Jinx was already tugging at the leash, practically bouncing with excitement.
“Alright, alright,” Y/N said, shaking her head with a smile as she watched them head out. “Just... don’t let him get too carried away.” She stood up and followed them to the door, a look of playful concern crossing her face.
As Jinx led Thor out into the crisp air, Y/N couldn’t help but smile, watching them disappear into the street. It was moments like these—quiet moments of calm after chaos—that reminded her how much Jinx had grown and how she had come to find her own sense of peace, even if it was in the form of a giant, affectionate dog. Thor was her companion, her protector, her furry confidante—and Y/N knew that, with him by her side, Jinx had a little piece of comfort, just like everyone else who had come to love the big dog.
Y/N returned to the couch, picking up her sewing once more, the gentle sound of the machine filling the room again. Despite the temporary stillness in the house, she knew that in their own way, they were all home.
265 notes · View notes
suiana · 3 days ago
Text
just a thought but imagine jirai kei bf before u start dating him ☝️
yandere! jirai kei bf who would literally curse the whole world just to be with you. he's the type of guy to go "on EVERYONE'S soul I'll be dating y/n by 2026" and actually tweak out (maybe even start a world war) if you reject him.
"on EVERYBODY'S life i will get into a relationship with them."
"erm???" <- some random person btw
"if i fumble you ALL go down with me."
yeah, i dont know if it's obvious to you but he's willing to bet everything on you. 'all in on red' ahhh reaction 🎰 anyway that's not the important part. the important part is that he looks CUTE doing it so to be honest, does it really matter if he tweaks out???
"be honest right now, you think I'm cute right?"
"well i guess... btw who even are you-"
"good, we're dating now ☺️"
"no???"
he's batshit insane. did i mention that? he's crazy. like genuinely crazy. thats why he's... a landmine, isn't he??? like??? erm... #delusion
at least he has good fashion taste too??? cute and good fashion taste??? haha that's definitely enough to make up for him taking over your life and ruining everything, right?
"bro you need to get out like right now."
"but i belong here?"
"I don't even know your NAME"
"so?"
he's so annoying. so annoying that you ended up dating him actually. yeah, bad idea. but what were you supposed to do? it's not like you could just destroy his shrine for you and toss all his makeup and cute fits into the bin...
"darling! have you seen my stuff? i just can't seem to find them anywhere☹️"
"yeah i threw them out."
"..?"
Tumblr media
291 notes · View notes
anghimalaaynasapuso · 2 days ago
Text
DISCORD BOYFRIEND KÖNIG
sfw + nsfw. this is just an amalgamation of all my ideas
könig has never been one for putting his face on social media. even before the scars that pull at the skin of his cheek, reshaping his expression in ways he’s never fully grown used to, the idea of being seen, really seen, has never sat right with him. there’s a certain comfort in anonymity, in keeping the world at arm’s length. easier that way. safer.
that unease, paired with what some might consider his more nerdy interests, means he gravitates toward spaces like discord rather than the highly curated feeds of instagram or facebook. there, he doesn’t have to worry about photos or videos— just a username, and a presence in text.
his handle is simple: king 👑. a nod to the name he’s carried for so long, stripped of rank, stripped of weight.
even in the server where he’s most active, he keeps things vague, blending into discussions about games, military history, or whatever niche interest has caught his attention that week.
every now and then, he’ll let something slip— a mention of deployment, an offhand comment, disappearing for months at a time, only to return with a sudden burst of activity. some put the pieces together. most don’t. and könig prefers it that way. it’s easier to let them think he’s just another guy with spotty internet.
your first interaction is rather simple in retrospect.
he’s back after weeks of recon, shaking off the mission like dirt from his boots, easing into the familiarity of a gaming server he’s called home for years.
it’s not a small server, so new people come and go. he does his usual routine— an automated, slightly impersonal welcome but what he doesn’t expect is the sheer enthusiasm in return.
“hi!!!!”
he stares at the message for a second, counting the exclamation marks. three. four. five? a small smile tugs at his lips before he even realizes it.
it doesn’t take long before you’re at his metaphorical side, sending a friend request before the conversation even shifts from your college courses.
the older members tease him. something about his last deployment scrambling his head enough to take a newbie under his wing. he lets them talk. he doesn’t mind.
soon enough, you’re in his private messages, dramatically lamenting your latest loss in a game he’s only vaguely familiar with. könig listens— well, reads— as you rant, words spilling out at a rapid-fire pace, interspersed with keyboard smashing and increasingly incoherent frustration.
he’s not much for new releases, preferring to sink his teeth into a single game for months on end, grinding away until mastery is muscle memory. still-
one evening, without preamble, he sends you a link. his profile. in your game.
the response is immediate. ‘king!!! 🥺’ you type, followed by an onslaught of keyboard mashing that takes up half his screen.
he exhales a short laugh, shaking his head. he wonders if you know how easy it is to make him grin like an idiot.
the calls are… an unexpected development.
könig doesn’t make a habit to join server calls. ever. it’s not even about anxiety, not really, just preference. too many voices, too much noise. he never expected to be comfortable enough with anyone to want to be in a call, let alone initiate one.
but when you start gaming together, it becomes a necessity. typing mid-match isn’t exactly efficient, and you’re the first to point that out.
“okay, listen, king, i am not about to lose another ranked match just because you take five years to type ‘behind you.’” he huffs, amused, but relents.
soon enough, calls become second nature— no longer tied to gaming, no longer requiring an excuse. you always ask first, polite thing that you are, and könig always agrees. sometimes it’s an unspoken invitation, a simple “call?” sent in the quiet hours of the night. sometimes he beats you to it, pressing the button before he can think too hard about it.
one time, it’s you who calls. he answers on the first ring.
“are you- wait.” you pause, listening. there’s a distinct, rhythmic thud-thud-thud in the background. not footsteps, but something heavier, more controlled. “are you on a treadmill?”
“mm.” his voice is steady, unaffected. a quiet confirmation.
you gasp, and he can practically hear the amusement brewing in your tone. “oh my god! you actually work out? i thought you were lying.”
he snorts, breath hitching slightly as he adjusts his pace. “why would i lie about that?”
“i don’t know! you just- i mean, you sit at your desk all day, playing the same game for hours, and you’re always online at weird times-”
“you are describing yourself,” he points out.
“shut up.”
there’s a pause, and then, with the kind of mischief that only comes from knowing exactly how to push his buttons, you add, “prove it.”
he slows to a walk, swiping open his phone. a moment later, you receive a picture. him, flexing. the lighting is dim, but you can still make out the cut of his forearm, the solid shape of his bicep. just to humor you, he throws up a peace sign.
“not stolen from pinterest.”
you burst into laughter so sudden and bright that he finds himself smiling before he can stop it.
you learn what it means to miss könig pretty early on.
it happens suddenly. one day, he’s there, active as usual, sending the occasional meme, idling in voice chat even if he’s not talking. the next? radio silence. not even a ‘typing…’ indicator.
at first, you don’t think much of it. maybe he’s sleeping in. maybe he’s busy. time zones are weird. it’s fine.
but then a whole day passes. then another. you check his status— nothing. not offline, not do not disturb, just… gone.
curiosity turns into concern, and before you can think better of it, you ask in the server.
“hey, anyone heard from king?”
the response is casual. unbothered. “oh, dude’s probably deployed again.”
you blink. reread the message. “deployed?”
“yeah, king’s military.”
there’s no warning for the way that statement knocks the air from your lungs.
military? as in, real-life combat? as in, war zones and danger and actual life-or-death situations?
you stare at the screen, fingers hovering over the keyboard, unsure what to even say to that.
he doesn’t resurface for weeks.
you don’t realize how much you’ve come to rely on his presence until it’s gone. his absence is loud in the quiet moments of your day, in the spaces where a message from him would normally be.
you check the server out of habit, catching yourself before you can search his username. it’s stupid, you think. you barely know him. he’s just some guy from a discord server.
but the worry lingers.
and then, one day, just like that— he’s back.
his return is as unceremonious as his disappearance.
no dramatic entrance, no fanfare. just a simple “hello.”
you see it the moment he sends it. your stomach flips.
before you can stop yourself, you send a private message. “you’re alive.”
a moment passes. then— “yes.”
you frown. “you were gone for weeks.”
“i know.”
frustration bubbles up. “you could’ve said something.”
“i couldn’t.”
you hesitate, fingers tightening around your phone. you don’t know what you were expecting. an explanation? reassurance? but it’s clear you’re not getting one.
but then, a follow-up message. one that feels heavier, more careful. “i’m sorry.”
and just like that, the irritation dissolves.
it’s strange, the way things slip back into place after that.
he doesn’t talk about it, and you don’t ask. but something shifts. after that deployment, könig starts telling you when he’ll be gone. nothing in detail, really. just a simple, “i’ll be away for a bit.”
(it means everything.)
slowly, you get used to it. the rhythm of his presence and absence, the way your conversations pick up right where they left off, as if no time has passed at all.
it goes on for months. this… thing between the two of you. könig doesn’t hesitate to call it friendship, though he knows, knows, it’s something else entirely.
something with edges softer than companionship, something that lingers in the pauses between conversation, in the way you had whispered his real name under your breath when he revealed it to you.
he doesn’t rush to name it. doesn’t push. he lets it simmer until it feels inevitable.
in the end, it’s you who breaks first. technically. not that he’s keeping score. not that he would ever rub it in your face, especially when he was a mere day away from asking the very same thing.
it starts with a message. no preamble, no buildup. just a simple: hey, what are we?
könig sees it and reacts before thinking. presses the call button so fast his thumb practically smashes the screen. it rings once, twice—
“you didn’t even ask.” your voice comes through, half exasperated, half amused.
“didn’t want to give you time to unsend.” his own voice is steady, but his heart is anything but.
you huff. “bold assumption.”
“not really.”
a pause. he hears you shift, fabric rustling, the sound of you settling in. something warm and slow uncoils in his chest at the familiarity of it.
“so,” you start, hesitant. “what’s your answer?”
könig exhales, tipping his head back against his pillow. “do you want the truth?”
“obviously.”
he hums, considering. in reality, he’s known the truth for a while now. probably before you even realized it yourself.
“i like you,” he says, simple, sure. then, because he knows you, because he knows your deflections, your habit of teasing when you get nervous, he adds, “and i’m very aware you like me back.”
you sputter. “that’s a bold assumption-”
“not really,” he repeats, smug this time.
you groan, but you’re laughing, and it sends something bright flickering through him.
könig doesn’t ask for nudes. not once. he flirts, he teases, but never pushes. he knows your boundaries, respects them, never even hints at wanting more. if anything, he’s careful. too careful, sometimes. like he’s afraid of crossing a line you haven’t even drawn.
so when you finally send something, it’s your choice.
the first picture is tame. barely anything. it's a shot of your thighs, soft and warm in the low light of your room. nothing scandalous. nothing too revealing. but the second you hit send, your stomach twists with nerves.
könig sees it immediately. you watch the typing bubble appear, disappear, then appear again. and then— “fuck.”
you grin. “good?”
“you have no idea.”
it only escalates from there.
könig never requests more. but when you send it, when you want to send it, his reaction is worth it. he worships you through the screen, tells you how beautiful you are, how much he wishes he could touch you.
“pretty,” he texts once, attached to a voice message.
you press play. his breath is ragged, like he’s just run a mile. “pretty thing,” he repeats, voice tinged with something almost reverent. “you’re going to ruin me, love.”
the first time he sends you something, it takes him forever to work up to it.
you don’t ask for it. wouldn’t dream of pushing him into something he’s not comfortable with. könig isn’t shy, necessarily, but he’s private. you know that by now.
so when, out of nowhere, a picture pops up on your screen, your brain short-circuits.
it’s cropped carefully, but there’s no mistaking what you’re looking at— bare skin, broad shoulders, his stomach flexed just slightly.
“you like?” he texts after a minute.
you swallow hard. “yes.”
“good.” and then— “more?”
you bite your lip. “please.”
könig gets bolder after that.
he sends more. never too much, always teasing, always just enough to leave you wanting. sometimes it’s his hands, sometimes it’s his abs, the sharp cut of his hip bones, the waistband of his sweatpants hanging just low enough to make your mouth water.
one night, he sends a voice message instead. you press play.
at first, all you hear is his breathing. then, slowly, softly— your name, whispered through a noise that makes heat bloom low in your stomach.
“wish you were here,” he murmurs. “wish you could see what you do to me.”
the actual nudes don’t take long. not ar all. you’re both desperate. buzzing. könig’s the one who caves first.
it starts with your text. 10 p.m., the hour where inhibitions slip through grasping fingers like sand.
“wanna see your cock so bad, könig…” you murmur to your propped phone, cheek pressed to your pillow, another one stuffed against your chest like it might replace the hollow ache between your ribs. a distraction. a poor substitute.
on the other side of the screen, he exhales, dragging a hand down his face. fingers tensing, then flexing, like he needs something to hold onto. “love-” your whine cuts through before he can even think. instinctive. needy. his stomach clenches. “okay, okay. as long as you're sure.”
his heart pounds as he opens his photos. he doesn’t exactly collect dick pics, but there are a few kept locked away, private albums, a passcode he suddenly fumbles to enter.
three minutes. that’s how long it takes to choose the best one. the right angle. the right lighting. enough to make your breath hitch when you see it.
he hits send before he can overthink it, then leans back, phone balanced on his thigh, bottom lip caught between his teeth.
your phone buzzes. the photo pops up. you blink, breath hitching sharp in your throat.
“oh my god.” the words spill out of you before you can even think to stop them. “könig…” you stare at the screen, gaze locked on the thick, heavy length of him. the way it curves slightly, resting against his thigh like it’s weighed down by its own sheer mass. your breath stutters.
“you're so fucking big.” it barely registers that you've said it aloud.
“yeah? you like it?
“like it?” you shoot back. “i want it inside me.”
his breath leaves him in one harsh exhale. he shifts, hips rolling involuntarily like he can feel your words on his skin.
“can i see you too?” he sounds so polite. and then, as if that wasn’t enough to twist the knife deeper— “please?”
your stomach flips. you bite your lip, already reaching for your phone camera, the need to show him everything burning through you like wildfire.
your breath comes shallow as you slip your hand lower, phone steady in the other. the need is a pulse under your skin, throbbing, insistent. you pull the covers back just enough, the cool air prickling against the heat between your thighs.
the camera catches everything. your slightly parted thighs, your swollen clit, the wetness gushing out of your hole. it feels like baring a secret you’ve never told anyone. you hesitate for half a second, heart racing, then hit send.
the second the message disappears from your screen, it hits you— you just sent that to him.
on his end, könig freezes. the photo loads slow, torturous, and when it finally pops up, he feels his whole body tense, blood rushing south so fast it’s dizzying. “f-fuck, i need to be inside of you-”
sex with könig, if you can even call it that, at first, sneaks up on you. you never thought you’d be the kind of person who got into this. sending texts that made your face burn, leaving voice messages you could barely listen back to without cringing. but with him, it’s different. easier. less embarrassing because it’s him.
still, going from nudes to actual phone sex takes some time.
“gonna sleep,” könig texts you once, attached to a blurry photo of his bed.
