#i have never felt as valued and grateful for everything and by everyone i have in my life before this silly little blog

[huellitaa]

i giggle so hard whenever i see one of my posts on someone else's blog like omg..... i'm actually liked by people..... blushing rn

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (6/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: kissing, mutual masturbation, infidelity, smut, the angst, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Never before had the wooden ceiling of a bed seemed so interesting to her.

The Maester was trying to be gentle and his touch was respectful – she knew that, but still what he was doing, the fact that there were other people around behind the cream curtains made her tense, even though she knew the verdict would be one.

When the examination was finally completed she sighed quietly and swallowed hard, rising on her elbow – she lowered her skirt down thinking she wouldn't give them the satisfaction and cry – Maester's voice and what he said was like honey to her ears.

"She is a maiden, My King. I have no doubt."

A moment later, she heard the sound of a door opening and closing with a loud slam.

Prince Aemond gave everyone an expression of his fury at this obviously unfounded accusation.

She took a quiet breath as someone pulled aside one of the veils – the king's face seemed satisfied, as if not the end result but the fact that he had once again shown his brother who had the last word was his reward.

"I am relieved, dear cousin, that you have come to no harm under my brother's care. I hope you understand that in no way did I mean to offend you or undermine your virtue." He said lightly, knowing that she could not reply anything other than to confirm his certainly sincere and good intentions.

"I am grateful to you for your concern, Your Grace." She replied, looking him straight in the eye, to her surprise feeling neither bitterness nor regret.

This would at least cut off any further gossip about her and the tongue of the servant who had given her pleasure that day, as promised by the prince.

She guessed he would not leave it at that.

"I wish to see your dragon and judge for myself the value he will bring to the upcoming battles. I also want him to stay in the Dragon's Pit with the rest of the dragons and not with Vhagar." He said, and she nodded, knowing that there was no point in standing up.

This brother or another, what difference did it make.

"He is still wild and untamed, my King. Accustomed to freedom. I fear that sudden confinement may kill his spirit." She replied softly.

Aegon nodded.

"I may yet change my decision. For now, I want to see him."

In accordance with his desire, he, she and a retinue consisting of several members of the Kingsguard, including Ser Criston Cole, set off on horseback to Vhagar's lair where the two dragons rested.

When they arrived, she felt joy, or rather a new kind of it, one she had experienced for the first time when she saw Sheepstealer.

Her dragon squawked happily at the sight of her, coming quickly up to her on his paws, watching her from all sides, intrigued, paying no attention to the other newcomers.

He was as sweet as a baby, she thought with tenderness, lonely for long years, craving tenderness, understanding and attention as much as she did.

He was everything she was, which is why the moment she first looked into his eyes she knew she would succeed in taming him.

She knew what he needed and she was able to give it to him, and he reciprocated.

Her dragon was the only man she needed.

"Magnificent. Fierce. And large indeed. Bigger than Sunfyre. Very well." Exclaimed the King with a smile, clearly pleased and reassured.

When his brother was not next to him he felt in control of the situation again.

She stroked the muzzle of her dragon, for some reason also smiling, its scales under her skin hard and rough.

"We are at your service, my King." She replied, wanting to be sure they would leave her alone.

She just wanted to be close to her dragon, nothing more.

"Good. You and my brother will take turns patrolling the sky daily. This will relieve the burden on Vhagar and allow the prince to attend to other, equally important matters." He said, and she nodded.

"Present our subjects with our new dragon. Show them that we are stronger than ever." He commanded, and she held back the smile of amusement that pressed across her face.

Is that so?

Outside? Maybe.

But inside, they were one rotten fruit.

"My King."

Flying over King's Landing was a kind of liberation for her – she felt she was showing not only the world what she had become, but more importantly her father.

She hoped, feeling the wind in her hair, whirling on the Sheepstealer in the skies with laughter, that Daemon was throwing his cups in Dragonstone out of rage, cursing the day she was born.

Although she hated her heritage and her name, it was the dragon that saved her and gave her life meaning.

It felt like they understood each other without words, that one move of hers was enough to make him change his flight course to where she wanted or dive down.

Once they landed, she always spent a bit of time with him, lying on the grass beside him, stroking his muzzle – she wanted him to know that he wasn't just her tool that she used.

No.

She felt something completely different that filled her heart wonderfully.

Love.

Looking out of the corner of her eye at Vhagar lying in the distance, plunged into a deep sleep, completely ignoring them, she wondered if these were the feelings that Prince Aemond had for his dragoness.

You should fall to your knees before her, you fucking whore, not laugh.

This was not an expression of his pride then.

It was an expression of his deep affection for her.

She smiled at this thought, recognising that at last she understood him.

Her expression was gentle and contented when, walking down the corridor of the Red Keep with a guard who did not leave her side, she came across him, apparently heading for Vhagar's liege.

"Where have you been?" He asked disturbed, seeing her riding attire.

She sighed quietly, pulling her black leather gloves from her hands.

"The King ordered that we take turns patrolling the skies. I have done that duty today. You may rest." She said, and he swallowed hard, something expression in his face as if he felt discomfort.

Another thing he was taking away from him, she thought.

"Leave us." He directed his cold words to the guard. He nodded and walked away with the quiet clang of his steel armour.

The prince moved away towards the cloisters, and she moved with him.

He didn't want anyone to hear their conversation.

"What did you say to him?" He asked, looking sideways, as if he couldn't bear to see her.

"To whom?"

"To my brother. Did you betray me?" He asked coldly, throwing her a drawn-out, stern look.

She sighed heavily and shook her head, closing her eyes, tired after the physical exertion, not having the strength for his baseless accusations.

"How?" She asked, his jaw clenched, his body upright and tense.

"Don't play a fucking fool. You know perfectly well what I'm referring to."

She laughed at his words, shrugging her shoulders, bringing him to the brink of fury.

She could see it in his wide-open eye, in his feral, furious gaze.

"I know, but I haven't told him anything and I won't. It's not in my nature to complicate a situation where I'm comfortable. Being your enemy is not my desire. The lack of your unity drastically reduces my chances of survival, and having tamed the dragon, its value in my eyes has increased greatly." She said lightly, looking him straight in the eye, seeing that his hands entwined behind his back were clenched into fists.

He hated it when she spoke to him like that, but he couldn't do anything to her in public.

"I also wish for you to continue to teach me the language of Old Valyria. In return, I will report to you on what I am asked and what the King tells me to soothe your troubled soul." She hummed with a smile, watching with satisfaction as he drew in a loud breath and licked his lower lip, apparently trying not to use his hands on her long neck.

"Do we have an agreement, my Prince?" She asked, cocking her head.

He sighed, glancing sideways, and shook his head, clearly not believing that he had consented to such humiliation.

"In the library. Every day, right after supper."

She learned of Lady Floris Baratheon's arrival in the Red Keep from her maid – braiding some of her hair at the back of her head, she told her of what she had seen.

"Lady Floris arrived in a brown gown embroidered with gold thread. Her hair is black and long, pinned up in a braid, smoothed down in front, her forehead high, her gaze proud and solemn. Her smile, in my opinion, has no lightness or conviction." Said Lysa, and she giggled under her breath, looking at her and herself in the reflection of the mirror.

"What a harsh judgement. Perhaps it was that smile that the prince found so charming that he chose her." She replied lightly, thinking with amusement that her cousin was surely writhing in agony right now, entertaining his betrothed.

Good, she thought.

Let him suffer.

"Perhaps, however, the memory of that day must spend his sleep." Said Lysa, gracefully weaving one of her strands in with the rest of her hairstyle.

She blinked, intrigued.

"What do you mean?"

Lysa looked at her surprised, as if snapped out of her reverie.

"Don't you know, my Lady? It was on this day that Prince Aemond killed Prince Lucerys. That poor boy. His mother searched for his remains in madness and despair, but apparently there was nothing left of him but his cloak. He was devoured by Vhagar." She explained, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

He says that Luke's death was an accident, but I don't know if I believe him.

I don't recognise him anymore and I warn you that he's unpredictable.

She was sure she would eat her supper as usual in solitude, but it turned out that the King had held a small banquet and she was to attend.

Aegon wanted to show off her dragon and what she had done, while humiliating his brother and his betrothed, she thought wryly, walking there reluctantly.

When the door opened in front of her, she saw a long table, on either side of which sat the royal family and their loyal lords with their relatives.

She did not know where she should sit or what to do, the King, however, decided to take pity on her.

"Ah, here is my dear, fearless cousin. Come here, my Lady, I have assigned you a seat next to my brother. Perhaps your presence will lift his spirits." He called out, and she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze, knowing that she couldn't react to this, that she just had to survive it.

She sat down in the only empty seat, between her cousin and the king's wife, Helaena – she was pale and sad, staring off into the distance somewhere with empty eyes.

She still had not come to terms with the death of her son.

However, as she sank into her grief and sorrow, the King, on the contrary, was bubbling over with a desire for revenge, ready for action.

When she glanced sideways, all she saw was his hand clenched into a fist, his familiar scent reached her nostrils – she swallowed quietly, twisting in her seat, feeling a pleasant pulsing between her thighs, for some reason remembering how pleasant the touch of his fingers was there, sinking into her damp folds.

She reached for her wine cup and took a loud sip from it, not bothering to look to the side, her gaze fixed on the Queen Alicent who sat opposite her.

"My Lady." She heard an unfamiliar female voice directed in her side and she let out a quiet breath, taking another sip from her goblet, hearing her cousin twist restlessly in his chair.

She looked at Floris Baratheon and forced herself to give her the kindest, warmest smile she could afford. Floris was also smiling; had it not been for her gaze, she might have found her expression even sympathetic.

However, her eyebrows arched in some sort of compassion, a sign that she wanted to show her false understanding.

"I congratulate you on taming a dragon. No one expected you to succeed." She said softly, shaking her head as if filled with sincere admiration.

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she managed not to laugh.

"I didn't believe it myself, my Lady. I was convinced that I would burn and become dust." She replied lightly, not taking her eyes off her.

Several people at the table chuckled at her words as Floris watched her for a moment, playing with the small gold ring on her heart finger.

"The gods have spared you. Will you stand to fight your father?" She asked, as if giving her a challenge of sorts.

"Enough." She heard her cousin's impatient voice between them directed at his betrothed.

She, however, found that she was happy to answer her.

"My dragon lacks experience and composure. I will be a mere support for the King and the Prince." She replied, and Floris leaned back, intrigued.

"Support indeed needed." Aegon added, popping a grape into his mouth, biting through it with a loud crunch. "On which we all agree. Now, music!"

For the rest of the feast, she pretended to be very focused on her piece of roast, which she ate slowly, knowing that she couldn't flee immediately if she didn't want to offend the King – she didn't hold him in special esteem but she knew that he held her in some sort of affection, and after what he had accused her of after his son's death, she feared that one wrong move on her part would be enough for her to fall back into his disfavour.

True, the responsible parties had been found and the King himself had brought them justice, however, she could not let him begin to think again that she had helped her father let them into the keep.

He had to be sure that she was faithful to him.

They both had to be sure of it.

Him and his brother.

She swallowed hard, pulled out of her reverie, feeling a shudder when her cousin's knee pressed against hers. She was sure he simply wanted to change position, he, however, spread himself out comfortably, leaving his leg where it was.

Should she move away?

Do nothing?

What was that supposed to mean?

She glanced sideways at his hand out of the corner of her eye – she could see that his fingers were tapping the tabletop in some nervous, impatient gesture.

Their lessons.

Was he trying to tell her to leave and go to the library before he did, so as not to frustrate his betrothed?

She wanted to ask him that, but couldn't, so she decided she would do what she thought appropriate and simply stood up, nodding her head at the King.

"Your Grace. I will retire now, if you will allow me." She said softly, and Aegon nodded.

"I allow it." He replied, his voice through the amount of wine he had managed to drink like a babble.

Gods help me, she thought as she bowed to him and the Queen Dowager, without bestowing even a single glance on the prince or his betrothed.

She waited in her chamber for half an hour, changing in the meantime into the more comfortable, casual silk robe the Queen had given her, throwing it over her nightgown, tying it around her waist.

When she finally stepped outside her guard furrowed his brow and shook his head.

"Prince Aemond wanted to meet me in the library. Take me there." She said – the man hesitated and sighed heavily, indicating with his hand for her to go ahead.

Her cousin was already waiting for her – he gave her one protracted glance from over his open books, his eye open wide as if he was surprised by her appearance, candles all around him.

He nodded at her to sit beside him in the chair, and she did so, leaving her guard outside the door.

He moved one of the books towards her and opened it to a page he apparently wanted to discuss with her.

"We'll start with the basics. The most important and simplest terms." He said matter-of-factly, sliding another book towards her and leaned in, his clearly defined cheekbone close, too close, pointing his finger at one of the words.

"Jelmor." He hummed. "North."

"Jelmor." She whispered, feeling the tension in all the muscles of her body.

"Ñāqon. East."

"Nāqon."

"No. Roll your tongue at the n." He said, looking at her out of the corner of his eye, something in his gaze from which her heart struck harder.

It seemed to her that his iris was black.

There was something obscenely intimate in his bent figure, in his slightly parted lips, in his proximity, the place between her thighs all swollen, increasingly moist and warm.

"Ñāqon." She whispered.

"Better." He hummed, his gaze never leaving her face even though his finger moved on to the next words, as if he knew this book by heart. "Vēzor. South."

"Vēzor."

"Endia. West."

"Endia."

"Muña. Mother." He said, something flashed dangerously in his gaze, as if he knew exactly what her reaction would be and he was not wrong.

She froze, clasping her hands on her thighs, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, the tightness in her throat indicating that she felt pain.

"Muña."

"Mmm. Kepa. Father."

She swallowed hard, looking at him with eyes glazed from tears, feeling her body begin to twitch. His lips parted slightly, as if what he was doing to her, the fact that she was vulnerable aroused him.

"Repeat." He whispered.

"Kepa." She said, feeling a single, heavy tear run down her cheek.

Kepa.

She shuddered, looking up at him in horror as his hand rose to her cheek, his thumb lazily rubbing the wet mark from her face.

"Trēsy. Son." He continued, his voice like the sound of water, calm and quiet.

Tender, as if he were moved.

Why?

She sighed as his hand traveled lower, his index finger running over her jaw.

"Tresy."

"No." He said. "Trēsy. The letter 'ē' needs to be read deeper, as if you want to sing."

"Trēsy."

"Tala. Daugther."

She shook her head, pressing her lips together, feeling that she couldn't do it, the feeling as if he was driving needle after needle into her heart made it difficult for her to get anything out.

She sighed, closing her eyes as he leaned lower, in some natural reflex pressing his forehead against hers, his hand sinking into the skin of her neck, his warm, excited breath enveloping her face.

She involuntarily clenched her thighs together, feeling the wonderful, familiar pulsing and tickling between them.

"Tala."

"Hāedar." He exhaled, something in his voice from which she felt her nipples harden, peeking through from under the fabric of her robe. "Little sister."

She opened her eyes, feeling a shiver run down her spine.

And that was a mistake.

He was looking straight into her face.

She sighed when she felt his other hand on her knee, moving slowly up to her thigh.

"Hāedar." She exhaled, feeling her cunt begin to leak with desire against her will.

"Lēkia." He said, as if he had done something definitive, a quiet moan breaking from her throat as his hand closed over her womanhood. "Older brother."

