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revehae · 1 year ago

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party monster

pairing ↠ best friend!jennie x (f) reader (but not really)

genre .. warnings ↠ smut, thoughts of noncon, sub!jennie, oral, noncon recording, monsterfucking

summary ↠ for years you’ve crushed on jennie kim, your best friend, the queen of queens, the party monster. but it seems that you’re not exactly her type.

wc ↠ 3.3k

a/n ↠ this is my first time writing this kind of fic in 6 months so i am unfortunately quite rusty…

don’t like it, don’t read.

she looked like royalty on top of him.

you couldn’t deny it - you could never deny jennie anything. how could you? she was funny, enchanting, downright beautiful, and she was your friend of many years.

your best friend, to be exact. it was a title you were proud to claim, one you had never taken for granted. you had always been there, whether she needed to laugh or she needed to cry, and you would always be there for whatever she needed.

but apparently, she didn’t need you for this.

it was not your intention to find her this way, to be fair. in your search for an empty bathroom, chance had led you to the one connected to the bedroom your best friend and her boy toy occupied. you had only come here in need of relief, but in her own way, jennie yearned for something similar.

yet so different all at once. you knew her voice when it came to your ears, even if it was at a pitch and with a breathlessness you had never quite heard, and your curiosity had gotten the better of you. they must have been too lost in the haze of their arousal, because they never seemed to notice they’d left the bathroom door open for all the world to see.

and you did see. you saw her on top of this nameless boy, her cashmere dress in a heap on the floor, sweat gathering at her soft skin and glimmering in the moonlight like precious pearls. you saw how pleasure took her by its gnarled hand, her lips crying the cries of angels. you saw how his greedy hands were all over her, touching her, surely not knowing just how lucky he was.

you could only stand there, trembling with the intensity of an emotion you had never known this deeply. there was a hot throb in your chest as cruelly it tightened, and in the same moment you could hear this nameless boy swearing about how tightly she was wound around him.

in that moment, she had taken a form you had never seen of her before, becoming a thing so violently unknown to you, and all you could think about was how none of it was for you. it was certainly not the first time she’d whored herself out to someone that wasn’t you, but seeing it happen in front of you was different than being regaled on the tales.

those boys were faceless, something you could convince yourself never existed as you pictured only jennie’s cries of ecstasy. even now, this nameless boy wasn’t so nameless anymore as you heard it fall brokenly from her lips.

but it’s okay, you consoled yourself, turning away from the door. you could fix her.

that had been three months ago at least. you were still doing everything in your power to come up with something to salvage your broken heart with, in spite of already knowing jennie got around, but you had come short of viable options.

and like that fateful night all those months before, you were at another party, because nights in new york were when party monsters like jennie came to life. and as to expected of her, she’d strutted inside sporting this lacy dress, the same vibrant red color as her lips.

she was stunning in red.

it was something you had told her more than once. you took your role as jennie’s best friend as though you were the queen’s aide, and in a way, that wasn’t so far from the truth. she was the queen of queens, the party monster, and a woman of her caliber had to look nothing less than like art at every party she set foot on.

that red cashmere dress lived in your head. you had been the one help her decide, and yet some boy had been the one to take it off.

“hey, where’s jen?” rosé asked, poking her head around the corner.

“no idea,” lisa said, finishing what was left of her exquisite wine.

the two girls glanced toward you. of course they did; you were jennie’s best friend. apparently, you were supposed to know what she was up to at all times.

you sighed, peeling yourself off the sofa and sitting your drink on the table. “i’ll look,” you started. “but if she’s somewhere getting dicked down again, you’re going to make an enemy out of me.”

rosé blew you a kiss. “thanks, beautiful.”

“yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, giving your drink one last longful glance as you stepped out of the room.

you took a guess that rosé had come from the main hall and if she hadn’t scouted jennie there, then there was a fair chance she was in one of the upstairs rooms. getting dicked down, you thought disheartenedly, but you searched nonetheless.

you had only seen her that way once and it was something you surely never wanted to see ever again. the memory of the thunder in your chest still lingered and maybe the feeling itself hadn’t exactly faded.

what would it take for her to understand that she was yours? she may not have realized it yet, but you were everything she needed. you could please her in ways she’d never imagined, take her to heights that’d never before been.

you stilled when you heard her voice, almost walking straight past the door. it was of some kind of relief that there were no moans, and she seemed to be quietly chatting about something. with the door barely open, you slipped inside, hoping that it wouldn’t creak.

it took all of two seconds to recognize her, standing at the edge of the bed, but there were no words to describe the horror on your face when you saw the thing next to her.

deep black in color, draped in some slick, indigo substance that coated it smoothly, and towering two feet over her. teeth that could kill with one slight graze. it didn’t look of this world. and yet, jennie didn’t seem afraid; she looked exasperated.

“i thought i told you to stay home,” she hissed, glaring up at the creature. whatever the hell it was.

the alien-like creature seemed indifferent, from what you could make of its features. “hungry,” was all it said.

jennie didn’t seem impressed. “you were fed before i left.”

“hungry,” it repeated, raspier, brushing a long finger down her dress.

jennie slapped its hand away, shaking her head. “no, not here. there’s people, carnal.”

carnal said nothing, overcome by a need that went beyond the bounds of human desire, and returned its finger to her dress. for a second, you thought that it would tear it to shreds, but instead it unzipped the back quicker than she could dispute.

you could hear her whining, but carnal was intent on taking and little would come between that purpose. jennie gasped when it took her by the arm and tugged her onto the floor, silently demanding in its approach, all the while her pretty red dress was tossed into oblivion.

for whatever reason, the sight hadn’t troubled you like it did not too many moons ago. it intrigued you. part of you wanted to emerge from the cloak of the shadows to rescue her from this creature, but the other wanted to watch and see how this would unfold.

jennie’s eyes burned fiercely of ire. “i won’t do it.”

carnal glanced down at her and you swore the sight gave you shivers, but jennie didn’t move. “no?”

“no.”

you had to restrain yourself from gasping when carnal grabbed jennie by strands of hair at the back of her head. it forced her mouth onto its cock, a death grip on her tresses. her whimpers of protest were muffled, meaningless little sounds that no one would bother to hear.

it would be a lie to do otherwise, and thus you had to confess to yourself that you were bemused by the sheer size of its girthy cock. jennie could hardly fit anything an inch longer than the tip into her mouth. it stroked her limits, sped right by them.

but the part that bemused you even further was how after a minute or three, jennie didn’t seem to hate it. there was no way in hell your eyes were making up the way she sucked in every bit she could take, eagerly bobbing her head.

the muffled cries waned into muffled moans, and for no good reason. no efforts were being taken to please her in return. she was this meek little thing on her knees before an otherworldly creature with a name far too apt.

carnal did not react too strongly, but you had to assume that jennie’s potent greed did a number on it. she wasn’t going anywhere, yet the death grip on her hair only got tighter. what she couldn’t fit between her stained lips, she took in her hands and kneaded between her supple fingers.

your mind was everywhere and nowhere at the same time, stretched across a plane of thought. you were strangely immersed in the horrors in front of you, but your questions wandered. every moment that passed, you wondered if maybe you’d had a little too much to drink.

this was a dirty little secret that even you never knew your best friend had. you couldn’t even begin to fathom how this strange creature could be more than a figment of imagination, and you decided that it wasn’t. it would spare you the headache.

you could see the indent on jennie’s hollowed cheeks, hear the wet noises coming from her lips. perhaps it was stranger that you didn’t hate it. only moments ago you had been prepared to curse whatever idiot of a boy you found her with, and now you were quieter than a mouse.

jennie looked like a pebble at its feet. the beast was more massive than you cared to admit aloud, with a strength that spoke for itself, and a cock that promised total destruction and not anything less. it must’ve been part of the allure for her, because you had never seen her so eager.

and why would she be? the queen of new york city herself never had to ask for anything twice, if at all. it would be an honor for anyone to behold her bare form, but none of that power manifested here in this bedroom. she was sucking carnal off like a common whore begging for a dollar.

your memories reeled back to some instances, not many but a few, where you had noticed her visibly adjusting herself after what you could only assume had been a brief sexcapade in a closet somewhere. and for a moment you stopped to wonder if those faceless people you imagined her with had not been boys, but this damned beast.

it almost made you angrier, trying to fathom how this thing had better chances than you did at pursuing her, and all it took was a little force. had you known that, you would’ve staked your claim to her already.

greed was heavy in the air and you saw carnal seize control after allowing jennie to do as she pleased with it, fucking her mouth harder than she could manage. you couldn’t help but be aroused at the sound of her harshly choking. but she didn’t give up, taking every thrust.

quiet sounds escaped carnal’s mouth, raspy to the ears. it did not have much to say, you’d noticed, and it didn’t need to say much either. you could tell that they’d done this countless times before, because they slipped into this as though it was routine.

maybe you were making it up in your mind, but you could’ve sworn that the room had soared a thousand degrees hotter. part of it was ire on your end, but you couldn’t deny the ache in your core. to see her this way, meek and pliant, brought out an insatiable hunger within you.

by the second carnal’s thrusts were becoming more erratic, its self control seemingly unraveling hard. you were impressed that jennie hadn’t begun to choke again, in spite of the relentless pace. you were certain her jaw strained from the effort, but she still made herself a perfect little toy.

you recognized the brink of ecstasy when you saw it and carnal was at the very cusp. its groans even became a little louder, coming from the back of its throat. the only other thing you could hear was labored breathing and the wet smack of jennie’s lips.

you wouldn’t have wanted to cum that way, you would have wanted to be buried every inch deep between her legs, but after a short moment, the thrusts came to a still and carnal growled. given your angle and the darkness, it was hard to see, but you partly saw the leftover cum she couldn’t swallow drip from her chin.

jennie pushed her mouth off, wiping her lips. her naked chest was heaving for breath. when she stood, you could see the shimmer of tears in her misty eyes. she looked like a train wreck.

not a moment later, carnal tore her towards the bed and she gave a high squeak of surprise. your gaze was fixed to her every movement. on the bed, carnal hoisted her into the air as though she was featherlight and sat her over it. jennie reached for its shoulders.

but carnal, on the other hand, had reached for something else. to your surprise, it began to lubricate her comparatively smaller cunt with its own indigo slick. jennie whimpered, arching into its long, thick fingers as they ran across her folds. there was no doubt that she had become aroused simply by pleasuring this creature, and you could only imagine the ache in her core.

it must’ve been similar to yours. this incessant throbbing that yearned to be soothed; a hunger to touch or be touched.

“carnal,” jennie whined. “please, please…”

carnal didn’t seem to be listening to her borderline anguished cries of desperation, its fingers stretching her cunt open, almost like it was preparing her to take something much larger. but nothing was enough for an insatiable little minx like jennie.

“i don’t care if it hurts,” jennie added, to your shock. “i just want you to fuck me. please, carnal?”

carnal slipped its fingers out of her lubricated pussy and jennie made a noise of discontent at the emptiness, in spite of it being what she had asked for. it was too dark to be certain, but you swore that for half a second, there was a dark gleam of hunger in its heavy eyes.

the alien-like beast hoisted jennie up in a single arm and steered its cock to her entrance in the other. it was still stiff in its palms, and you got the feeling that it would take far more than one orgasm to sate a beast of its nature.

it didn’t seem to be concerned with taking its time or allowing her room to adjust to the stretch, but the look on jennie’s face told you that it was what she wanted. there was pain on her lips and pleasure in her eyes, the two being bred into something lethal.