“alone?” you send back, teasing.
the typing bubble appears. then disappears. then— “obviously.”
you grin at your phone, satisfied. but then— “but i could use some company.”
you stare at the message longer than you’d like to admit.
didn't tell him that you had woken up panting, arousal between your thighs, könig’s name on your lips too many times. didn't tell him that you had pressed your hand against your clit during your calls, to the sound of his voice, to his laugh, to the quiet, wrecked groans he sometimes lets out when he stretches after a workout.
in the past, you hadn't told him how many times you’d dreamt of him because you thought you'd scare him off, kept your mouth shut about the images that haunted you at night, of his hands pinning you down, his mouth at your throat.
but you wanted to.
and tonight, you would.
the conversation turns slow. lazy. heavy with something unspoken.
“you sound tired,” könig murmurs, voice warm. he’s always like this late at night. soft, unhurried, like he’s sinking into the sound of you.
you swallow hard. your skin feels too hot, too tight. “i’m not.”
a pause. then, lower— “what is it, love?”
you hesitate, pressing your lips together. it’s too much. too embarrassing. but he knows something is different.
“talk to me. tell me what you’re thinking.”
you let out a shaky breath. “i had a dream about you.”
the silence stretches.
you can hear him inhale. you bite your lip. force yourself to continue. “i think about you. when i-” you stop. you can’t say it. can’t admit it.
könig exhales through his nose, like he’s trying to steady himself. “when you what?”
your stomach is a knot of nerves. but you want this. want him. so you take a breath, close your eyes. “when i touch myself.”
his breath stutters.
“fuck.” the word is almost a groan. your pulse hammers, blood rushing through your ear as heat pools in your stomach.
“könig,” you whisper.
he exhales, whispers his next words like a beg, “say it again.”
you swallow. “i touch myself to you.”
“i do too.”
your stomach flips. “what?”
“i-” he cuts himself off with a quiet curse, like he's frustrated with himself for hesitating. “i touch myself to you too.”
your breath catches. heat blooms in your chest, spreading down your spine. “könig-”
“all the time.” his voice is lower now, raw, like he's aching with it. “when i can't sleep. when you're on call with me, laughing, teasing me. when i wake up hard in the middle of the night and can’t stop thinking about stuffing you full.”
your body is burning again, despite the aftershocks still rolling through you. you're about to choke out a reply when you hear it— the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of bedsprings, the wet slide of skin on skin.
“are you-”
a sharp inhale. “yes.”
“let me hear you,” you whisper, thinking about his pretty, pretty cock. uncut, soft skin stretched over the flushed head, the way it would slide back when he’s fully hard, revealing the deep pink of his leaking tip. the veins that wind down the length, standing out against the pale skin
there's a pause, a hitch in his breath. then, slowly— “okay.”
there's a small rustle, könig adjusting himself on the bed. the faint sound of him pumping lotion on his hand. a quiet sigh. and then, a low grunt as the warmth of his palm wraps around his cock.
könig looks down at his hand, eyes half-lidded, hips bucking up in small thrusts. he imagines your pussy instead of his fist, hot and tight and so fucking warm, fluttering around his length as he pushes in, spearing you open with a cock too big for your little cunny.
he knows you’d cry for him, little gasps and hiccupped moans, squirming beneath him as he bullies his cock deeper, past that tight ring of muscle into the slick, warm clutch of your cunt.
“a-ah- fuck, ah-”
your breath stutters at the sounds, hips grinding against your palm. “wish i could see you.”
“on cam?”
you groan, squeezing your thighs around the pillow in-between your legs, grinding your clit against the material softly. “yes, please..”
fuck, you're so polite.
262 notes · View notes
luvyeni · 14 hours ago
Text
ALL FOR YOU 𝕼. ( 이민형 )
Tumblr media
𝓲𝓲 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒𓈒 ( 이민형 x fem!reader )   ─── ❛ genre ⸝⸝ smut. content warning. idol!mark x idol!reader, unprotected sex , oral ( f ) , little bit of jealousy word count. 2.5k 「 req? ⦂ yes/no 」 library  !
synopsis … you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out.
𝕼 ㅤ𓈒ㅤ𓈒 yeni’s note .ᐟ this one i like , so good job to me …
Tumblr media
you knew mark and you would eventually cross paths; being in the same company and all — but this , this was stressing you out…
“okay yn since you’re the youngest; you can pair up with jisung since he’s also the youngest.” you and the tall boy exchanged small awkward smiles. “aren’t they so cute together?” you heard yuna whisper to mark; you boy next to you clearly heard because he started to turn a deep shade of red — not cause he liked you, but because knew you were with mark.
you and mark met when you were still a trainee under sm. you’d accidentally walked into the wrong practice room, mark so happened to be in there… to say you were embarrassed was an understatement. he found it cute and endearing, watching you scramble to find the right words — but all you could manage was a small squeak.
from that day on; he tried to seek you out, finding you in the practice room, pretending to be confused. looking for you in the cafeteria where you sat with the other trainees and future group mates. he never said anything, no, he didn’t want to get you in trouble; but that didn’t stop him from looking; and falling for what he saw.
he knew what he was getting himself into when he asked you out; he was not only asking someone younger than him, but his junior at that — he was asking for trouble, but he couldn’t help it. he liked you so much and you liked him.
your debut was announced about a month after you and mark began to secretly date, he was so excited for you; that was also the first time you two had sex and it was mind blowing.
you both didn’t want anyone to found out about your relationship; but unfortunately haechan has the code to mark’s apartment and loves to show up announced sometimes — and after a awkward first meeting with haechan and you, and mark pinning him down to the floor to get him shut his mouth; he promised not to tell staff… but that didn’t stop him from telling the other dreamies.
you decided to not tell your members at all — which you are currently regretting. “mark is kinda cute don’t you think?” yuna sat next to you as you sat down for a quick break. “huh?” you said. “and he so obviously wants me, you see how low his hands went.” you followed her gaze to your boyfriend who was talking to your manager. “he wants me for sure, should i ask for his number?”
you were stunned; how do you answer that question? “um i don’t think that’s a good idea , we really aren’t supposed to be dating.” you said , how ironic. “besides he’s probably already in a relationship.” you said , hoping she’d drop it, the jealousy starting to boil inside your stomach. “so innocent yn , of course he doesn’t a guy as fine as he is , he’s probably fucking all around world he has no time to have a girl waiting for him.” she stood up ; walking away leaving you with a heavy heart and green with jealousy. “i have to use the bathroom.” you got up. “hurry back, we have to practice , this collab has to be perfect.” yuna said , nodded walking out the room.
more like slamming the door behind you in marks eyes. “what’s wrong with her?” haechan asked. “did you two fight?” the elder shook his head; in fact he just talked to you before you guys met up and you seemed excited to be working with him and his group. “her and member seemed to be having a conversation before she stormed out , maybe they’re having a argument.” jaemin said. “should i go after her?” mark asked; normally he wouldn’t ask a question like that, he’d just go, but there were a bunch of staff and cameras around he didn’t want anyone catching on. “duh , go.” chenle said. “we’ll make sure no one finds out anything.”
he nodded , standing up walking out the door. “hey mark.” yuna batted her eyelashes at the boy. “hi.” was all he said before leaving out to find you.
why were you even mad? you could’ve told her and ended it there. you just didn’t want to jeopardize your careers and ruin your groups reputation, you were still in your early parts of your career. “get it together, you’re a professional.” you said to yourself before walking out of the bathroom , only to be pushed back in.
“mark what the hell?” you shrieked. “did anyone see you?” you questioned. “what’s wrong?” mark said , looking into your eyes; his filled with worry. “nothing im fine.” you tried to walk out but he grabbed your wrist. “mark.” you frowned. “tell me what’s wrong , the way you slammed that door.” he said. “did you and your member have a fight?” he asked. “no.” you trailed off. “then what is it?”
“its stupid.” you whispered , eyes to the floor. “hey.” he grabbed your chin, lifting your head up. “nothing you feel is stupid to me.” his hand covered your cheek, caressing it softly. “so tell me what’s wrong baby.” you sighed before speaking up. “it’s yuna , she likes you.” you said. “she wants to ask for your number.”
he didn’t want to laugh, but the cute pout on your lips as you spoke, he couldn’t help but chuckle. “are you laughing at me?” you asked. “i told you it was stupid , let me go.” you pulled away from him , but he grabbed you , pulling you close to wrap his arms around you. “you’re just too cute baby , so jealous and so cute.” he said. “it’s not funny , i told her you probably have a girlfriend and you know what she said.” he smiled listening to you ramble. “she said there’s no way a guy as fine as you are isn’t fucking all around the world.”
“she said that?” he said; of course that wasn’t true. “yeah , can you believe it.” you said. “and i guess she wants to be next.” you pouted, slapping his arm. “don’t say it like it could be a possibility mark.” he winced , rubbing the spot. “baby you know it’s not a possibility, not even a 0.01% chance i would do that,” he said. “you sure?” he giggled, kissing your pouty lips. “100%.” you smiled. “now stop pouting and let’s get back to the practice room before they start to question our whereabouts.”
“wanna stay here with you.” you said , he smiled. “come over tonight , and you’ll have me all to yourself yeah?” he had you pinned against the sink. “you’d like that?” you bit your lip nodding. “yeah.” he was about to pull you into a kiss — when you both got a ping on your phones. he groaned , pulling away from you. “we have to go.” you said. “why now when im so hard,” he said. “just 5 more minutes.” your phones going off again. “i don’t think we can.” you said. “let’s go before they send a search party.”
you made your return first; coming up with a excuse to tell your leader; luckily she didn’t question it. “just get in line and get ready.” you nodded , standing next to jisung. “happy now?” he smirked , you rolled your eyes , pushing him. “look who’s back.” mark made his way back inside the room. “there were people at the vending machine,” he said. “at the vending machines and yet not a single snack or anything.” haechan said. “i ate it on the way back.” he gritted through his teeth , silently threatening the boy. “okay , okay let’s get back to practice.” the choreographer said ; mark giving you a quick glance and a wink making you smile as the music started.
“good job everybody.” the choreographer said; mark watched you begin to pack up. “here.” someone shoved a piece of paper in his face. “uh.” he looked up, yuna staring him in the face. “it’s my number.” she said. “oh , i don’t think — yuna lets go.” your leader called out for the girl. “here.” she dropped it in his hand making her way out ; you watched the whole thing. “yn.” he called out. “bye.” you gave him a tight lipped smile as you made your way out. “she’s jealous.” jeno said. “yeah no shit.” he tossed the paper in the trash.
“baby please talk to me.” you sat on his bed later that night , arms folded stubbornly against your chest. “you know what she did as soon as we got back to the dorms?” you said. “she went on and on how you couldn’t keep your eyes off of her boobs , how you were definitely into her and you taking her number solidified that.” you spat out , he laid against the headboard , his hand coming up to your thigh. “baby i told you i wasn’t , i threw the number away.” he whined. “and i wasn’t looking at her boobs , i was looking past her , looking at your boobs.”
“now isn’t the time for jokes mark.” you said flatly , trying to hold back a smile. “but it got you to smile.” he pulled you back against a smile. “mark.” he kissed behind your ear. “i don’t want anyone else but you.” he whispered, knowing what it did to you. “you’re so cute when you’re jealous , huffing and puffing.” he said , hands traveling down to your side. “makes me so hard.” he turned your head around, pulling you into a heated kiss.
he slipped his tongue inside your mouth , both of you moaning into the kiss , he flipped you over so he was on top. “so fucking pretty.” he dipped inside your neck. “you don’t know what you do to me , how much i wanted to pull you away from jisung.” he groaned. “his hands were too low on you.” he growled. “se-seems like you were jealous too.” you whimpered , he bit down on your neck. “fuck mark don’t leave any marks.” he licked the spot on your neck. “fuck of course i was jealous baby , i wanted to dance with you , not her.” he gripped your waist tightly. “all i could think about is you while dancing.”
he kissed down the valley of your breast. “the way you looked.” *kiss* “the way you talked.” *kiss* “the way you smelled.” he gave you one final kiss. “fuck and the way you taste.” he pulled your leggings down your legs , spreading them open. “ma-mark i need you.” you desperately mewled. “yeah?” he smirked. “need me to lick your pretty pussy.” he kissed your clothed cunt. “mhm pl-please.” he pulled your panties to the side; his cock twitching in his sweats. “look how wet you are.” he groaned. “all this for me baby?” you nodded , he gave your clit another kiss. “mhm fuck , you taste so good.” he dove into your heat , passionately licking your folds. “ma-mark , fuck that feels good.”
he hummed against your heat , holding your legs apart as he feverishly licked your folds. “fuck , fuck keep going.” your hand tangled up into his hair as your hips bucked up involuntarily. “fuck mark im gonna cum.” he replaced his mouth with his fingers , pushed two inside. “you’re so wet , gonna cum for me?” you nodded , the knot in your belly getting tighter. “cum for me then , be a good girl and cum for me.” you gasped out , the knot finally snapping as you came all over her fingers. “good fucking girl.” his voice filled with lust. “made such a mess on my fingers.”
he pushed his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. “so sweet.” he said. “like fucking candy baby.” he untied the string to his sweats , pulling them down just enough to free his fully erected cock. “look how hard i am for you.” he pressed his tip against your hole. “only get like this for you.” he slowly slid inside you. “fuck mark , so-so big.” you moaned , he grunted. “sh-shit baby you’re so tight.” his cock slowly filling you up , his cock kissing your cervix. “love this pussy so much.”
he pulled out , stopping at the tip; pushing himself all the way in. “so so much.” he groaned. “mark faster.” you moaned. “faster?” he said , speeding up. “yes like that.” your fingers running through his hair. “no need to be jealous baby , it’s all for you.” he groaned. “all mines.” he groaned as you tugged at his hair. “it’s yours.” he whispered in your ear. “so take what’s yours baby.”
he pulled out of you; laying back letting you climb into his lap. “ride me baby , ride your cock.” he groaned as you held the base of his cock , sinking down on him. “fuck mark.” he watched in awe as you rode him; bouncing up and down on his length. “fuck that feels good princess , ride me , ride it like you own me.” he held your waist as you worked his cock. “fuck baby im about to cum.” he moaned out. “no-not yet , almost there.” you stuttered , legs faltering. “fuck , fuck mark im about to cum.”
he held your hips , bucking up into your needy cunt. “fuck baby cum.” he groaned. “cum.” both of you moaning out as you came at the same time , your head dropping in between his neck. “b-baby don’t leave any marks , my manager will kill me.” he sighed , loving the feeling on his lips … okay maybe he can’t take the scolding.
“what were you thinking , the makeup artist is gonna kill you if that isn’t gone by the performance.” you heard his manager scolding him as your group walked into the practice room. “next time at least put it somewhere no one can see.” the older man shook his head in disappointment. “so irresponsible.” you chuckled , covering your smile. he looked at you frowning. “guess he had too good of a time last night.” your other member said. “guess yuna was wrong.” you looked at yuna who looked upset upon seeing the mark on his neck. “let’s just get this over with.” she said stomping away; your other member was chuckling. “don’t worry she’ll get over it , if not oh well.” she said. “and don’t you laughed too much.” she turned to you. “what are you talking about?”
she rolled her eyes. “you think im dumb , if you aren’t careful you’ll be getting a scolding just like he is.” she said. “at least he’s smart enough to put it somewhere no one can see.” she walked away leaving you stunned; mark looking at you curiously. “what?” he mouthed , you pointed to your member. “she knows.” you mouthed back, he shrugged. “tell them all.”
guess it’s time to tell your members the truth.
Tumblr media
©️LUVYENI
258 notes · View notes
bippot · 2 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
Sick Little Baby
Story Summary -> Poor Eddie didn't show up to school because he has a bit of a cough and Wayne needs his rest, so his best friend and her puppy are willing to come to his aid.