"Lēkia." She moaned and whimpered as his lips pressed against hers in an aggressive, loud, sticky kiss full of their saliva and panting, her palm touching his scarred cheek, drawing a low murmur of delight from his throat.

She touched him.

She sighed as she let her hand sink into his smooth white hair, for some reason seeking comfort in him, an escape from the cold, bleak loneliness and emptiness that filled her heart.

They sank again and again into each other's soft, fleshy skin, his tongue bursting between her teeth as his hand lifted the fabric of her robe, the other clenched in her curls.

She would have cried out in shocking delight had it not been for the fact that his lips muffled all the sound she made of herself as the tips of his fingers dug into the silken folds of her womanhood, dripping and throbbing with lust.

He groaned into her throat when he felt how unashamedly wet she was for him, and she gasped when his free hand slipped from her hair to her wrist, grasping it, drawing her to his body, pressing it against the bulge in his breeches.

He murmured and licked her encouragingly as her fingers tentatively ran over the outline of his swollen manhood, hidden beneath the leather material, hard, long and twitching.

He let go of her hand, embracing her around the waist and pulling her closer as he made sure she was going to give him what he wanted, their sighs of desire melting between their plump lips as his fingers pushed against her hot slit.

She spread her legs wider, wanting to feel it, wanting him to do it to her, but they both jumped away from each other as if burned when they heard the creak of the door opening.

Her cousin wiped his hand, sticky with her moisture in his breeches, looking at his betrothed's figure, pale, and she lowered back the material of her robe, staring blankly at the books open before her.

Was she able to see by their faces, by their quickened breaths what had happened?

She felt shame at the thought that she shouldn't have done this.

She was his betrothed.

She was the one he should be touching like this.

She was the one he should spend the evening with, learning about her body.

"The guards told me I would find you here, my Prince. I did not know you would have company." She said calmly, however, disappointment and understandable annoyance could be heard in her tone of voice.

She swallowed hard, feeling that the material beneath her buttocks was wet with her moisture, her swollen walls pulsing greedily around nothing, begging to feel his fingers again, her nipples hard and sore, clearly outlined beneath her robe.

"I am teaching my cousin the language of Old Valyria. It is the only way she can communicate with her dragon." He said, feigning composure, looking ahead but not at her even though she stopped right beside him.

She touched one of the books and flipped a page, remaining silent for a moment.

"May I join you? I would also like to learn the language of your ancestors, my love." She said, her hand on his shoulder.

She looked at him and saw that he had closed his eye, as if he felt discomfort the moment Lady Floris touched him.

He swallowed loudly and opened his eyelid, his gaze helpless and childlike, filled with pain.

"I will not be able to concentrate with you standing by my side, my Lady." He whispered, his voice weak, as if he had run out of strength.

Floris's hand slid from his shoulder to his forearm, his figure tense, his lips clamped into a tight line.

He didn't look at her.

"Does my presence disturb you, my love?" Floris asked, and she twisted in her seat, deciding that this conversation was too private.

These were their problems, their betrothal, their worries.

Why was she allowing herself to be dragged into this?

"I'll leave you alone. With your permission." She said quickly, wanting to get up, his gaze shifting to her, sharp and angry.

"Daor, hāedar."

She froze in mid-motion with her hands on the table, looking at him in disbelief, feeling her walls clench around nothing at his words.

No, little sister.

Little sister.

She swallowed hard feeling her lips part involuntarily, her eyebrows arching in helplessness, the heat that spread across her chest strangely pleasant and reassuring.

Floris looked at him then at her and shook her head.

"What did you say, my love?"

"I don't allow it. We are not finished yet. Soon her dragon will move to fight at my side and she must be ready. I ask that you never interrupt us again. If you wish, we will take a walk around the royal gardens tomorrow, just as you desire." He said emotionlessly, as if trying to calm a whimpering child.

Floris swallowed hard and looked at her in a way from which she felt discomfort in her stomach, a sense of humiliation, frustration and irritation in her gaze.

"Is it because she is your cousin? Like any Targaryen you prefer your own kin?" She asked quietly, both of them bouncing when his fists slammed into the table, and he sprang from his seat, towering over his betrothed as if he wanted to tear her apart.

She too stood up, grabbing his arm in some helpless, naïve gesture.

"Lēkia." She said pleadingly.

Floris's lips clenched looking at the fact that she dared to touch him, that her prince looked at her and not his betrothed, that it was her opinion that counted, her word that could stop him.

And then Floris' gaze fled lower, to his breeches, and she froze, pale, seeing exactly her answer to all her concerns.

Her hand let go of him when his nostrils stopped twitching with rage, when his jaw relaxed into an expression a little softer, though still frustrated.

He finally looked at his betrothed and licked his lower lip, as if trying to control himself.

"I will consider that you never said it, my Lady. Otherwise I would have to recognise that you intended to insult me and my family. And that would mean, in turn, that my betrothed is a fool. Is that how it is, my Lady?" He gasped in a voice filled with mockery, from which she swallowed hard, lowering her gaze.

Floris Baratheon looked at him with eyes full of tears, and then her gaze turned to her, her lips quivering with rage and grief.

"No, my Prince. I am not." She said, turned and walked away, leaving them alone.

She was unable to look at him – the silence in the chamber, his taut silhouette standing beside her made her feel like her wetness was dripping from between her thighs straight onto the stone floor beneath her feet.

"You may leave." He said finally.

She nodded and moved towards the door on soft legs, walking out into the corridor, thinking that they had both accomplished some amazing feat by not simply fucking each other on that table.

She sighed loudly, running her hand over her face, thinking that maybe she wasn't such a bad person.

She figured that during their next lessons she wouldn't sit so close to him, that she wouldn't look at him or tempt him.

That she wouldn't let him touch her anymore.

She blinked, looking around, only noticing after a moment that there was no guard who should be watching her.

She turned when she heard the rustling of a gown behind her, something long and hard hit her head with all its force, and she fell to the floor with a thud.

It seemed a moment before she lost consciousness that she heard the breathy voice of her cousin's betrothed above her, only a quiet hiss left her lips.

"Whore."

[ilovejoo]

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

habits they get from dating you; enhypen

word count: 1.5k warnings: n/a gn!reader a/n: like & reblog & follow for more; new blog here lol THANK U FOR READINGG

heeseung

always looking for you in a crowd to make sure you were doing okay, even if the situation doesn't call for worry

at parties, he can't help but scan the room to look for your familiar eyes. were you doing okay? were you having fun?

when performing while you're in the audience, he looks for your approval in the crowds while also ensuring that you were safe. was his singing as good as the singing he shows you at 3am on the living room couch? were you being trampled by his fans?

this type of habit that he developed is something he really can't help: though he trusts you to take care of yourself, he just wants the best for you.

subconsciously putting food on your plate before he takes his own

this can mean sneaking an extra choco pie into his pocket from a en-o-clock episode site or grilling the meat and placing it on your plate for you during kbbq nights. he grabs the first slice of pizza for you, reaches for the best piece of pie for you, and makes sure you have food to eat before he starts taking and shoving his own food into his mouth, even though everyone knows how much he values eating.

he saves the first, last, and best bites for you. if he knows you like a certain side dish, he'll move his onto your plate.

jay

making meals for two rather than one, or eight rather than the seven of his group

he got so used to cooking for you that even when you aren't there, he finds himself making a bigger meal than he used to out of habit.

two servings of ramen- damn, he only meant to make it for himself, but he added two on accident since two is the amount he makes every time.

whenever he's cooking, naturally he adds a few scoops extra of each ingredient without even thinking; caring for you and making sure you have food to eat is something he does subconsciously.

calling you "my" when talking to other people, as in "my baby," "my y/n," "my darling"

you overheard him talking to jungwon while referring to you as "my y/n," and you felt your heart skip a beat. "my y/n baked me a cupcake the other day!" or "my darling studied all night for their exam, i hope they aren't too tired."

the way you both know that he is yours and you are his is something that incorporated itself into his daily life and daily conversations.

jake

seeing you in every little thing, from the clouds in the sky to his eyes naturally spotting your favorite snack

his members are tired of hearing "oh y/n likes this!" "this looks like y/n!" "this reminds me of when y/n..." jake cannot get you out of his head, he is so down bad for you that every little thing reminds him of you.

somehow he will connect the color of a random car to the time when you went to the movies together and the commercial that played had the same shade of gray somewhere in it. romantic?

saying "i love you" literally every waking moment

when you wake up, in your sleepy eyes and messed up hair, he can't help but express the love he holds for you. seeing you shove a cupcake into your mouth: he's never seen anything more perfect in his life. you scored a 50% on your final exam: it's completely fine!

everything from your strengths to your flaws about you is so perfect, mesmerizing, lovable to him, and so he finds himself saying the words "i love you" every hour, every day. every time he feels grateful to have you in his life, he says a quick "love you," which is much more often than you would think.

sunghoon

playing with your fingers whenever you were next to him

like in iland where often he found himself fidgeting with the hand of the person next to him, your hand is always in his once he mustered the courage to grasp it the first time. rings, fingers, nails, anything on your hands becomes his personal fidget toy: all anxieties gone, all pressures relieved, everything perfectly fine. sometimes he will crack your knuckles, pinch your skin, earning a playful slap on his shoulder from you; the different ways he plays with your hands are endless.

asking questions like "did you sleep well?" or "was the food good?"

is this him being awkward and not knowing what to say to fill up silence, or is this him being a caring boyfriend? neither of you know, but you do know that he still genuinely wants to know in order to check up on you and make sure everything is good. his "did you like the chicken" translates to "i love you and i want everything to be just perfect in your life."

sunoo

attentively studying the hair stylists to learn how to do your hair when he gets back home

whenever his stylist tries something new on him, a different idol from another group, or one of his members and he finds himself particularly liking it, he studies it to the best of his ability to best replicate it when he sees you again. the way the straightener moves, the type of products to use: he memorizes it all.

he will see a certain style and think about how good it would look on you, and how he needs to see it on you asap, so learning from a real professional would be the best way to do it.

saving saturday nights for dates and building his schedule around it every week

"wait, saturday night? i can't, i have plans." he did not have plans.. yet. but! every saturday is saved for you, no matter what. therefore, on the way home, he picked up some face masks and candles for a self care night.

he finds himself saving every single saturday night just for you, no matter what may come up. he loves spending time with you, so having this time together means a lot to him.

jungwon

taking selfies everywhere to send mini updates of literally his entire life

you're his personal diary at this point, with the number of selfies and pictures he takes and sends to you. you thought he takes a lot of pictures for his fans? while that is true, he takes double the amount for you.

he makes up for all the time you guys are apart by updating you on things like his meals, practice ending, going to sleep, his member leaving his sock on his bed, etc. does it get too personal sometimes? yes, but you love it.

watching for your safety whether you are known for your clumsiness or not, his hands always ready to grab you

whether this means walking on the outer side of the sidewalk or hovering over you when you walk down the stairs, your safety is his priority.

when you bend down to grab something, he walks behind you so you feel safe, covered, and nobody bumps into you. when your head is dangerously close to the corner of a table, his hand gravitates between your head and the edge to prevent any potential injuries.

he can't bear to see you hurt or in pain, so he'll do his best for that not to happen.

niki

always sleeping with something by his side, and he can't sleep without the feeling of another presence right next to him

his members have been replaced by you at night sleeping next to him. twiddling with your hair as your eyes began to close, snuggling into that crook in your neck: all flows right into his nightly routine. after a while, he got too used to your warmth that whenever you are absent, he can't fall asleep.

this is where weighted stuffed animals, heated blankets, and such came into play; he really could not sleep without you, or at least a subpar replica of you.

dancing, singing, and trying to look his best whenever you're around to impress you and earn words of praise

"y/n look over here!" he'd do a quick but fancy dance move that he learned in the middle of your living room.

"wait, watch this." he'll play a video of him that heeseung took of him shooting a basketball into the hoop from afar.

"did you see our new performance? wasn't i just so cool in it?" he will say anything to hear praise coming from your lips: of course, he hears it all the time from his fans, but hearing it from you has a different meaning, so he makes sure to always look his best and impress you with all that he does.

he wants to look ultra cool and awesome in front of you, but can you blame him? he's just so in love with you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey🤍 may I please request a fluff/romantic or Bi Han. I know a lot of people don’t think he is capable of being romantic but a girl needs some fluff for Bi Han please. Maybe something were he is sweet and caring only towards reader and everyone else he is normal Bi Han. Love your writing thank you🤍

This got shoddy at the end of the drab. 🦦

You were lost within your own head for while when Bi-Han had appeared at your side, gingerly taking your hand within his own, drawing a gasp from your lips as you felt his cold fingers intertwine with yours. ‘Bi-Han. You’re here.’ You breathed out, smiling instantaneously upon being greeted with the beautiful dark eyes of the man you had happily promised your heart to. Your grasped his hand tighter, almost as though you were checking if he was actually with you, rather then some illusion you’ve coincidentally conjured up.

‘Of course I’m here, little bird.’ Bi-Han told you whilst pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, letting them linger there for a while before pulling away to gently rest his forehead against your own. His eyes locked on yours, as though he were fearful to look away in the instance that you wouldn’t be there when he looked back. ‘For I could never be content as to keep you waiting for longer then needed.’ He adds as he took this moment to ingrain you eternally within his mind, so that he may never forget who he was fighting for, who he was carving a better future for and who he would vigorously defend till his last breath escaped from him.

Gods did Bi-Han hate being separated from you for long periods of time, truly believing that one day Kuai Liang and Tomas would try to enact revenge for his supposed betrayal, by taking away the one person who gave him true purpose in this life; you. However he couldn’t completely disregard his duties as Grandmaster, for it would be sacrilege. Bi-Han was forever grateful that you never held that against him, and instead fully understand that he couldn’t fully commit to being your lover when there was so much work yet to be done.

‘If it was for you?’ You inquired. ‘I’d wait for as long as I must to see my beloved home safe and sound. So you needn’t worry in keeping me waiting.’ You finished as you then softly pecked his plush lips, cooing softly once pulling away from him, enjoying how Bi-Han fruitlessly attempted in following after your lips. For a man as cold as ice he was quite warm and gentle, but you knew he was only like this for you and you often times felt spoilt by being blessed to see this side of him; The side of him that would constantly hold you face in between his hands when checking you for injuries, his thumbs stroking the skin of your cheeks with such gentleness, as though he thought you were going to break. You even saw Bi-Han during his most stubborn and his most angriest of moments and yet still you called him the most breathtaking man you’ve ever met because to you that was the honest truth.

‘I just don’t want to wish you being bored of me when I come home.’ Bi-Han admitted softly. ‘You deserve a man who is willing to be at your beck and call, to be with you from the early hours of morning, to the later hours of night. You shouldn’t have to settle for less because you feel as though that’s all there is going for you, and instead you should strive for more for you deserve more, way more then any man could possibly give.’ Bi-Han truly meant what he said, he truly believed that you deserved better, never to tolerate less, for he felt like he wasn’t giving you all that he possibly could and it pained him greatly because you’ve him so much throughout the duration of your relationship.