“oh my god,” jennie moaned, tightening her grip on carnal’s shoulders.

carnal grasped her hips, using her as though she was merely some kind of toy rather than a human capable of being wounded. it lifted her up and down its thick shaft, leaving her to do nothing but squeeze her eyes shut and hold on for dear life.

you swallowed hard. when she was being used by a beast two times her size and infinitely stronger than herself, your best friend looked less and less human. she didn’t look like something worthy of respect or dignity. had you not known any better, you would’ve thought she was just some whore.

this was something that you had never seen, something different than before; when you saw her then, she was taking her power, but seeing her now, all of it had been reaped from her body.

deep, guttural grunts escaped the back of carnal’s throat as it rutted into her savagely, at a rhythm that rendered her thoughtless. jennie’s tears stung her eyes yet she kept babbling incoherently, addicted to the agony. there were red lines on her skin from where its nails had dug into her, but from how tight she clung to it, carnal was bound to have plenty of its own.

maybe in some sick, twisted way, the pain and the fear heightened the sensations of ecstasy that it tugged her nearer to every second of every minute. there was no pleasure without pain, and the promise of both had tempted jennie far beyond the point of no return. she was a fiend, you realized, for things that were bad for her.

somewhere in the midst of your astonishment of watching your best friend getting railed by nothing less than an unworldly beast, you remembered your anger, your frustrations. a thought a struck you then, selfish in nature, but bound to work in your favor.

you pulled your phone from your rear pocket and opened the camera, getting it to focus on the two unlikely partners that were showing one another other worlds. if jennie knew you had proof of this tryst, she wouldn’t turn you down for anything. you weren’t sure why you hadn’t thought of the idea sooner.

jennie threw her head back, calling out for carnal. “harder,” she whispered.

carnal silently obliged, but it appeared more like it had lost whatever remained of its self-restraint. jennie’s sounds became louder then, higher in pitch, and you couldn’t miss the way her brows furrowed together.

your camera didn’t, either.

the sound of sex filled the room at an unfathomable intensity. there was a very obvious wet, slick squelch of their skin meeting that anyone could have heard if they walked just shy of the door. jennie’s cunt had already been drenched with arousal on its own, but the addition of carnal’s slick didn’t help.

you almost couldn’t stand it and that feeling was inexplicably amplified knowing that whatever this thing was she surrendered herself to wasn’t even human. but you were embraced by the comfort that you would be its place soon, whether she wanted it or not.

you were imagining it. if you closed your eyes and listened only to the sound of jennie’a pretty little voice, you could picture that it was you she was making all those pitiful sounds for.

“fuck, i’m so…,” jennie trailed, unable to even get the words off the tip of her tongue.

but she didn’t need to say it. carnal saw it. you saw it. hell, anybody half as curious as you were could have been right here, about to witness it. she was on the brink of climax, the cusp of ecstasy, and it was unkind.

and as much as it angered you, you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away for a minute. you had to know what it was like, to see her truly unravel, to lose herself in the highs of pleasure and the throes of sex.

jennie brought a hand to her naked chest, pinching her own nipple. you could see moonlight shimmering on the beads of moisture that clung to her, dancing on the misty haze of lust in her eyes.

it was at that moment you saw the party monster for what she really was. the intensity at last was too much for her to handle and jennie shuddered with climax, her eyes rolling to the back of her head and her toes curling. she cried out the prettiest whimper, singing a name that wasn’t yours.

and somehow none of that mattered, because the beast she let ravage her wasn’t finished. it tossed her onto the bed and continued, fucking her like an animal, like a monster.

you had seen enough. you had what you needed. with the promise of satisfaction vying against the contempt simmering deep within you, you slipped out where you had came.

too soon to see her eyes fade pitch black.

#jennie smut #blackpink smut #gxg smut #girl group smut #jennie kim smut #revehae fics

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kerubimcrepin · 8 months ago

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LIVEBLOG: Wakfu Season 4, Episode 2 [PART 2]

Every time someone says this in this franchise, you should immediately raise 20 red flags because one of the reoccurring themes is "by thinking that you're good and that your intentions are good, so whatever you do is good, you doom yourself to doing evil" or something.

THERE IS SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT HERE....

He's standing on his toes. For some reason, he did not want to take, idk... something to stand on.

The place is still a grabage dump. He's still the good old Jojo we know.

He has a lot more books. Also, quite conspicuously, the shelf that has them shields what used to be his wall of celebrity posters and drawings. lol.

So many plushies... on one hand, it's so cute. The facade of professionalism he had before we knew him well is long gone by now. On the other hand, when coupled with the general infantilization of him by Kerubim and Atcham, it kinda.... feels bad.

He has a new ladder for his bed that doesn't have splinters and rusty nails sticking out of it. He probably bought it himself due to there being No Hope in Kerubim Crepin.

Also, his hobby of cartography is acknowledged once more, considering the parchments that are lying everywhere.

Another thing that feels Vaguely Bad is that we've come a long way from "I'M NOT A KID ANYMORE, STOP TREATING ME LIKE THIS, STOP CALLING ME JOJO!" to "I don't give a shit anymore. Call me anything you want... feels kinda nice too... :)"

The brain poisoning is so major with Joris. No hope for him.

Anyway, it's funny that they just call Ush The Sleazebag. Implies he's a thorn in their side enough of the time for them to actually have a nickname.

God, his room is so trashy. He's just like me fr....

"Let's kill Tot with Hammers" moment #3: They forgor to animate his mouth... where did they even PUT all that money they saved by reusing art made for the movie.

I'm pretty sure that there's like, some translation mistakes here.

This is what he says in French: "Is your dealings/drama/beef with the Sibllings over?" and technically this translation is correct... but, the phrasing of the translation is misleading.

There are two brotherhoods in the series: the forgotten, and of tofu. But in French the words used for both are different: La Confrérie du Tofu, and La Fratrie des Oubliés.

So I am 80% sure what Joris is actually asking is, "Are you finished with the Brotherhood of the Forgotten? Or are you here to fight me?"

When Ush responds with "it all died down" he's kinda making a joke about Oropo, and their whole group being... yeah. fdjgskdfg. And the translation of this line is also not really conveying it.

This is why Joris continues by confirming that Ush isn't involved.

If Ush is no longer a part of a doomsday cult, then he's probably not a danger or connected to this.

He gets so heated once Yugo is mentioned... I am once again reminding you, that Joris likes Yugo a lot.

In this shot, there on the shelf, we can see the woven basket cat bed that Joris slept in as a child and which migrated to be a basket for clothes in the movie after he actually got a real bed.

The Ush grindset:

Come to Joris's house to say that the guy he's parasocially besties with is sus and that his mom hurt the 12 gods. Say you won't get involved & don't give a shit. Leave.

Yeah, yeah, Ush is a bontarian, he likes being heroic and doesn't want the world to be destroyed or something, but it was also 100% some sort of a fucky-wucky mindgame against Joris.

#ro liveblogs dofus #krosmoz #dofus #wakfu #wak4 #joris jurgen

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scorching-earth · 16 days ago

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Savanaclaw characters as the thirteenth sinners.

TW do not ignore: poverty, embezzlement, abuse of power, homelessness, cannibalism, murder, cannon typical violence, family issues.

please if I missed any sort of trigger warnings tell me. onto the tough boys. I am so sorry Ruggie...

Leona:

“Let’s get this over with, my name is Leona. there.” “Shut up! The lot of you can't a man get some shut eyes.” “I’ve gotten rusty so don't expect much.” “you know what I’m happy I got to meet you all”

Even in project moon Leona is Lazy! He’s not a manager. He's the former assistant manager of an R corp team. Don't take him for helpless, he was forced to become a soldier as well. He was clawing his way up to the manager position, only to fuckin fail to his brother. All that effort wasted, at least he doesn't have to fight anymore right? That's funny calling from a falling feather. At least the limbus company had taken leona in.

Leona’s survival was hell bent on being able to fight well. God knows how many clones had to die to prove that. So even completely bare handed Leona’s a monster. But hey, let's stick to theming here and as a pair of Tekko Kagi. their claws like blades that extend past your fingertips. Grate for getting up close and personal. As much as a beast Leona is, he's lazy so he never uses his full strength when getting into a fight.

Since I should put this out there Leona is human. Anything not human is purged in the city, so I’m sorry if you wanted Lona to still be a lion boy. From here on out assume everyone is human unless stated otherwise. Leona’s got better sense then even when he was a best man. Singularities make superhumans what do I have to say?

Favorite of bus crew: Gregor has gotten the closest to Leona. Both of them can kinda relate to each other, and Gregor's made an effort to get to know Leona. And every time Leona had tried to swipe away to him, or kill him Gregor just kept coming back. Like a cockroach. So might as well let him stay.

Least favorite of bus crew: Sinclair, the kid’s whining gets annoying. The fact he looks ready to bolt at the smallest inconvenience pisses off Leona. Herabover is a perfect title for the kid. He looks like a stiff wind would knock him over. He also runs away whenever Leona gets close. So Leona knows nothing about him either.

What their Unique magic translated into: Leona has been second to his brother for all of his life, everything around him seemed to dry up, to the pont people called him cursed. It didn't help when he finally got into R corp, it seemed like all the talented people seemed to die out. leaving only Leona as the only talent. King’s roar is hard to translate properly so I translated what it means to Leona. Leona considers his magic to be a bit of a curse and laughable. To dry anything out. In this case Lona has a bit of a curse: he “dries out” other people. Their talent, their desire, he’s able to wring it out. It’s how he was able to climb to his spot.

Sinner description: for as unmotivated and lazy as this sinner can be, his an extremely useful assist. His strength and battle prowess currently outrank any of the other sinners. It is advised to not bother him while he is napping, if it is necessary to bother him while he is asleep have one of the sinners do it for you.

Canto summary:Leona was born to a nest family in R corp. He knows comfort others could only dream of. He had an older brother and his brother were polar opposites. Leona has this curse that had everyone lose everything leaving him to be at the top alone. Everyone would avoid him, instead focusing and completing his brother. with how easily his brother could bring people up, and make them stronger. All while calling Leona lazy and cursed Leona wanted to make something out of himself. He wanted to rise above other people’s expectations. So he worked his ass off once he got into R corp. Wanted to climb the ranks to become a manager in the highest position. To take everything easy for the rest of his life what a dream. One Leona never got to fulfill. That same brother that made him feel so inferior, had swiped his dream form under his nose. The bastard wasn't even grateful. How could he just laugh as Leona clawed his way up. He couldn't have been lifted up by the people around him like his brother could. No one was there to lift him up, they would lose all will. Leona was set to suffer all by himself. While his brother celebrated with other people. So Leona did the one thing that would get him in trouble: he tried to sabotage his brother. Falling because of the people around his brother protecting him. Leona was taken away for it. Leona’s canto would have you collecting the golden bow from R corp. Fighting waves for clones. Leona would end up fighting his brother, losing alone, until the sinners would come to his ade. The only reason being that it’s their job. No Leona doesn't matter, it's leone's bother stopping them from getting the golden bow. Leona for once got to experience what his brother had innately. A tem to back you up.