Tags -> Domestic Fluff, Sick Character, Cutesy, Friends to Lovers, Caretaking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Would you prefer to read this on AO3? Click here!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Skipping school was practically Eddie's signature move - his go-to, if you will. He’d done it so often that the members of Hellfire Club barely batted an eyelid when he mysteriously vanished during lunch. Perhaps he was off sealing some shady deal, or maybe he was just blissfully snuggled in his bed back at his trailer, or, let’s be real, maybe he simply didn’t feel like showing up. But there was one day they could always count on him to be there - Thursdays, the sacred day of their campaign. It was a non-negotiable rule: no Dungeon Master meant no game at all as that was just downright impossible. 
Dustin, ever the charming little shit, decided it was high time to check in on their favourite troublemaker. "I’ll call," he proclaimed, but as the idea marinated, he quickly reconsidered. “Actually, you do it,” he whined and thrust a slip of paper with Eddie's number into Y/N's hands like it was a ticking bomb.
Y/N raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. “Oh, what’s the matter, Henderson? Are you scared Wayne will answer?”
“Yes. He’s terrifying, and he knows you.” Dustin exclaimed, his eyes wide as saucers.
“Terrifying? Come on, Wayne is not scary.” She chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the dramatic antics of the younger boy.
“He is too,” he shot back as if that would somehow bolster his argument.
Dustin huffed, his arms crossed, throwing a challenge her way with his pout. If she continued her teasing, he had the perfect ammunition to retaliate - after all, he had witnessed that embarrassing moment when he caught her doodling Eddie's name in her notebook while Mike took what felt like an eternity to figure out his next move during one of their sessions. Dustin had leverage, and he was not shy about wielding it when the moment called for it.
With a teasing grin, Y/N sidestepped him and snatched up the phone, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “Henderson, you are a complete pussy.”
"Yeah, yeah. Just call the damn number."
Y/N took a deep breath and dialled the number, her fingers dancing over the keys like they were playing a lively tune. "Munson residence," came a gruff voice, thick with sleep. It had to be Wayne. Had they disturbed his slumber? Poor guy probably worked the night shift and was running on fumes. The thought made her stomach twist with a pang of guilt.
"Hey, Wayne. It's Y/N," she chirped, trying to keep the mood light.
"Oh hey, youngster." Wayne's voice brightened, and she could practically picture the warm smile that surely graced his face. Honestly, she had no idea why Dustin was so scared of him. The man radiated a laid-back charm that could put anyone at ease, a stark contrast to Eddie's frosty family atmosphere. Sure, Wayne was a bit rough around the edges, but it only added to his character - a man forged by countless night shifts and the pressures of life. He had always treated her with kindness. 
She sheepishly twirled the phone cord around her finger, feeling a hint of embarrassment. "Did I wake you? I'm so sorry - "
Wayne's chuckle interrupted her, “I was already awake, kiddo. Eddie’s been coughing all morning long.”
In the background, the unmistakable sounds of Eddie's smoker's cough echoed through the receiver, the harsh notes of it painting a vivid picture of the scene - Eddie huddled under a mountain of blankets, the world outside a distant memory. "Yeah, that idiot boy has come down with a cold or some shit." She could almost hear the eye roll in Wayne's voice as he continued, "He ain't sick enough to quit smoking, though."
Despite the concern that washed over her, Y/N couldn’t help but tease, "Yeah, Ed smokes like a chimney." She tried to ignore Dustin, who was prodding her ribs insistently, a mischievous glint in his eye as he urged her to spill the tea. "Do you need anything? I can always swing by the pharmacy on my way home and grab some stuff."
A hearty laugh erupted from Wayne. "Be my alibi when I strangle him? He’s been keeping me from my beauty sleep," he quipped, a playful bitterness colouring his words, which made Y/N chuckle softly.
"I could always look after him if you want to catch some Z's before your shift tonight. I don't mind, really." The prospect of taking care of Eddie sparked a glimmer of excitement in her. With Hellfire cancelled for the evening, she had to find something to fill her time, and homework? No, thank you. "My parents are on holiday, and my house is eerily quiet. A coughing idiot could liven the place up a bit."
Wayne paused; the line filled with the distant sounds of Eddie's coughs and the rustling of bedsheets, and then after a moment, he finally replied, "I knew you were my favourite of Eddie’s friends for a reason." A smirk came upon his face as he added, "Just don’t kill him."
A grin broke across her face, lighting it up like the summer sun. “I’ll do my best. I’ll swing by and pick him up after school.” 
“Okay. Thanks a tonne, kid. I owe you big time.” He replied, his voice bubbling with gratitude. “Talk to ya later, alright?”
“Later, Wayne.” 
Once the call ended, she turned her attention to her friend, and what a sight he was. Dustin wore a smirk so smug it could rival the Cheshire Cat, that knowing glimmer in his eye making her roll her own in playful defeat. “Shut up,” she sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind her words; they both erupted into laughter.
“Oh, Eddie. Let me take care of you, my sick little baby,” he teased, his impression of Y/N so awful it was almost a performance art. She playfully thumped his arm and shook her head, a blend of exasperation and delight making her cheeks bloom a rosy pink.
“Shut it,” she chided, but the warmth in her voice said otherwise.
In a comically exaggerated fashion, Dustin turned his back to her, wrapping his arms around himself as he began to mimic smooching sounds, his voice soaring higher. “Mwah, mwah. One day, I’m going to be Mrs. Munson, just you wait. Eddie. Yes, I will marry you. I will bear your fuzzy-headed offspring. Mwah. I just love making out with you so much -” 
He was on a roll, completely unaware of her absence until he spun around to find she had already scampered off. The phone line had captured his ridiculous declarations, leaving whoever had walked by to possibly think he was just a boy doing something incredibly peculiar. One girl shot him a look, silent but clear, her expression tinged with a certain judgement.
With Hellfire postponed, Y/N dashed off for Eddie's place the moment the bell rang - well, she made a quick stop at the drugstore first, but Eddie was on her mind - and when she arrived, the older Munson looked every bit as worn out as she anticipated. What was left of his hair was in a wild disarray, sticking up like he had just wrestled a tornado, and dark circles hung beneath his bloodshot eyes like heavy shadows. He sported rumpled clothes that had seen better days, clearly a sign he hadn’t showered yet. And as soon as Wayne spotted her car pulling up, he playfully nudged Eddie out the door with a grin, “There she is, your knight in shining... dungarees.”
Eddie looked just as bad, if not worse. He was bundled in a thick hoodie and sweatpants, with a blanket haphazardly tied around his shoulders like a makeshift cape. Yet, even this cosy ensemble couldn’t stop him from shivering. In a valiant but ultimately futile effort, he had tied his hair into a messy bun that was mostly falling apart, and his nose was a bright shade of red, his expression screaming, ‘Yeah, not my best moment.’
Rolling down her window, she couldn’t help but tease, “Wow, you look like hell.”
“Thanks,” he muttered sarcastically as he climbed into her car, a small smile teasing the corners of his lips as he closed the door. “How would you like it if I said you looked like shit?”
“I said you looked like hell, not shit,” she shot back, her tone light.
“Oh, so I don’t look like shit?” he questioned, a playful glint in his eye.
“Nope. You do.” 
Wayne waved a grateful goodbye and retreated back inside the trailer, likely seeking the sweet embrace of sleep he desperately needed.
“How are you feeling?” she asked, glancing at Eddie, who was still cocooned in his blanket, looking every bit the part of a cosy burrito.
He shrugged, leaning forward with a playful tilt, elbows perched on his knees, as he gazed out the window like a weary traveller searching for a glimpse of adventure. “Like crap, actually,” he admitted, his voice still heavy with sleep, before turning back to her with an exaggerated pout that could’ve melted glaciers. 
Oh, that pout wasn’t exactly doing him any favours. It made her giggle - a little snicker that was probably a bad idea considering the fierce glare he shot in her direction - but honestly, it didn’t bother her nearly as much as it should have. It was downright adorable, especially when they finally reached her house, and Eddie shuffled toward her front porch like a toddler, clutching his blanket as if it were a trusty sidekick against the Arctic chill. In that moment, his grumpiness was more endearing than serious, and she couldn’t help but smile.
As soon as she flung open the door, a whirlwind of fur came barreling down the stairs, a puppy racing toward them in a blur of excitement. She crouched down, letting the little furball sniff her hand before scooping him up into her arms. “I missed you too, Chewie,” she declared with a laugh as the mini Briard showered her cheek with enthusiastic licks. Y/N chuckled, scratching behind his floppy ears, and cradled him close as they ventured into her cosy haven.
Eddie, however, made a dramatic beeline for the couch, flopping down with a theatrical sigh, wrapping his blanket tightly around himself like a cocoon. He buried his face into the throw pillow, surrendering to silence, except for the occasional cough that escaped him. “You okay?” she asked, gently placing Chewie on the couch beside him. Eddie merely nodded, pulling his blanket even tighter, like a protective shield. “You hungry? Thirsty? Got a headache?” 
“Yep, yes...and yes.” He rubbed at his temples, glancing her way with those big brown puppy-dog eyes that made her heart do cartwheels. Even without the actual words spilling from his lips, she could feel his silent plea of ‘Please?’
Without a second thought, she sprang into action to gather what he needed. “Go cuddle up to Eds. He needs it, bud,” she urged Chewie, who seemed to understand her perfectly, and the dog was instantly bounding over to Eddie as if he were a little guardian of comfort. 
A few moments later, Y/N returned, triumphantly carrying painkillers and a water bottle, only to find Eddie deep in conversation with the puppy about absolutely nothing in particular.
Eddie eyed them with faux suspicion. “Cyanide?”
“Belladonna,” she quipped, grinning.
With an exaggerated groan, he extended his hands to accept the items from her and downed them like a champion, returning the empty bottle with a satisfied huff. She held up her hand triumphantly—two out of the three checks complete. But one crucial task remained. 
“Food, please,” he whined, pouting just like he had in the car. 
She dashed off to the kitchen as she went to warm up some soup. It might not have been a culinary masterpiece fit for a five-star restaurant, but it was quick and simple—a cosy hug in a bowl. The aromatic waft that filled the air was enough to elicit an adorably goofy grin from Eddie when she brought it to him, as if she had just served him the finest feast in the universe. In that blissful moment, all the worries of the world faded away, leaving just the two of them basking in the comforting warmth of home.
Once the bowl was safely in his grasp, she settled in beside him, propping her feet up on the coffee table with a satisfied sigh. At first, he gave her a strange look, as if she had just sprouted a second head, but once she asked, "What? Do you want me to feed you too?" 
With a cheeky grin, she snatched the spoon from his hand and teased, "Here comes the aeroplane for the little baby boy," her voice taking on an exaggerated tone that could make anyone chuckle. Now, she never would have expected him to actually open his mouth and let her feed him, but there it was. The joyful face he made while she did it made her realise, "You love being coddled, don't you?" 
His small nod confirmed it, though he looked about as sheepish as a child caught with its hands in the cookie jar. He glanced at her with a mix of curiosity and mischief, and she merely shrugged, continuing to spoon-feed him. The silence that enveloped them was blissfully comfortable, broken only by the occasional slurp or a light-hearted cough that made them chuckle together.
As she placed the spoon back in the now-empty bowl, she suddenly felt a gentle tug at the side of her shirt. Looking down, she spotted Chewie, who had snuck in and was now cosily sprawled out beside them, resting his chin on Eddie's knee. A warm smile crept across her face as she lovingly scratched behind his ears, eliciting a happy wag of his tail.
"Thank you," Eddie eventually said, joining in on the ear-scratching. She nodded absentmindedly in acknowledgement, setting the bowl down on the coffee table before stretching out on the couch next to him. Just as she was about to close her eyes, he broke the serenity with his heartfelt words. "For taking care of me. And Wayne, I guess."
"It's nothing. You're my best friend, Eddie, and you know I'd do anything for you," she replied, her voice low and sincere, yet buoyant with warmth. There was something about hearing those words that made Eddie feel lighter, like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. She didn’t say it often, but when she did, it rang with more meaning than a thousand other affirmations ever could.
To her, Eddie was family. A fierce loyalty and protective love wrapped around her heart for him. He was a wild mix of annoyance, stubbornness, and a bit of childlike wonder, but that was what made him so endearing. She loved him dearly, and caring for him felt as natural as breathing.
Speaking of her loveable crew, it was time for Chewie's dinner. "I know you're comfy, but do you want your food? Dinner time?" She called to the eager pup, her voice slightly higher, infused with excitement. Watching as his tail wagged in a frenzy, ready for his meal, she couldn’t help but giggle. "Let's go then. Lead the way."
Chewie bounded off to the kitchen with uncontainable energy, his tiny legs a blur. He was such a little guy, but his enthusiasm was boundless. He darted across the kitchen floor, barking joyously as he made a beeline for his food bowl, practically vibrating with impatience as he waited for her to prepare his meal. Her heart swelled with affection as she realised that her dog and her best friend shared so many similarities.
"Hey, hey buddy, slow down," she teased lightly, watching as Chewie practically inhaled his dinner. "Jesus fucking Christ. Breathe a little, babe." 
Returning to the sofa, Y/N felt Eddie lean against her shoulder the moment she settled in, his contented sigh enveloping her in a warm cocoon of familiarity and affection. Time seemed to pause as they lingered in that embrace, Eddie snuggling closer, melting into the comfort of her presence as if she were a soft, reassuring blanket that shielded him from the chaos of the world. Y/N's fingers instinctively found their way to his wild mane of hair, a playful smile dancing on her lips as she gently tugged at the scraggly elastic band he had used as a makeshift hair tie. With tender care, she began to untangle the messy strands, laughter bubbling between them like a sweet melody. 
It was a simple moment, but it felt as if the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them wrapped in their own little universe. She could hear his quiet intake of breath as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the soothing sensation of her fingers weaving through his hair, combing out the tangles and transforming his chaotic locks into something almost presentable. The gentle rhythm of her touch was hypnotic, and he found himself wishing it would last forever. 
Soon, his hair was tangle-free, and with a playful grin, she decided to plait it for him, her movements fluid and graceful. Chewie returned and contentedly settled himself on Y/N's lap as she worked. With each passing moment, the bond between them deepened. She finished the braid and took one of her hairbands from her wrist, twirling the hair into a bun and securing it with a tie, her fingers brushing against his skin in a way that sent delightful shivers down his spine.
"There we go. You’re so pretty," she cooed in his direction, her voice dripping with affection. The satisfied hum that escaped his lips was music to her ears, and the smile that lit up his face made her heart flutter. Now that his hair was styled, she suggested, "How about we watch a video?" 
Y/N already had a movie in mind—one she knew would perfectly align with Eddie's quirky tastes. Repo Man, a beautifully weird film about cars and extraterrestrials, was just the ticket, especially since her dad had rented it right before her parents went on holiday and it had to be returned soon.
As she sprawled out on the couch, lying back against the cushions, Chewie decided to awkwardly slot himself in the gap between her shoulder and the back cushion, falling asleep almost instantly. However, Y/N was taken aback when Eddie crawled on top of her, resting his head against her chest, a blissful expression plastered on his face. "Your boobs are comfy," he whispered playfully, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. 
She rolled her eyes, a laugh escaping her as she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him closely, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. He sighed contentedly, resting his cheek against her upper chest, watching the film in peace. Minutes passed, and he couldn't help but revel in the feeling of being with her - how safe, how cherished, and how utterly happy he felt. 