Bi-Han only felt as it was only reasonable to give you an out shoulder you feel as though you weren’t being valued enough, as he always tended to put you and your well-being first and foremost in just about everything. But you saw what he was doing almost instantly and you weren’t about to allow Bi-Han to make a offer a solution that’ll only end up hurting the both of you because despite his tiering duties as Grandmaster, he was a dedicated, loyal and caring lover. You couldn’t have to ask for a better man and never would for Bi-Han was it for you, he was the one.

‘Bi-Han.’ You murmured, taking your free hand to hold his cheek, stroking it reassuringly as you watched him visibly relax within your hold, moving his head to kiss your inner wrist. ‘To be bored of you would be like to be bored of living for while you are a very busy man, you are the most attentive, sweet, caring man I have ever met.’ You pressed a kiss to the tip of his nose before brushing your nose against his, breathing him in as deep as you could. ‘Not once have you ever made me feel less important or less valued. Never. You made me feel worshiped, you made me feel loved, you always found room for me within your busy schedule, and I could never find a appropriate way to express my gratitude to you but I hope to everyday.’ You concluded, hoping that you had gotten your point across that you weren’t going anywhere without him.

‘You don’t need to express anything to me, my beloved,’ Bi-Han reassured you, kissing your inner wrist once more. ‘For the sole fact that you still being here with me despite all my flaws is the biggest gesture I could have ever received and I’m eternally thankful that you haven’t yet given up on me. Do it should be me expressing my gratitude, not you.’ Bi-Han finishes. ‘There’s no need for that.’ You assured him. ‘You’ve done enough and you’ve just gotten back from a long mission. You must be exhausted and in need of rest.’ You then began to pull Bi-Han towards your shared bed by his arm.

Bi-Han wasn’t one to complain, as it meant he got to make up for lost time by laying in your arms and leeching off of your warmth whilst putting his aching body to rest, something his soul had yearned to do the moment he return to the Lin Kuei. ‘That sounds perfect, little bird. That sounds perfect.’

[jewish-vents]

(Post this anonymously, please!!)

I am an artist with an 8k+ follower blog which I have been active on for over 12 years. I've always felt safe here and have considered it my internet home. After October, watching the amount of people in my fandoms and artists who I had admired and found community with who immediately went full-in on a very black and white, aggressively conspiratorial and antisemitic brand of pro-Palestine activism, my idea of community here and my place in it was totally shaken. It was like I had put on a pair of glasses that allowed me to see the latent radicalization that had been going on around me, and the pervasive antisemitism that exists, unacknowledged, in nominally pro-social justice leftist spaces.

The loneliest part is that it feels like, with few exceptions, only other Jews can see it. Even the gentile friends who i love most and who would unquestionably stand up for me are just not attuned to the dogwhistles enough to see 95% of it. It's like living in a bubble reality, unable to take these glasses off, while everyone else goes on as if everything is the same.

Yesterday, I logged in, and saw image attached from a gentile artist i'd followed for months, who had never before given me a reason to feel unsafe. Their tags read "don't come in my inbox to debate this, i have no interest and will not change my mind." I wanted to cry from frustration- this person likely has no understanding of how revoltingly antisemitic this post was because they have no understanding of the complexity of what "zionism" actually means, and, as they've made clear, they have no interest in learning or being told they're mistaken. There are so few of us (Jews) here- how the hell are we ever supposed to combat this? The worst part was that it had 98 likes, and zero replies suggesting that any of them saw a problem with this or disagreed.

I myself never really understood zionism before this- I am ashamed to say that I took a lot of the twisted definitions held by gentiles in my progressive social media spaces without question, and thought that because I believed in Palestinian self-determination, I must be an anti-zionist by definition. It took the "glasses" coming on in the time since October for me to fully learn and to understand that while the nuances of the term go deep, to the majority of my people, basic "zionism" means belief in Jewish-self determination in Eretz Yisrael, and that when many gentiles say "Zionist," they just mean "bad Jew."

In all of this mess there's one thing i'm grateful for, and it's that, even as i've lost community in unfollowing/blocking previous mutuals and acquaintances who've shown their incuriosity and prejudice, this shakeup has driven me to find community with other Jews on this site and a greater curiosity about and sense of belonging in my culture in the real world. I can't be mad that my eyes are open, because i've only lost community that wouldn't accept me as I am, and am gaining community that does, that shares my struggles and that sees the world in ways compatible with my values. When I look at my activity tab and see notifications from my mutuals now, I feel safe knowing that I have been honest, shared the truth of me, and that they have chosen to stick around, whoever they are. I love you all.

[bubblegumvolcano]

🐬 hi, could you maybe do a blurb of a rg!ken x reader where ken is feeling insecure about not being good enough or basically not feeling (k)enough, and reader just sort of comforting him and reminding him that he is loved and enough? tyy <33

ofc! here u go;

(🐬)

Ken sat on a bench on the beach alone, his head resting heavily on his hands. Self-doubt settled within him, leaving him feeling unworthy.

It was nighttime, so most of the dolls were asleep.

You, however, just happened to be taking a solo walk on the beach and noticed Ken sitting there, looking lost in his thoughts.

You hesitated for a moment, contemplating whether to approach him or not, but concern won over uncertainty. You'd never seen a Ken look this way.

With a deep breath, you walked up to him and sat down gently beside him. "Hi, Ken," you said softly, giving him a friendly smile. "Mind if I join you?"

He looked up with a bit of surprise. "Hi, Barbie. Yeah, sure," he replied, trying to hide the emotions swirling inside him, smiling a small smile.

You sensed that he was going through a tough time (which was something extremely rare in Barbieland) and chose your words carefully. "Is everything okay?"

Ken sighed, relieved to have someone to share his feelings with. Usually he would lie, because you're a Barbie, so he'd rather not dump everything on you. But right now? It was too much for him to carry.

"I've been feeling like I'm not good enough lately. Like no matter what I do, it's never going to be enough for anyone here."

"Ken, you are so much more than you give yourself credit for," you said, trying to sound reassuring.

Ken's eyes softened, and he gave you a grateful smile. "Thanks, Barbie. It's just hard sometimes, you know? I see all these confident and successful Kens and Barbies around, and I kind of feel like I'm falling short. I think I might have to talk to therapist Barbie."

"Ken, you don't have to compare yourself to others. You have your own unique qualities that make you special," you said, your voice gentle.

"You have a way of making people feel valued, and your presence brightens up any room."

He looked at you, a hint of something unspoken passing between you both. "That is so nice, Barbie. How did you notice that?"

"Oh, I notice a lot of things about you," you replied, your smile holding a hint of playfulness.

Ken's cheeks flushed slightly as he spoke, "You know, you have a way of making everyone around you feel special, Barbie."

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, the subtle hint of admiration in his voice not going unnoticed. "Thank you, Ken. That means a lot to me." Although every Barbie held that skill, it was still sweet of him to say.

As the moon shined over you, the two of you sat there, enjoying each other's company, each lost in your own thoughts.

"Barbie," Ken said, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "thank you for being nice to me."

"You don't have to thank me, Ken. We're friends, and I'll always be here to support you."

You placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're Kenough."

-

to join the sleepover, click here!

[carryonafi]

where did the party go. (2)

a/n: good lord carryonafi nation FINALLY!! part 2 of where did the party go is here and now i’m working on new projects! the end of the school year is kicking my ass at the moment, but there’s cool things planned and requests will be out soon :) enjoy! and tell me if you’d like a part 3 of this universe where we do some sweet stories from the past. 🤍

content warnings: sexual innuendos, heavy drinking, smoking, mentions of declining mental health

words: 2.0k

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

background: Your relationship with Ashton has been public ever since the beginning, starting in 2013 and continuing to flow and experience the life of 5 Seconds of Summer all the way until the band went on a break at the end of 2016. During those years, you took on the struggles that Ashton and the rest of the band faced which left them all having you as a permanent resident in their life. However, your relationship becomes rocky when Ashton refuses to communicate until the very moment he can’t take it anymore. His impulsive decision leads to you moving out, yet still being in his life because of the others and their friendship with you.

—

After parties were a staple, this was where your relationship with Ashton began, found itself strained, healed… it was an environment that was home to a lot of major events in your still young lives. It had been about 5 years since the first event you had ever gone to, an album release party hosted by a different band which got you into the public position you wore proudly. Ashton never once doubted your abilities to handle the spotlight, you didn’t mind the cameras flashing or the way members of the crowds would desperately call out your name or his. It just came naturally.

It felt like home to be wanted, to be needed by some people. The way those boys relied on you to give them their reality away from their occupations made you feel important, but Ashton clicked with you. His need was different from the others, but you needed him in the same way.

Things started to get rough when the band went on break, but even before… Ashton was slipping and it felt like communication hadn’t been valued enough. One encounter months after your breakup stayed engraved in your mind, the most vulnerable you had ever seen that man. His tears meant everything, even if he was wasted and didn’t realize half of what he was thinking fell from his lips— those tears were real. The way his shaking hands slipped through your fingertips at a desperate attempt to keep you close to him, his bloodshot eyes and wild hair… it shook you just thinking about it.

The nomination for your single sort of fell through, but in this moment nothing else mattered. Finding the drummer was your top priority and not a single disruption would ruin this for you.

The music gently shook the atmosphere, the venue filled with laughter and conversation, some dramatic, bitchy, grateful, maybe elated. These had to have been the most confusing places with everyone’s mixed emotions and different reactions to the winners and performances. Bodies were spread out, yet a tiny bit cramped due to the limited space they had for celebration. After parties were nice for this reason too, it wasn’t like your usual event thrown together and way overpacked with drunk individuals and enough alcohol to poison an entire tolerant frat house.

Finally, you pushed your way up towards the bar and was met with a familiar, inhumanely tall figure. You knew who this was immediately.

“Hey, Luke?” You called, gently tapping on the man’s shoulder.

Luke turned around, a smile lingering on his face until he made eye contact with you. “Shit, hey Y/N!” He beamed, hooking his arm around your shoulders to give you a bit of an awkward hug. You laughed anxiously, blinking to adjust to the dim lights and meet Luke’s gaze. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you too…” You hesitated. “Do you know where Ashton is?” It seemed his face mirrored yours, curious and full of a need for answers.

“Um… yeah, I think he stepped out into the hallway? Not sure which one though, pretty sure it was over in that direction somewhere.” Luke hummed, making sure you were watching where his finger was pointing to dressed up with a chunky silver ring.

“I’ll find him, thanks Luke.” You nodded, his expression still matching yours as you both smiled at each other and he wished you good luck. Then you were set off on your mission again, weaving in and out of cliques to make sure you didn’t bump into anyone. Apology after apology, cringy glances and excuses to make your way through these people who were definitely way more important than you were.

You spotted a glass door to the main hallway of the venue, might as well try your luck… you pushed it open and was immediately met with still silence. Once the door closed, everything was muffled. You sighed with relief, closing your eyes and standing in the warm entryway light.

“Overwhelmed?” You heard a voice, opening your eyes again and looking to your left to see Ashton leaning against the wall. His tie was loose, top button of his shirt undone with his blazer strewn across the bench next to him. Would it be terrible to admit how quickly you started blushing?

“Uh… sorta.” You hesitated again, blinking innocently at him. “No, I wasn’t. I was looking for you.”

Ashton was expecting you to give a different answer rather than just being “overwhelmed”, but that wasn’t the one he was thinking of. There was visible confusion in his eyes, gently twisting his expression and deepening the subtle frown lines. “You were?” He furrowed his eyebrows, pushing his hair back in a way that told you he had product in it and couldn’t run his fingers through it like normal.

“Yeah, I was. I found Luke, he told me you’d be here, so…” Your breath caught in your throat, looking back at the door you came in through before taking a step out of the way and closer to Ashton. Tension was thick, but it eased once you saw the smile tugging at his lips. Score.

“He’s not too great at keeping his mouth shut, is he?” He looked at you expectantly, making your heart pound even faster.

“Guess not. He never was really.” You shared a grin of your own.

“Remember when we’d want some alone time?” Ashton said softly, straightening his tie again and keeping his eyes glued to your loving face. “I could never really tell him where we were going, next thing you know the whole crew would be with us in the dressing room.” The fondness of the statement made the both of you crack a smile now, it was hard during those years to actually enjoy some quiet time… maybe that’s another buffer in your development as partners. As people.

“Sorry you had to drag me everywhere you went all the time.” You giggled, Ashton instantly shook his head without a second to spare.

“Don’t be.” He waved a hand dismissively at you. “You got me through a lot, you got us through a lot. At the time you were so… normal. A real human being, without a camera, a microphone… you had a life before publicity. We didn’t.” Ashton explained, reaching out for your quivering hand. You had no idea you were shaking until this point, your nerves got the best of you.

“But—“

“That gave me no excuse to treat you the way that I did.” Ashton cut you off, and honestly, you weren’t mad about it because he had just finished your sentence for you. His thumb grazing your knuckles made your stomach turn, unable to hold back the urge to squeeze his hand in return.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. So fucking sorry.” Ashton shook his head, the sincerity in his half-lidded hazel eyes making your own eyes well up. “You shouldn’t have put up with me for that long, but, fuck… would you believe me if I told you I wanted to give you everything?”

“Just— please, stop. For just a second.” You pleaded, looking down at the floor. Without an argument, Ashton shut up. He took a deep breath, still holding your hand and tilting his head to try and look into your eyes.

“I was never angry at you, you know that? I didn’t mind that you needed space, I would have given it to you.” Another explanation to which he listened more intently than ever before, like you were teaching him the meaning of life right before his eyes. “It was your responsibility to know that, instead of leaving me feeling like… well, other reasons.” You mumbled, the implication clear of what you thought the end of your relationship was.

“I see.” Ashton hummed in understanding, feeling relief wash over him once you looked him in the eyes again. There was a bit of silence, making you hesitate to speak again. Thank god Ashton did for you. “Are you alright? Like, in general.”

You nodded, the hasty beating of your heart had come to a calm pattern now that the initial anxiety had washed away. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you?” Ashton replied the same way, nodding silently which brought a sentimental smile to your face.

“Missed you so much.” He admitted quietly, his voice breaking in a way that had the nerves in your palms tingling with empathy.

“Missed you too… saw you just got done with tour.” You matched his tone of voice, waiting to see if this game of imitating each other would end or if it was simply subconscious.

“Yeah, it was alright.” Ashton scoffed playfully, he loved performing. “Alright” was definitely an understatement for any show he played. However his sarcasm made you laugh again, god was it contagious… he couldn’t help himself from joining in.

There was something a bit different in your laughter, your voice cracked and faltered until a tear was slipping down your cheek and making a trail in its wake. Ashton’s hand slipped around your shoulders pulling you close as you squeezed your eyes shut to avoid letting anymore tears ruin your makeup.

“I… I don’t know why, I just—“

“Shh,” Ashton interrupted you once more, rubbing your shoulder as his lips pressed to your hair. “Don’t need to explain, s’okay.” He muttered, holding you in silence for a few moments letting you take control of your emotions.

“You smell like a fuckin’ gallon of hairspray.” Ashton teased, looking down as you pulled away and left a gentle smack to his chest. The white dress shirt he was wearing now stained with your makeup.

“Not my fault.” You scrunched up your nose, another beat going by as you noticed your makeup on his shirt. “Sorry about… that.”

“Oh, heavens— it’s terrible.” Ashton grinned, shaking his head as he tilted your chin with his pointer finger and his thumb. “It’s okay, it’s just a shirt.” He teased.