Jack:

“Nice to meet you boss! I’m Jack I shall work for you today onward.” “I don't need to get into pleasantries with coworkers.” “... the red mist is cool too..” “My biggest regret will never be undone, but I can move past it.”

Jack used to work as a fixer. Grade 9 mind you, but hey a fixer nonetheless. So he passed the exam, he worked for a sub optimal office, mostly finding cats before three and stuff. (Finn who?) he had hoped to at least do some good in the backstreets, like the red mist. Only he knew that was unrealistic. That he was setting his sights too high. But damm if he couldn't try to make a difference. So Jack could always hope couldn't he?

Jack would use a double edged sword. It’s extremely common as a chosen weapon so it’s easy to find and buy. Something that most people have settled for. Jack’s office did not pay for weapons. So Jack had to buy his own.

Jack thinks that even in the city you should at least try to make an honest living. He expects those around him and his own office to abide by this. Granted “honest living” in the city is near impossible. Jack just hates embezzlement. He had suffered because of it in the past because of it, and expects those around him to at least work for their pay instead of taking it from others.

Favorite of bus crew: Don Quixote by a long shot. Jack finds her yammering about fixers fun, it helps that Jack is secretly just as obsessed with them as Don is. Jack just tends to hide his admiration from people he doesn't know too well. Ofton electing to listen intently as Don gose on about fixers, he just likes Don’s passon. And as a former fixer himself he can understand how Don feels about some of the colored fixers.

Least favorite of bus crew: while gambling is not as bad as some other ways to get money. Jack can't come to not look at Rodion in disgust as she talks about gambling. It’s just icky to Jack, he knows that people who gamble are well aware that they can easily lose their money. It just doesn't feel right to take advantage of people who are so low thy HAVE to resort to gambling

What there Unique magic translated into: Jack himself has two types of ways he fights, one his polished and somewhat ok way of fighting. The second is what others call his “beast mode”. In beast mode Jack fights with less concern for his well being putting all his force behind his swings. Jack cant activate “beast mode” it only happens when he’s not doing well in a fight and is incredibly injured, or something so horrible happens he cant hold onto himself and lets go of all of his reason.

Sinner description: do not let this sinner's appearance fool you he’s an incredibly sharp fighter, and has strong morals. If this sinners' morals get in the way of your job it is advised to discuss a compromise. This sinner is not unreasonable when it comes to what he is willing to do. The sinner's rough disposition is really just an act for his kindness.

Canto summary:Jack’s past consists of two things: his secret admiration for fixers, and his strong sense of what is right and wrong. He became a fixer as quickly as possible, joined a no name office and set out to try and help as many people as he could. It wasn't long until he was faced with a situation where his morals were challenged. for that he stayed steadfast in them having heard the lights' voice but paused it away. Jack has accomplished something he has yet to do once more. He had awakened his ego weapon temporarily. His office’s boss was embezzling funds from the office itself and not paying the fixers well enough. Everyone but Jack knew about this. Jack had ended up finding out on his own he was determined to make it right and in the process killed his boss. Something that to this day he regrets.

(I am so sorry Ruggie.)

Ruggie:

“So you're the boss? Manger? Executive? Eh… I don't actually know all of this “job” nonsense anyways.” “I know what it is like to struggle unlike SOME people.” “How can I regret surviving? I fought for my place here.” “ah… that’s… that’s unfortunate.”

Ruggie has had a HARD life. But in all of that he had learned how to survive very well, he’s fast on his feet, is quick witted, and is extremely sneaky. Ruggie lives for one reason to keep providing for his pack, and for that he had to risk his life for even a single piece of bread. You're killed if you're caught stealing, and Ruggie has been caught only a few times. Ruggie despite all odds, and everything that had him crawling away from certain death made it, and now has a job for the limbus company.

Ruggie has never handled a proper weapon before. So when the company handed him a stick he shrugged and called it a day. His value has never been in fighting anyways. His value is in his skills. Yet if he’s pushed to he can and will fight for his own survival, he’s done it a number of times with improvised weapons. The stick is a quarterstaff for those who want to know.

Ruggie teases the hell out of anyone on the bus. What are they going to do, kill him? Well he’ll just come back. So Ruggie just lets anything he thinks slips out. No matter how mean or cringy it is. He just can let the flood gates pour out. He has had quips, comebacks, jokes, and jabs held back just because he couldn't risk dying. Now that death is a non issue Ruggie has forgone holding back.

Favorite of bus crew: Rodion with no heastaon. He has gone and found someone who can sort of relate to his situation. I mean Rodion’s situation was better than his own by a mile. But even if that's true there are some similarities that Ruggie cannot ignore.

Least favorite of bus crew: I think we saw this all coming, if there are no Hong lu haters in the world Ruggie is permanently dead. By the gods Ruggie hates the rich boy so much… The initiative comments he makes about how Ruggie lived, the mention of enough money to feed Ruggie’s pack for a lifetime being squandered on jewelry, or the likes. Ruggie DESPISES Hong lu’s existence. Ruggie would rather bash his skull in then even be in a room alone with Hong lu. Ruggie lets his insults fly. The thing that Ruggie hates the most. Hong Lu shakes off his insults by laughing and smiling. It’s like nothing Ruggie says could ever hurt him.

What there Unique magic translated into: Ruggie with how often trouble would find him learned the art of copying people’s body language. It’s proven that if you replicate someone’s body language they will like you just a little bit better. Man has that little bit better saved Ruggie’s skin too many times to count. So he can replicate someone's mannerisms speech patterns identically. Sometimes it looks like people are copying him. It has led to an unconscious habit of copying the mannerisms of whoever he’s talking to. Ruggie is so good at this skill. That if he had the means to, he could actually just replace another person.

Sinner description: this sinner has had a hard life and sees most of the other sinners as privileged in some way. He will end up feeling animosity to several other sinners as a result. Yet this sinner’s skills are too valuable to lose. So you should take whatever he says with a grain of salt

Canto summary:Ruggie is a former rat, not a literal rat mind you but the homeless of the city. He lived with a bunch of other rats that together they formed a pack. Most of his pack consists of children and some elderly rats. Ruggie was the only person who was somewhat fit enough to steal, kill, and sell. Ruggie provided for his pack not out of pride but out of necessity to say he stared death in the face is wrong. Him and death became good friends as he would sometimes never have enough. He found that some people cannot be saved. He had to watch as the family died due to lack of nutrition. He could do nothing about it. One day he just killed the wrong person. He was so sure he would die for it, that he felt even worse when he was detained and put into prison. Because his family would die without ever having to at least feast on his body. Facing the city’s worst head on now Ruggie cannot begin to think of the horror that will await him now that he’s out of the hole that is being a rat. But first he has to face his own past and the fixers who want the golden bow. Just as much as the limbus company wants them too.

#ask blog #twisted wonderland #twst #limbus company #disney twisted wonderland #limbus x twst #project moon #limbus #limbus company crossver #twisted wonderland disney #twsisted wonderland #twsited wonderland #twisted wonderland crossover #twistedwonderland #twst ruggie #twst jack #twst leona

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twice-damned-birdie · 4 months ago

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i used to have a fun plan to summarize all my noteds from the week. shit hit the fan and i don't even know what's going on anymore. so guess what? we get a relic from a calmer time (week of December 2, 2024)

what has pidge learned this week?

the fun post where i get to summarize my noteds from the week.

The Sovereign Fan Club ( @thesovereignfanclub ) allows non-students to join.

Doc ( @docya-mum ) has 3 2 children, a spider and a cat.

Monster Java salted caramel is good. so is the Pipeline Punch.

Solaire is spelled s-o-l-a-i-r-e and not s-o-l-a-i-r.

Vincent is no longer a Solaire.

d'deridick is not a new sovereign but instead an insult for the sovereign D'derhidan possessing Blake.

Blake ( @yourlocalcultist )is possessed by a sovereign and not happy about it. has had to break his own limbs before.

Felixvarela ( @theotherdamnincubus ) has heightened senses that allow him to feel the earth's spin and rotation. this is very hard for him.

Hush ( @im-hush ) is not Doc's child. that was a joke that should not have been taken at face value.

Ryn, who runs the Sovereign Fan Club has been stabbed before. they're okay. don't worry about it.

Allan is two inches shorter than me. (he's 5'8) (i also knew this already but thought it would be funny to note)

Xavier was the quarterback and captain of the Dahlia Ravens. rest in power man. you are missed.

Allan keeps getting bites from various magical races. one of which is an eldritch raccoon named Rico. i am the person who has to heal those bites.

wolf shifters are not allergic to chocolate.

the beta of the Shaw pack, Asher ( @bootyliciousbeta ) is apparently rusty on shifter knowledge despite being one himself.

Ryn is also semi-possessed by the sovereign of psychokinesis Wen'Alak. this started after they had a near death experience about a decade ago.

week 1 of my tumblr blog's existence and catching up on what in the world is going on in dahlia.

apparently it's a lot of fucking

#pidge chirps #get noted!#redacted roleplay

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bromberrybee · 1 month ago

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Hello! I saw you talking about the OWK show and I have to add:

People wanted it to be all action, where Obi-wan is super strong and whatnot—those people don’t understand the point of the show!!!

OWK is about healing, it focuses on the ways in which Obi-wan moves on from the horrors of ROTS, he is depressed and tired, and the whole point IS FOR HIM TO HEAL!!

It pisses me off when people moan about how “The show is boring” or “Why isn’t Obi-wan cool anymore” like…where they expecting Obi-wan to be able to move on from everything just like that?

I LOVE getting to see him be miserable and tired, I LOVE the focus on his relationship with Leia, I LOVE him being able to MOVE ON AND HEAL!

I am very passionate about this

-teddybarebones

THANK YOU omg i went out of the tumblr app for one minute and it deleted my original reply before i could save it so rewriting this a second time lets see how much i remember. before i watched the show i saw all these dudebros on yt trashing the show so i went into watching it with comically low expectations and- ???? it was so good?? these cock stroking mfs were complaining it was boring and bad when it just wasn’t?? yeah it wasn’t another fucking action flick but it wasn’t supposed to be and it didn’t NEED to be. it was about obi-wan finally moving on and HEALING after TEN GODDAMNED YEARS living with these horrors night after night. of course he’s not gonna be jumping about the screen all fresh-faced and happy like he was in tcw or the prequels but he didn’t NEED to. he is ten years out from a genocide-level trauma that he still hasn’t managed to even begin to process. making him run around like nothing was wrong and he was still young and his ENTIRE WORLD wasn’t destroyed and hunted to extinction would have been absolute character assassination. i won’t discredit the criticisms about the bad cgi — disney, uh, has something against paying their digital effects artists. but can’t you look beyond that for even a minute? beyond the middling cgi the show gave us such beautiful moments, such beautiful character development. it developed the relationship between obi-wan and leia in such a beautiful adorable way and i can forgive the somewhat mediocre graphics for that. i mean reva’s redemption arc? the obi-wan/vader duel paralleling the training duel between obi-wan and anakin? the quinlan nod? just the ending of e2?? i was swooning at 3:30 pm on a thursday over it yesterday. and that’s just to name a few. all these mfs need to stop sucking their own dicks and appreciate the tenderness the show gave us. and then there’s the complaints about the hack job obi-wan and leia did at infiltrating the inquisiorious hq? for one, leia is literally and ten and obi-wan hasn’t left tatooine in ten years or fought a war or gone on missions in a DECADE. maybe babe is a litte rusty. and secondly oh RIGHT THIS IS STAR WARS. THERE WAS NEVER ANY LOGIC HERE TO BEGIN WITH REWATCH THE OT I BEG YOU. this is exactly the kind of thing that has always passed as the star wars universe’s excuse for good logic. and besides that it was just perfectly adorable and funny and terrifying. and yeah, maybe the show can’t be called a masterpiece, but it is far far far from terrible and saying that is such a huge discredit to it because, past that it fit just so perfectly well. it wasn’t a perfect show but it was a perfect transition between the prequels and the OT. everyone who refuses to see that can lick my ass.

oh well this turned out much nicer than the first version of this. sorry for ranting at your ask but the kenobi show haters always get me riled up and they can take this as hate mail about their bad opinions. anyway since you liked the show i’m gonna take this opportunity to shamelessly plug my fic inspired by it here (link to the fic on ao3). and i have a reliable source telling me there may or may not be a sequel in the works (there is) (the source is the 42 page draft sitting in my google drive) (the logic is not there it is all crack) (and angst) (crangst, if you will) (so this is really just on brand for me)

#obi wan kenobi #star wars #asks #dino rants

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krystaldeath · 1 year ago

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Cult of The Lamb hc’s (part of me feels like I should wait till I play the game myself - or watch a full playthrough at least - before I “solidify” these but meh. For now at least these are how I see things):

* Kinda typical hc I feel like but Leshy is the youngest, then it’s Heket, Narinder, Kallamar, and then Shamura is the oldest.