Slowly, he lifted his head and turned towards her with a questioning gaze, his heart racing in anticipation. Y/N smiled warmly, raising an eyebrow and waiting for whatever stupid comment he might share. Then he finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "I'm sorry if you get sick too now."
Her hand came up, brushing away a stray strand of hair from his eye, and she murmured softly, "It's okay, big guy. If I get sick, you'll have to take care of me." His heart swelled at her words, and a soft chuckle slipped past his lips. "I promise I'll be half as whiny as you." 
The moment felt charged, and he found himself unable to hold back. "That's okay. You could be twice as whiny, and I would still love you."
The blush that crept onto Y/N's cheeks illuminated the space between them, and when she pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, murmuring, "I love you too," he knew he hadn't imagined the butterflies fluttering in his stomach.
At first, he had mistaken that feeling for the side effects of being under the weather, but no, this was different; this was pure bliss. Pure joy. This was love, unfurling gently like petals in spring.
Settling back down, he gave her collarbone a light peck, lost in the comfort of her warmth. Soon, he drifted off into a serene slumber, completely oblivious to the world around him. He didn't notice the way the corners of her lips curled upwards as she glanced down at him, her heart swelling with affection at the sight of his peaceful expression, knowing that these moments were precious.
Chewie was the first to wake, his tiny paws padding across the soft fabric of the couch as he stood and wandered over Eddie's back. Despite the fact that the puppy barely weighed anything, Eddie stirred at the gentle pressure, groaning as he opened his eyes to find Chewie standing over him with an expectant look. Eddie tried to stay nestled against Y/N, but he knew he had to shift so she could get out from under him. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he shifted awkwardly, failing to see how entertained she was as she watched him struggle to lift himself out of grogginess.
With a gentle kiss to his temple, a silent apology lingering in the air, Y/N slid out of the cosy groove they’d created on the couch. She scooped up her feisty little pup just before he could unleash a series of enthusiastic yaps that would shatter the peace. Chewie was set down, and off he dashed, zooming around the room in wild pursuit of his favourite chew toy, a little bundle of energy that could brighten anyone’s day.
Y/N glanced back at Eddie, and she couldn’t help but melt. There he was, adorably tousled with bleary eyes struggling to stay open, looking like he’d just rolled out of a dream. The sleepy blush dusting his cheeks added to his charm as he yawned and stretched, the blanket slipping off his shoulders like a forgotten shawl. 
His shirt had hiked up a bit, revealing a tantalising sliver of bare stomach, and for just a moment, she found herself completely mesmerised. Eddie caught her admiration and arched a brow playfully, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What’s up?” he asked, his tone light and playful. 
Y/N shook herself from her daze, cheeks warming as she tried to divert her gaze. “Oh, nothing. Just, um... nothing,” she stammered, the words tumbling out in a fluster.
“You don’t sound very convincing,” he quipped, his fingers lacing around her hand, sending sparks of warmth racing up her arm.
Despite her best efforts to fight it, a blush crept onto Y/N's cheeks, and she quickly realised she was battling a losing game. Maybe it was time to surrender and let her cheeks flush naturally. "You look really cute right now," she admitted shyly, her heart fluttering as the heat radiated from her face like the first rays of morning sunshine.
Eddie's grin widened, revealing his adorable dimples, his eyes sparkling with mischief and delight that felt like the sweetest kind of magic. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” he remarked casually, his gaze appreciatively tracing over her as she bent down to toss Chewie’s toy across the room. The sight of her, all playful and carefree, sent warmth blossoming in his chest, chasing away the remnants of sleep that still clung to him like a stubborn shadow. Even though he felt a bit under the weather, watching her was like a dose of sunshine that brightened his spirit.
“So,” Y/N began softly, her voice tender like a soft lullaby after launching the toy into the next room, giving them a moment of peace, “How are you feeling now? Do you want anything?”
Chewie strutted back, triumphantly dropping his toy at Eddie's feet, his tail wagging like a tiny flag of victory, all too proud of his fetch prowess.
“Well...” Eddie mused, scratching the back of his neck in that adorably awkward way that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat. “My head is still pounding a bit, and my throat feels like sandpaper, but hey, I’m not dizzy anymore.” 
Moments later, she returned with a tall glass of cold water, sunlight glistening on the droplets as if it were a little sparkling treasure. She felt her breath catch at the grateful smile that spread across his face - infectious and warm - and it lit up his features like the brightest star in the night sky. 
“How did the Hellfire boys take it?”
“Like champs,” she replied, brushing a stray hair from his cheek and tucking it gently behind his ear, her fingers lingering a moment longer than necessary. “Mike was a bit grumpy, but when is that boy ever in a good mood? Gareth, Jeff, and Nate were their usual gracious selves. Lucas had basketball practice anyway.”
“And Henderson?” Eddie enquired, a smirk spreading across his face, the corner of his mouth lifting mischievously.
“Dustin was too busy having a blast making fun of us. Well, mostly me, but you were the reason.”
“Me?” Eddie feigned disbelief, laughter bubbling up in his chest, his voice rich and melodic. “I wasn’t even there.”
“Nope, but it was still your fault,” she teased, giving his arm a light smack, her expression animated as if to say that he was the entire reason for her playful antics. “If you weren’t so... you, I wouldn’t be the target of all this.”
Earlier, they had exchanged those sweet, vulnerable ‘I love you’s’. They are words that could be perceived as platonic in some lights, but the way they felt in this moment was undeniably more intimate, like a secret meant just for them. This wasn’t platonic. He knew that now.
“You like me,” Eddie stated matter-of-factly, his big brown eyes locking onto hers, full of sincerity and playful challenge, as if he was just waiting for her confirmation.
For a heartbeat, she simply stared, her heart racing like a wild drum. Then, leaning forward, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips, her hand cradling his face tenderly, warmth flooding between them in a wave that swept all thoughts away. It was just a fleeting, sweet kiss, yet it conveyed everything they needed to say - an unspoken promise of affection and connection.
“I’m definitely going to catch your cold now,” she teased, pulling back with a playful pout, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“Swapping saliva? Yeah, you're skipping school tomorrow,” he joked, his voice muffled as he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, a warm sensation enveloping them both.
A shiver of delight ran through her at the tickling sensation, a giggle escaping her lips as he playfully nipped at her skin. “Shut up,” she laughed, attempting to push him away, but he just chuckled, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her closer. 
Together they snuggled into the couch, enveloped in a blissful cocoon of warmth and comfort that seemed to stretch on forever, like a moment frozen in time. "Can we just stay here and never move?" he murmured, his voice soft and dreamy.
"Yeah, for as long as you want," she replied, knowing in her heart that what she said wasn't exactly true. Chewie would need to go up the garden soon, but the sentiment was there, wrapping around them like a warm blanket.
Eddie squeezed her slightly, enjoying the closeness, as they lay there basking in each other's presence. Eventually, he felt himself begin to nod off once more, and it didn't take much persuading before he surrendered to sleep, cuddled tightly against Y/N, her sweet scent enveloping him in an ethereal warmth that allowed him to drift off quickly.
"Achoo!" He woke up with a start, bursting into laughter at the sound of her sneeze. She glared at him playfully, and it only made him laugh even more. "I hate you," she muttered, burying his face back in her chest, wrapping her arms around him protectively.
"Nah, you love me," he countered, his words muffled by her shirt but dripping with playful confidence.
Rolling her eyes, she replied teasingly, "Whatever helps you sleep at night." His response was still muffled, but she could catch something along the lines of 'You know you love it' with a dopey grin plastered on his face. In that moment, there was no denying it. She couldn't even try, because deep down, every teasing word felt like a soft confession—one that was only meant for them to share in this cosy little world they had built together.
*Click here for my masterlist*
Wanna be added to a taglist? Either comment on this post or send me a message!
Taglist: @emxxblog
Tumblr media
162 notes · View notes
utilitycaster · 1 day ago
Note
I follow someone who peaced out of C3 like a month ago, and while she still throws out the occasional post about it, despite mostly running on ✨vibes✨ since pre-Predathos fight. one of her latest takes caught my attention. The wording was a little messy, but the core argument seemed like it might have a point. She’s saying the biggest issue with the story is a lack of internal logic, which makes the characters feel kind of disconnected from their own world and setting. Her main example was the Schism, like, the general idea that the Titans were bad news for mortals should be widely accepted, and they’re dead so they’re not coming back even if the gods leave. She also argues that the idea that the gods would always choose each other over mortals isn’t really backed up by history. Basically, she thinks Bells Hells ignore some of the fundamental structures of modern religion in Exandria, which in turn makes a lot of their arguments about the gods fall apart.
So I guess I’m wondering does it seem like there’s a lack of internal logic to you? C3 is my first campaign, so I’ve been piecing together older lore as I go, and I can’t tell if this is a niche take or if there’s some bigger context I’m missing.
Yes. Or rather, I have a couple of different guesses as to what happened. In short: I think that either Matt wanted to set up a big dilemma and failed to do the worldbuilding to really support it textually; he didn't have a clear vision of what this would be at all (HUGE fucking mistake, like, actually concerning me re: the potential of a 4th campaign level of mistake and I hope it's not that); or, alternately, and honestly right now my guess is that this was the case, he straight up did not think the characters would be such selfish dickbags and thought going in that this would be a clear "we have to stop Predathos" and intended the familial connections within the Vanguard and the scene in Hearthdell to be added nuance to provide some understanding of the Vanguard not as simply mindless evil monsters but people who have genuine grievances that have been exploited by predatory cult leaders, and was not prepared for a campaign where the party immediately took the Vanguard's side.
Religion in Exandria has never been super formalized or organized. Some of this is, of course, that you don't have to like, convert or even attend services if you have a relationship with a god. But as a result, it means that any exploration of religion as hegemonic falls apart. I am not saying religion needs to fit the regular daily or weekly practices many people irl have (depending on one's levels of observance), and those characters whose powers canonically involve a deity often do observe either restrictions (Caduceus's vegetarianism) or have some form of meditative personal worship, but we never see like, a system of worship outside of Vasselheim, and Vasselheim lacks the powers that the real-world pope has (let alone the medieval era pope). Tuldus was forced by his family to pray, but it's never depicted as part of How All Worshipers of That God are expected to behave. This is really the crux of a lot of problems with this campaign - people keep taking very individualized issues - which are real, but individual - and treating them as a sign of widespread oppression that simply isn't backed up by the text. In fact, the biggest case of widespread religiously-involved oppression is the Empire going after worshipers of illegal Prime Deities (as we see with the Schuesters - the parents are arrested, leaving their young children to fend for themselves) - and the biggest case of widespread proselytizing and missionary work is from the canonically theocratic (and ruled by one person for over a millennium) Kryn Dynasty, which, hilariously, might end up even more powerful given that the Luxon - the source of their religion, their philosophy and cultural practices, and their arcane prowess - has been brought up as relevant to the gods-become-mortal plan by the Raven Queen and seems to not be under any threat from Predathos, and might even get more powerful. Vasselheim's colonial efforts, while certainly not defensible, are small potatoes.
The player character's grievances against the gods all boil down to "I prayed to the gods and they didn't make my life better" while failing to consider that a combination of genuinely wild specific personal circumstances (being Ruidusborn; being the child of an elemental-worship cult with terrible instincts and later running a heist on a Vanguard collaborator; being a shadow sorcerer who caught the eye of an evil Vecna-worshipping wizard in need of a host body) are the root cause. It's like. If your parents kick you out for being gay, that's homophobia, but if your parents are part of a cult that blows itself up and you are orphaned as a result that is not systemic oppression, that is a very specific cult and shitty parents. So that fails to really ground them in the setting. Compare to campaign 2, where Caleb wants to ensure the Volstrucker program is brought to light and eliminated - as he says, no more children on the pyre - vs. here, where arguably Laudna and Ashton are opening the door to far more unregulated cult/evil necromancy shenanigans now entirely unmitigated by the gods. At least Imogen will probably end the Ruidusborn I guess, as a side effect completely unrelated to her actual goals (which are, frankly, unclear) In a campaign that talks about tethers, the characters seem untethered to anything - institution, place, even for the most part family, and only loosely to each other, and it shows in their lack of care.
The other part is that yeah, a lot of things that were given to the Mighty Nein and Vox Machina as "things people would know" aren't given to Bells Hells. Now this could have a mechanical basis, namely, no one has much of a formal education and most of them are also not terribly intelligent on their own. However, it does feel baffling that they can't recognize holy symbols, or don't know the story of the titans at the time of the Schism (which...setting aside the many issues with the concept of "history is written by the victors" which is both inconsistently true in the first place and is frequently used in an anti-intellectual manner to undermine historical study that points out such things as historical racism; just because history might be inaccurate that does not mean that wild speculation otherwise is necessarily true, especially since we do know from EXU Calamity that titans did, indeed, intend to side with the Betrayers against mortals at the start of the Calamity). It furthers this feeling, after Vox Machina being relatively educated even in a story that was not as worldbuilding-focused, and the Mighty Nein having multiple research-oriented characters and a party deeply rooted in a rich world, that Bells Hells feel off and adrift and ignorant, especially since they don't even seem to remember history they lived through such as the Apex War.
Honestly, what I think is most interesting actually is that we don't ever get anyone express a motivation based on structural oppression in-game. Ludinus never got over his parents dying in a war where the options for the Prime Deities were leave mortals to die or fight the Betrayers, knowing there will be devastating casualties, but in setting up his elaborate plot he murdered countless people, destroyed through his communing with Predathos the first rebuilt elven society in Western Wildemount, and participated in actual structural oppression within the Dwendalian empire for literal centuries; he cared not for any widespread liberation and would remain on top, as an archmage, after this imagined revolution, which makes it not much of a revolution worth having. Liliana's problems were caused by Predathos, and many of the Vanguard we see are Ruidusborn. The only other Vanguard we really get to talk to are Bor'Dor, who was oppressed on the basis of his religion and preyed upon by the cult; Tuldus, who see above; and various Paragon's Call members who are mostly just following orders and getting paid. And Bells Hells, when they have the audience of Vasselheim and the rest of the world - a golden opportunity to call out the colonialism - fail to bring up Hearthdell.
In the end, the motivations are all personal pain - in many cases, inflicted, in fact, by Predathos and not the gods - or vengeance. I honestly don't know if the narrative is trying to claim there is something deeper, or if it's simply some of the characters and a chunk of the least knowledgeable fans, but yes, the worldbuilding fails to support a morally complex narrative. It fails to debunk that which was established earlier (and indeed makes the fall of Aeor far more sympathetic than when it was introduced during Campaign 2) and fails to establish any widespread harm the gods did that wasn't the result of someone threatening to kill them. I do not think one can meaningfully debate with someone who puts a boot on your throat, presses down, and claims you're the oppressor when you fight back, nor with someone who argues along those lines, and that's all that fans and Bells Hells have ever done. And yeah we might actually make a world with a formalized hegemonic religion as a result of Bells Hells' actions; it just will be a different god, underscoring that this is either motivated by people who don't know what the fuck is going on; or by vengeance rather than justice.
138 notes · View notes
secretlysamcro · 1 day ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, violence, explicit language & possible spoilers. If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.