A sense of contentment washed over you, smiles adorned both of your faces as Ashton pulled away to grab his jacket from the bench.

“I appreciate you. Really— a lot.” You spoke a little more clearer than you have been, catching Ashton’s attention as you both headed back towards the door.

“I’m glad, um,” Ashton started to put his jacket on, stopping in front of the door to the party. “I’m gonna be in town for a while, would you..“ His hesitance made you smile, egging him on to finish his sentence. “Would you want to get coffee tomorrow?”

“That’s it?” You laughed, expecting a much more intense request than that. Ashton’s cheeks went pink, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’d like that.” A gentle response to soothe Ashton’s nerves just as he did yours.

“Okay.” He breathed, his lips curling into somewhat of an amused smirk. There was some pride in knowing he could still make you feel the way he did years ago, the wit and humor was still there, feelings weren’t too rough… Ashton was at peace once again. He opened the door for you, comically bowing and gesturing for you to walk in before him. Your own smile never faded, entering the venue once again with Ashton trailing behind you like the last year and a half never happened.

Another pass of relief and contentment, the two of you found Luke and the others fairly quickly just by the sound of Luke’s high pitched laugh. Glances were shared between the group, but not a single word was mentioned about how there wasn’t a thick black cloud of negative energy hanging above the two of you. It felt normal again. Normal amidst died down chaos and a place with these guys where you could be content.

Inevitably, fan accounts and press were screaming over your reunion with your ex-boyfriend the next morning. Coffee that day turned into a writing session, a writing session turned into a long night spent talking about what you had missed in each other's life and how intense everything had been up until this point.

[i4gonzalez]

Kylian Mbappé

FLUFF ALPHABET

FLUFF ALPHABET: kylian mbappé

summary: things about your relationship with kylian based on each letter of the alphabet. (this is right? idk how explain it)

notes: i had never done a fluff alphabet, so i’m a little insecure about it. anyway, be kind to me;)

ps: if you want me to make a separate imagine about any letter, please let me know.

english isn’t my native language, so i used translator for it

━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━

ATTRACTIVE: physically, kylian loves your smile. your smile was the first thing he noticed in you. kylian is sure that your smile improves his days and always tells you that. he does his best to see you smile every day. emotionally, kylian loves how positive you are. since he met you, he has also become a little more positive. you are like a walking ray of sunshine.

BABY: kylian never had a serious conversation with you about children. sometimes you made a mental list of names for babies, kylian always chose girl’s names while you chose boy’s. anyway, you agree that you are not ready to be parents yet.

CUDDLE: kylian knows that you love that he cuddle you in the back, so he always does. sometimes he also cuddles you supporting his head between your neck and your shoulder.

DREAMS: you two like to imagine yourself in the near future. kylian always imagines you together on the beach, having a lot of free time — since you don’t have much. kylian knows that you love the sea. maybe you could also adopt a dog, it would certainly be called petit (which means small in french)

EARLY MORNINGS: kylian wakes up early every day and — unlike you — this is not a problem for him. sometimes when kylian comes back from morning training on weekends, you are still sleeping or being too lazy to get out of bed. but when he is off he likes to enjoy lazy mornings with you, since you hate getting up early.

FIRST DATE: kylian was a little nervous while waiting for you at the restaurant. When you arrived, he handed you a bouquet of your favorite flower and you smiled. your smile made his nervousness go away and everything was more natural. you talked and laughed a lot that night. kylian gave you a ride to your house and felt very lucky to have gone out with you.

GRATITUDE: kylian feels very grateful and lucky to have you with him. kylian knows that it is not easy to have a relationship with a person who has a public life. since a few weeks of dating, paparazzis have started following you and you both know what the hell this is. after seeing you endure all this madness and several hate messages from his female fans, kylian was sure that you were the perfect person for him.

HONESTY: kylian is always an open book. he has no reason to lie and always talks to you about everything. he is also not very good at hiding things from you, even if it was something small like your surprise birthday party. you value honesty a lot, so you love the fact that kylian is so honest.

IMPRESSION: the first impression that kylian had about you was that you were like a walking ray of sunshine. you were always smiling and being kind to everyone around you. after you smiled at him, kylian was sure he had to ask you out.

JOKES: kylian is not a joker, but he makes a point of thinking and learning several jokes to make you laugh. he knows that you smile easily and loves your laugh. you try to make him laugh with some silly jokes too, but you can never finish them, since you end up laughing before the end. kylian loves it.

KEYS: one of kylian’s favorite memories is from the day he gave you the keys to his apartment. “what is this?” you asked, after seeing that kylian gave you a small golden key. “this is the key to my apartment,” he said. “well... now it’s our apartment, right?” kylian asked, making you smile. “is that serious?! damn k, i love you!” you hugged him and then kissed him for a while.

LOVE LANGUAGE: kylian’s love language is physical touch. he loves to hug you, hold your hands and be together with you. kylian knows that your love language are words of affirmation, so he always makes a point of praising you and telling you how much he loves you. you’ve never been a big fan of hugs, but kylian’s are an exception. his hugs makes your day so much better.

MARRIAGE: kylian and you really want to get married one day. you two are waiting for the right moment. you agree that it would be something small, only with close friends and family. you and kylian imagine what your married life will be like — with ups and downs, like every couple — but for sure the honeymoon is the best part. you two would love to go somewhere that have sea. boats are also indispensable!

NICKNAMES: since the beginning of your relationship, kylian calls you mon soleil (which means my sun in french). you just call him k because you always thought these nicknames with initials were cool.

OBSESSIONS: kylian knows that you love shells. you have a collection of shells (like a kid); there are small, big, beautiful and common. he always makes a point of getting some shells for you every time he goes to the beach.

PETS: kylian and you don’t have any pets. you’ve wanted a dog before, but you realized that neither of you have enough time to take care of one. even so, you have a list of names for dogs on his phone notes. the first name on the list is petit.

QUESTIONS: kylian and you always make a point of asking each other thoughtful questions every day. “how was your day?” and “you know that I love you, right?” are in your vocabulary.

RAINY DAYS: just like you, kylian hates rainy days. even so, when he’s off, he takes the opportunity to rest and watch several series with you. he prefers action series, but ends up giving in when you try to convince him to watch romantic series like bridgerton or normal people.

SONGS: on your first date, the song la vie en rose by emily watts played on the radio. this is your couple’s song. kylian has a very different musical taste from yours. but when you are together in his car, kylian lets you choose the songs you want — even knowing that you will listen to taylor swift all the way.

TIME: kylian and you are a couple for a year and a half. after some dates, kylian asked if you wanted to be his girlfriend — and you obviously accepted.

UPSET: when you is upset, kylian make his better for cheer you up. sometimes, he just seat on your side and be a support for you.

VALENTINE’S DAY: valentine’s day is your favorite date. kylian always does his best to spend as much time with you, in addition to giving you lots of gifts and chocolates. you always make cute cards for kylian.

WORDS OF AFFIRMATION: kylian always tells you many words of affirmation, since this is his main language of love. he also loves to praise you in french, kylian always says things like “tu es belle” (you are so pretty), “je t’aime mon amour”, (i love you, darling) “vous êtes si intelligent!” (you’re so smart!). you love when kylian speaks in french.

XO: you and kylian are the kind of couple who loves to hug and be together. you two always find a way to touch each other physically. you walk hand in hand, kiss and hug each other all the time. physical touch is the basis of your relationship.

YES: the happiest day of your life was when kylian asked you to date with him. it was on your eighth date, kylian took you to a surprise restaurant, the place was very beautiful and elegant. he seemed a little nervous, so he gave you flowers and held out the ring, kylian said “y/n, i love you! do you want to date me?”. you smiled and obviously say yes.

ZOO: a few months ago, you saw a giraffe while scrolling your instagram feed. that was enough for you to really want to see a giraffe in real life. so, you spent several days asking kylian to take you to the zoo and after some time you finally went. taking some pictures with a giraffe and seeing it in person was amazing, this will definitely be one of the coolest things you’ve done. despite not being a big fan of giraffes, kylian liked to see you so excited and happy.

━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━ ━━━

★ the requests are open! you can also send requests to social media fics or fluff alphabets.

[saragarnier]

Love&Work

summary: y/n is a police officer that had a situationship with Jay Halstead, but after him there's another one and he discovered it in the worst way possible.

pairing: jay halstead x reader

warning: i don't know actually, maybe some angst(?) and swearing? mention of sec, just mention.

i don't really like this but i spent so much time on it, that's why i want to share it with you. tell me what you think guys and if you like it i can write a part 2, maybe.

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Being a female cop was not easy at all, and you knew that even before entering the police academy; you knew that you would have to demonstrate your value, to demonstrate that you deserved that badge, you deserved to be a cop. It was clear to you since the first moment you decided to be a police officer and you tried to show your value since the first day into the academy.

When you were assigned at the 17th district, you were happy to start your career as a police officer and you just wanted to do your job in the right way, but it wasn’t like you expected. Since the first day you felt judge by everyone in the district, expect for the other female police officers, even if there were few of them. Your partner wasn’t happy about having you by his side, but he accepted that, and he just tried to keep as much distance as he could between him and you, like you were an alien or something to avoid.

Besides that, the first two year in that district went very well; you did your job well and you saved lives, even your partner’s live when he got shot during one shift. Even if you saved him, covering him and applying pressure on his chest, he never really thanked you for what you did; you weren’t angry at all, you knew how it worked and you knew that it was too early to be considered a good agent on the field, especially since you were one of the few women in a men’s world, because that’s what police was considered: a job only for men.

Someone maybe thought that it wasn’t true, there would have been at least someone who thought that women in police was an amazing thing, but surely it wasn’t like that in the 17th.

The only thing you could have done to making thing worse would have been sleeping with someone that worked in the same district as you. You tried to avoid that, you really tried to keep things separated between your private life and your job, but you lost. One night, you met one of the detectives that worked in the 17th district, and you took a beer with him, thinking that there wasn’t nothing bad about it; after some beers, anyway, he kissed you and everything changed.

The next day, everyone knew about it inside the district, and everyone thought that were trying to get a promotion sleeping with one of the detectives. You were fucked.

Asking for a transfer was the only choice for you and that’s how you met him, Jay Halstead. He was just a man sitting in a bar when you first met him, you didn’t know he was a detective and he didn’t know that you were a police officer; you were just two people in a bar, having a drink together. That night you slept at his home and the next morning you were gone, thinking that you wouldn’t have met him again.

Obviously, you were wrong. God, you were definitely wrong.

When you discovered, on your first day at the 21st, that he was a detective in your new district, you both tried to keep that a secret and you also tried to pretend that nothing happened between you two, but you just couldn’t deny the attraction that there was between you and him. And after few weeks you both lost.

 You tried to keep it a secret as long as you kept sleeping together, and, when you ended it weeks after, you were relieved to discovered that he protected you without telling anybody what happened between you two. You were grateful for that because you wouldn’t have been able to deal with it another time.

Even if you were still working hard to become one of sergeant Voight’s detectives, you couldn’t deny that some kind of attraction formed between you and your partner, Sean Roman, after some months. Maybe it was because he was always so kind with you, maybe because you spent so much time together, maybe because you went through difficult moments together, but you ended up dating each other in secret. You weren’t sure if you started dating him trying to forget Jay, since you were pretty sure to have fallen in love with the detective, but you just tried to enjoy that moment, you tried to live it without making to yourself too many questions. You were confused about your feelings, you really were, and you needed time alone to think about it, especially since you started dating Roman right after you heard that Jay dated one of his CI.

It then something happened when you didn’t expect it.

You and Roman were just kissing each other on a night shift, taking just few minutes for yourselves, when it happened. It was a calm night, nothing happened ‘till that moment and you didn’t think that things could have gone worse in less than a minute. You were too much focused in kissing him that you didn’t hear the footsteps, nor you saw him approaching the car were you and Roman were into. The first things you heard were the gunshots fired against you; you didn’t catch a single bullet but Roman did, he caught every single shot and you screamed.

“Sean!”

You got out of the car, seeing a man running away in the dark of the night, picked up your gun and followed him at once, asking for backup and for an ambulance at the radio. You really hoped that Sean was okay, you really hoped that he was still alive and that he would have survived; he took at least three bullet and that all because you both were too focused on kissing than in everything else. You shout at the offender to stop, but he didn’t and, knowing that he had a gun, you just shot him, hitting him in his back; he fell on the ground, you handcuffed him immediately, bringing him with you to your car. You needed to be sure that Sean was still alive.

That night was like hell for you: Sean got a surgery and, fortunately, he survived, the offender was brought to the hospital as well but no-one found the gun on him and that’s why you were there, one month later, sitting in a court to testimony your version against the man who almost killed your partner. Everyone from the district was there with you, trying to give you, their support. There was Platt, Voight, Upton, Burgess, Ruzek, Atwater, few of the other patrol officers and even Jay, in all his beauty.

When the defence lawyer got up to ask you some question, you didn’t expect this.

“So, miss y/l/n, I heard that you usually date your colleagues, isn’t it?”

You at once got tense on your chair, looking at Jay and Sean, nervous. Sean knew everything about your “relationship” with Jay, but no-one else did so you should have been relaxed about that. Maybe he was just talking about the thing you had with the detective from your previous district, after all.

But it was not like that, not at all.

Before your lawyer could have even protested, the defence talked to the judge, explaining to him why he did that question.

“Before I got interrupt, I just want to understand if anything happened in that car that could have bring the test to us violence against an innocence without even considering that he wasn’t the offender. I’m pretty sure that the jury would want to see what I found. She had her reasons to react badly, without thinking and I just wanted to expose that.”

You froze, gulping; you really hoped that the judge would have refused, but he let him continue.

“Miss y/l/n, did you have a relationship with one of the detectives back at your previous district?”

 “It wasn’t a relationship.” You responded, tense.

“What was it, so?”

“I slept with one of the detectives, yes. It was just for one night and I was drunk.”

The layer chuckled, like he had you in his fist, under his control, and maybe he really did.

“But it wasn’t the last colleagues that you dated, right?”

Before you could have answered, your lawyer protested again, but he was stop by the judge for the second time in a row; you were fucked, you wouldn’t have been able to avoid that, you couldn’t lie  under oath, you had to tell the truth.

But how did he know?

“No, it wasn’t the last.” You answered, quietly. You looked at him, trying to avoid Jay’s gaze, trying to be relaxed, trying to be strong; you didn’t want to give up, you would have fought again and again if it was necessary. You had to tell the truth and you really didn’t want to, but since you had no choice, you wanted to do it with your dignity.

“Who was the next? And remember that you’re testifying under oath.”

You looked at him in the eyes, biting your bottom lip.

“It was Detective Halstead.” You answered. “But I met him the night before my new job at the 21st so-.”

Before you could have even finished the sentence, he stopped you, smiling widely; you felt Jay’s and every other’s gaze on you, and you felt embarrassed for the first time after you entered the police. Why was he asking you that? Why was he trying to make you lose your job? Why were your love stories important to the case? That man almost killed your partner, and he was torturing you now.

“You just have to answer my question, miss y/l/n. Now, was Detective Halstead the last police officer that you dated so far?”

And that was it.

You finally understood why he was asking you so many questions about your private life; he was trying to make the jury thinks that you shot that guy without thinking at it lucidly just because you were dating Sean. He was trying to blame you, to make everyone think that you confounded him and that because you were shocked not only because Sean was your partner but also because you were in love with him.