* Idk what their ages would be chronologically wise but my personal hc’s for “biological” age are: Leshy (21), Heket (25), Narinder (27), Kallamar (32), and Shamura (40). I think Lamb is about 200 years chronologically but 28 “biologically” (I think it’s funny if they’re “older” than Narinder)

* I don’t have a name for them yet but my version of the Yellow Cat is a little bit fucked up actually. Like they seem chill and they kinda are? But they’ve got a body count. And no not the sex kind. Think of that one audio where the guy answers the body count with 30 and when it’s clarified that it’s about sex he’s like “Oh well I haven’t done that yet!” And the other persons like “WHAT DOES 30 MEAN THEN???”

* I need y’all to know I project onto The Lamb HARD. So yeah, they always wanted to be kind and sorta made it a big part of their personality. Unfortunately their world and circumstances just doesn’t allow for their kindness. They still try to be as kind as they can be, but it’s hard when you’re slowly ascending to godhood, especially into the god of death.

* Also Agender Lamb. They/Them and ONLY They/Them Lamb all the way. Demi ro & sex & pan. They’re a?ab (assigned ??? At birth; bc I can’t decide but if you MUST know I think they can shapeshift a bit now so. Maybe they forgot themself lol). Presents androgynously, leaning either way whenever they feel like it. They have a more masc voice though I think, like the ones people use in comic dubs a lot.

* Once I figure out how to draw (could stop it there I am Rusty) anthropomorphic animals it’s over for y’all (Translation: I will draw my self insert and The Lamb being kinda fucked up Besties)

* ((PLEASE ASK ME ABOUT MY SELF INSERT AND OTHER OC INSERTS I HAVE FOR THIS THE BRAIN ROT IS SO REAL))

* The cotl fandom is filled with queer people who’ve got some level of religious trauma, let me recommend a recent song I’ve been looping and imagining a cotl/narilamb animatic to: Collared by Vane Lily (look it up on YouTube to watch the fun mv first!) WARNING IT IS HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE

* I’ve been flip flopping a bit on what species she’d be but I have ideas for a follower love interest for Heket! At first I thought a bunny, then a bee, and currently feeling like a bat would be cute. Idk but I do see her as a warrior type who also likes to bake and do cutesy things too

* I think once the bishops become followers their injuries are worse but they can still “work” around them: Leshy can kinda see things if they’re up close. Heket can sorta speak but not fast and she’s got. Well not a sore throat bc. She doesn’t have one of those anymore. But something akin to that constantly. Kallamar can only hear loud things or if someone spoke into his ear directly (he only allows those in his polycule and his siblings (minus Narinder) to get that close). Shamura does get a bit lost in their own mind, and even when they’re more conscious their memory is spotty.

* Back to my Yellow Cat being a bit fucked up: They actually really liked the idea of chaos (though they hardly show it) so when they find out Leshy was the bishop of chaos instead of being scared or unnerved they’re like “*twirls hair (fur??)* ha ha ha, omg, really~?”

* *slaps the top of The Lamb, Leshy, and probably so many others don’t underestimate me* these bitches can fit so much adhd (+ autism probably) in them

* Probably (geez I use that word a lot huh?) got more hc’s, especially for other characters, but this is already pretty long so I’ll leave it here for now

#cult of the lamb #cotl headcanons #I would tag as narilamb or leshycat but I mean… I didn’t really get into either of them in this lol #my posts #cotl oc #kinda??? I mention my self insert and such #to entice you to ask about them: They’re a blonde long furred cat that has an extra set of arms that are bat arms #wanna know why? ask :3c #please

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 months ago

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So, I am actually still reading X-Factor. In the last two issues, we had some plot development, and, I'll admit, a few decent moments. This series is still so ridiculous I can't even take the pointed satire seriously. And I still only care about Pyro, Cecilia and Frenzy.

Spoilers ahead:

X-Factor gets summoned to a military facility where they are holding dangerous mutant prisoners. Cecilia and her boyfriend Oskar (mutant teleporter that was only introduced last issue) are so lovey-dovey that Oskar may as well have a target painted on his back. Pyro is very relatable, as usual:

The military wants X-Factor to promote a new law that involves turning in dangerous mutants (as usual), and demands that the team gives access to their phones. Pyro is not pleased by this, neither is Havok or Frenzy.

I actually like the detail here of the "suspicious character," on the poster looking a lot like Frenzy, it feels like Russell is trying to deal with racist police programs like "Stop and frisk" that disproportionately target Black people and other POC. Meanwhile, Oskar and Cecilia are comically wrapped up in each other.

X-Term attacks, and the whole team is taken out by the formerly captive mutant McCloud, a living cloud of gas who is able to knock them all out. Turns out he was able to contact X-Term with a smart refrigerator. It can send e-mails! The team is then rescued by Polaris and the mutant underground, but not before a semi-conscious Oskar gets pushed out of a helicopter and falls to his death.

Cecilia is devastated, and I'd take all this a little more seriously if we didn't have panels like the one above with their relationship reduced to a sappy "John! Marsha!" thing. This issue was advertised as the "Someone DIES!" issue, and I'm glad it was the glorified extra who just joined the book, and not one of the long established characters that I actually like (still miffed about Rusty and Feral).

Next issue we get the fallout. Frenzy admits to having tipped off the mutant underground (a separate group from X-Term) to their location, and the general orders her off the team:

Russell, WHAT is this "dog breeder" running gag that you are doing with Frenzy? Is it a deep cut to something in her history? I'm guessing that it's just supposed to be a random civilian job that she sees as a step-up from X-Factor, but it's not funny, and it makes no sense. Again, last time we saw Frenzy before the Fall of Krakoa, she was acting as an intergalactic diplomat with SWORD, and got elected to the newest X-Men team (which immediately got obliterated by Nimrod, but still). Frenzy's "I'm too good for X-Factor" fall-back job should not be dog-breeder, she's done way more than that, and recently.

Darkstar, as the captured leader of X-Term, is just comically evil now. Darkstar fans, I'm so sorry about what they did to your girl.

This issue takes place immediately after the last issue, so Cecilia is still reeling from Oskar's death, and there's a genuinely nice moment with Pyro trying to comfort her. I'll give Russel credit for this scene:

Despite the "funny" panels of Oskar and Cecilia together last issue, Cecilia's grief is at least taken seriously.

The general barges in and demands they start tracking down other members of X-Term, but Pyro and Havok are not having it, so soon after losing a member. Even Havok stands up for Cecilia here, good for him.

Pyro threatening someone with fire is at least in-character for him (he does it last issue, too). At this point, though, I'm not sure how Russell can justify anyone staying on the team next issue. The general just blatantly admitted that the whole "point" of X-Factor is to "kill a few of you while taking credit for helping you!" Like this isn't really satire anymore, it's one of those clumsy political cartoons where a money-guzzling pig has an arrow pointing at it with the label "The Government." At any rate, Havok appears to be walking out, Pyro and Cecilia seem ready to quit, and Joanna already got "fired." Next issue Angel comes back and we get into the Doom event, so I'm assuming that the team will reassemble for the "worthy" cause of taking down Doom.

I think these issues were slightly better than the previous ones, at least there is some sense of plot, and a good moment for Pyro. There is also a twist to the main overarching plot at the end, but it doesn't involve any of my faves, so I can't be bothered.

#x-factor #joanna cargill #cecilia reyes #st john allerdyce

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stardustonstage515 · 7 months ago

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Broken and Blue

To My Beloved Jack,

Just a few lines tonight—

How is my baby doing right now?

Today has been a hard day for me,

But I try to believe it’ll get better somehow.

It’s so quiet without your laughter, honey.

I sure wish I could have seen you today.

Maybe I can see you tomorrow.

Did you know I sobbed when they took you away?

I was so shocked,

I had to stop my car and cry.

A couple of policemen were concerned;

I looked funny with Maybelline streaming down my eyes.

I just said I was sad,

And they offered to take me home,

Which was very nice and all,

But I told them no.

Oh and by the way, I don’t know any new news,

Because nothing happens anymore.

Celebrities divorce and politicians fight—

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before.

Do you still think I'm still good-looking, honey?

Because now I am haggard and spent. Even Miss America would look haggard If she followed the pace that I went.

I have had the blues so bad all day,

I could lie right down and die.

But I know the moment your hand touches my face again,

I will feel fresh and new and bright.

Even when all my best years are spent,

I will always have your back.

You could be in there for life,

and I’d still be waiting, Jack.

Let’s see,

As of late, I’ve been looking for work.

Maybe at a cafe or bar or office—

Whatever will distract me from my hurt.

I swear I’m going crazy, honey.

As crazy as a nuthouse rat!

And for a moment,

I even wanted to shoot myself with your old .45 gat.

I can’t find a point in living, honey—

At least not without you.

So when you get this letter,

Please tell me what to do.

Sugar, if you’re good, you might get out sooner,

And then you’d have a clean slate.

When you come back home to me,

I know that you’ll go straight.

I sure do hate to write, sweetheart,

For I feel oh-so blue tonight.

But you must be feeling even worse, locked inside that rusty cell,

So I really hope you’re alright.

They expect me to be gay all the time;

Smiling as others do.

But I am drowned in my depression,

And my soul cries out for you.

Darling, I hope you always smile,

Because it kills me to see that look on your face.

Whenever I have to leave you,

It just makes me more compelled to stay.

The prison guards treated me real nicely,

Because they know I’ve suffered so.

The love of my life is trapped behind bars,

Which leaves me all alone.

Honey, I write books to you,

And only get back little notes.

But gee, how I love to get them—

I’ve memorized every word you wrote.

I might never be Cole Porter, dear,

But I’m trying to write you little rhymes.