Request: “The reader loses her job and needs money to pay her mothers medical bills, she goes to see Lyla who is her friend at diosa, Lyla feels awful about the situation speaks to Opie about offering you a job at diosa to pay for the bills and he speaks to the sons about it, They let her work there and Lyla shows her the ropes of the place, after a week the sons come for a for a visit after a long day to relax and let’s just say that the reader catches jaxs eye and requests to spend the night with her. (he and Tara aren’t together)”
Backstory: Desperate to cover your mother’s medical bills, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make ends meet. Even if that means stepping into the world of escorting. Resulting in one of the Sons, taking a particular liking to you.
“Shit” you curse as you notice another letter has been slipped through the mail slot, your mother not bothering to pick it up, which can only mean one thing. More medical bills. It’s been over two weeks since you lost your job, and no matter how hard you’ve been trying, nowhere is hiring and it’s starting to feel impossible. Soon enough you’ll be unable to help cover your mother’s bills, and when that happens…everything falls apart.
Adding the letter to the growing stack of unopened envelopes, you make your way up to your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto the bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling as your mind races, scrambling for your next move having no idea what to apply for or where to even start. That’s when your friend Lyla pops into your head.
Y:N: Hey Lyla is it ok if I drop in and see you at Diosa tomorrow? I might need some help.
You and Lyla had known each other for a while now, but ever since she took over at Diosa, your friendship had faded slightly. Not because either of you didn’t care, but because life got in the way. You had your mom to worry about, and she had Diosa to run. You let out a faint laugh as you wonder why you never thought sooner to see if Lyla had a job for you, but then again working somewhere like Diosa would be completely new territory.
Lyla: Hi y/n. Sure thing I have 2 help Ope in the morning but will b in after 12. Hope everything is ok?
You stand up, getting undressed for your shower, catching your reflection in the mirror. Your hands trailing over your body as a flood of thoughts race through your mind. Can I even do this? Can I really be an escort? You tilt your head, studying yourself, doubt lingering over you but so does determination.
Tumblr media
You step up to the doors, hesitating ever so slightly. You’ve driven past this place hundreds of times but stepping inside, is something you never even considered. You take a deep breath as you push the door open and take your first step inside.
Stepping into Diosa Norte for the first time, you stop to take in your surroundings. Women moving effortlessly through the room, leading men upstairs, their different conversations causing a low hum. The environment is some what warm and inviting, definitely different to what you had expected.
“Hey, can I help you?” A dark haired man approaches you, a phone pressed to his ear, but his conversation on pause to acknowledge you. His arms have intricate tattoos placed on them.
“Hi, I’m uh… looking for Lyla?” You say, glancing around the room before landing your eyes back onto him.
“Lyla? Yeah, she had some things to take care of, you know, but she should be back in a minute. Go ahead, take a seat” he looks at his watch before gesturing you towards a very comfy looking sofa.
“Thanks” you reply, offering a polite smile.
The man returns to his call. “Jax, you know what your Moms like if she said…” his voice fading as he walks deeper into Diosa.
As your eyes scan the ‘XXX’ menu in front of you, your attention is diverted when you hear someone calling your name.“y/n? hey!” Lyla greets you with a warm smile as she steps inside. Approaching you for a hug. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long” her tone light as she rubs your shoulder in a sympathetic way. “Let’s go upstairs” she says, leading you to the staircase.
You follow her, as you get to the top of the stairs you cant help but hear the sound of muffled moans accompanied by laughter and the slight creak of bed springs from behind the closed doors. You inhale a large breath as the smallest bit of uncertainty creeps in. Is this really where you belong? Lyla looks over her shoulder, catching the slight uncomfortableness written over your face. “Yeah, I never said it was any quieter up here” she laughs, as she opens the office door in front of you both.
She shuts the door behind you, the sound of pleasure fading away into silence. The rooms feels quieter as the weight of your situation hangs in the air. Lyla leans back against the desk, her stare sharp as she looks towards you.
“Come on then, what’s up?” She asks casually, a hint of concern underneath. She could tell from your text that something is wrong. She knows a brief history about your mother and her medical issues. She knows things have been rough these past few years so she’s already assumed it’s something to do with that.
“Where do I even begin?” You say with a shaky laugh, your throat tightening as you try to hold back the tears.
Lyla watches you closely, sensing the weight of your situation and the vulnerability you’re trying to keep hidden. You take a deep breath, the tears settling for just a moment as you begin to explain.
You tell her everything, a few tears spilled in between. You tell her all about your mother’s mounting medical bills, the ones you can’t keep up with no matter how hard you try. Losing your job, making it even harder. You tell her how it feels like the world is on your shoulders and there’s no way out.
“I just… I don’t know who else to turn to…” you say quitley. ”…are you hiring here?” You look towards your feet, knowing Lyla knows this isn’t your usual scene.
Her face immediately softens, stepping closer, the concern in her face evident. “I’m so sorry” her words are gentle yet reassuring. She knows what it’s like to be stuck, backed in a corner with no way out.
“I’d need to talk to Jax and Nero, I can’t just hire on the spot, it’s a process, but I’ll do everything I can to help” Her words aren’t the solution you’re looking for, but you can only try…right?
“Look, keep looking around just incase but I’ll talk to Ope tonight, I’m sure I can get him to talk to Jax… okay?” She holds your hand now. Her touch sincere.
“Thanks Lyla” you squeeze her hand, truly thanking her, this really could be your last life line.
Tumblr media
“You okay babe?” Opies voice is soft but filled with concern as he sits at the edge of the bed, watching as Lyla enters the room. She exhales slowly, her mind still caught up in y/n’s situation. She gets comfy as she straddles onto Opie, her voice steady but tinged with worry as she starts to explain.
“It’s y/n, she’s struggling. Her mom’s bills are piling up, she's lost her job it’s just a lot for her right now you know…” her expression filled with empathy for her friend.
After a long pause, hesitantly she speaks up. “Do you think Jax could help? Maybe hire her?” She doesn’t want to sound too desperate, she knows Opie and the club already have a lot on their plate.
Opie closes his eyes softly, considering the question. “I’ll talk to Jax, but it’s not up to me” he responds “you think she could handle that?”. Lyla nods slowly, knowing you’ll do whatever it takes. She appreciates his honestly, hoping there’s a slight chance Jax and Nero will agree.
Tumblr media
Jax is taking in the fresh air, enjoying a rare moment of quiet before Opie walks up, flipping open his lighter and sparking a cigarette. He takes a long drag before speaking.
“Lyla’s got this friend, names y/n” his tone starting casual. “She’s been dealin’ with a lot, moneys tight and her mom’s not doing too good. She's trying but it ain’t easy, brother”.
Jax takes the cigarette from Opie's hand, before inhaling himself he mutters “you tellin' me this for a reason?” Knowing Opie isn’t one to bring up something unless it mattered.
Opie takes a deep breath. “Lyla's been on my ass about helping her out. Figured I’d ask before she chews my ear off”
Jax smirks “and what can I do about it?” He passes the cigarette back to Opie.
“You got any jobs open at Diosa?” His eyes lay on the ground as he takes another drag.
Jax tilts his head, considering the idea “Lyla think she’d be a good fit?”
“Lyla thinks she just needs a break” he lets out a dry chuckle. “Nice set of tits though” He adds, continuing to laugh.
Jax rubs his jaw, thinking it over. “I’ll talk to Nero, see what we can do” he finally says. “Looking at another woman’s tits” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue in a mocked disapproving tone.
“Appreciate it” Opie nods, flicking his cigarette away.
“No promises” Jax insists, as they head back into the clubhouse.
Tumblr media
Jax pulls up to his mom’s house, turning off the engine before stepping inside. Gemma and Nero are standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand. He leans down behind his Mom, pressing a kiss to her head.
“Hey ma” he says softly.
“Hey baby” Gemma says raising her hand to soothe his face.
Moving over to Nero, he pats him on the shoulder as he passes by, taking a seat at the table. “Wassup homes?” He smirks.
“You tell me mano” he says, watching Jax over the rim of his cup. “You look like you about to drop some shit in my lap”.
Jax exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “need a favor” he smirks just a little. “Lylas got a friend. Girls in a tight spot, needs money to help her mom or some shit. Looking for a bit of work. Lyla thinks she might be a good fit at Diosa” he waits for Neros response.
Nero takes a seat, leaning back in the chair. “She got experience?”.
Jax rolls his shoulders, “not sure” he admits. “I don’t have time to meet her myself, clubs got me running shit all over. Think you can handle it?”.
Nero studies Jax, making his own mind up. “And you trust Lyla’s judgment on this?”
“Lyla knows what she’s doing when it comes to the talent, and if she’s not cut out for it, no hard feelings send her packing” Jax smiles “I trust your judgement too” he fiddles with the toothpick in his mouth.
Nero nods, a small breath leaving his nose, like he’s already regretting his decision. He nods anyway “Have her come by tomorrow, I’ll check her out”
“Thank you brother” Jax responds as Nero shakes his head with a chuckle.
“Yeah, yeah” he waves his hand “just don’t make a habit out of it, Diosa ain’t a damn charity”
Jax’s pushes his chair backwards, preparing to stand up. “Tell that to the girls paying your bills”.
Nero just laughs, shaking his head as Jax approaches his Mom. They exchange a few quick words before he leaves her with another kiss, signalling a small nod to Nero and then leaving, back into his own world of chaos.
Tumblr media
As you walk into Diosa, your heart is racing, even more than the first time. Knowing you’re actually here to get the ball rolling. The scent of perfume and something sweet fills the air as you try to push your nerves down, the anxiety building in your chest.
Lyla spots you almost immediately, as she leans casually against the bar. “Hey girl, you ready to meet Nero?” Her eyes sparkling with reassurance.
“Hey” you say in response, swallowing your nerves and nodding as you followed her over to where Nero was stood. He was leaning against a wall near the back of the reception room, arms crossed scanning the place with calm authority. That’s when you realise he’s the same guy from the other day who you spoke to when you had first walked in.
As you got closer, Nero’s eyes flickered to you, a small hint of recognition lighting them up. “You… were here the other day right? Waiting for Lyla” you took a steady breath before speaking.
“Yeah that was me…I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m willing to learn, anything and I’m down” you practically plead.
Nero doesn’t respond straight away, he looks you up and down his expression unreadable. Finally he speaks. “Experience matters here mama…” his eyes soften ”…but having Lyla vouch for you? That means a lot… I’ll give you a shot. You got a week to prove to me how bad you want this… think of it as a you know, a sort of trial run” his eyes smile but his mouth doesn’t move.
“Lyla will show you the ropes and shit” he goes to walk off but turns round suddenly “it ain’t all about sex though mama, you remember that. Some of these men, want connection” he flickers his fingers in the air mimicking fireworks.
You smile at Nero, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ he gives the smallest nod before turning back to his business, already moving on from the conversation. Lyla rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you got this, okay?” she says as she squeezes you slightly.
Lyla walks you through the dimly lit halls, gesturing to the different rooms as she explains what (or who) goes down in each. “I’ll show you how things work, what the guys expect, what to look out for and all that stuff” and that’s exactly what she does, no sugar coating it either.
“Before we go any further, let’s talk safety” she says, her tone switching to professional. “First rule. You don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever! I don’t care how much money they offer or how sweet they talk, if you ain’t feeling it, you say no, got it?” You nod, her tone coming down a notch.
“Second… protection, always. No exceptions. If they try to argue, tell them to take that shit somewhere else, every room has one of these alarms, use it if you need to. Someone will be up straight away” she then hands you a small bag full of condoms. “We keep these stocked, you’ll never run out. Every top drawer will be full of them, make sure they’re wrapped before anything happens” she pauses tilting her head, “you on birth control?”
You laugh, hesitating for a second, all of this feeling a bit surreal before you answer “yeah”, looking through the condom bag, different brands, sizes, styles and color.
“Good. If you ever need anything, pills, a doctor, whatever just come to me okay, no shame, no judgement” she straightens up, “you’ve got a week, I have faith in you sweetie” she says, giving you a sense of hope.
She gives you another small smile, seeing the nerves flow through you. “You won’t be getting down to the good stuff tonight, there’s a room just down there, clothes shoes and everything you’ll need, all different sizes. Find something that suits you, okay?” She says, you’re starting to feel at ease now. “Tonight’s about getting comfortable. We’ll have you mingle a bit, meet some of the girls, chat with the guys keep them happy with conversation while the others handle the rest… how does that sound?” She asks, leaning against the door frame, noting that you don’t look as tense as before.
“I think I’m good” you laugh, taking another deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.
“Go on then, go find something to wear” she says with a laugh, pointing you to the room a few doors down.
Despite the nerves that held you back in the beginning, as the days go by you were starting to feel much more comfortable in your skin. It hadn’t been easy, but you were beginning to see just how well you were adapting to this new routine. Everyday felt a little smoother, and even though you had your moments of doubt, they weren’t as regular as before.
At first, everything had been a blur of awkwardness, especially your first client. The nerves were overwhelming and the experience was uncomfortable at best. But after that, something shifted. The second client was easier, all tension gone as soon as you found your hidden confidence. By the third, you realised Nero was right, it wasn’t all about sex, this guy just wanted to be listened too, be held as he cried about the dramas he was having with his wife. It was pretty sad actually.
Tonight, as the last day of your week, it was your chance to prove to Nero and the others that you were ready and that you wanted to stick around. There would be no turning back after today.
Tumblr media
Jax stepped into Diosa with the rest of the club. It had been a long day, the kind of day that made you want to shut everything else out a lose yourself for a while. Diosa being the perfect place to do that. No questions asked, no drama, just the freedom to let off some pent up steam.
Jax slid onto one of the bar stools, catching the eye of Lyla behind the bar. He gave her a nod, and she waved back. His attention is shifting around the room as the rest of the guys settled in. His eyes finding you immediately.
You’re leant against the furthest side of the bar talking with a few of the other girls you had made friends with this past week. His gaze lingered, drawn to you without even realising why. He leant back on his stool trying to shake the feeling off, it’s a rare thing for him to feel something so quick for a woman he barely knew.
Nero, moving into the stool beside him. “I see you eyeing up the new girl” he laughs, waving one of the other girls attention for a drink.
Jax doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching as you laugh and engage in conversation. He couldn’t explain it but he felt drawn to you. “She new?” He questions.
Nero chuckles “you serious?” His eyebrow twitches “that’s y/n, the one you wanted to help out….” He says shaking his head.
Jax let out a dry laugh, rubbing his face “shit… that’s her?” He remembers the conversation he had with Opie, about Lylas friend needing help, but with him being too wrapped up in club shit he never had the time to actually sit down and meet her himself, passing the task onto Nero, that is until tonight.
Nero's grin grows wider “No shit mano, that’s your employee though can’t keep staring at her like you’re about to eat her alive”
Jax laughs, a yearning look in his eyes. “let’s call it quality control”.
Nero, shaking his head “sure, sure, but you might wanna think twice about sleeping with your workers” he raises his eyebrows.
Jax’s smirk faded just a little as he looks over to you once more, a whole new set of thoughts running through his mind. “Wish me luck” he says, standing from the seat and patting Nero on the back.
“That boy ain’t ever gonna learn” Nero muttered as he watched Jax make his way towards you.
Both you and Lyla are unaware of his approach. He took a moment, sweeping over you, trying to read you. You looked comfortable enough, but he could sense something slight in your posture, the way you carried yourself like you were still deciding if you belonged here.
Lyla clocks him first, smirking as she makes eye contact just over your shoulder. “Look who finally decides to show up, huh” she teases lightly. “y/n, meet Jax Teller. The other half of Diosa” she smiles.