Were you, though?

“No.” you answered, feeling Jay’s gaze still on you; you didn’t have the courage to look at him or to look at the others, especially not to sergeant Voight, knowing that you probably have just lost the opportunity to enter the team since you slept with Jay. You lost your career, you lost your dignity, since your private and sec life was put on public, and you were now accused of being a bad police officer.

Beautiful day, wasn’t it?

“Evidence number seventeen, I just got it this morning and I couldn’t inform the accuse before the process. Now …” he got near you and handed you one pic, the same that he just gave to your lawyer and to the jury. “Was that you kissing your partner Sean Roman the night of the attack?”

You gulped, then you looked up and finally you ended up meeting his gaze, Jay’s gaze. He looked hurt and furious at the same time, even if you knew that he had no right to be; you stopped sleeping together almost two months before and he even had a thing with one of his CI, which was illegal, so he had no right to look at you that way. You were the one that would have lost his job, not him, not Roman, you. You were the one that would have been called bitch and slut just because you ended up in the same bed with some of your colleagues and you were affronting that trial, exposing yourself like you hadn’t done before.

“Yes, that was me.” You answered, trying to sound as much calm as you could.

“Now tell me. Were you shooting at my client because you really thought that he was the offender, even if he hadn’t a gun with himself, or were you just trying to revenge your boyfriend without thinking at all? Were you just trying to get revenge? Were you sure about the gun that you think he had? Were you lucid enough to arrest the same man that you thought shot your boyfriend? Was the woman that pulled that trigger the police officer or just a girlfriend trying to protect his partner?”

“Your Honor! That were not questions, he was trying to induce the jury to think his way!” Protested your Lawyer before you could have responded.

The judge, this time, agreed with the accuse and tried to induce the jury to not consider his last questions when it would have come to a verdict. Anyways, you ended up leaving the court knowing that everything you’d done in the past to prove how much you deserved to become a detective, simply wasn’t nothing anymore. You would have been remembered as the female cop that ended up in the same bed with three colleagues, not as the police officer that saved a child, not as the police officer that almost risked her life to save his partner and Jay, not as the police officer that got undercover with the Intelligence to help them with a serial killer.

Your image was fucked.

You were nothing now.

You lost everything.

You lost your dignity.

And even after that, all you could think about was Jay’s expression after he heard about you and Sean; that was when you finally discovered that you really fell in love with him: when you worried about him while your career, dignity and future were crumbling all around you. All you need to be happy again was just one of his hugs. That was what you needed.

Him.

[risnabeaute]

🫧💗✨ Self- Love Needed! 🫧💗✨

hi beautes! 👋🏻♡ ̆̈ I want to share my opinion about self love this time, because yesterday I was feel lost and confused about myself. Having a great concern for your own happiness and well-being is a sign of self-love. Taking care of your needs and not compromising your wellbeing in order to appease others are key components of self-love. Not settling for less than what you deserve is a sign of self-love. Since we all have different ways of taking care of ourselves, self-love can mean different things to different people. Determining what self-love means to you personally is crucial to your mental well-being.

For the enchantment of self-love is something you make for yourself, not something that is thrust upon you, let me ask you to do this. Settle into a calm and serene area, prepare a cup of your favorite tea or coffee, and disconnect from all potential sources of distraction. This will assist you in taking the time and care that you need for yourself. You've already taken a step toward self-love by grounding yourself in this way and giving your all to whatever comes next.

I was really sad yesterday because I feel im not loved, im not worthy of anything and everything getting worst. But I relized I have to manage and controlling myself before myself controlling me, yes that sounds so pity to me but its real. To begin with its not necessary for pursuing radical individualism in order to love myself. It also means letting people love us even when we don't feel worthy of love. Because we tend to punish ourselves severely for not being perfect at loving ourselves, handling our emotions, understanding ourselves, praising ourselves, and feeling confident about ourselves, even when we do our best to do so. We will come to understand that we are never fighting this struggle alone if we allow people in. Then I Ask for assistance what I feel.

Yes, it might be challenging to love who you are. It takes severe consideration and focused action, especially because it's quite simple to give back into feelings of self-love that are accompanied by anxiety, bitterness and and even hatred. In light of this, loving yourself calls for a great deal of courage and strength because it necessitates being honest with oneself and taking a close look at your identity and values. Accepting your flaws, errors, and all of your incorrect turns and poor judgments requires you to embrace everything about you, without exception. This is what it means to love yourself.

You have a generally favorable self-perception when you love who you are. This does not imply that you always have a favorable self-image. That's not easy at all! Accepting yourself for who you are right now, flaws and all, is the definition of self-love. It entails prioritizing your physical, emotional, and mental well-being and accepting your feelings for who you are. And then I slowly love my self, and this 3 ways what I do when I feel unloved:

1. DO NOT LOCKED YOURSELF!!

"My advice to you is please don't ever sit in your room and lock yourself away because you don't think you're good enough" -Catherine Tate

When I was upset at teenage I always locked myself in my bedroom then I cried loud, I felt empty, unloved, angry and unworthy at all. And it really sucks, Please, go outside and see beautifull world! There is one thousand reason to smile, to be grateful for what you have, it is not by compring yourself to others but believed that everyone is so beautifull, learn how to love, look for what makes you happy. Go to coffeshop and read book it really make myself better and You so.

2. Belive in Yourself!

Darling, You glow differently, trust me. The key that opens the ignition and starts the car is similar to the belief we have in ourselves. Honestly, without it, we can't get very far. Thoughts, attitudes, and behaviors that aren't in line with our objectives prevent us from moving forward, no matter how hard we try. Consequently, we either fail to accomplish our goals or we intentionally harm ourselves along the way, sometimes in ways that are evident to us and sometimes completely hidden from us. When I belived myself I feel lived, I feel everything happens for reason and I have a purpose to do. So do you are love.

3. Celebrate Yourself!

The act of appreciating who you are right now—rather than who you hope to become or who you view yourself as—is known as self-celebration. It's about standing in your own strength right now, supporting and believing in yourself. And for any cause, at any time, wherever, you can celebrate who you are. This isn't egoistic.

You know what, I used to think that Im not worth it all to celebrate every accomplishment in my life, I think others have more bigger than mine. I relise its all wrong. I have to celebrate mine too.

For example, my birthday was last month, and many people think it's ridiculous that I still celebrate in my life. Do you truly mean it when you say "it's just another day" or "presents aren't important" or "I'd rather forget it's my birthday"? No matter how strongly you believe their truth, it's your birthday, and let's be honest, everyone wants to feel recognized, even if only in modest ways. My birthday has always been a major deal for me, since I can remember, and I look for every reason to celebrate it during the entire month, as well as inviting my beloved best buddies. So there is a picture of mine when I celebrate myself. Lets celebrate ourself!!!!, xo -Risnabeautes

happiest girls are the prettiest

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒₊˚*ੈ🎀⸝⸝🍓✩‧₊˚˃̵ᴗ˂̵𓍢ִ໋🌷֒✧ ༘ ⋆｡♡✧˚ ʚɞ˚ ༘✿ ♡ ⋆｡

[ya-zz]

I just found your work and I’m in love!

I have a small req-

How’d you think Rama would react to s/o having a panic attack?

LMAO YEAH THE 50+ NOTIFICATIONS TOLD ME THAT hahah

Thank you so much though! I endorse the spamming, makes me feel all warm inside ♥

oh hey, my gif is in the Ramattra search- perfect time to use it... (I may try and get one in Shambali Monastery on Friday evening... I kinda wanna get a few different backgrounds for people to use...)

Ramattra x Reader (gen)

Word count: 1107

Ramattra was close to you, more so than with any other human. He didn’t hide it, in fact he openly expressed that he enjoyed spending time with you. Just the thought of being around you brought a warmth within his wires, something of which he enjoyed greatly. 

Seeing you happy made him happy, it made him fall for you more and more. Being able to see your smile everyday made it worth the restless nights he’d spend in his quarters waiting for the sun to rise. As an omnic who rarely, if at all slept, the hours would pass by slowly, almost torturing him. 

Of course, he never made a move, valuing the friendship he had grown with you. He put his feelings aside just so he could keep being by your side. It was the one thing he did keep secret from you and everyone else - that he loved you.

However, as of late, things had been tense around you. The mood swings caught him off guard and he felt constantly on edge as if he had done something wrong. No matter how many times you would reassure him that he hadn’t done anything bad towards you, there was still a twinge of doubt coursing through his wires.

He kept a small distance with you, not wanting to hurt you further despite your assurance. He felt guilty for something he hadn’t done and you noticed it. You were somewhat grateful for the distance, being allowed to dwell with your own thoughts for awhile. 

There was a day, however, when he didn’t see you at all. He was worried, he wouldn’t lie about that. There was a slight twitch in his hands as he’d work, his mind wandering to you and what you were doing.

Only when he ventured outside did he finally find you. You were laying on the ground, staring up into the endless sky as the clouds rolled in and threatened to rain. He approached you, not wanting to alarm you. 

“Hey Ramattra…” You speak out, not moving as you heard the larger omnic approach you from the right. 

“Is everything ok, [y/n]?” He asked, standing above you and looking down as his wires hanged loosely around his head. His shadow covered your face. 

You keep your eyes on him. “Yeah. You wanna sit down with me?” 

“Can I?” 

“Sure. Some company wouldn’t hurt.” You smile, still looking up at him and finally turning when he moves to sit next to you. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, looking down at you. 

“Nothing important.” 

“Are you sure? You have been acting strange lately.” He cocks his head to the side slightly, optics looking at you.

“Sorry. Just some past trauma coming up…” You turn you head back, looking up at the sky again. 

“Oh? Would you-”

“Not really… Just thinking about it is bad enough…” You cut him off. 

He lets out a small hum, turning to face the mountains in the distance. “I am here for you, you know that, right?” 

“Yeah, thank you.” You smile gently, keeping your focus on the sky. 

The both of you stayed quiet, the afternoon going by peacefully until your small whimpers broke the silence. 

Ramattra looks over at you, noticing how you were asleep, chest rising and falling in an erratic rhythm. Your breathing was shallow, eyes shut tight and body shaking as you turn your head to the side, swallowing a hard lump in your throat. 

His sensors picked up a small warning coming from your body, your heart rate increasing quickly as you laid there on the grass. 

“[y/n]...?” His voice was low as he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “[y/n], is everything ok?” He could feel the panic rising in his circuitry, something of which he hadn’t felt for a long time. 

You stirred awake, eyes blinking to adjust to the daylight, your body still in a state of panic as you turn to look at the omnic, tears brimming in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He spoke quietly, unsure on what to do.

You shifted, sitting up and placing a hand on your chest in hopes to calm yourself down but nothing was working. Your body shook violently as endless traumatic thoughts raced through your head. 

Ramattra grabbed your free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, hoping it would help in someway. When you squeezed his hand back in response, he leant over and pulled you closely to him, the quiet hum of his body aiding you in calming down. 

With the side of your head pressed against his chest, you could hear his inner workings, the soft hum of electric coursing through his body, the soft clicks as he moved his hand to gentle pet your head.

He had heard of humans having panic attacks, thinking them weak for overthinking, but seeing you in distress made him realise that it was more than that. He still had a lot to learn about humans, especially you. 

Eventually, after some time, he felt your body relax against him, the shaking had stopped and your heartbeat a normal rhythm alongside your breathing. He let out a soft sigh, hand not leaving your head as he continued to pet it, gently stroking down your scalp in soothing motions. His other hand had rested on your lower back, another gentle up and down motion. 

Some time passed as you stayed in his embrace, not wanting to move until he finally spoke.

“Are you ok?” 

You look up at him, a small nod and smile. “Yeah… Thank you…” 

“It was nothing.” He tilted his head slightly, optics scanning you. 

You rest your head back onto his chest. “Sorry you had to witness that…” 

“There is nothing to apologise for. I am glad I was here to help.” He continued his motions on your head and back, still keeping you grounded. 

“I usually deal with them myself…” You admitted shamefully. 

“Come to me if you need to. No matter the time. I do not want you to suffer.” He leans down, placing his forehead on top of your head.

A soft sigh escapes you as you lean in closer to him, smiling gently. “Thank you…” 

Ramattra felt at peace with you in his arms, looking out across the mountains. He felt even closer to you now than he did prior, the feelings inside only growing more with each passing minute. He wanted to care for you, to be there for you as much as you’d let him, through the happy times and the painful - he wanted nothing more than to be by your side.

[chattychatty4]

A sneak peek into my Sir Sparklepuff survives fanfic!

Son of Doom (name not decided yet so it may change)

Chapter 1

Two years earlier…

Leo continued pacing back and forth in the courtyard, gently kicking rocks in front of him to the side as he did, cleaning his stone path of any interruptions.

“There’s no synonym for cinnamon. There’s no synonym for cinnamon. There’s no synonym for cinnamon…” his famous calming mantra. Though, he knew deep down he didn’t own it or create it; he felt he learned it somewhere. He’s felt that way about it since he began using it as a way to calm down, since he was around 6 years old.

What an age to start getting stressed out about everything.

Leo didn’t really know what he was stressing out about, that happened quite often. He had a vague picture in his mind of what he was stressing about, though he didn’t know exactly how to describe it.

Maybe it’s the fact that he was made from dark magic and will never be pure.

Maybe it’s the thought of everyone thinking he’s “too elf” to be human but “too mortal” to be a startouch elf.

Maybe it’s because his biological parents were two evil mages who wanted to destroy the world.

Maybe it’s because he’ll never be able to know and love his real parents like others did.

Maybe it’s because Soren and Corvus will never be his true parents.

From the sidelines, Soren watched him from a bench with Corvus. Exchanging glances with each other every once in a while. Probably concerned for the well being of their “brother”. This was one of the first times Leo had actually paced in public, in front of them.

“Leonardo.” Soren said sternly, grabbing his attention as he swung his head to meet his eyes.

“Leo, what’s making you so anxious? What’s wrong? Something is wrong.”

“It’s nothing, Soren.”

“Something is obviously eating at you, just tell me.”

“What could I possibly be worried about? I’m 14 years old, I have a loving family-ish group; hell, I wouldn’t be alive today if I hadn’t gotten lucky and chosen to run from the beach when I was a baby; I’m not starving, I’m not in poverty, I’m not sick, I’m among the top grades in all of my classes in school. Everything is fine, Soren.” Leo argued with growing anger in his voice.

“… Leo, that doesn’t mean that you don’t have the ability to be stressed. Plus, you shouldn’t be giving me attitude when I asked a simple question that we are close enough to be able to discuss. Corvus and I have been working hard to give you a safe environment to be able to speak your mind since you were three.” Soren said, starting to rise from his seat.

“Well, too bad! I’m not answering your question, Soren!” Leo shouted. All he wanted was to get back to pacing. Soren was just making things worse. As usual.

“Just tell us what we can do to help! We care for you, Leo! So why don’t you just tell us so we can make it better for you?!”

“Maybe you and Corvus should just leave, go take up more training for situations like this, learn to let me be stressed sometimes, maybe learn to be better DADS!” Leo paused with his fists curled up.

This was the first time he called them his dads. During an argument. To insult them. They weren’t even bad dads. In fact, they were possibly the best dads.

Of any time in his life he could’ve called them dads.