You said you like to read them,

And that’s what makes it worth my time.

When you return to me someday, Though you haven’t a cent to give, I'll forgive all the hell that you’ve caused me And love you as long as I live.

People are calling you a crook,

And I can’t say I don’t agree,

But I think the greatest crime you ever committed

Was stealing my heart from me.

One of my girlfriends said, “Don't let him tell you he’ll reform; I’ve yet to know a man who’s gone back.

There is no hope left for him;

He has already lost the track.”

You may be a criminal, Jackie,

But you’re my other half.

You can always make me smile,

And my God, you make me laugh.

Betty asked if I still write to you,

And I said, “Of course I do!”

Then she asked me why,

And I told her it’s because I love you through and through.

Nothing can ever change that,

No matter what you do.

You could commit murder and yet,

Heaven knows I’d still be here for you.

Margaret told me I was crazy, Because it’d been months since you’d gone away. But I smiled at her and said, “He will be back some day.”

Oh, my dear, sweet Jack—

I’d trade places any day.

That way you can go enjoy your life

While I slowly waste away.

A man can break any law, And world will still open up its door.

Yet a girl who has loved unwisely—

Well, she is forever labeled a whore.

Why did you have to get yourself into this situation?

It’s so unfair to me.

Your mother and I are trying to get your sentence shortened

So that in six years, you can go free.

I never did mean to love you,

But you can’t control who you love, as I’ve heard it said.

It’s such a simple truth,

But we womenfolk can’t seem to get it into our heads.

Well, baby, what more is there for me to say here?

You already know I love you more than anything on earth.

Unfortunately, it seems to me that there’s nothing of interest to you in this letter,

Because I don’t think my ramblings have much worth.

I hope I feel different tomorrow;

It’d be nice to feel a little better.

It’s not so much to ask—

And perhaps then, I can write a sensible letter.

Tell all the other inmates hello,

And not to be discouraged.

Someday, when those jailbirds get out again,

I have faith that they will flourish.

You could get a job in the city,

Assuming we live there still.

Everyone else might forget about you,

But you can bet I never will.

The outside world is a swell place,

And I will prove it to you someday.

I wish we could just be happy,

Like the other boys and girls our age.

Try not to worry, my love;

I do enough of that for us both.

And please don’t be mad about what I said at your trial—

I’m not about to lie under oath.

I’m just going to patiently grow into an old woman,

Friendless and tired of living—

Until the day you get out,

And we can have our fresh beginning.

Please don’t consider this letter preaching,

And do pardon my mistakes.

But if you’re not going change once your sentence is over, tell me,

So that I can simply head to the graveyard and wait.

In the end, crime is a losing game,

And I wish you’d never played.

You’re not cut out to be any tough old gangster or dirty convict—

Why, you’re just a poor kid who needs some aid.

I intended to write you a short letter,

But you probably need something to pass the hours away.

I will try to see you soon, babe.

I miss you more and more each day.

I can’t afford to visit too often,

But I promise I’ll come when I can.

I know it sounds pathetic, hon,

But you’ll always be my man.

It’s only sixteen years to serve, sugar—

Then we can be together.

We can get married in the old church,

And we’ll have our own little forever.

This is like a weary winter

Which me must get through to see the spring.

For the woods are always bare and cold

Right before the bluebirds sing.

Well, we all wish you the best of luck,

And think that happiness will come in time.

And, sugar, no matter what,

Know that you’re always on my mind.

While skies may look gray without you,

I know they’ll again be blue and bright.

And after you’ve done your time,

I’ll cling to you like the stars to the night.

Well, I don’t have anything left to say.

In fact, I’ve said too much.

I think I’ll hit the hay,

And probably dream about your touch.

I miss you and I love you,

And I hope to see you soon.

—From your lonesome baby,

Who is all tired and broken and blue.

Written by me, probably 2020. Inspired mainly by letters Blanche Caldwell Barrow sent to Marvin “Buck” Barrow and a few letters and poems by Bonnie Parker (of Bonnie and Clyde). Phrases or anecdotes come from them directly and the style is very similar. I love Bonnie’s poems. Hence the 1930s dialect.

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lampmanliveblogs · 2 years ago

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Nevermind, the kids are happy, so I’m happy!

But jeez Luise Gus, you’re not even trying to be subtle about it anymore, huh?

You just know that if Gus wasn’t trying to out/support Hunter, he’d insist on going dressed as a normal human. And when people would ask him about his costume, he’d be like: ”I’m dressed as a completely regular, ordinary, normal human!” and they’d be like ”Whoa dude, that is scary.”

”Funny how things just show up in basements, right? Without you hiding or you putting them there. Life sure is full of surprises!”

And on tonight’s episode of ”Things that can be said by moms with secret nerdy hobbies, or serial killers…”

I guess those Not-Star Trek books really were Camila’s, huh? We got ourselves a closet nerd here!

I kinda get it though. I hate it when people ask me what my hobbies are or what I do on my free time. Because if I answer truthfully and say that I like to write, they’ll inevitably ask what it is I write, and then I’ll have to explain what fanfiction is, and there is just no un-awkward way to explain that to someone who doesn’t know.

Which is why my new tactic is to say ”I guess I like to write stories, like adventure stories. Oh, and I also like to bake!” and hope they focus on the baking part. The downside to that is when they respond with ”Oh, you’re good at baking? You should be on one of those baking shows on TV then!” and I’m like ”No, I didn’t say I was good at it!”

Another tactic is to mention that I have a (this) blog where I talk about cartoons. Most people seem to understand that, even if they don’t ”get it.”

Now, to be fair, they’re probably as interested in hearing me talk about my favorite cartoon as I am hearing them talk about their favorite football teams: not at all.

Speaking of explaining fanfiction though, I do remember in high school, we had this book on literature history. It had a (very) brief blurb on fanfiction with a picture of Lara Croft next to it? For some reason? I recall the teacher skipping over it so we could talk about ancient Greece or something.

I’m sorry, I started rambling there, what was I doing? Right, watching The Owl House, I’m a bit rusty, as you can tell. Let’s get on with it.

Let’s see, we’ve got a Nontendo Swap, what might be either a DVD box set or a VHS tape (ask your parents, kids) called Rage Ron, another VHS tape called… Jen or maybe Den? I think? I’m no good at reading cursive. I can also see that someone let their intrusive thoughts win and took a bite out of a DVD. Which of the kids do you think it was?

Hold up a second… does the bad guy(?) in the movie have a scar over their eye? Like Luz? I also notice Bad Guy(?) wears multi-colored clothes like Luz did at Hexside, and the tip of their staff kinda looks like an egg, like Luz’ palisman currently does. That… feels like it might be significant, especially considering the movie is called ”The Betrayening.”

And on tonight’s edition of ”If The Lampman had just waited a few more seconds…” the show explained it to me.

Villainous Lucy (GET IT?!?) betrayed their friends and now everyone is gone. Villainous Luzy says it was for ”the greater good.”

So, obviously, Luz feels like she let down her friends, betrayed them in a sense, and now everyone in the Demon Realm is lost to them.

The thing that’s interesting to me though is that Villainous Luzy says it was ”for the greater good.” That phrase… doesn’t really describe Luz, I think? I mean yeah, her motivation is to do good and help people and save the world and all that. Certainly, a greater good. But the phrase ”for the greater good” is almost exclusively brought up when someone wants to justify an evil action. You see it in villains all the time. They’re looking at ”the big picture” and find that they can justify atrocities for what is (in their mind at least) a greater end result.

To use one famous example from pop-culture, Ozymandias from Watchmen. His big masterplan would kill millions of people… to bring peace to billions, by preventing the impending nuclear war between the US and the Soviet Union.

My point is (and follow me here, I swear it makes sense), ”for the greater good” is not a phrase I would associate with Luz. But… there is a character that I would associate with that phrase. Someone who has a facial scar, a magic staff with a ball-shape, and betrayed someone close to them.

Philip.

I’m not sure where it’s all going but… Y’all remember that fanfic I wrote after Clouds on the Horizon? All that’s at stake, which you can read HERE. Well, to quote myself:

”I-I hate you,” Luz said slowly, her voice as shaky as her legs. Those words were like poison on her lips. They hurt her more than anyone else. ”We are nothing alike. And I don’t want to be anything like you. Not in any way.”

Hey, kinda random, but I just remembered back in Yesterday’s Lie, I theorized that Vee slept in the bottom bunk and Luz in the top bunk.

WELL. Actually, this doesn’t prove anything, I could still be right. Luz switched to the bottom bunk to be at level with Amity.

I do think it’s weird that Vee is lying on her back. That cannot be comfortable, right? I was even thinking of making another Vee headcanons post, where one of the new headcanons was that sleeping on their backs was uncomfortable for basilisks. I guess this smashes that to pieces.

Tag yourself, I’m Luz. I’ve slept next to walls my entire life, I’m not about to stop now. Also, we both have horrendous sleep schedules. Most of the time I’m fine, but if I get just a little off-centre then I’m out of tune for the next month.

#the owl house #liveblog #the owl house liveblog #toh s3e1 #thanks to them

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antimonasia · 2 years ago

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Sandor Clegane x Reader Fic (Size Difference)

This is fic is not mine, but of @hightowhxre, who's blog I cannot access anymore

"𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓈 𝓌𝑒 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝑔𝑒𝓉 (𝒿𝓊𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹)"

lyrics from 'Midnight Rain' by Taylor Swift

(A/N): hello there lovely,

first of all, thank you for sending this request and I hope I was able to make good of it, as I am a bit rusty in writing smutty, but this was funny; also I hope you didn't mind that I combined this with another request I received!

“i don’t care, to me you’re perfect!” w/ sandor clegane?

(also very funny story: me at sixteen reading over and over Sansa's chapters to read about Sandor 'oh I hoe this doesn't awaken something in me'

me now at twenty-four with a thing for older men with a gruffy exterior and trauma 'oh fuck, it did').

as always: any feedback is welcomed.

WARNINGS: attempted sexual assault (not Sandor), fem! reader is mute (there are still consent checks because it is as it should be but they aren't verbal), slight mention of emotional manipulation (not Sandor), slight angst (cheating but they aren't together, so more like believed unrequited love, but it is very requited the fucker is just a self-pitying idiot), oral sex (female receiving), fingering, sex (p in v), dirty talk (and a lot of curses), slight degradation - praise kink, belly bulge and size kink.

They said that outcasts have a special nose for each other.

And maybe that was how you and the Hound ended up being so close, together.

You thought, the fact that he was dubbed the Hound, was quite ridiculous in all honesty as it made little to no sense to you to call him a dog, when he bore such little resemblance with the animal in question.

To you, he looked more like a brownish bear with his large stance and his imposing height.

And the terrible grunts he released as you met him the first time after you had been charged with the harsh and hated task of delivering to him his clean clothes.

It was almost a rite of consecration to the order of the servants at the Red Keep and you were the newest entry as you had come after the birth of princess Myrcella to help queen Cersei.

‘Knock on his door and be swift to leave the clothes or he’ll eat you alive’ some older laundry girl had scared youwhile the gentle cook that had taken you under her wing had reassured you that the Hound was all bark and no bite.

He certainly barked as you were stuck a moment too long, deep in your thoughts of that man eating small servants like.

You had promptly been awake as you shoved the clothes into his chest with enough strength – and probably surprise – to have the man back away.