Tumblr media
For the first time, your eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the noise of Diosa fades into the background. There was something there. A pull neither of you could explain.
You held his stare, refusing to shrink under the weight of it. Instead, you offer a tender smile. “I just wanted to say... thank you...you know for the opportunity” your words stammering slightly as you try to hold his gaze.
A slow smirk grew from the corners of Jax’s mouth, something unreadable you noticed in his eyes. “No problem...good to finally put a face to the name” He gives you a small nod.
Opie walks up, wrapping his arms around Lyla from behind, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it was made her blush and smile. Opie nodded at you with a friendly smile “Hey y/n”.
He then slaps Jax on the shoulder. “Catch you later brother” Jax smirks in response, knowing exactly what their about to do. With that, Opie and Lyla excuse themselves from the conversation, leaving you and Jax alone, the sudden quiet between you, forcing a conversation.
Jax leans against the bar, getting closer to you now. “So...” he began, his tone smooth and casual “How’s your first few days been?” an edge of curiosity behind his tone.
You turn your whole body to face him now, he takes in what you’re wearing. A lacy black two piece hugging your body, with a long robe, feathers hanging off at the arm sleeves and its base veil, its soft fabric catching the light as you settle in your seat.
“It was... a lot to take in, but I...” you stop mid sentence as you realised what you’d just said, the unintentional innuendo slipping out from your mouth. Jax’s smile beaming, clearly catching on.
“Not... like that” you say quickly, laughing through your embarrassment. "not that it wasnt...but...I'm just gonna stop talking now…" you try to save yourself
Jax’s laugh grows louder, his shoulders dancing up and down with amusement. "It's okay, you ain’t gotta explain yourself” he teased, sensing how flustered you just got.
“So you busy tonight or...” he questions wondering how long he has left to talk to you.
Running your finger over the rim of your glass before drinking it, you begin to respond “Depends…if someone asks for me, then yes, if not then no, I'll just be down here floating around” You let your eyes trace over Jax’s form, a deliberate smile creeping onto your face.
“What about you?…” you ask, treading lightly, your tone low but teasing. “…you got a favorite girl here or...”
Jax’s eyes light up ever so slightly as a grin spreads across his face at your question. He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “I don’t mix business with pleasure” he says softly, as if he’s not entirely letting his guard down, not wanting to give away his mission of the night.
You let out a laugh, clearly not buying his answer. Before you go to question how he eases his tension, a client walks in. You glance at Jax with a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “See ya around…boss” you say, your tone playful, before making your way over to the man.
Tumblr media
His gaze sharpens, the faintest hint of jealousy creeping in as he watches you sway towards the new comer. He continues watching intently as your figure moves, the sheer fabric of the robe barely concealing you as the feathers caressing the edge of the lower veil trail behind you. A restless twitch stirs just below his belt, his eyes sharpening as he takes you in. His eyes don’t leave the interaction as he watches you welcome the new client into Diosa.
Jax grits his teeth, his grip tightening around his beer as he watches you intently. His eyes narrow when the man moves in too close. Jax can see now that the man is completely intoxicated, swaying and mumbling things that don’t make sense.
You look left and right, clearly getting uncomfortable now, his breath is heavy and he’s pushing too close, not taking the hint.
Jax groans, pushing off from the bar and striding towards the both of you, every muscle in his body tense with readiness.
Tumblr media
“We got a problem?” Jax’s voice is deep, causing the air around them to thicken. Nero, who is currently talking to an employee begins to steal looks almost as if he realises something is off. Chibs doing the same as he’s sitting with a Diosa girl.
You turn to him, thankful of his presence. “He’s too drunk to be in here” you say, looking back at the drunken figure. “I’ve told him hes gotta got but he’s insisting”.
The drunk looks around in your direction “just... s-suck my dick like I asked... you wh...” he hiccups in between words “...you whore”. He sneers, leaning closer again.
Before you can react, Jax is on him. His fist connects with the man’s jaw with a sickening force. He stumbles back, but not for too long. He retaliates, throwing a wild punch that catches Jax in the side of his face. Nero and Chibs appear from nowhere, rushing to break them both apart as the fight escalates.
The others upstairs, completely oblivious, lost in their own worlds of pleasure, as you experience your first down side of working at Diosa.
It doesn’t take long for the dust to settle. Nero throwing the man out, but not before adding a few punches of his own. Jax touches the cut now bleeding from above his eyebrow. His jaw tightens with lingering anger as he notices the blood. Without a word, he turns and walks off into one of the rooms, slamming the door behind him.
Nero gives you a once over, his look full of concern. “You good, Mija?” He rubs your shoulder gently. He’s impressed with how you handled that. No panic, no drama, just calm and collected. Jax though, will be hearing Neros thoughts later.
“Yeah, i’m okay, he was just too much…sorry” you admit, Nero nods in total agreement.
“We’re all about safety mama, don’t apologise. You did the right thing” he lets you know, before walking back over to Chibs.
You hesitate for a moment, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. As the others continue talking, dissecting what had just gone on, you decide to quietly slip away and check on Jax, easing open the door he just slammed shut.
Tumblr media
Jax was sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His once perfected hair now messy giving him more of a rough edge. His knuckles were raw, and a small trickle of blood ran from a cut just above his eyebrow. He exhaled deeply, lost in thought, but second he noticed you, he straightened. His blue eyes locking onto yours.
“You good?” He asks, his voice steady. Scanning you for any sign of distress.
You scoff just a little, “I should be asking you that” you say, walking further into the room, closing the door behind you.
“You could, but I asked first” he smiled, seeing you approach. You roll your eyes in response, feeling the way your chest tightens as his gaze lingered on you. He looked at you as if you were more than a woman he barely knew.
You don’t respond with words, you were too busy grabbing a paper towel from the nightstand and wetting it with some of the bottled water, the sound of soft rustling coming from the towel seems to fill the room as he tracks you with each step you take.
You kneel down in front of him, parting his legs slightly with your own. You were close to him now, a little too close, but neither of you seemed to mind. Your focus mainly on the cut above his eyebrow, his strong scent hovering around you, sweat, leather and smoke tinged with his personal smell. His hands are resting on the bed beside him, as if he was trying to maintain his composure. You could tell he was hurting but he wasn’t one to make a scene of it.
“Hold still” you mumble, as you dab the towel gently against the cut. His body shifting slightly in response to the pain. His eyes never leaving yours, except for the occasional quick glance down at your chest, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off you.
“You always this caring for the guys you barely know?” He asks, his voice playful and almost teasing.
“You always checking out the tits of the person patching you up?” You shoot back with a smirk as you continues to clean the blood away from his face.
He falters for a second, a bit of colour rising up his face but he shakes it off just as fast. “Lyla told Ope about your mom, the bills and everything” he studies your reaction “That’s the only reason you’re here? Wanting the job?”
You finish cleaning the cut, then press your hands into his thighs as you push yourself up, the warmth of his skin seeping through his jeans. His eyes linger downwards, watching the way your hands move against him. “I’m not exactly here for the exercise” you laugh, but there’s a hint of something guarded in your voice.
He catches the way your shoulders tense slightly, he doesn’t want to push you any further, he tilts his head, taking you in. But he just can’t help himself. “Can I just ask you one more thing?” His voice is softer now, somewhat sympathetic. He doesn’t wait for you to answer “if you get the job and make enough money, will you quit?”
You pause slightly, giving him a small shrug “that’s the plan, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to make what I need”
“How much we talkin’?” His expression unreadable.
You shake your head inhaling another deep breath “too much to count” you decide to open up a little “I need five grand by the end of the month” you sigh saying the words out loud making it feel even more impossible to achieve it.
He doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand over his jaw, taking in everything you’ve said. The silence making your chest tighten again, so you decide to end the conversation before it gets even deeper.
“You’re all cleaned up” you say, brushing your hands off against each other as you turn towards the door.
His voice stopping you before you reach the handle “where you going?”
Tumblr media
You look over your shoulder, “back out there, someone’s gotta be there to welcome them, pour drinks and all that” you laugh, confused as to where exactly he thought you would be going.
“What if I don’t want you to leave yet?” His voice dips lower, a look in his eyes as if his mission is about to succeed.
You turn towards him fully, raising your eyebrow just a little. “Then you’d have to do like the rest…and pay for my company” you smile cockily, your words teasing but clear.
He chuckles, clearly impressed by how easily you slip into the role of the confident woman who knows her worth. With a half smile he goes into his pocket, still not breaking the eye contact. He pulls out a thick roll of cash, tossing it onto the bed next to him with casual confidence. There’s no arrogance in the way that he does it, it’s more of a silent agreement, a sign that he’s more than willing to pay if it means spending more time with you. Your pulse quickens, then as if making a decision that could complicate things, you reach and turn the lock.
You take slow steps back towards him, letting your robe slip off your shoulders and pooling behind you, the motion looking effortless. Jax watches on, his tongue flicking over his lips as the anticipation darkens his gaze. Then, you kneel down once again. Undoing the laces of his airforces, slipping them off one by one.
Your fingers press into the arches of his feet, kneading out the tension that resides there. He exhales deeply, the sound rough and full of relief. “Damn” he mutters under his breath, leaning back onto his elbows as he watches you with his hungry eyes.
You smile in response, your eyes matching his. Working your thumbs over a tight spot before your hands start trailing upwards, slowly and deliberately. His breath hitches, as you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. You pull back for a moment, standing up straight and extending your hand to Jax with confidence, almost as if you were daring him to join you. He takes your hand in his. His fingers curling around yours as he stands. You kick off your heels, your height declining a little, as he looks down at you with his dominant presence.
You step closer, reaching for his kutte as you slide it off of his broad shoulders, placing it carefully on the back of the chair behind you. He watches you, not a word leaving his lips as you begin to take control of the situation.
A look of appreciation and desire in his eyes. Up until now, you have never allowed yourself to feel anything for any of the clients you’d been with, whether it was sexual or not. You’d kept them locked away. But with Jax, it's something you can’t ignore.
You slowly pull his crisp white tee over his head, revealing his muscular frame, slick with sweat from the events of today. Your fingers trace the ‘Abel’ tattoo on his chest, and he can feel the curiosity in the way you look at it. “my son” he says quietly, his voice carrying a tenderness you haven't heard from him yet. Your hands move lower, brushing over the rough scars left behind from the stabbings just below his ribs, the same thoughtful expression on your face. Without having to say a single word, he answers you. “prison” he mumbles, his voice almost sounding detached, as if its everyday you meet someone with the same scars.
Tumblr media
You know nothing about Jax on a personal level, but of course you knew of SAMCRO with Lyla being your only real connection to the club, and that’s enough to keep you aware, but from a safe distance.
Over the past few nights, you’ve learned not to ask questions, not to pry into the lives of your clients but to just go with the flow. And right now, that’s exactly what you intend to do.
You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him, your hands picking up where they left off. Gripping the waistband of his jeans, you give them a firm tug. He kicks them off without any hesitation. With a slow and deliberate push, you guide him back until he’s bracing himself against the bed. Climbing on top of him, you move upwards, your hands trailing his thighs. You start by pressing messy, open mouthed kisses along his neck, feeling how his body reacts beneath you.
His breath fastens, his hands coming up to touch you in the middle of your back as your lips trail lower. Turning your attention to his boxers, you kiss him over the fabric, letting the tension build as his eyes lock onto you with raw desire. His hips shift beneath you, betraying his need for more. You slide his boxers down, revealing him full as he springs free from the cloth. Your approving eyes meet his, and the way you look at him has him swallowing hard.
Your eyes examine him with admiration, taking in every detail like his dick has been sculpted just for you. He stands thick and ready, his precum catching the light, shimmering under the soft glow from above. Every pulse and twitch letting you know just how ready he is. The moment your lips wrap around him, he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath you. His hands move, not knowing where to place them fighting the urge to grab hold of you, to guide you deeper. You move your head with a slow and steady rhythm, taking your time before your lips finally meet the sensitive skin at his base. The feeling of his shaven pubes brushing against your upper lip. You take all of him whole and he cant hold back any longer. His fingers grip the back of your head, pulling you in closer, leaving you breathless as you struggle for air.
You grunt, as he releases the pressure, finally allowing you to breathe again. A trail of saliva drips from your mouth, falling back onto him. “Fuuuuck” he mutters, his body instinctively arching towards you. You let out a teasing laugh, a proud smile curling on your lips, pleased with yourself for taking him all in at once.
“Come here” he instructs, his voice low and seductive. Sitting up, he gently guides you closer. His fingers curling around your chin as he pulls you into him. His lips crash against yours, both urgent and demanding. He can taste himself lingering on your tongue. Each movement driving you wild, the sensation making your pussy salivate as it begins to drip for him.
Jax looks at you, his voice deep. “You got anything?” You point to the top drawer next to the bed in response. He moves quickly, opening it, his hands focused as he searches.
You watch him closely, your breath catching in your throat at he rolls it down with care, his every movement precise, the tension thickening with every passing second.
As soon as he finishes, he’s on you, grabbing you with a force that takes you by surprise. He lays you down on your back, his body pressing against yours. He can feel the wetness on his thigh as he uses it to guide your legs apart.
“you look so fuckable right now” he says, leaning back on his knees as he prepares to enter. He teases you gently, stroking his cock as he taps it against your wanting clit. Your jaw clenches with eagerness, “Fuck me then”. Jax did not need to be told twice.
He slowly enters you, as you let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation of fullness he’s causing. There's a lot of him to take in. “you good?” he laughs, checking in with you before he continues. When you nod, he increases his pace, his movements becoming more powerful.
Tumblr media
You try to form words, to let Jax know he’s doing a good job, but you’re unable to form any, only short breathy pants and moans. Jax has a smug look on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you.
“You usually fuck your boss?” he asks, his voice authoritative as he continues to drive into you, his blonde hair grazing against your ear as he nestles his head into your neck.
You grab the back of his head, pulling it so that you make eye contact “Only if they seem worth it” you huff in response.
Jax cant help but laugh, even more turned on by your response. He quickly pulls out, only to turn you around guiding you onto your stomach, facedown. The audacity in your words fuelling his assertiveness. He grabs you by the waist, taking hold of you possessively, firmly forcing you to arch your back into a submissive position. “It’s like that is it? darlin’” his sudden aggression making you even wetter than you once were.
Your face is pressed into the pillow, but you manage to look slightly to the left, sneaking glances at him over your shoulder. His messy hair falls across his face as you watch his eyes roam your body, his expression dark.
He enters you again quickly, watching intensely as your ass crashes against his pelvic bone, sending waves through your skin. His hand reaches over pushing you down further into the pillow, the sound of your bodies meeting sounding like a round of applause.
Together, you move in perfect sync, your bodies working together to bring one another closer towards the edge. The room echoes with a mix of moans and gasps, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure you’re both currently experiencing.
Your hands reach back, spreading your cheeks giving Jax a newer sensation as he pounds in and out of you, he almost cant believe his eyes, how vulnerable you’re being for him. “Good girl” he groans, the slight difference in position making your walls tighten around him.
Jax, the man of many positions, now lies beneath you, the roles reversed. He can’t take his eyes off you. You’re the one in control once again. There’s a way about how he’s looking at you, taking in every moment unable to take his eyes off you. He’s lost in you, the way you look, the way you move, fucking beautiful - inside and out.
You hover above him, just out of reach, teasing him and keeping him wanting more. His hands grip at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, but you manage to stay in control. Loving the way his breath becomes rough with anticipation. Without warning, you take him in again, slamming down hard and deep.