Like when they taught him simple sword tricks for the first time when he was seven. Or when they-or Corvus-began teaching him how to read. When they taught him more words other than “blood of child”. When they held him during some of the scariest moments of his life.

When they taught him how to love himself. When they taught him the value of his love. When they showed him more love than anyone had ever given him.

When they cared for him so much more than anyone ever would.

Leo could certainly see this specific moment being remembered for years to come. First time he called Soren and Corvus his dads. Such a grateful move.

They stared at Leo for a while. Soren seemed infuriated, his shoulders tense, like he wanted to holler the “GO TO YOUR ROOM” that could be heard from all the way in Xadia.

Corvus also had a similar angry yet solemn face, not as intense as Soren’s.

Soren sighed, his shoulders drooping. “Come on, Corvus. He’s right. He should be able to express his emotions with us. We said that this is a safe environment to be able to express his mind. He deserves some space.”

They both held hands and walked off, to find something else to do.

Leo stood where he was, staring at the bench where Soren and Corvus were just sitting. Wanting to cry his eyes out.

[kallie-den]

The Victim

Steph, a trans girl at a traditionalist college, suffers a curse that turns everyone around her into cruel, sadistic bullies. But is it really a curse at all? That depends on how she feels about it - and who comes near her

This was another story voted on my by patrons! I'd also like to make clear that it doesn't involve any transphobia directed at the main character

If you enjoy my work and are looking for more, or you want to support me, I strongly encourage you to check out my Patreon! I  write erotica full-time, which means I need your patronage to keep creating, and my Patrons also get benefits like early access to my stories, extra stories, and the ability to vote on what I write next! So, if that sounds good to you, head over and join the couple hundred patrons I already have :)

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The pain of impact on still-fresh bruises was something Steph had come to know intimately. It tasted like metal in her mouth; like a white flash, like a thunderbolt that made her ears ring hot. It made her retreat into herself for a moment, and all the hard, cruel words being thrown at her briefly became nothing but noise. It made Steph almost grateful for the pain. But it didn’t last. It never lasted. The pain receded, and the world came back into focus.

And with it, the words.

“Look at this freak!” said the girl who had just shoved Steph back into the stairwell railing. Her pretty voice was twisted by gleeful spite. “She’s enjoying this.”

Steph’s body quivered in treasonous rapture. She tugged at the hem of her long turtleneck sweater, hoping to disguise any further reactions her body might be having. As she did, she tried to tell herself: it wasn’t their fault. It wasn’t their fault. They couldn’t help themselves.

“She really is,” sneered another girl. She jabbed at Steph with a hard, accusative finger. “Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

It was a familiar question, and Steph hated the way it still made her whimper. She’d heard it so many times, from so many people. She wasn’t sure which girl had said it. She stared determinedly at the ground, unwilling to check. She didn’t want to remember, and she didn’t want to see that awful look she knew she’d find in their eyes; a bright light, shining through frosted glass.

It didn’t matter who these girls were. Steph hadn’t recognized any of them when they had cornered her. They were the usual type, though. Brash, outgoing, loud, mean. Bad girls. Natural bullies, not that there was anything natural about this. Those were always the first. Steph sometimes wondered why. Was it personality, or just proximity? But in the end, that didn’t matter either.

And it wasn’t their fault. Never their fault.

Steph had hoped it would end when she left school and came to college. That’s how it was supposed to go, wasn’t it? College was where you outgrew your bullies. She’d chosen this college in particular largely because of its upper-crust, old-fashioned values. It promised to enforce strict standards of conduct on all its students, and boasted a zero-tolerance policy towards bullying or prejudice of any kind. That was very important to Steph, both because she was trans and because of her unique situation. She’d hoped that those policies and values would set her free from what plagued her.

A forlorn hope.

“Hey!” A jabbing finger hit on another old bruise. It felt like a knife. “We asked you a question, freak. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?”

Steph just nodded. That was what they wanted, wasn’t it? So what was the point in doing anything else?

Their chorus of laughter felt like teeth on her skin. Steph tried to clamp down hard on everything their mockery made her feel. She just needed to get through this. They’d get bored. They’d lost interest.

For today, at least.

“She doesn’t look ashamed,” one of the girls said. Her voice was so thick with mirth it almost made her voice catch. “She looks like she’s having the ride of her life.”

That pierced Steph’s armor. She twitched violently, pulling tighter on the hem of her sweater. Could they see what she was trying to hide? Maybe. She was tall; taller than any of them, even when she was stooping. She hated being so tall, especially given her condition. She hated being so visible. She needed to hide.

But the girls bullying her were closing in. Their hands were all over her, pushing and prodding, coaxing and squeezing. Threatening to tug her own hands aside. There was only so much Steph could handle, and only so much she could hide. She could feel herself blushing and sweating and shaking. Each one of their cruel laughs made it worse.

And their scents. She couldn’t block that out. Not when they were all around like this. They smelled nice. Sweet. Floral. Why did that make it so much worse? One more cruel comment, and Steph might just-

“Hey, girls,” one of them said. She sounded deeper than the others. Drunker, on Steph’s influence. “What do you say we see what’s going on under these ugly-ass clothes?”

Steph saw white. She twitched and throbbed. No. No, no, no. She needed to get a hold of herself. She needed to stop this. It was getting out of control.

But clear thinking was the very last thing she was capable of.

“N-n-noo,” Steph bleated pathetically. “You c-can’t…”

They just laughed, of course, and their laughter made Steph feel weak all over. So weak, she couldn’t stop them when they started to peel her hands away from the hem of her sweater. Soon, they’d-

“Stop that right now!”

That sudden, piercing, commanding voice left silence in its wake. All the girls bullying Steph turned to look, and that alone was an unspeakable mercy, like stepping from scorching sunlight into the. Every moment she was out of the spotlight was a moment she could use to collect herself. After taking a few deep breaths, the room around Steph stopped spinning and she was able to get a good look at her savior.

Veronica Martin.

Her reputation preceded her, although Steph had only ever actually seen her once when, in her capacity as head of student government, she’d made a speech to all the new freshmen about the school’s strict morals and high standards. In the flesh, anyway. Her image was also plastered all over the college’s promotional material. By all accounts, she was a paragon of virtue, and the perfect embodiment of all the school’s most highly-prized values.

Steph dared to hope. Maybe she was actually saved.

Veronica certainly looked like a paragon. Tall - though not as tall as Steph - with silky, black, waist-length hair, she was classically beautiful and projected a kind of serene calm that somehow made everyone around her want to win her approval and live up to her toweringly high standards. There was nothing calm about her now, though. Her face was drawn into a look of righteous, thunderous fury as she glared at the girls surrounding Steph.

“What’s going on here?” she demanded, gliding towards them.

The girls exchanged looks and titters, making a show of their bravado, but they were nervous. Steph could tell.

“Nothing, Veronica,” one of them drawled. The ringleader. “Just some girls, hanging out.”

“Really?” Veronica raised an incredulous eyebrow. “Do you expect me to believe that for even one moment? You were clearly hassling this poor girl.”

There were a few more nervous giggles. “I dunno,” the girl shot back. “Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

She was obviously counting on Steph to be so cowed that she’d go along with the pathetic ruse. Shamefully, it might have worked. Steph could already feel the weight of their malicious expectations on her shoulders. Why was she so weak?

“Hm.” Veronica pursed her lips as she looked at Steph. “I’m guessing she’s too scared of you to tell. But I’m not scared of petty little bullies. I’m more than happy to take this to the dean myself.”

“Please!” the girls’ ringleader scoffed. “Like he’s gonna have anything to say about a little friendly horseplay between girls.” She took a long look at Veronica, and her face twisted into a crafty, wicked, grin. “Say, Veronica, why don’t you join us? You look like you could do with blowing off a little steam.”

Steph shivered uncomfortably. Veronica, for her part, looked outraged. “Excuse me?”

“C’mon,” the girl wheedled. “You’d be surprised. I bet even you could get into our kind of fun. Don’t worry, she enjoys it too.” She nodded to Steph. “And I promise. The freak totally deserves it.”

That comment, more than any other, made Steph’s body flush with sinful heat. She closed her eyes for a moment, dreading what might have been about to happen. Mercifully, though, Veronica held firm.

“You’re vile,” she spat. “And fortunately, I don’t need anybody to admit to anything. Except for her, all of you are in violation of the school’s dress code. Heather, that skirt is obviously more than an inch above your knee. Regina, your collar is far too low. What do you think the dean would have to say about that, hm?”

A chorus of groans went up from all around Steph.

“Writing us up for dress code violations?” complained the first girl - Heather. “Are you for real?”

“I absolutely am.” Veronica folded her arms and smiled. She knew she’d won. “In fact, it would be my pleasure. So, what do you think? Do you want to run along and get changed into some more modest clothes?”

Heather glanced around at her lackeys. Even to Steph, it was obvious that their resolve was wavering. Eventually, she sighed.

“Whatever,” she groaned, surrendering. “Girls, let’s leave this stick-up-her-ass loser in the dirt.”

Moving as a pack, they started heading down the stairwell towards the exit - although before she left, Heather flashed a cruel, furious look at Steph.

“You’ll pay for this later, freak,” she snarled under her breath.

Steph shivered at what that might mean, and hated how hot it made her body.

Once they were gone, Veronica rushed to her side. The fury washed away from her face, replaced by a look of intense concern and compassion.

“Are you OK?” she asked urgently. “Did they hurt you? How badly?”

It was a lovely gesture, but her proximity set another knot in Steph’s stomach.

“N-no,” Steph started to say. “I’m f-fine, just- ah!”

Her lie was exposed when Veronica grabbed her wrist - it was only meant to be a gentle, reassuring touch, but she touched on a sensitive bruise and made Steph wince and yelp. Veronica’s frown deepened.

“You don’t need to be afraid of them,” she said gently. “I promise. Here, come with me.”

“B-but…” Steph whined as Veronica tugged at her, trying to lead her away. She needed to get out of here at once.

It’s not that she wasn’t grateful. She was. She was overflowing with gratitude towards Veronica. That was exactly the reason she needed to escape from her.

“Hey, hey,” Veronica soothed, mistaking the source of Steph’s distress. “Don’t worry. They can’t hurt you anymore. Let’s get you somewhere safe.”

“I… I… b-but…” Steph whined, but soon gave up resisting. Resistance wasn’t in her nature.

Besides, it was clear that Veronica wasn’t going to be dissuaded so easily. Steph decided her best bet was to go along with her and try to assuage her worries as quickly as possible. Surely it wouldn’t be long until she let Steph flee back to her dorm room.

For now, though, Veronica took her back up the stairwell and into an empty classroom. She carefully shut the door, and then made Steph perch on one of the desks while she fussed over her, checking her for injuries and smoothing out her clothes.

“So,” Veronica said to her, “how long has this been going on?”

Steph didn’t know what to say. Veronica’s proximity was making her unbelievably nervous. “It’s… n-not…”

Veronica sighed, but put a comforting hand on her arm. “Don’t look so afraid,” she said kindly. “I’m not going to drag it out of you. And I’m certainly not going to punish you. I won’t even report this without your permission. I’m on your side, OK? I just want you to know that. I’m on your side, and I can make sure that other people are too.”

“I m-meant…” Steph looked down miserably as she was struck by a pang of guilt. “I meant it’s not their fault.”

Veronica glanced up in alarm. “Of course it is,” she said sharply. “They’re responsible for their own choices. Like choosing to hurt you.”

Steph let out a pathetic laugh. “Not… exactly.”

“Why would you say that?” Veronica sounded like her heart was breaking. “Did they make you feel that way? Did something happen?”

“U-um, n-no.” Belatedly, Steph realized she’d said too much. “No, no, t-that’s not-“

“Oh yes it did.” Veronica perched next to her. “What’s your name?”

“Steph.”

“Steph, I know I said I wouldn’t report this without your permission. And I stand by that. But… I can’t pretend I didn’t see what I saw in that stairwell. Understand? And I know those girls well enough to know they won’t lay off just because I gave them one little talking-to.” Veronica looked Steph dead in the eyes. “So. I need you to tell me exactly what’s going on?”

Steph paled. That was the very last thing she could do. “N-no!” she said, desperate, shaking her head furiously. “No way!”

Veronica folded her arms. “Well, I’m not going anywhere until you do.”

Now Steph really began to panic. She couldn’t tell. Not Veronica, not anyone. They’d never believe her - and even if they did, soon enough it wouldn’t matter.

But… if there was anyone she could ever tell, maybe it was Veronica. She wasn’t like most people. She was a pillar. Most people didn’t bother trying to help Steph. They just looked down on her pityingly, or hurried by like her victimhood was an embarrassment to them. Not Veronica. She clearly held herself to dizzyingly high standards, and even beyond that, she was a font of kindness.

Most people would have already started to succumb by now. Maybe she could take it. Maybe she could help.

It was a tempting thought. But Steph had long since learned to trample down on that kind of hope.

So, instead of baring her heart, she ran.

“S-sorry!” she cried as she leapt to her feet and started sprinting towards the classroom door.

As she ran, her cheeks burned with shame. She knew how Veronica would feel after this. Worried, anxious, perhaps even guilty. It was awful of Steph to abandon her savior like this. But it was for the best.

Unfortunately, she didn’t make it.

After just a few steps, Steph felt Veronica grab at her sleeve. Even though the older girl was just trying to take her hand, she ended up pulling Steph wildly off balance and she tumbled back into Veronica, sending them both into a heap on the ground.

“Damn it,” Veronica said. The frustration in her voice made Steph twitch nervously, even though it was directed at herself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… did I hurt you?”

She clambered off of Steph, then reached out to grab her by the wrist and help her to her feet. As soon as they touched, though, Steph recoiled from her like a terrified animal, scrambling to her feet using nearby desks and chairs for support.

Steph was tearing up. Veronica had been right on top of her. Touching her, body to body. It was the worst thing that could possibly have happened.

“Steph?” The trans girl was frantically scanning Veronica’s face, searching for the first symptoms, but there was nothing. Instead, Veronica was overflowing with concern. “You’re seriously worrying me. Is… is there something on your arm? Did they hurt you?”

“N-no!” Steph whimpered. She closed her eyes, silently praying for Veronica to just leave her alone.

“Then what?” Veronica demanded. “I know I said… but I can’t overlook this, Steph! You understand that, right? You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.”

As she spoke, she let go of gentleness and her voice became full and commanding. Steph felt herself go hot as her body responded to Veronica’s authority with pathetic eagerness. Her mind went blank, and an answer flashed across that blankness and out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“I’m c-cursed,” Steph confessed in a weak voice. “It makes - I make - people h-hurt me.”

“Steph…” As soon as she said her name like that, Steph knew she hadn’t gotten through to Veronica. “No. No! I’m so sorry someone made you feel that way, but no. You don’t.”

“I do!” Steph’s voice turned shrill. She needed to make Veronica understand. “I do. A-and you should just get away from me, or it’ll happen to you too.”

“It won’t,” Veronica insisted. Steph wanted to believe her so badly. Veronica glanced down at Steph’s sweater. “What you’re wearing… Steph, are you hiding bruises?”

“N-no,” Steph lied instinctively, but Veronica wasn’t convinced. She advanced on Steph.

“I don’t believe you,” she said. “Show me.”

“Wha-“

An icy chill raced down Steph’s spine. Was this normal for Veronica? Where was her gentle patience from moments ago? Why was she suddenly being so forceful?