‘Don’t tell me they sent a newbie’ he cursed as you lowered your head promptly ‘… don’t tell me girl that you were nervous to meet the old dog? Poor little dearie weren’t they cruel to send out such an unprepared lady?’.

You were mute – since birth – but even if you had had your voice, you wouldn’t have answered his taunting and not simply because he was indeed scary, but also because he ranked much higher than you and you didn’t intend to get into trouble with the crown who had just hired you.

‘Don’t you speak, girlie?’ his tone was growing restless as if he didn’t enjoy the lack of reaction that you were having ‘… don’t tell me that my ugliness has rendered you mute?’.

It wasn’t the taunt that got you to reply but more the tint of sadness in his tone, as if he truly believed the jest, he spoke that got you to shake your head lightly, before pushing a finger to your throat and as much as he was criticized for being nothing but a dog, he understood promptly what you meant.

‘Oh’.

His face softened for a bit, and you could look a scar on the side of his face as you thought about how painful it had been to have such a huge memory of somebody’s cruelty.

His brother had the rumors been true.

‘… a little mute girl’.

The shiver that went down your spine wasn’t out of fear as you finally diverged your eyes away from his scar the moment that he finally made you aware that he didn’t appreciate such staring.

‘… at least you won’t speak to anybody of this, will you, girl?’.

At that it took everything in you not to raise an eyebrow in annoyance at him, and even in that case you didn’t succeed fully as a small smirk appeared on his face before he closed the door right in your face, his clothes in his arms and this strange sensation that warmed your chest.

When the girls back in the laundry asked you how scared you had been of the hound, you just shook your head and fell beside Ylenia, the cook, asking whether you could help with anything, as your mind seemed broken.

And the curse of the Hound seemed to continue the following day.

And the one after.

Whenever you’d be in a room together, you felt his amber eyes onto you and the moment that you’d turn to catch him in the act, he would be looking anywhere but you. although a pensive smirk was fixed onto his lips, as if this was a game between you.

A game that came to a halt the night that you thought yourself safe enough to walk through the Red Keep.

At night.

Alone.

You hadn’t been able to sleep, something about the full moon rendering you restless and if you weren’t wrong Ylenia would be in the kitchens, so you had thought to reach them and stand by her; had you been lucky, she’d have a cup of tea for you and some stale pastry from the days before.

You had noticed them following you the moment that you had taken a particularly swift turn, and you had just prayed it had been a coincidence.

But how could the gods hear you when your voice wasn’t there?

They got closer and closer.

But so did the kitchens.

Just a few steps and you’d be…

The taller guard caught onto your arm and turned you roughly enough to make you feel ditzy while the gaunter one pinned you against the wall by your other arm and the third one, a man with a stale breath of his own pushed himself between your legs.

“We were lucky, brothers” he spoke making you want to vomit as you tried to breathe through your mouth and not your nose, not to further inhale the toxic scent of his mouth “… a pretty one, ain’t she”.

“Ain’t she the mute girl?” you fought against the grip of the man that was holding you, but it held little solution to her problem as he was stronger than you “… she won’t be screaming for us”.

“Who cares about fucking screams?!”.

The first one relented his grip onto your arm the moment that the one with the smelly breath had pushed a hand onto your chest, both to grope you and make you stay seated where they wanted you.

“… I just care whether her cunt is tight enou…”.

“I thought it’d be you, fuckers”.

The voice froze you as you thought about how cruel the gods could be.

The Hound was an impressive man in just his clothes, and he had just appeared in his full armor.

Dirtied by blood that seemed like cherry wine.

“Sandor” ‘Smelly Breath’ spoke, and it caught you off guard as you don’t think that you had heard anybody call him anything but ‘the Hound’.

And yet these were probably his friends and fellow soldiers, so it made little sense for them to be formal.

“… have you come to join the party, haven’t you”.

The thought filled you with much more dread than the thought of those three men using you for their filthy needs, but the moment that Sandor moved close to them, you realized that he had just unsheathed his sword and the grip on your arms had loosened enough for you to escape it.

‘Smelly Breath’, still, remained a problem as he pushed you back against the wall.

You moaned in pain at such an action as he hissed to you to ‘cease fucking moving’.

“We could give you the first round” the taller one who had been slowly distance himself from the scene offered, as he eyed attentively the sword in his hands “… you are the oldest among us, it’s only right…”.

“It’s only right that you leave her alone” it was final, and as close as to an order than he’d have ever come to “… get a fucking whore from one of Littlefinger’s brothels”.

“What if we want this?” ‘Smelly Breath’ seemed the head of the group and the most daring, as his fingers dug into your skin, and you were sure there’d be bruises by tomorrow.

“She is a mute”.

You tried not to scream at the obvious fact that Sandor entailed with such a phrase that you were flawed because you couldn’t speak.

“You can tell that a woman enjoys herself even when she doesn’t speak”.

“I don’t think that you have ever fucked a woman properly since you first became aware of your cock, Hitan”.

Sandor’s reprimand made Hitan’s mates laugh as the man grew purplish and his grip tightened further enough to make you hiss with no sound.

But Sandor saw the discomfort written on your face.

“Get to your fucking beds” he ordered, although you doubted that he was above any of them, although he was an impressive knight for sure “… tomorrow will fuck you up, even more if you are as shit as I remember at handling wine”.

“Don’t spoil our fun, Sandor” the man whose hands had been onto her arm spoke, although he didn’t dare to look at the bigger man in the eyes “… just because your fucking cock doesn’t get hard for pretty girls, it doesn’t mean ours don’t and it has been too long”.

“Then you’ll fucking lose that cock, tonight” and just like that his sword pointed right to the man’s little friend.

It was enough to have him back away which was as far as he’d have come with an admission of having given up.

Hitan also didn’t seem so happy to continue as he swiftly released her from his grip with one last shove against the wall and a muttered ‘fucking bitch and cockblock’.

The third one just ran after his companions.

It would have been almost comical, hadn’t you still been reeling from what had just happened.

You didn’t detach from the wall till, you felt a gentle but strong hand onto your arm and although the touch was attentive, you still answered in defense, bringing the arm to yourself, and slumping against the wall as if to become one with it.

“I won’t hurt you, girl”.

his voice was gruff, but it sounded sincere, and you strangely trusted him after he had wrestled you away from those three men, if they could be called that.

“… although I would rather be interested into knowing what the fuck you were thinking about wandering the Keep alone, at this cunt of an hour”.

You moved gently a hand in the direction of the kitchens and then mimed the act of drinking tea.

“Fucking hells” Sandor commented as he offered his hand to you – this time he made sure to hold it in front of you, so you’d see him – and gently but strongly brought you back to your feet “… you aren’t only a mute, but also a fucking idiot”.

You sent him a glare that got him at least to lower his head as he let out a laugh.

Your hands stayed joined as he escorted you back to your room.

‘Don’t fucking care if I need to lock you up, you are staying fucking inside, alright?’ it should have sounded like a threat but it wasn’t and you pushed down your heels, almost like a child at the denial of your nightly drink, but there was little resistance that you could offer to a man twice your size and with violence written all across his body ‘… fuckers would have ripped right through you’.

You grimaced at such an image and did lock yourself back into the communal room you shared with the other girls that worked with you, none the wiser to your absence as they all slept soundly through the exhaustion.

Unlike you.

It wasn’t anymore the restlessness that you had felt before mixed with the almost assault that you had just risked, but there was something that burned and hurt in the hands that Sandor had hold, so strangely delicately that it had no reason to pulse with pain.

Unless it was signaling the fact that it longed for its own match, Sandor’s own hand.

You thought that it’d have been an awful night, but then three knocks – quite in succession and not strong enough to wake up anybody but the lightest of sleepers – came and as you rushed to see whether anybody was summoning you, a small tray with a cup in it, still steaming and smelling of herbs that brought you good dreams.

Sandor was smiling in each of them.

Since that night, your relationship with Sandor had grown into a more explicit one, with him accepting only you for his tasks that required a servant and with your eyes boldly settling onto him every time you could, never getting enough of him.

The other girls that worked with you thought you stupid and a dreamer, but you knew what truly went on as Sandor sat beside you on slow days when you were summoned to his room.

It was always a small piece of parchment and a thick piece of charcoal to talk with him apart from gestures.

‘You can’t speak but you can write?’ he had first laughed as you had explained to him that had he given you a piece of paper and something to write with, you’d have been able to communicate better than through charades ‘… gods, you are fucking weird’.

The septa at the orphanage had taken pity with you and while the others chatted through the small moments of happiness, you stayed behind to learn the shape of letters; when you had told that to Sandor, he had had this strange expression on his face, sadness mixed with the violence that characterized him.

‘Lonely childhood’ he had commented as he slapped his thighs ‘… we have that in common, weirdo’.

If he was the Hound, soon people had taken to call you puppy.

And his bitch, but more secretly for Sandor had once broken the hand – and all the fingers – of a drunken man that had shot it on your face while you were serving the knights at a feast.

And it wasn’t always violence that came with Sandor, but also a wicked sense of humor and a smart intelligence that brought him to be the sole one that understood you immediately.

Maybe it was the fact that you were both outcasts that you knew each other so well.

Or maybe it was the fact that you were fated.

That night you had decided to confront this hypothesis.

You had to admit that you had been slightly drunk; queen Cersei had received a commission of wine, she didn’t particularly enjoy and sent it to the kitchens as ‘it might not be up to her tastes, but it wasn’t to be wasted’.

‘She might have poisoned it’ Ylenia had joked, making all the younger girls spit it back, as she took a swing of it ‘… oh gods, don’t be so uptight! At least if we die, we with good wine in our belly, which is much more than dying starving and exhausted!’.

To you it had just seemed like second nature to give some to Sandor, to run to his chambers with heated cheeks and a dumb smile to make him taste that precious nectar, although he probably tasted it daily as he might not be fully a knight, but he was above you.

Still, what little of good you owned, it went to Sandor.

And maybe you were indeed his puppy following him and you didn’t mind it when his eyes were onto you all too proud and swift while his cheeks flustered red.

And your own grew redder the moment that you came close to Sandor’s room, hearing exaggerated female moans but also clearly male grunts that belonged to the same man that you had been hounding desperately in those months, believing that you were special to him.

That his lack of cruelty for you meant that he held something for you.

Instead, here he was with a common whore.

The wine in the chalice you had brought to him, spilled onto your dress in your haste to go back and be consoled by Ylenia, who was kind but stern as she reminded you that:

‘Dogs were animals after all’.

That’s how you finished your dilly-dallying with a man that you by now knew that you’d never have, as you blushed thinking about how foolish you had been; from then on, your gaze never met Sandor and you switched with the other girls your turns, offering them money and your food for that task.

In a few weeks, he had gotten the hint and he left you alone.

It took much less resistance than you thought and you tried not to have it hurt as much as it felt, as you focused into your work and there was so much work with the queen’s new child’s arrival, enough that you misplaced the sole precious possession that you owned: a brass bracelet that the septa that had taught you how to read had left you after her death.

It was a little thing of no beauty but of comfort to you, and the day that you came back from a long shift, it was nowhere to be seen and while you questioned aggressively everyone about where it had gone, nobody gave you an answer, insisting that nobody would have stolen it for the little value that it had.