Another moan leaving his mouth, his whole body tense again as the pleasure takes over. Your fingers glide over his body, as you ride the aftershocks surging through him.
Your hands are at his neck now, your body shielding his. He moves his hands, grabbing you by the ass with one and the other cradling your head in place, keeping you where he needs you, by his actions you can tell he’s used to being in control and taking what he wants.
He lifts his knees up gaining his own balance, his feet digging into the bed before moving his hips furiously underneath you, curving through your walls, each thrust forcing a gasp from your mouth.
“Ja- Jax…fuck…I’m gonna” you confess, unable to actually get the words out.
He smiles at your confession, his grip firm as he continues to hold you in place. Pressing desperate kisses onto your open mouth. “That’s…what I like… to hear” he mumbles, his words getting lost as you whimper into him.
His thrusts are getting slower, more sporadic. He’s close, and he can tell by the way your body trembles above him that you are too. His grip shifts once more. The hand placed on your ass, is now pushing firmly against your lower back, forcing him deeper. The pressuare sends you spiralling, you cry out as your body convulses around him, causing his cock to pump out cum.
He’s panting heavily along with you, his head buried onto your shoulder, his eyes wincing in pleasure. “y/n…fuc-” he pleads into your ear.
You don’t hear him of course you’re too busy wrapped up in your own climax. Your fists balling at the sheets beneath you, your head finding solace in the crevice of Jax’s shoulder. He releases the tension in his body as he throws his head back against the pillow, breathing hard with a satisfied smile on his face. He waits for you to come down and join him.
As the last waves of pleasure fade, you lift your head, meeting Jax’s eyes with a breathless laugh. Your bodies still tangled together, the heat dancing off the both of you.
With a slow movement, you slide off him, removing the condom carefully in the process. You tie it off and toss it into the nearby bin before crashing back down beside him.
Both your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you tessellating with satisfaction. Jax turns his head, a full smirk playing at his lips as he watches you, “Think I changed my mind” he admits, lazily resting his hands behind his head.
You raise your brow slightly, your breaths finally in regular rhythm again. “About what?”.
“Think you’re my first favorite” his smirk deepens, as he grabs his cigarettes off the side and lighting one up, the flame flickers, causing a slight glow against his face. You playfully smack his chest before retrieving your scattered clothing and getting them back on.
“Where you goin now?” He questions, a neediness in his voice, but you can tell he’s joking with it.
“What? Did you expect me to stay and cuddle” you respond tying the feathered robe back around your waist.
“Would have been nice” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair before standing up. The cigarette clinging to his lips as he exhales a stream of smoke, taking his time getting dressed as if he had nowhere else to be.
You watch him pull on his clothes, a small curve to your lips. Once he’s finished, you grab his kutte, stepping up behind him and sliding it over his shoulders, putting his pride back where it belonged.
“Thank you” he uttered, adjusting himself. He then spots the rolled up cash on the floor, the same stack he had tossed earlier.
With a lazy bend, he picks it up, handing it to you. Then, without a word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls another roll out, pressing it into your hand. His own hand lingering a little longer than it needed too.
The weight of the cash feels heavier, much more than it should as your fingers tighten around the stacks. A quick mental count tells you it’s close to four thousand, way more than you had expected. You look up at him, your eyes flickering with disbelief.
“Jax?… this is… a lot” you say, shocked but thankful.
Jax shrugs, feeling generous. “It’s a start..,handle what you need to” he says, like it’s nothing.
You stare at the money he had placed in your hand. Between this and what you’d already made this week, you now have enough to cover this months debt, something that less than an hour ago felt impossible.
Jax observes how you accept his help, with a slight tilt of his head he says “See you Monday night” throwing you a wink before you could even say thank you out loud, strolling out like he didn’t just change everything.
Nero glances up as Jax walks over, a knowing look in his eyes. “So… how’d your test run go?”
Jax can’t help but grin in response, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray upon the bar. “She’s got the job” he tells Nero confidently, no doubt about it.
Nero chuckles, a low sound of understanding as he pats Jax on the back “didn’t take you long to make up your mind, eh ese?”
Jax laughs, a low but genuine sound. “What can I say?” he says, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture, his shoulders lifting with the movement. “I’m a simple man” the familiar smirk spread across his face.
Tumblr media
Photos & gifs are not mine - apart from the one with Jax's booty, had to go find the episode to make that one hehe.
Loved writing this, I know I say this every time lol. Also, sorry it took so long, I initially planned for this to be SO much shorter cause I feel like I may be writing too much? I just get carried away I cant help it lol.
To everyone who's sent a request, I'm not ignoring, I'm just working at them one by one, thank you for ALL! of them I'm excited to do them all, plus you all got some good ideas man I love it!
Jax Teller Masterlist
xoxo secretly samcro
85 notes · View notes
senipsenipsenip · 2 days ago
Text
I’m a little obsessed with the idea of Ford making himself the most involved support network he can for Dipper and Mabel when they go off to college. Like weekly phone calls even if it’s just for five minutes to say “hey how are you you’re not alone I love you”. He knows what it feels like to be isolated, adrift in a new environment. He knows it can be hard to reach out, so he wants to make sure his niblings know he’s always reaching out already should they ever need him.
He makes sure he’s keeping up with what Wendy, Soos, Fiddleford, and the townsfolk are up to so that he can relay it to Dipper and Mabel, which has the (unexpected for Ford but unsurprising to anyone else) side effect of Ford gaining his own network of companions. If the kids are having trouble with their homework he does his best to help, but if it’s some subject he’s not versed in he’s quick to go to his college yearbook and find the name of someone he knew who majored in that field and tells Dipper and Mabel to look them up on the internet because “I hear you can do that now. You can find anyone but Stanley and D.B. Cooper. That’s because your uncle is technically dead and last I saw D.B. Cooper was in the Alibi Dimension.” Dipper reaches out to the alumni sometimes. He becomes sort of pen pals with this old guy who got his film degree at Backupsmore in his forties. The guy’s older than Ford, still works as a professor, and is thrilled to talk with a young, excitable student like Dipper. Mabel reaches out to ANYONE with fashion, dance, music, or any other liberal arts degree. She’s got about 400 LinkedIn connections and a lot of invitations to some family potlucks.
Sometimes even if Ford knows the answers, he still asks Fiddleford to help. It makes Ford happy to visit his friend and hear him proudly explain something that he helped Dipper solve over the phone. Ford tries so hard not to think of a world where this conversation is different, where Fiddleford has clearer eyes and is telling him all about how proud he is watching his Tate grow up.
“No use dwellin’” Fiddleford would say. “Not while we got years ahead.”
And Ford would say “Alright.” And after catching up with his old friend he would excuse himself because it was Friday and the kids would each be expecting a call. He would walk back home and scroll through his phone looking for the kids’ numbers, marveling at how long his contact list has become. How odd, to have lived in a town so long and only now be discovering the people. Oh well. No use dwellin’. Besides, Gravity Falls was full of odd things.
Odd, and often wonderful.
133 notes · View notes
luigifan1998 · 2 days ago
Note
luigi x wife!reader headcanons. can be set before or after he went mia
right right right. married lu. throws myself on the floor
for the sake of length ill keep this to before he dropped off the face of the earth but ive written a memo to write about the after in a separate post soon
my personal biases might get in the way of this because i am unwell and genuinely think he is in desperate need of someone whos up at 3 am fighting a manifestation of their own hubris in their bed. he needs someone that experiences romantic delirium and is convinced her dreams tell her stories of the two of them from thousands of years ago. a girl thats considered showing up to a convent and who has a favorite saint. a rotten girl who wants to eat a piece of his birth certificate. this is so crucial to me unfortunately
that being said. its my belief that lu is saccharine, something he didnt know until you came along and peeled the wallpaper off his psyche. the way his customary sweetness unravels itself is sickly and all enveloping. hes the neediest boy in the world, forever coming to you with quiet infirmity. he drapes himself over you whenever he can, always saying how you were made to hold him. his incessant appetite for affection didnt ease with marriage. he plays with your ringed finger absentmindedly. presses his lips against it, not registering the habit
he would think of marriage early on in the relationship, unreachable to the anxious expressions of others when he'd say hes going to marry you weeks into dating. when he decided this, he paced back and forth in his bedroom, hardly able to focus long enough to tell the time before seeking his mom out to tell her. it all came out in one big prosaic wave. she thought he sounded like a child but his cheeks were flushed and his heart is so painfully stitched onto his sleeve in regards to you. he doesnt press the idea of the union but he likes to tell you how hes going to make you his wife during random moments. when youre eating. when you make him laugh. when hes fucking you
i can see lu trying and failing to preserve going all the way when you mess around once youve accepted his proposal. the engagement would be long. he is so busy and so wanted by everyone around him, but the novelty of you being his fiancé would wear off after the first couple of months. he wants to fuck his wife, not his girlfriend. he wants the sanctimony of marriage to wrap around the two of you when hes inside. the vow acts as a spectator in the bedroom, and he needs it. needs you to be his and only his under a holy decree. he calls you his bride and his little wife
in my heart of hearts....... i know lu would want to propose in the most cheesy way ever. his sister behind foliage, filming the whole thing. balloons. one knee. the rest of your family nearby. the video would be uploaded onto instagram, people you havent ever met commenting with what a beautiful couple the two of you make. but i think the right girl could pavlov him into asking in a whisper under the soft cotton of a bedsheet. face kisses and crying and pleading for the rest of your life to belong to him in some capacity. he cant live without this
the ring would be beautiful and heavy with weight and the diamond would be absurdly large. he'll never let onto the price, just like hes been doing with the checks at each restaurant youve been to together since your first date. bastard. whats next? steak tartare at the reception? he starts biting you each time you deny being able to accept such an insane piece of jewelry
120 notes · View notes
weepingtalecowboy · 20 hours ago
Text
The answer to legend’s eye color would be ‘yes’ (four conspiracy theorized too much and completely missed the obvious answer)
I heard the argument about legend's eye color
But that gave me a hilarious idea
Fanfic prompt :
Legend's eye color changes depending on magic circumstances
It is red if there is prominent dark magic actually surrounding him (lorule , dark world , twilight realm , etc)
It is blue when he is in an area with a lot of light magic because it is strong enough to nullify or repress the effects of dark magic (sacred realm, fairy fountain near a light guardian)
And violet when both magic sources are around but prone to changing depending on how much of what magic is around ( Hyrule kingdom by default)
And green when he is near a water source or actually wet because the mermaid curse is pretty green looking in the oracle game and even more prone to changing
And depending upon who he is close to it also gets influenced (like with Hyrule he has blue eyes or violet, with twilight because of the twilight shard red eyes or violet , with sky blue eyes again, with warriors, time and wind violet eyes and if it is raining he has green eyes)
So image what sort of reaction four would have if he sees legend's eye colors rotate that way (green, red , violet and blue)
He freaked the hell out because legend mentioned that he retrieved the four sword once
And he very inconspicuously (it was not inconspicuous no matter how much Vio is in denial about it) tries to conspiracy theorist through it
But it is barely noticeable that they stay consistent because how the chain is close together anyway if you don’t search for it
Like he will have violet eyes then twilight would run up and they go red and sky and hyrule join as well so now they are blue and then he takes a sip of water and they go green then twilight moves away a bit and they go back to violet or blue
And if they fight monsters they are usually red or violet
This made four think that legend's colors are different from his in temperament
Legend's red obviously seems more like a fighter than four's (that kinda annoyed blue that his color rarely shows up in battle but when Hyrule and legend are being cuddly guess what , blue is there )
Legend's violet is way to social in comparison to four's (and much more snarky as well but that is just because he always has violet eyes when he and warriors interact , hyrule and sky tend to leave them to their teasing)
And legend's green seems to badly be around for anything but a meal or a break (soup is their only kind off meals so obviously his eyes turn green over water heavy stuff and also them messing around in rivers)
And how fast legend seem to change from one to another color is really worrying to four because that must be exhausting and confusing to pass around control this often without stopping once for an actual duration of time
And he tries to teach legend how to use the four sword but he having heavy trauma keeps pushing away lessons (I still decades later never recovered from the fight against the dark colors it is genuinely harder to beat then ganon )
So four tries to even harder
(While completely missing the fact that legend in fact cannot use the four sword (as it is pretty much useless in link to the past) nor has he ever used it)
Four tries so aggressively to bond with his probably successor that it makes twilight’s desperate attempts to connect with time look like nothing
He wants to fix this mess of a four sword user as soon as he can but legend actually has to trust him with the four sword stuff (which legend obviously wants to take to his grave for entirely different reasons because damn he killed the little guy and four seems to know that and it makes him feel horrible that four actually is such a nice person , why must he be so insistent on knowing what happened to the four sword)
So they dance around each other so aggressively that even wild and twilight find it impossible (a real pot , kettle situation they are totally not Better)
80 notes · View notes
hobbitkiller · 1 day ago
Text
It’s not a perspective. Cait and Vi didn’t have different goals in that scene. Also, not every scene that sets up joining forces has to literally spell out that’s the intent of the scene. I honestly don’t get your insistence that everything be spelled out for you like you’re a child.
I’m also clearly going to have to explain foreshadowing to you. Foreshadowing is a literary and story telling device that is used to plant an idea in the reader’s/viewer’s mind for later. Introducing the idea that Piltover and Zaun had joined forces before was placing that idea in the viewer’s head.
You are very much reaching with your analysis of Ambessa just being there to raise tensions. You seem to not grasp how stories develop. In interesting, multifaceted stories like Arcane characters don’t show up with a moist ache to twirl indicating evil intent. That doesn’t mean it’s bad storytelling for them to become the major villain. That’s good storytelling, actually. That said, someone familiar with tropes and story structure could easily predict that she was going to become the new big problem.
Again, you keep acting like every bit of setup had to be super explicit in spelling out the two sides were going to fight together and that, if it didn’t it means that wasn’t the plan. That’s not how writing works. You’re supposed to be able to put all of the pieces together.
That said, they pretty explicitly showed where the use of hextech could lead without nuance in the second episode, so acting like that wasn’t set up as a major threat frankly feels intellectually dishonest. Sure, at the time we maybe thought Heimerdinger was being an alarmist, but everything that happened with hextech from that point forward drove the plot more toward that point he warned about. Even when they spell things out for you as clearly as they can, you don’t want to see it.
As for agency, season two was very much the “find out” part of “fuck around.” What happened with Viktor was a result of his dangerous experiments with hextech. If he hadn’t done that, Jayce wouldn’t have been able to use the hex core to heal him. Him and Jayce going their separate ways was the consequence of Jayce weaponizing hextech. The anomaly was the consequence of Piltover overusing hextech. Ambessa’s ability to take over was the consequence of Jinx blowing up the council. Season two was where characters had to deal with the consequences of the choices they made in season one.
None of these consequences were forced. Yes, they had big fantasy/Sci Fi fallout, but that’s because the show is Sci Fi/fantasy. That tends to be what happens in the genre. You could easily replace the implications and fallout of hextech with nuclear power or similar technical advancements that created massive problems in the real world, and an imperial power like the US, or Noxus in the show, taking advantage of social and political division in a smaller country to try to control its land and resources is a common refrain throughout history.
You’re right, the arcane isn’t the main focus. The main focus also isn’t the political strife. Both are devices used to tell the story of the characters. The show is not about Piltover versus Zaun. The show is about how that conflict has shaped the characters. Feel free to read my other posts on the subject.