Was it just because she was freaked out? Or was it something more?

Desperately, Steph started searching her eyes. Her face. Her body language. Searching for a sign, and hoping not to see it. But all the while, Veronica was advancing on her.

“Show me!” Veronica insisted.

Her hand darted out and started tugging at one of the loose, baggy sleeves of Steph’s sweater. Taken aback, Steph tried to fight back, but Veronica was stronger and swifter. Easily manhandling the taller girl, she rolled her sleeve up all the way to the shoulder and gasped at what she saw on the skin underneath.

A mosaic of bruises, all the way from her wrist to where they disappeared beneath her t-shirt. Some old, some new; all in different shades of deep, rich blue or purple. A few were fresh enough to stick in Steph’s mind: there was one from the lady who’d sat next to her on the bus that morning, a couple from the professor she’d stayed after class to speak with, and even now, a few that she’d received from Heather and her friends were starting to blossom.

Steph knew exactly what it looked like, and as Veronica silently inspected her bruised skin, she whimpered at the pity she could see in her eyes. But then she saw something else too. A slight, unnatural dilation of her pupils. A certain glazed dullness over the light of her kindness. The tiniest flaring of her nostrils, like she was catching Steph’s scent for the first time.

It was almost nothing, but it made Steph’s heart pound.

“How…” Veronica murmured, after a moment. “How could anyone do this to you?”

Without seeming to realize what she was doing, she started tracing her fingertips lightly over the bruises. It was like she was mesmerized by them. Frantic, Steph tried to reassure herself. This was a normal way to react. Veronica was just surprised, that was all. There was still hope.

If Steph couldn’t run, hope was all she had.

"How long has this been going on?” Veronica asked, her voice still soft.

“For years,” Steph confessed. It felt good to unburden herself, despite everything. “N-not just them, I mean. In high school. There were others.”

Veronica nodded thoughtfully. Steph couldn’t read her expression. “You… haven’t tried to stop it? One way or another?”

“There’s nothing I can do,” Steph replied miserably. “At first I tried going to teachers. B-but soon enough they were, well…”

“Have you tried standing up for yourself?”

The question stung a little, mostly because Steph didn’t have a good answer. She’d just never had that kind of fight in her. Whenever she found herself in that kind of situation, she was always undermined by other desires, ones that were hard to articulate and even harder to defend.

“I-I… just…” Steph looked down. “I c-can’t…”

“Hm.” Veronica looked down too, and muttered under her breath: “Honestly, it’s like you’re not even trying.”

Steph’s blood ran cold. “W-what?”

“Oh, nothing.” Veronica looked up again, and she was smiling. The scorn Steph thought she’d heard in her voice had left just as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s just that this is so awful. Steph, I promise you, one way or another, I’ll put a stop to this.”

“T-thank you.” Steph blushed and nodded.

Please. Please. Please let it not affect her.

“I won’t let this be a school where students bully and injure one another in the corridors,” Veronica continued, her conviction growing. “No. That just won’t do. I have a responsibility. A moral responsibility.”

Steph nodded again, but cautiously. There was so much zeal in Veronica’s voice. And for some reason, she’d started squeezing Steph’s wrist a little tighter.

“I think it’s important to get to the root of the problem,” Veronica went on, muttering to herself. “You always need to deal with the ringleader. The instigator.”

“V-Veronica,” Steph whined. “That’s… it kinda h-hurts…”

She was talking about her arm. Veronica was squeezing tighter and tighter on her wrists, provoking complaints from Steph’s bruises. Veronica seemed to pause for a moment, suddenly lucid, and briefly Steph dared to hope that her good nature would triumph.

The moment passed.

“It’s you,” Veronica decided. “You’re to blame.”

Steph thought she was going to throw up, even as her cheeks started to burn treasonously. “W-w-what?”

“You heard me.” The kind Veronica was gone. She was a disciplinarian now, just like she had been with the bullies, but all of it was now directed at Steph. “You. You’re the one who needs to be punished.”

“B-b-but…”

The room around Steph was spinning. It had gone wrong so fast. Why was she surprised? It was always like this. She was cursed. It was her own fault, for letting Veronica get close to her. Why had she ever entertained those foolish hopes? Steph felt awful.

But that didn’t stop her from being incredibly turned on.

“You said so yourself,” Veronica told her sternly. “It’s your fault. You’re the common denominator, Steph. You’re…”

She paused for a moment and frowned. It was like she was struggling to rationalize what her new impulses were telling her. Struggling to square them with her long-held morals. Steph didn’t know what to make of that. She’d never seen anyone struggle like this.

“You’re encouraging them,” Veronica said slowly, pushing through the cognitive dissonance she should have felt. “You… you shouldn’t be so tempting. You’re disrupting this nice, harmonious school. Why do you have to make such a spectacle of yourself?”

"I’m… not…” Steph was blinking back tears. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before, but it always felt like a knife twisted in her gut. Somehow, coming from Veronica, it was even worse. “I-I mean, I wasn’t trying to…”

“It’s indecent,” Veronica said sternly. “No wonder those girls were…” She paused, correcting herself. “Well. No. No, they’re troublemakers too, of course. Bullies. I’ll deal with them. But you. You’re the root of it. Aren’t you?”

“N-n-no!” Steph cried. She was turning her head this way and that, but there was no avoiding Veronica’s gaze. “I mean… no, um, yes, but not, l-like that, I-“

“So you admit it?” Veronica interrupted. “Shameless. Utterly shameless.”

“I…”

Steph didn’t know how to articulate that she was very far from shameless. Shame was all she felt. It coursed through her like a current, making her hate herself, making her body burn with its passing.

"What am I going to do with you?” Veronica finally let go of Steph’s wrist and started pacing a short track back and forth across the floor - although she kept herself, Steph noticed, between her and the door. “I can’t let you go on like this. Corrupting people.”

“I-I’m sorry…” Steph wasn’t sure if Veronica actually understood what was happening to her. But it didn’t matter now. She was too far gone.

At least, Steph thought so. As she apologized, Veronica looked at her and seemed to soften. Maybe there was still something of the good, principled student president inside her. The kind of girl who would always accept an apology. But, all too soon, it faded.

“I have to keep you away from them,” Veronica decided. “I can’t trust you out there, with girls like Heather. The last thing they need is you, making them even worse. Maybe… no, no, even the professors and deans. You’d get to them too. I… it has to be me. I’m the only one who can be trusted to uphold this school’s morals.”

Steph’s stomach sank into an abyss. What did that mean?

“Yes. Yes.” Veronica was pacing faster. Finding her rhythm. “No more awful spectacles like that in the stairwells. I’ll… I’ll have the dean appoint me as your personal tutor. You can move to a different dorm room, too. The one next to mine.”

Suddenly, it dawned on Steph who she was dealing with. Veronica wasn’t some random bully. She was the head of student government. She had power - and unlike some of the professors who had tormented Steph, she didn’t need to be so worried about propriety.

If she got her way, there would be no escaping her.

“It’ll help you too, of course,” Veronica reasoned. Steph could sense her good nature bending and warping with each passing moment. “None of these other girls will be able to hurt you. I won’t let you get your filth all over them.”

Inwardly, Steph was begging herself to say something. Do something. This was all going so wrong. Worse and worse by the moment. She needed to put a stop to it. But as usual, she couldn’t think. Her body was on fire. Why was she like this? She couldn’t tell if this sick pleasure was part of the curse, or simply a sickness deep in her soul.

“Yes. Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” Veronica had clearly made up her mind. She stopped pacing, and grabbed at Steph’s arm again. Steph was too terrified even to flinch. “No need for any more of these awful bruises.”

At that moment, she seemed to pause. Her nostrils flared again, and the look in her eyes became even more glazed. Something was tugging at her. Upsetting the equilibrium she had only just found. Steph held her breath.

“But.” Veronica said it like it was a mere afterthought, but the pause that followed made it dreadful. It was like something was growing inside her. Her hand clamped back down on Steph’s wrist. “You need to be punished.”

“P-please…”

Both of them froze. It had come out of Steph’s mouth not just as a plea, but as a moan. It sounded like she had been begging - and suddenly, Steph couldn’t be sure that she hadn’t. A look of vicious scorn dawned on Veronica’s face.

"Take off your clothes,” she commanded coldly.

Steph trembled like a leaf. “N-no,” she whimpered, but already, she was obeying. Veronica’s instruction went straight through her. She felt helpless to refuse. So, she lifted her sweater off over her head. Then came her t-shirt, exposing yet more bruises. Then, her long skirt. She stopped there, hoping it would be enough. It was, but standing there in her bra and panties made her feel plenty exposed.

Especially since there was no longer any hope of hiding how aroused she was.

Veronica’s eyes quickly settled on the distinct tent in Steph’s panties. “You’re…” she breathed. “You’re enjoying this. Aren’t you? Are you some kind of pervert?”

Steph shook her head in mute denial, but the way her cock twitched at the disgust in Veronica’s voice made a liar of her. Veronica took a step towards her.

“You really do need to be punished,” she said coldly. “Bend over.”

Steph was deep under her spell now. She moved to obey - but not quickly enough. Veronica was soon on her, forcing her around and throwing her forward so that she slumped breathlessly over the nearest desk.

She had been so gentle, just minutes ago.

“It’s for your own good,” Veronica insisted. She rested a hand on Steph’s back, pushing down with her weight, keeping the sniffing, whimpering trans girl helpless. “It’s for your own good.”

Was there a twinge of regret and conflict in her voice? Was she trying to hold herself back? It was such a tantalizing possibility, but Steph just couldn’t be sure.

The possibility seemed far more remote as soon as she felt Veronica’s other hand come down hard on her bare, already-bruised ass.

Steph cried out and bucked like a wounded horse. Tears started to fall down her cheeks - tears of pain and humiliation both. The pain was so sharp. So intimate. It was more than even she was used to, and Veronica wasn’t going to give her time to brace herself for the next blow. It came quickly, and then the next, and then the next.

“You deserve this,” Veronica grunted. Her voice was labored from exertion. “You’re making me do this. Remember that.”

The words stung perhaps even worse than the spanks. It was true, after all, even if Veronica herself didn’t understand quite how true. The shame it brought Steph was all but nauseating, but even that was transformed into simmering pleasure inside her. Shame was one of her biggest turn-ons. Pain was too. Steph was helpless in the face of her own desires.

How good it all felt was another twist of the knife. The shame she felt at feeling like she had turned Veronica into an instrument of her own pleasure was overwhelming. And, of course, that felt good too. It compounded on itself, again and again, making a ruined, pathetic wretch out of her.

“You should be apologizing.” Veronica was putting all her strength into beating Steph, and it was making her voice harsh and guttural. “Don’t you have any shame?”

“I-I-I’m sssorryyy.” The words left Steph’s mouth as an incoherent, drooling moan. She barely knew what she was supposed to be apologizing for.

It was hard to think about anything at all when each spank made her shudder, and made her cock rub against the hard, cold desk beneath her through her panties.

Steph wasn’t a stranger to being hurt. Far from it. All too often, it was a daily fact of life. But there was something different about Veronica’s spanking. It wasn’t random, impulsive, self-satisfied violence. There was a ritual to it. Veronica was sticking to a firm rhythm, and her attention was given over completely to the task at hand. Something about her methodical, dedicated manner made butterflies flit and fly in Steph’s stomach.

This wasn’t violence. It was discipline.

Eventually, the blows stopped. Steph lingered for a moment in fearful anticipation, but when nothing more came, she finally relaxed. She wasn’t sure if it was that Veronica had meted out her full punishment, or if she’d simply tired of hitting her. Either way, it was a relief.

Punishment was an unbelievable catharsis.

A few seconds more passed, and Veronica let up on her back. Timidly, Steph straightened up and turned around. Her face was so red she could feel it burning, and her hair was a mess. Even though she was taller than Veronica, she couldn’t resist the urge to shrink into herself and hunch down until they were almost the same height. Everything was hot. Only Veronica’s gaze was frigid.

“Maybe…” the other girl began slowly. Her face registered a faint shock. Steph noticed the glazed look in her eyes beginning to fade. Was it over? “Maybe I went a little too… I’m s-”

She broke off and looked down. All too late, Steph realized what she was staring at. The front of her panties.

Steph was harder than ever, and her panties were stained with wetness that was beginning to dribble down and coat her inner thighs. Once she noticed too, she bent down and crossed her hands in front of herself, but there was no hiding it now. Veronica had already seen. She knew exactly what kind of a freak Steph was.

“You’re still…” Veronica’s voice sounded distant for a moment, but as she spoke, more feeling came back into it, and that feeling was hard and cruel. “How are you still…”

Her nostrils flared again. Her eyes faded almost completely. It was a ghoulish spectacle, like the girl in front of Steph had, just for a brief moment, been switched off and hollowed out. But what happened next was even worse. Something came to fill in the void, something new and awful, once it made its home inside her head, the light that appeared behind Veronica’s eyes was vicious and gleeful in a way that truly, deeply, didn’t suit her. It was like a devil was possessing her. The transformation was subtle, but unmistakable.

Especially to Steph, frozen solid in terror. She knew exactly what was coming next.

Sadism.

A weird, lopsided, unsteady grin washed over Veronica’s face. “God,” she spat. “You really are a freak.”

Steph trembled and whimpered. “P-please,” she said quietly. “Please s-stop. You don’t have to…”

She trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, and she was sure there was no use to it. She just felt, she supposed, an obligation to try and save Veronica. To salvage her, her kindness and her good nature, from what Steph’s awful curse had made out of her.

It was no use.

“Shut up,” Veronica growled, and punched Steph straight in the gut.

The sudden blow took her completely off guard, and Steph bent double as all the air was forced out of her lungs. She retched, although nothing came up, and slumped against the desk for stability. The pain was a black hole. It sucked in all of Steph’s being for many long moments until she was able to finally catch her breath.

Then, the sound of laughter.

She looked up. It was Veronica, of course. She was laughing at Steph. Laughing at her pain. Discipline wasn’t enough for Steph’s curse. Discipline had limits and bounds. At some point, discipline stopped. So, the curse it had pushed Veronica further. Beyond discipline, to simple violence.

“Maybe I was too hard on those girls,” Veronica mused. She was breathing hard again, but not just from exertion. From excitement. “You make this so hard to resist, Steph.”

Steph hated that she could do nothing but whimper and whine. Arousal and guilt were like two wolves, gnawing at the inside of her chest. Seeing Veronica like this was awful. Her face shone with glee at seeing Steph suffer, at making her hurt, and it was just so petty. So unworthy of her. A paragon of virtue, warped into a mere bully.

Why was it so hot?

“Oh, don’t worry about them,” Veronica added. “I won’t let them at you again. No, it’s like I said. You’re all mine now. All mine to take care of.”

Steph looked down. She couldn’t tell if she should be grateful, or horrified. She’d never had a bully quite like this. One who was so determined to keep her close at their side, and who had the power to actually make that happen.

Maybe there was no point trying to decide how to feel about it. After all, whatever happened, happened. It was out of her control now.

She was Veronica’s.

“Come on,” Veronica barked at her. She was already shaking slightly, like she was eager to throw another punch, but instead, she threw Steph’s discarded clothes at her. “We’re going to go and speak to the dean about our new arrangement.”

Meekly, Steph obeyed. She’d long since learned that there was no point in pretending she could fight back.