First you lost Sandor – not that he had ever been yours – and now the bracelet that had been your sole possession.

Gods, if you felt lost at the Keep.

Thankfully still the bracelet was just a simple object, hence it could be returned, and it was returned to you by one of the delivery boys, Jason, who brought it to you with a happy smile and received many thanks.

In all truth, he had been kind with you and asked for nothing but a walk for his gesture, one that wasn’t uncomfortable or felt particularly awful, but neither had the spark that the ones you had been on with Sandor, trailing after him as he moved faster.

Still, Jason was nice, good to you and a perfect gentleman.

All the girls in her dormitory swooned over him and he had brought you what little preciousness you held dear to her heart.

He kissed you in a hallway, a bit forceful: his hands searched beneath you dress as you felt again back to that night with the smelly breath and probing hands.

But it was Jason, he was perfect and sweet and…

‘What the fucking are you fucking doing, boy?’.

You kept your eyes closed as you thought this was a dream, as Sandor had taken onto avoiding you as you did with him, so it made no sense for him to be there.

‘… it’s a fucking hallway not a brothel’.

You tried not to be insulted by the implication as you opened your eyes to send Sandor a glare, more out habit than anything else, and realized he was there, handsome in his cloak and armor.

Even his ugly scar was a detail that you missed.

‘I and the lady were just too eager’ and although you had wanted to kiss Jason, you didn’t like his tone.

And neither did Sandor.

“The fucking lady is coming with me” and just like that he crossed over to Jason and took your hand, again, as he had done that night and again you felt that relief at being joined together “… scram off, you cunt”.

Jason looked like he wanted to fight, but what little could he do with a mountain of muscles?

Hence, he – indeed – scram off and Sandor turned to you and while you had expected him to avoid you quickly, his gaze was settled onto you heavy and angry.

“I don’t want you around that fucking idiot, anymore, alright?”.

You didn’t have your usual piece of parchment so, you couldn’t tell him that he wasn’t your father, your husband, or your master so you simply flipped him off and moved to get in the direction of where Jason had gone.

But Sandor stopped you, again.

“He isn’t fucking good for you, girlie” he spat again, as she levelled him another stare “… fucking glare all you fucking want, but hadn’t he thought your tits were pretty, he’d have sold your fucking bracelet to the first person he saw”.

Your eyes went wide open as you realized that Sandor knew something you didn’t.

And that he hadn’t meant to tell it to you, as he his eyes found the floor, almost ashamed.

You promptly tugged onto his sleeve, as if to tell him not to leave you like this.

And as much as he didn’t hold you in his heart like you did in your own, he gave you the truth.

At least you could count on him for that.

“Heard it as we rounded up a small band of thief” he commented swiftly and gruffly as he released your hand “… said he fucking stole it from one of the servant girls… the cute mute one with the…”.

He scratched his head, and you couldn’t believe that for a man that enjoyed his own whore, he couldn’t report what vulgar thing Jason had said about you.

“… he said that had he given it back to you, he might have seen…” again that loss for words, that reticence as if you hadn’t learned early on your life all the terrible shit men could spat and you mouthed the word, he was missing him, as a light dust of red appeared on his cheeks “… yes…”.

And it did hurt – not as much as Sandor’s betrayal – but it did hurt.

“Let me accompany you in your rooms” Sandor spoke almost pleadingly “… fucker might corner you again and I’d be rather happy to deck him across the face…”.

You promptly shook your head, feeling as vulnerable as fucking ever and not wishing for the company of the man that had broken you first, but as you lowered your eyes and put your face in between your shoulders, it was a rough hand that brought your chin up.

“What have I done, little girl?” he spoke as if he knew that there was something.

As if he felt it.

“You are all chatty and fucking smiley for weeks with me and then fuck off with a bastard who doesn’t deserve you”hadn’t you know against it; you’d have said that he was begging for you “... what did this old dog to make you so pissed?”.

You shook your head, turning it away from him, even though his tight grip.

“Don’t tell me that you fucking finally realized that you deserve better than me”.

It was meant to be a joke, but it held some strange lingering sadness that got you to look up at him, almost pained by what he didn’t let be said in his eyes.

And slowly you shook your head as if to get the point across.

“Well, you should fucking have” he spoke, and you hated the patronizing way in which he always seemed to know what was better for you, while he ruined himself for fucking nothing “… c’mon, let me fucking accompany you to your rooms”.

And before he knew it, you fucking took off and this time he wasn’t fast enough to grab onto you, although he did chase after you and you felt almost girlish in running fast as he ran after you weighted in his full armor, as if you were an hare running away from an hunter.

What a silly spectacle you might have made for those that might come in the empty hallway.

You were having enough fun till you were shoved onto the wall, although this time much more gently than when it had happened with the three soldiers that had cornered you late at night and you felt the deep thrill that you hadn’t felt when Jason had been kissing you so passionately, right as Sandor’s hand went to your sides to hold you in place, while his hips dug your back further into the uncomfortable brick patterns on the walls.

“What’s your fucking problem?” he spoke slurred as if he had been drinking although his breath didn’t smell in any way like ale “… you are more trouble than what you are fucking worth it”.

Was that way then he preferred whores to you?

They were easy: you paid them, you screwed them and then they were out.

“Screw you” you mouthed back at him, as you tried to – again – escape his grip.

“I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you, little shitstain” he spoke as his eyes were inevitably glued onto you, or better a specific part, your lips “… and the worst is that I don’t fucking know what to do with myself when it comes to you”.

And before you knew it, his lips had crashed onto you, with a savagery that got you thinking that Sandor wasn’t holding back.

And that you enjoyed it.

Your hands moved away and tangled loosely around his neck, while you didn’t know what it was, but you jumped up exactly the moment that Sandor’s hands moved onto your thighs, perfectly hosting you up as two circus exhibitioners who had tried this move over and over.

If you had thought that you were uncomfortable against the wall before, you had been painfully wrong, as now your breath was stolen not only by his lips but by the way his chest pressed against yours, thick metals against the soft cotton of your serving dress, not enough thick to protect you from the sensation burning into your stomach.

And still, when he retracted you tried to bring him onto you again, hissing and whining with what little expression you had left as you kept your eyes closed not wanting to wake up if this was a dream.

“Now you fucking understand what will happen if you fucking toy with me?” he spoke, breathless and it filled you with pride that you had reduced him to such a state “… I am not like fucking Jason or what the fucking… I won’t slip my fucking hand between your gowns and mess around lazily like a fucker. I’d fucking fuck you against this wall, if given the chance”.

And at that you opened your eyes, looking at Sandor with a gaze that clearly said:

‘Then, why don’t you?’.

He staggered back, almost forgetting that you came with him, surprised by the fact that your chests didn’t detach, that you didn’t fall to the ground horridly, and instead came onto him like something attached to him.

“You don’t fucking want what I can give to you, little one”.

You wished desperately for your usual piece of parchment, but when you had come after Jason, you hadn’t had it, and yet you couldn’t waste the occasion. Not when Sandor looked so conflicted.

So, you simply did what he had done to you before, pressing your lips against his with insecurity as you hadn’t kissed many and there was something different from the playful kisses you had exchanged with your friends to the one you pressed onto his lips, as it was this that would have brought the final decision.

That would have told him that you fucking wanted whatever he’d give you.

Whether it’d be his lips, his hard cock that rubbed against your stomach or his heart.

You didn’t have a specific preference, not when you wanted him as yours.

Just for one night.

You were addicted onto the promise of what he brought to you with his rugged lips and strong hands.

He detached clumsily and when he dropped you, you were sure that you had lost it, till his hands tangled with you own much more shyly than when he had kissed you so eagerly and you knew that somehow you had him.

For your own.

“I am fucking hard and it is all your fault” never any words had sound any sweeter “… fucking Seven Hells! I was about to take you against a wall…”.

And he turned to you with a smirk that sent something dark shivering down your back.

“… and you’d have let me”.

You had at least the decency to feel heat on your cheeks as he brought you along by the hand – warm and calloused – into his rooms, ascertaining himself that nobody was there before he pushed you inside and while you expected – and wanted – his hands onto you again, you were practically shoved onto the chair at the small table where he usually consumed his meals.

Papers and pen were immediately sufficed to you and while you had thought to avoid this, Sandor looked at you with enough anger to make you smirk.

“You explain yourself, alright?”.

And you had promptly written back:

‘Then are you going to fuck me?’.

It was strange to see such a huge man blush at your wording.

“You wouldn’t have all this fucking boldness if you could speak, little shit” he shot back, as he brought back the paper to you “… and maybe. You know… you kind of left me offended… thought the dog was too fucking old for you and had to chase after some of the younger fucking bitches, all yapping to you?”.

You shouldn’t have felt his jealousy that hard, but you did as a special kind of throbbing started right in between your thighs.

‘You were the first one to replace me’ and you did have a bit of shame for yourself as you added ‘… I heard you with the whore’.

And Sandor at first looked surprised and confused and then realization settled onto him, as one his hand gently threaded into your hair.

“Don’t tell me you were jealousy, pretty?” he taunted you like an idiot “… oh gods, my little silly girl…”.

‘Fuck you, Sandor’.

“It’s the opposite, sweetheart” he made you again flustered, as he lowered himself till they were face-to-face “… don’t you fucking understand that I have needs? Needs that I can’t push onto pretty little girls like you, because you’ll break”.

‘I won’t break’ you wrote back, straightening your back and raising your head but most importantly making sure to look at him as to let him know that you weren’t scared of him.

Not now, not ever.

And he looked taken aback, unable to hide the way his eyes widened before he shook his head lightly.

“We shall see” and like that he gently raised you up by the chair, holding out a hand to you “… although don’t think that you get any bonuses just because you are you”.

And your gaze seemed to almost say ‘I’d never ask for such a thing’ as your back found the bed and his lips your own.

He was strangely gentle for a man that just threatened to break you, and never like in that moment you regretted not having your voice, as you’d have moaned his name over and over every time his lips left your own, as you were worried, he’d change his mind each time he left you.

So, you only chased after him, till his hands again held you down by your sides and he had this wicked expression on his face that got you to feel the rush of adrenaline all through you.

“You were so fucking silly” he spoke as he looked at you, while your bag duck into the soft plushness of the mattress “… to be jealous of me, when we aren’t nothing for each other”.

Again, you wished to have a voice to tell him that he was mean for denying something that was very much between you, so you just levelled him a stare that said it and hoped he’d get the message.

“You are so smart” he continued as his hands gently raised through your sides to your ribcage and onto the sleeves of your dress “… too smart to fucking chase after an old dog like me”.

And just like that your dress was ripped apart and you silently screeched at the show of strength while Sandor went to lap onto all the naked skin that was revealed onto him, at first kissing it and then biting where it was the softest as you brought your hands onto your back, digging your nails in the metal of your armor.

He wasn’t as cruel as he had promised, but he was relentless.

He made sure to mark you and there was something inherently arousing in the knowledge that he could have made you take everything from him.

And you’d have gladly accepted it.

“A pity you can’t speak, although that cunt of Hitan was right” and all too soon his hands slipped into the rip of your dress to your smallclothes, lightly ghosting over your clothed mound and finding it drenched “… you can tell when you are doing a good job with a woman, even if she doesn’t scream”.

You had expected him to rip away the rest of your dress, move aside your small clothes and dive inside of you.