Not sure wha t your Warwick point is. Yes, he is there to retraumatize Vi in the end. Yes, his agency is taken away. That would be the tragedy right there.
As for Mel continuing the cycle, that’s up for interpretation, I guess. I think the cycle she’s specifically breaking there is the one where “Medarda’s only take.” She ended the cycle where her family raises itself up by taking from others.
Your argument against the acceleration rune doesn’t make sense because the device that could only be made with it was Ekko’s which was, in fact, the difference. Pointing out how everything else is the same actually hurts your argument there.
Also, a big lipped alligator moment is something that comes completely out of nowhere and serves no purpose. Neither of those describe Viktor and Jayce. Do they have to explain the exact mechanics of what happened? Would stopping to go into some technobabble have made the show better? Because we always pay close attention to characters doing that in media right? We’re really in it for the made up technobabble.
Your desire for the show to end in a civil war makes it neither better writing nor what the show initially intended. You like to reference what actually happened in the Jayce Silco scene to try to say it wasn’t foreshadowing (again, because I can only assume you don’t know what foreshadowing is)? What did Jayce say would happen if they actually went to war with each other? Zaun would have been crushed. Yes, it would have been a blood bath on both sides, but a Piltover army with hextech and the Noxians would have either won or would have claimed victory and been dealing with insurgent attacks from Zaun for the foreseeable future.
There would be no reconciliation at all unless the show wanted to really abandon one of the ways it was most grounded, which is how violence and vengeance feed each other. There’s a reason why, after most revolutions and wars throughout history, the country is drawn into another war pretty quickly after. One conflict breeds another.
There’s a reason why regions like the Middle East are seemingly caught in endless cycles of violence—because people don’t generally forgive losing a war easily, because wars are costly in lives and resources, and because generational traumas and wrongs often come back to haunt us. Even if the war ended with a miraculous agreement on both sides to lay down arms, there will be people who lost family who will still want justice—to feel that their loved one’s death meant something.
If, however, people’s loved ones died fighting together, that’s a powerful reason to try to make a positive change. Because, again, people want the sacrifice to mean something. It supposedly partly why Britain and other European countries established services like the NHS after WWII. After living through the Blitz and the destruction, it made them want to create a better future.
You keep complaining that the show largely drops the class conflict story after episode four, and that would be a problem if that was what the show was about. However, given the show is about the characters and episodes five and six are mostly about bringing Jinx and Vi and Vi and Caitlyn back together, it made sense to narrow the focus back down to that family unit. The conflict is still there in the background—it’s in the tragedy of Vander, Silco, and Felicia. It’s in the fact that Noxus and Piltover feel entitled to take Vanwick, but it’s not the focus.
I’m honestly not a huge fan of episode seven, because I’m not a huge fan of TimeBomb, but that was an interesting take on what else could have helped bridge the divide between Piltover and Zaun—the tragic loss of a child and the loss of the technology that further drove Piltover and Zaun. The episode is about the class conflict in the sense that it introduces a world mostly without it, showing that, just like it’s possible to have “good” versions of Jinx/Powder, it’s also possible to have a works where Piltover and Zaun have peace. That was the lesson Ekko took away from his AU adventure, to not give up on a better world—that things aren’t “too far gone.”
I also find your point about Jayce not talking to Viktor weird…you do get that he wasn’t really in his right mind there, right? We also can’t say for sure what would have happened if he hadn’t shot him. Maybe the fallout would have been worse. Maybe Viktor would have made more followers so that there were even more dolls when it came to a head. But, again, Jayce wasn’t in the mental state to have a rational discussion right then.
The conflict does come back in the last two episodes because it is somewhat a question of whether or not Zaun will help—which would be Piltover suffering the consequences of its actions. Now, you’re right, arguably the question would be what choice did they have in the end, but that’s again honestly true to many real life conflicts. You’re stuck working with the lesser of two evils.
As I said, what would have been completely unrealistic would have been if everyone hugged and kissed and had a huge barbecue together with fireworks after the Noxians left. We know from history that old prejudices often return once the battle is over—take how Black soldiers were treated in the US after…I was going to say WWII, but really every American war.
I also honestly can’t help other people deciding Sevika being on the council is supposed to be a resolution instead of a first step. It was clearly not framed as a resolution with everyone sharing mistrusting looks and her looking, frankly, uncomfortable. If people decide to be obtuse and not read the overt visual language of the show, that’s a them problem.
And guess what? The show isn’t about class conflict. Yes, it’s an essential element, a major theme, and vital context. It is not what the show is about. Just like unchecked scientific progress is a theme, but not what the show is about.
You bring up what Silco said about the cycle continuing. My point is not about how all violence will always and forever be no more; it’s about how these specific characters are breaking their cycles. Again, this show is about the characters first, which is why it makes sense that they didn’t solve class inequality in a year. It’s about these characters and their stories.
Really, though, much of this conversation has strayed from the original point, which is that this was the direction that was set up in the first season. You may not like it. You may have wanted it to go another way. But it was, in fact, set up. The memory Heimer has of the horrible fallout from Arcane is essentially what happened. They deliberately planted the seed (which, again, is the purpose of foreshadowing—not explicitly stating what’s going to happen next, that’s just exposition) that the thing that originally brought the cities together was a common enemy. They had this conversation one episode after Ambessa, a war monger from an imperialist nation, was introduced.
Even if the show did what you wanted and went with a civil war, there’s a very good chance it would have developed into Piltover and Zaun versus Noxus anyway. Cait/Jayce would be trying to stop the war on Piltover’s side, but Ambessa would refuse to give up the fight and leave with nothing. This would have caused Noxus to turn on Piltover, and then it would have been up to Zaun to either help or let them take each other out first and then fight the survivors. Maybe that would have been better. I personally would be asking, “Hey, what happened to the existential threat posed by hextech that was also being built up in the first season?” But maybe you’re fine with dropping the whole “arcane” bit of arcane.
“What happened to rebel Vi? Season 2 destroyed her character!”
“What happened to rebel Vi” is that Vander took her to the bridge where her parents died in his revolution and asked her what she was willing to lose. Then she meets Cait who is gentle and kind while still being tough and it makes her rethink how she sees topside. When Jinx tells her she changed too, that’s what she’s talking about.
I’m sorry if you thought Vi was going to be a topside-hating revolutionary in Season 2, but that’s clearly not where her character arc was going. Remember how she forced her way between Ekko and Cait? It seemed very straightforward that was the role her character was taking on.
I feel similar about people who act like the show was betraying its premise because it ended with reconciliation/Zaun and Piltover working together. Again, the fact that two of the most important relationships were between characters from both sides and that they made a point of talking about Zaun and Piltover first coming together against a common enemy was a pretty clear indicator that was the plan.
Now, I get being annoyed that that was what they chose to do. You don’t have to love the creative decisions of media, just like media doesn’t have to compromise its creative direction to satisfy you. But not liking that they went that direction is not the same as the show having bad writing or engaging in character assassination.
Everything Vi did in season 2 was very much in character with how she changed and who she became throughout Season 1. Hell, she used enforcers and Hextech to raid Shimmer facilities before Commander Kiramman ever threw on a beret. So, yes, actually wearing the uniform was a huge and complicated decision that she was definitely not happy about, but it also fell in line with what she had been doing.
There’s meat for another post at some point about the three different Zaun/enforcer partnerships we see in the show: Vander/Greyson, Silco/Marcus, and Cait/Vi; but I’m not going to go into that now.
TLDR: “Rebel Vi” who wants to fight all of topside hasn’t existed since the end of the second episode of the show.
Editing to add that Vi doesn’t see attacking Chem Barons as attacking Zaun; she’s taking down the people who are destroying Zaun.
314 notes · View notes
hockeyspiral23 · 2 days ago
Text
OKAY.
Went and saw Rebecca Yarros speak at the Paramount Theater in Denver. First of all, thanks to the Paramount, the Tattered Cover, RY herself, and the Fantasy Fangirls Podcast for a great afternoon.
I didn't take video, but I did take notes. There were some vague-ish Onyx Storm spoilers with it being the last stop on the tour, so all notes will be below the cut!
What did she love the most about writing Violet in OS? - she's more confident in this book and more determined in what she has to do - they can't silence her.
Hints of Colonel Aetos's signet? - no, and no song that represents it/him, either.
Any other second signets to share? - no
Any signets we haven't seen yet? - No ... she's not going to steal our theorizing fun. Obviously there are signets we haven't seen yet because Violet hasn't seen them yet.
Question about interpersonal drama between the First Six besides just Lyra and Warrick disagreeing? - will not mention ... possibly because we *may* get more about that at another point.
Why did JFB know so much about feathertails? (basically, was he venin prior/did someone fill him in about it?) - everything JFB mentioned was a known fact about feathertails and was not let in on some vast venin conspiracy before crossing the parapet.
Signets show up when they do because nature wants its balance - which is why we're getting all the powerful signets again.
Is there magic elsewhere? (*wink wink*)(this is referencing the Isles without referencing the Isles)
Can she share Ridoc and Aotrom's Threshing story? - She actually IS considering a bonus scene about this but it's also a lot of "hey" "hey" "hey" "hey" and "did we just become best friends?" between them.
Most satisfying kill of the first two books? - Varrish.
Can she confirm a character BESIDES JESINIA who is safe in the series? - She will not confirm ... except for Broccoli. Broccoli is safe (won't kill pets).
Is there a specific epigraph to pay attention to? - All of them. But speaking of epigraphs ... they may not always directly tie into their respective chapter, but they do have some sort of connection somehow.
Was asked to comment on any of the Zihnal gifts specifically ... and chose not to.
About that new family member/brother ... what might she wish us to pay attention to? - Who is missing; someone who thinks is not enough (... basically, who has a reason to reach for power?).
Insight on how Kaori's records are so incorrect? - Remember, it's the riders that give the name of the dragon for the records. So ... do we trust that people are giving the correct names? Are the dragons?
She's not entirely discounting crazy grandma (Riorson, presumably) ideas ...
Aaric's signet did not manifest in IF.
In terms of percentage of full capacity, what is Violet's second signet at? - 10% (because she has no idea how to train it and there's one person alive that can train her); Xaden's probably at 50% with his; Violet's probably at 85% with her first signet (which yes, is pure power just in the form of lightning).
It is NOT the first time that venin have infiltrated the Basgiath scribes ... but Nasya? Is just narcoleptic (so it's not him).
No comment about seeing a venin scribe on the page prior to OS.
What Taylor Swift song would best describe Violet at the beginning of book four? - Look What You Made Me Do
Can she expand on the song she chose for Bodhi? - He's raised to be in Xaden's shadow; he's the spare.
What prompted her to write Broccoli? - She wanted to scare the crap out of us and then haha just kidding ... and also because it's so much fun to write because of where they are and what it symbolizes.
What does she think it is about the Empyrean world that appeals to everyone? - She wishes she knew ... but said possibly the inclusivity, the dragons, the hot men ...
What would Taylor Swift's signet be? - "I do not tell the queen her business." (... might not be direct direct quote, but close enough)
Tell us about the ring and how long it had been in existence. - We see the stone on the blade at a time and then we don't ...
Who is her favorite god/goddess and why? - Malek because you meet him and you're done; everyone fears him.
What about Onyx Storm makes it her favorite? - Her feet are firmly planted in the world and she loves to go places and do things and she had fun with the politics in the places (read: Isles) and has known the ending since FW and loved working toward it and just had fun. IF was a rough, rough time and writing Variation got her back on track and she just genuinely enjoyed writing OS.
If Ridoc had modern technology, what would be the first thing he would do? - You know that boy downloads Tinder ... doesn't wait for WiFi or anything ... also first photo on the app is of him and the Quest Squad or a selfie with Aotrom (that only has like one of Aotrom's eyes in it).
Speaking of Quest Squad ... describe the patch? - Might see it later! (but probably a map)
There was a question about which of her contemporaries she'd recommend and it depended on if you wanted to cry or not (if you do: Last Letter/Things We Leave Unfinished; if you don't: Variation, In the Likely Event).
Is there a character she was writing and knew they'd be a fan favorite and were or thought they would be and weren't? - Knew Ridoc would; didn't necessarily answer the other half, but reiterated that she had no idea that Broccoli would be an instant fan favorite (and was a late night/early am idea that she kept).
What has been her favorite part of the tour? - Right now because of being on stage at the Paramount, in a venue where she's seen so many shows. And the people who bring their service dogs with the service dragon vests.
MIL was gifted FW; advice for when she gets to the spicy and doesn't know that (audience member) reads them? - Run the other direction ... and then hand her Haunting Adeline so then it'll look tame.
Who does she think is the most underrated character? - Sawyer; also expanding on his relationship with Silseag, Sawyer is worried he's dishonoring him because of needing potential accommodations (like Violet), but Silseag's just waiting for him to come around.
Regarding where she came up with the analogy for the chilled pond/ice for mental health: - Her kids play hockey and she always wonders what's beneath the ice - we can swim through our emotions or glide right over them.
What are her desert island books? - East of Eden (Steinbeck) is her favorite; I missed one series but I did hear the Children of Blood and Bone (iirc) ... but basically she's like can I cheat and bring my kindle?
How has writing her books changed her life? - Still has to take her head up to look around ... but the core of her life - family - hasn't changed; the rest of the world around that core just spins a lot faster and there's a lot more people now to watch her succeed or watch her fail.
Thanks to Broccoli ... what pets exist in the world? - We've already known that domesticated animals exist, so it does open it up to pets, but it's not like they're going to be running around Basgiath.
A character she loves to hate: - She doesn't hate anybody, because everybody has a reason for what they're doing. Except Varrish; she hated Varrish because he was a two dimensional character (read: straight evil).
Advice for a spouse going through her first deployment? - it sucks; everyone does it differently; find a way to escape to keep the spiraling thoughts from coming (she read, personally).
Favorite Onyx Storm vibes playlist song? - Agreed with the audience member's mention of Halsey's Nightmare ... and also thinks that the end of book three is optimistic.
If she could tell readers to reread one specific scene for hidden meaning ... - The last 100 pages.
Can she expand on what it means to be dedicated? - I'm pretty sure she alluded to us getting a bit more info about this in book four, but it's basically that you're given in service to a god.
Did she use parts of Colorado Springs for inspiration for the Gauntlet and Parapet? - Not necessarily those specifically, but CO does play into inspiration for geography, particularly with the mountains (and Aretia).
Weather report for the Continent? - Southern gets warmer (closer to the equator), weather patterns with the mountain ranges, there's more magic in areas of more geologic change (tectonic plates).
Sooo there's mention of pirates and kraken and y'know, Heaton breathes underwater ... - She hasn't written books four and five, but she might use or might not use things she mentions in the series ...
What else can we do to support her as an author? - Read other people's books (and be patient).
Her son asked which is her favorite child (or which son is her favorite and why is it him - it wasn't entirely clear) ... to which she said that it's like she always says - whichever kid is sleeping.
About the TV series: the lines we love are there, a lot of the dialogue is there, it's in good hands with Moira and that she knows what's important (has talked to readers) and is capturing the essence ... and to stop sending Theo James her way for Xaden because he's 40 and white.
Any specific IF Xaden POV scenes she'd love to write? - She would love to write the time in between when Xaden learns Vi is captured and he rescues her (... but it sounds like given secrets boy, we probably won't actually get it).
Final bomb: First three songs on the book four playlist are (all TS): Down Bad, But Daddy I Love Him, I Can Fix Him
... and more Xaden POVs in book four depend on what he's doing.
107 notes · View notes