This - all of this - was simply in her nature.

—

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[wriothesleysgf]

𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐘. — erwin smith.

“everyone i’ve cared about has either died or left me. except you.”

about: erwin will always do his best to ease your worries.

notes: implied character death, established relationship, angst. | angst prompts [reqs : open!]

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 when you started dating erwin that his first priority would always be his allegiance to the people of the walls. he had always been chivalrous - hell, that was one of his many qualities that had you falling head over heels for the man.

the two of you had met as trainee scouts. he’d gone on to take command, whereas you turned down higher ranks as you enjoyed being in as many fights as you could — something about the rush that came from slaying titans made you feel more fulfilled, perhaps it was because you could see your direct impact on others in the countless lives that you’ve saved over your career.

erwin had supported you consistently, and you him. he was the only person that you felt always had your own happiness as a priority. the two of you even reminded each other that you were fighting for a better future, for each other and any future family, each time one of you departed on a mission. you had always managed to find your ways back to one another.

before the mission to reseal the walls, you found yourself with a terrible feeling that you couldn’t shake. something was definitely off, but you couldn’t tell what it was. part of you didn’t want to tell erwin, yet he had always been so incredibly wise that you knew you had to. so, with the excuse of bringing a hot mug of coffee to his office late one evening, three days before the scheduled attack, you confided in him.

“my love,” he spoke, his deep, calming voice already chipping away at the fears you felt. “perhaps looking over the plans will help,” he motioned to the maps on his desk.

erwin spent the next forty minutes going over tactics and actions. when he finished, he asked you for your opinions. as a result of your own military experience, you were able to offer a couple of notes here and there. the man took everything on board and made a couple of quick scribbles. sure, these plans have already been triple checked by various high ranking officers, yet everybody bears a different perspective and erwin truly did value yours.

“how are you feeling now?”

“a little better…” your voice was uncharacteristically small. it was a more vulnerable side that you only really showed around erwin. “i think i’m just scared.”

“darling, a little fear is what keeps us alive. if you weren’t scared, i’d be more concerned,” he smiles, a weak attempt at trying to lighten your mood, even marginally.

when you stay silent, erwin gets up to his feet. without saying a word, he leads you closer to the window. it’s already dark out, and you can see the constellations gleaming down from above. it reminds you of those sleepless nights during training and early scout days, either when sleep would evade one of you and you’d both spend some time watching the sky, or occasions where the two of you would be put on watch together whilst outside of the walls. erwin’s father had taught him about the stars, and he was ever so grateful for the way that your eyes shone brighter than any celestial body he’d ever seen when he relayed odd facts that he remembered.

“i’ve had something for a while,” erwin begins a little speech. it’s much different from those he delivered in front of his soldiers; it possessed copious feeling, and felt much less rehearsed. “i’ve never found the right time to ask you…”

and the rest was history. what was supposed to be an engagement ring became the ring you wore when the two of you wed. neither of you were into the idea of something big and fancy, so you posed the idea of simply eloping. all you needed were two witnesses and an officiant - surely there would be one somewhere. the next afternoon, whilst most of the military were training or sorting supplies, you both snuck off.

levi had always been a trusted confidant to erwin, so of course he was called upon to come with you. you weren’t sure if it was a blessing or not that hange just so happened to burst into the room when erwin was explaining your situation to him… thus how you received your second attendant. they’d always been close to you, as you’d often be intrigued in some of their less conventional experiments, so you were happy.

both you and erwin wrote a few vows for one another. his focused around how he would always protect you with every fibre of his being, no matter what.

“everything i do is for you. more than once i've daydreamed of a titan-less world where you and i are happy and safe enough to start a little family. maybe it’s cliche, but i’d be content living the most boring, normal life if i got to spend it by your side."

when it was your turn, you were already tearing up. the terrible feeling in your stomach was forgotten, instead replaced with the butterflies that had appeared the first time that erwin had kissed you.

“i just… i adore you, so much. i don’t know what i did in a past life to deserve you, but it makes everything i’ve endured worth it. you know, everyone i’ve cared about has either died or left me. except you.”

after the short ceremony, the two of you continued about your day. levi managed to cover when somebody asked for the commander’s whereabouts, offering you a nod. nobody dare questioned him, so they got on with their day.

it wasn’t until later that week that those words truly came back to you.

after what felt like days of fighting titans endlessly, you were running on fumes by the time that you regrouped with other scouts. your battalion had been forced to split up in the chaos, you didn’t know what happened to any of them. yet, all you desired now was to see erwin, your husband.

the dreaded feeling. there it was.

the very second that you saw levi in the distance, the horrible knot in your stomach returned. it was more intense than prior, forcing you to use the last of your energy to prevent your knees from buckling. the captain was very clearly trying to maintain his staple stoicism yet you could sense the guilt seeping through the facade. he didn’t say anything until he was stood in front of you. he gave a few orders to others around him, then turned to you. having known him for as long as you did, you could read him better than most. part of you knew the dreadful answer before you asked the question.

“levi… where’s erwin?”

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Hey Sex Witch!

I’ve had a bad relationship with advocating for my own needs (sexually and otherwise) on account of feeling “needy/parasitic”. When I hook up with someone, I default to this beggars-can’t-be-choosers attitude for the rest of the night, and afterwards feel this weird “I didn’t deserve that and am a bloodsucker for having accepted sex from this person who offered it” feeling.

Like, I’m always genuinely grateful for their having given me their evenings. And at least I’ve never felt “used” per se? But it sucks that I still also feel indebted, guilty and that I couldn’t place any limits or ask for more without being being shitty. (Or getting rejected.)

A lot of self-help claims that asking for what I need isn’t being parasitic and that it’s good for everyone to approach a relationship with a heathy sense of value. But it also feels risky to just assume that my desires are inherently valid and that it’s never wrong to ask for what I need - like I’m one step away from being yet another entitled asshole who demands everything and who gives nothing.

Do you have any advice re: how I can conceptualize being with someone while a. advocate my own needs in a way that’s still respectful of theirs and b. not feeling like I’ve done something wrong (because something-something ‘I’m a parasite’)?

Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear your input, if you have any advice to give!

hi anon,

oooooh boy okay! we've got a lot to work on here, and I'm so glad you're in this process of figuring out how to better advocate for yourself.

I'm just gonna start right out by saying that m a y b e removing sex from the equation is a good move for the time being, until you feel better able to navigate sex on your own terms without feeling like a beggar or a parasite after. engaging in sex when you know you're going to feel guilty about it afterward is setting yourself up for failure, and every time you put yourself through this you're creating more harm that you'll have to unpick later. I know, it sucks, but I've been in a similar space where I was saying yes to any sex to feel good about myself and spoiler alert, it never felt good until I stopped doing that!

so, here's a step that I feel like you may be missing that could be very helpful for you: the self-help is right that you need to approach interactions with other people - any interactions! not just sex! - with a sense of self-worth for your own safety and comfort. having a sense of self-worth is what lets us say no to things that will be bad for us, or things that are just unpleasant but avoidable, and to ask for better treatment. self-worth is what lets me say no when I'm invited to things that don't sound fun when I'm already tired, to negotiate for better options when I'm given tasks at work that I know will be a drain on my mental and emotional resources, and to ask people not to use nicknames for me that I don't like or feel comfortable with. self-worth lets you recognize that you deserve to be comfortable and treated the way you want.

the step I think you're glossing over is recognizing that there's, like, a very big different between asking for what you want and need and assuming everyone will drop everything to bend to your will. like, there's a pretty serious gradient there. let's revisit the example I gave, yeah? if one of my friends invites me to, let's say, a concert that's not my speed when I'd rather stay home, I'm allowed to say no. I'm even allowed to ask if they'd rather do something else, like come over and chill watching nature documentaries. I am perfectly within my rights to ask for that. I would become, to use your words, an entitled asshole, would be if I got angry and threw a tantrum if my friends decided they still wanted to go out without me. my boundary - staying in - is fine, and has been respected. I offered an alternative - hanging out at my place - and it was rejected, which also has to be fine. offering people a choice requires that there not be any negative consequences, regardless of what the pick, or else the choice was a false and coercive one. then you're an asshole. but saying no to an invitation and presenting an alternative plan is perfectly fine.

the other examples work similarly. I'm not being a parasite by asking to rearrange a workload so that it's more manageable, I'm preserving my ability to do my work. so I might, say, talk with my director to make sure there's a work schedule that I can handle, and ask if he can take on some parts that I know will be more difficult for me. (IRL info here: I do 99% of the work planning our big events, but I make him handle the budgets because he knows our university's financial system WAY better than I do.) I can also let the people I work with know when I'm having a difficult mental health day and ask that they accommodate that in whatever way I need, and set appropriate boundaries like not checking emails outside of work hours and leaving the office at a reasonable time. what I can't do is announce that I won't be doing any work at all because I don't feel like it; that's a dick move because it's letting down people who are depending on me and placing an inordinate amount of work onto them. also, it will probably get me fired, so that's also bad to my housemates who depend on me to be able to contribute financially!

do you see what I'm getting at here? saying no alone is a neutral act, a good thing even. people work better when they know each other's limits; I know I'm always grateful when my friends let me know when they're feeling overstimulated and unable to be social or when my boss lets me know he's having a difficult time with his master's program and needs me to shoulder some of his work or when my students are up front about being busy and needing extra support. there are all kinds of ways to express these needs without harming anyone else.

"but Makenzie" you're saying "what about hard boundaries with no room for negotiation?" yeah those are also fine, whether it's sex or something else. there are like two people in the world allowed to call me by any shortened version of my name and if anyone else tries it I'm going to tell them not to; that's just how it is. if they take issue with that I don't need to feel bad about it, because don't call me a name I don't want to be called is a perfectly reasonable request.

what about more complicated sexual situations? same deal, and it can save you a lot of hassle discuss your boundaries and Big No's right out of the gate. I don't like to be penetrated; at best it feels mildly uncomfortable and slightly off-putting. that's something I tell people when things move in a sex-like direction, because it's relevant information and if it's a dealbreaker I'd rather they know sooner rather than later and can bail before we're naked and it's weird.

neither of us would be in the wrong for calling off sex at the point, btw. if I don't want penetration to happen and they really do, then we just probably shouldn't have sex and it's a good thing that we figured that out!

anyway. to answer your last two questions, you practice this by employing it in everyday situations as far from sex as possible until you stop feeling guilty and beholden to people, and ONLY THEN do we even think about putting sex back on the table.

[meracydia-miqo]

FFXIVWrite 2024 - Day 16: Third-rate

spoilers for late dawntrail

———

Third-rate.

That’s all she was, and all she would ever be. A weapon, useful only for combat, and useless anywhere else. A sword cast aside at the end of the war, exhausted of its value. Was that why the Scions didn’t care where she went, after their disbandment? When she was no longer needed to point at whatever villain she was to strike down next? That was what happened, after all, when she was called back as soon as something did pop up.

She could still hear the voices of her captors, back before it all began. ’Worthless scum!’ ‘Unsightly bag of flesh,’ ‘piece of sahagin shite.’ ‘You should be grateful the Navigator ever found you worthy enough to not drown in that ocean.’

She could never stand up at the same level as others. She was always the ‘other,’ sent off to do whatever they bid of her. She never should’ve expected for anything good to come of anything, because as much as the world could claim to love her, what use is a sword with no blade?

And what use is a sword that can’t even hit its target? Swung blindly in the night, sharp, but slicing naught but air. A weapon like her could never have anything for itself. It was just a tool, existing to be used.

And yet still she yearned, and knew she could never have.

It was foolish to imagine that just because she had been given any sort of break, to think that it could last. Why had she ever thought that things could be different, when she returned back to the Source and boarded that ship to sail to the new world? She wondered, at times, if she should’ve taken Erenville up on his admonition and drop out of helping with the Rite before it ever began. To go back home to Eulmore where she could have value outside of her fighting prowess.

“Q’lhani.”

She felt useless inside the dome. Walking into Tuliyollal and seeing the remains of a battle she could do nothing to prevent; walking in to the wasteland of what should’ve been, what had been just a week earlier, Erenville’s home. And now her only purpose was to go and defeat Zoraal Ja and stop a war and save everyone else, when all she had wanted was to live a life for once.

“Q’lhani.”

But she couldn’t. She was never going to be worthy of anything like that. A slave to the end, following others whims.

“Lhani, you’re doing it again.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, forcing her back into reality. She was standing in the ruins of Tesh’pyani, Erenville’s—nay, what should have been Elene’shpya’s home in front of her, now appearing only old, dilapidated, dead.

Alisaie stood beside her, staring up at her with a mix of concern and impatience, and when Q’lhani looked up, blinking to refocus her eyes, she saw the others, that strange new person (sfee…Sphere? Sphene? She still didn’t like her. Why should she even care about her name?) included, already a while ahead of them, heading down the path outside of the village.

She let out a grunt and looked away, unwilling to speak up. It didn’t matter. Why would it matter?

But Alisaie didn’t let up, grabbing her shoulders and forcing her to look at her, glaring. Q’lhani missed sometimes when she was still almost a fulm shorter than her. There was only a few ilms between them now.

“You’re spiralling.”

Q’lhani didn’t have the bite in her to try and deny what she knew was true. Alisaie had picked up on as much over all the time they’d known each other, and even Dulia-Chai would tell her that’s what it was. It didn’t help her feel any better in the moment. Didn’t change everything that weighed down on her.

“Why should I even be here?” she grumbled. “I, me, personally. Do I even exist at this point?” She squirmed, trying to wriggle her way out of Alisaie’s grasp, but her hands only clenched tighter, holding her in place. The hair on her tail bristled, and she scowled.

“You do exist, and I know that you know that.” Alisaie insisted. “Just this once…forget about what everybody else thinks of you—who even cares about them anyway? They’re all stupid. And then, tell me: you wanted to come here, yes?”

I wanted to go to the actual Yyasulani. Not this…not this cheap replacement, Q’lhani thought, but didn’t speak up. It shouldn’t look like this. None of this should’ve happened. It’s all my fault, because I’m here, because nothing can ever go well when I’m here. She tried to force herself out of Alisaie’s grasp again, still refusing to say anything. She shouldn’t have wanted to come. She shouldn’t have cared. If she hadn’t cared, then none of this would’ve been an issue.

“Lhani. Please, listen to me.” Alisaie was starting to sound desperate though, and it stung to hear. It was just another way—

She stopped herself. She didn’t…she was only going to make Alisaie feel worse.

“…It shouldn’t be in this state.” Q’lhani spoke up at last, and at that Alisaie let up her grip, allowing Q’lhani to retreat.

“Agreed. So, let’s go on, and give Zoraal Ja a piece of our minds, yes?”

Q’lhani crossed her arms in front of her, not looking Alisaie’s direction. She flicked her tail once in frustration, before it calmed, stiffening. “I’ll kill him.”

“Beat him until he’s within an ilm of life, and then let’s save that honour for Lamaty’i,” Alisaie corrected. Q’lhani didn’t say anything, only closing her eyes as she ducked her head and then began to walk off. Deep down, she always knew Alisaie was right, and yet at times, it only made her feel worse.

I’m just a third-rate friend, too, making her deal with someone like me.

Alisaie’s voice sounded from behind her. “You deserve a break from always being the one to do it. You need it.”

She made no indication of having heard.

Just…leave me be. Don’t involve yourself with me.