You had hoped, but instead his hand had gently retreated, and he had moved onto kissing you again tenderly, brushing away the hair from your face to see wholly your face, while his own was hidden beneath his locks, and you had an inkling that he enjoyed it this way.

After all, you were mostly undressed in front of him, while he was still in his armor.

The coldness of the armor felt almost like a relief on your heated skin.

“You shouldn’t fucking lust after an old dog like me” he breathed out on your lips “… but I don’t want that cunt of Jason to have you… I don’t fucking want anybody to have you but me, and I am a fucking monster for that”.

It was as close to a declaration as it came and you moved up to gently kiss Sandor, in hopes he’d hear that you didn’t think he was a monster, as you wished the same; you wanted to have him, not nameless whores for a night. You wanted him for ever.

But right now, it wasn’t a question of time.

And you’d have avoided the talk.

“Still, if this isn’t something that you want, you better fucking say it” and realizing the mistake of his words, he added “… beat onto my chest one time to tell me to continue and a second and I’ll have you sent back to your rooms, no fucking expectation”.

He waited for the second beat on his chest after your first, and when he realized it wouldn’t have come, he looked at you like you were somehow crazy and a miracle at the same time and then he raised up to kiss you, desperately and urgently.

“The beats on my chest are valid also now” he spoke as he seemed not to get enough of your lips, while you giggled against him “… one is for ‘continue fucking me, Clegane’, two is for me to stop, alright?”.

You giggled at him and nodded as you gently moved his hand onto his armor, wanting him to take it off, but he didn’t seem to listen to you as his hand dipped down into the gash on your dress and this time he didn’t simply caress you; he pushed aside the garments and swiped your own wetness for his own, making you huff and throw back your head against the pillows.

But nothing could have prepared you for when he brought your wetness to his lips and he sucked, looking at you hungrily and darkly.

“You are fucking sweet also down there” he commented, before his mouth latched onto one of your exposed nipples, and his hand went down to your garments, and onto your Venus’ mount “… fucking dogs like me are used to bones, not to fucking little girls who taste better than Arbor”.

You felt yourself grew heated in embarrassment at his bold words, and yet there wasn’t much left when his hands started to gently draw out patterns onto a part of you that you didn’t know existed but brought the most intense pleasure you had ever experience.

And Sandor, that fucker, knew it.

“… just a few rubs to your pretty pearl and you are already acting like a fucking whore” he spoke gently to your ear, although the words were cruel and they made you cry out silently “… maybe I should have been fucking you instead of those whores, you taste so wickedly and tremble so prettily”.

You cried out at the praise and your legs tightened around him, trying to keep him there and you almost choked out in pure fear as his hand moved away, brushing against your folds, before gently dipping inside.

“Can you stay without me for a few fucking minutes?” his voice was dark and not a request “… I want to fucking see whether you are as pretty down there as you are here”.

You hid your face into the crook of his shoulder and nodded, hearing Sandor smirk as he left behind a kiss on your cheek, a promise to come back, as he went lower down your body.

And you felt him, each kiss, each nip, as the tip of his finger separated her folds, and here you were exposed to him.

“Fuck” he spoke out in admiration “… the prettiest I have ever seen”.

Then something dark came onto him, as he dipped closer to where you ached the most and you closed your eyes, unable to hold such an image in your eyes.

“… and you were about to squander it with a boy that wouldn’t have gotten you to come” he spoke almost as if it was a reprimand “… fucking fucker. You don’t fucking need a boy, you need a man and although I am not the man for you, I’ll teach you fucking better”.

And just like that his tongue was covering all of yourself and you were crying out, squirming away at the sensation of him onto you, inside you and desperately against you.

“Just a lick and you are bashful?” he taunted you “… just you wait till I fuck you open on my finger, little girl”.

But he did wait before doing what he intended, and you realized that he meant to ask for your consent to have you utterly debauched and you didn’t know whether he did out of concern, or it was a power move onto you, but you still knocked against his chest one single time.

And yet, he didn’t spread you open but went to taste you as he fully removed your dress and now you were naked in front of him, a position that should have made you feel ashamed; but how could you when Sandor made you feel like a goddess at whose altar he was praying?

After all, wasn’t he on his knees, between your legs?

Although what he was doing was anything but holy.

You were surprised when you first felt his finger dip inside you and only then Sandor raised his face from his attentive work to have you loosened on his tongue to take in your expression as he seemed to check for any signs of discomfort, while he pushed inside his thick index, making you choke out softly and close your eyes.

It wasn’t uncomfortable, although it was a weird sensation you hadn’t felt before.

You felt full.

“… don’t tell me that you haven’t put your own fingers inside of yourself, little one” he cooed to you “… well, it wouldn’t matter, as they are fucking little compared to my own”.

And if those were his fingers, you couldn’t think about his cock.

His finger inside you stretched you to the point of discomfort, although his tongue kept on working circles through you, relaxing you enough that the tension of your walls moved into a more comfortable bliss as he started moving his finger in and out of you, lightly crooking it at times as if he was searching for something.

“… fucking hell, where the fuck is it?” he spoke to himself, and you pouted at him, digging your heels into his bag as a way to get him back to you, and pushing out your lips for a kiss “… I should have fucking foreseen that you were one of the fucking needy ones”.

But he did kiss you and added another finger.

Two fingers shouldn’t have been so different from one, but the stretch intensified and then fuck… he found what he was looking for.

“Does it feel good, little girl?” he taunted you, as he gently released the hold onto hat soft spot that got you seeing the stars “… don’t fucking tell me. You are drenching my hand and the sheet probably”.

He bullied that spot with an urgency that brought you to fucking screech with what little sound you had in your body, as your nails dug into what little skin you could feel through the armor.

“You are doing so well, girl” he spoke, almost cooing and although he meant to be teasing it just made you feel a whole lot better “… so pretty for me and my fucking fingers”.

And his tongue as he dipped down again, and it almost felt too much: the conjunction of his fingers and tongue brought you to feel your stomach tighten and then release slowly, oh so slowly as pleasure overcame you wholly and here you were desperately rutting against his bear as you pled with all your body for him to continue.

And to let you go.

Thankfully Sandor might be menacing but he was a giving lover and held you down as you shook a second time, wetting his beard with your juices this time and he laughed at that much to your embarrassment when he came up to kiss you.

“So shy for just a few times?” he teased her as he gently ghosted his lips over her own “… fucking virgins are always the easiest, aren’t they”.

You pounded lightly his back at that, although your legs inevitably brought him forward into you.

“Don’t tell me that you aren’t a fucking virgin” he teased again, although it had an hint of possessiveness, the slightest “… you certainly do fucking blush like one”.

Instead of further goading his teasing, you tugged against his armor, obviously asking him to take it off, but Sandor resisted you although he did move the lower part to help himself out of his breeches.

“A virgin and one that hasn’t ever seen a cock” he spat out as your eyes were so focused onto his own member, all red and veiny and deliciously big to the point that it low key scared you.

And aroused you.

Your hands moved to where he held it, and it wasn’t only pretty but also strangely silky in the touch, as it lightly twitched in your smaller hand, making Sandor curse out much to your satisfaction.

“… gods and fucking Seven Hells, don’t do that to a man” he protested, but he didn’t comment on the way you loosely started pumping him, up and down and again and again, as your instinct guided you, taking in any small expression on Sandor’s face “… oh gods, fucking… don’t make me come in your fucking hand like a shitstain on his first ride with a woman”.

You smirked at him, happy to have regained some power over him as you did detach from him but not before having lightly tightened your hold on his cock, just the softest pressure to have him hiss through his teeth, while you adjusted further on bed to allow him to sit as well.

It was only when he crowded onto you, standing on top of you with each arm by the sides of your face that you realized that it was going to happen.

That for all his talk, he was going to take you.

He was going to make you, his.

And yet, he seemed to wait, as his eyes moved onto you, his face still partially covered by his hair falling on his face to hide his scarred face and you desperately wanted to hold them back and tell him that you didn’t care, that he was perfect, scarred face, rough hands, and soft words just for you, as he waited for you to give him the one beat.

And you did so as you spread your legs for him, a bit bashful to offer yourself to him like a feast but any of his restraint broke at that and soon you felt that same smooth tip that had been in your hands moments before right against your pearl, rubbing in teasing circles.

“Just two times you have come, and you are already fucking drenching my cock” he gently bullied your hole with the type, bringing it upward and downward into you “… a man isn’t going to last long, you should know that”.

And like that he first breached you and you had to admit that the pain that you thought would have come, didn’t.

It was just a strange sensation of an intrusion not painful but not pleasurable as you opened your eyes to find a smirk on Sandor’s face as he pushed down to kiss you and pushed himself further into you.

There it started to hurt.

He was so big, and you were so fucking small.

And yet, the pain wasn’t unbearable, as he pushed himself into you to the point that you wondered just how far he could reach into you, just how far he could claim into your body as he fully sheathed into you with a grunt, his face falling onto the crook of your neck, and although he was the bigger one, you felt the control that came when your hands gently started threading through his hair.

“You are tight” no bold words to have you flustered “… indeed a fucking virgin and you are allowing me to take you. A fuckin dog, oh gods, fucking…”.

His hips dig into you and the first thrust left you breathless and immediately Sandor checked for you, almost as if he was worried for what he had done but you just smiled at him as you whined at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls as they molded around him.

You felt yourself clench and then relax, and then do it again as his thrusts became more present, and although they were slow, you felt his strength into you.

“So good” he breathed into your neck, littering it with a few soft kisses, as he seemed lost in the pleasure and you took that exact moment to look at what your joining looked like, curious to know whether it was as good as it felt, and you were surprised by one fact.

The way your stomach bulged every time he thrusted back inside you.

Fuck, it should have been grossing you out inevitably and instead you were fascinated by the way he let his claim into you; how he bullied your body to find his way home into you.

To slip himself inside of you further and further.

Whatever pain you had left was now behind as his hips started thrusting faster and faster and you couldn’t complain, not when the hand on your pearl started to match said rhythm and soon you were overstimulated by both the sensations: the primal one of his pushes into you and the soft pleasure of his stroking.

“I am so fucking close” he seemed almost to beg you for something “… I am going to fucking come like a virgin. I’ll fucking spill into you and that cunt of Jason won’t ever try to sneak his dirty hands inside your skirts”.

Before you knew it, you were now onto your stomach as Sandor had exited you to push himself as you laid with your face down, stomach to the mattress and your ass up like a bitch in heat; you would have complained, hadn’t the angle felt much better and his hand had much more freedom, while your nipples brushed against the coarse material of his bedding bringing even more stimulation.

You were done by this the moment that you felt him press himself wholly against you, his seed spilling into you with enough force that you felt it tickle down yourself, as he didn’t make a move to detach himself from you.

Oh no, not at all, as he instead pushed you further against his weight onto the mattress, and it felt all too much as the pressure proved to be grounding while you went through the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

The moment he realized that he was crashing you – not that you minded – he pushed to the side, effectively separating himself from you and the sensation was as awful as the coldness that hit you and for a moment you thought that it’d end up like this.

After all, Sandor had made it clearly: he wasn’t interested in you past that.

And yet, a few moments after his arms came around you.

“Sleep, then we can fetch a fucking septon” and at your confusion he added “… you need one for a fucking wedding, don’t you?”.

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