#i just love that they all have someone that sees right through them and against who they have no possible defences 🫶

[twenty-qs]

You know, one of my favorite under-the-radar interactions in Arcane is actually between Jayce and Vi.

On paper they have…literally nothing in common. One’s the golden boy science nerd, plastered all over Piltover as the symbol of progress, who has actively made decisions on the Council that made life in Zaun worse. One’s a bruiser who cut her teeth on the streets of Zaun, and then prison, as Piltover did its very best to forget she ever existed. They’ve had maybe, like, one actual conversation, in which Vi called him ‘pretty boy’ and Jayce looked deeply uncomfortable. But against all odds—they get along like a house on fire. I think Jayce is the only one Vi would have accepted weapons made of Hextech from; and I think Vi (and Caitlyn, but Vi came first) was the only person other than himself that Jayce would have made Hextech weapons for. They’re so in sync that they literally coordinate battle moves on the fly without needing to exchange a word. It might strike you as weird, at first. It’s just so improbable.

But it makes sense. Because the way they make decisions is almost the same—emotion. Impulse. Punch first, think later. Do what you think is right, and don’t wait for the world to give you permission, because it never will. They trust their gut and make snap decisions. And because the world of Arcane is morally gray, they usually regret it.

Which makes me think that some of the strongest parallels in this new season might actually be between Vi and Jayce. Arcane is about change. The price of change; the promises and dangers of change; and how people change, too. Vi and Jayce have been relatively stable character-wise. They change their minds about things, circumstances around them change, but at least at the end of s2e3, they’re still very recognizably themselves. Still punch first, think later. But the people around them have been undergoing extreme transformations.

Powder is now Jinx. Vi spent the entire first season refusing to see this, then failing to understand this. At the start of season 2, she still can’t reconcile the two in her mind—she can only conceive of them as literally two different people. Powder is dead. (I killed her.) All that’s left is Jinx. (I created her.) But the truth is that Jinx is still her little sister, is still the girl who was once Powder. Powder didn’t die—she changed.

Meanwhile, Caitlyn in season 2 is having a cataclysmic change because of her trauma and grief. The Caitlyn Vi fell in love with was brave, precise, determined—and fundamentally kind. She traded her gun away for medicine to save Vi’s life. She didn’t even hesitate. But now, all of that laser focus is being bent on revenge. Caitlyn has become increasingly single-minded, narrow-viewed, her world reduced to the target in her sniper’s scope. If you’re an obstacle, she’ll simply shoot right through you. She promised Vi she wouldn’t change, and then she hit Vi and abandoned her the moment Vi got in the way. Season 1 Caitlyn would never do that.

Vi struggles with change. She never seems to quite—grasp it. Doesn’t understand how the Undercity has changed while she was locked up, stagnant, an insect trapped in amber. She loves people with a sort of nostalgic glow. What the show forces Vi to reckon with is how far she’s willing to love someone before they’ve changed too much. She thinks it’s over with Jinx. She says she doesn’t consider Jinx as her sister anymore. But they are, they’re still sisters, of course they are. Jinx knows this. Jinx loves her sister, even now. Which means there might still be something in her for Vi to love too. But with Caitlyn, is there anything left of the kind girl who gave Vi her freedom and treated her with compassion? Can Vi still love the dictator literally waging war against her people? Should she? (Could she even stop loving Caitlyn if she wanted to?)

Jayce’s arc is just beginning in season 2, so I’m not sure which direction he’s heading in. But the parallels are already showing up. Is Viktor still in there, or is he dead? (Did I kill him?) Is it just the Hexcore using his body now, a monster that must be stopped? (Did I create him?) Jayce, too, might soon be forced to decide if he can still love someone who’s changed past the point of recognition. Or whether he should.

All this is to say that I hope we get more Vi and Jayce interactions this season. And that it’s definitely not a coincidence that we got two divorces back to back.

[beloveds-embrace]

noona. noon. any angsty thoughts to share for the duke au? 👁️ (i’m craving angst sorry)

Original post

I DO!! Angst version of the au would be if you weren’t welcomed at all. Sure, no one is being flat out rude to you, no one is actively sabotaging you and John doesn’t hit or force you into anything.

But it’s lonely.

The maids barely touch you, as if disgusted they have to help and tend to the woman their Duke needed to and not wanted to marry, and the butlers are the same. Especially the head butler Garrick. You still don’t know his first name and he doesn’t seem inclined to tell you.

During the dinner… nights with John, you’ve started noticing that your food isn’t quite as well done as his? Less decorated, occasionally burnt or not cooked well, but you don’t want to cause any trouble so you remain silent and John never asks why you seem to eat so little.

You do also meet Duke Riley, the man that John is said to have an incredibly close friendship with, something born during his time servicing the kingdom. You’ve heard so much about him, from bad to good, and you wonder how he actually is.

In the end, you wish you hadn’t met him, too. The humiliation of being flat-out ignored in your own home while he speaks amicably with John…

So yes. Life as Duchess Price isn’t a happy one, but you are just glad you aren’t physically hurting.

But you do find solace in the only kindness your parents had bothered to show you before they gave you away; your personal knight, König. He is the only one to not treat you as such. He is the only one you can confide in, feel just a little bit of happiness and friendship with even if you haven’t even seen his face yet.

“I’m so tired,” you whisper to him one night, under the blanket of the night sky. You’d thrown a simple shawl over your shoulders, and hadn’t questioned it when he fell in steps behind you, always a protective shadow. Today had been hard. You had also decided to no longer dine with John, not too excited about the lackluster food and the stilted conversations. Cold maids, lonely night… you ached for something more.

You take in a shuddering breath, wrapping the shawl tighter around yourself. Konig stands right beside the bench you are sitting on, a familiar and comforting sight and presence. But tonight, it’s not enough. “I’m so tired, König.” You repeat, your voice cracking.

König simply stares at you for a while; you are used to it, used to everything about him. The mask, the accent, the unyielding body that is always keeping you safe. The quiet congestions you have had, during the days you lock yourself away in your office to ignore the loneliness and sadness plaguing you.

You aren’t used to seeing König bend down in front of you, holding his hands out until you place them in his. Familiar pale eyes peer up at you. Proper etiquette doesn’t matter to you in this moment; who will chastise you for the lack of it when this entire duchy holds only the most basic form of respect for you?

Even if they did, you would not let go of König, your confidant. Your knight.

“…What do you need, mylady?”

After a silent moment, you take in a deep breath and look back at him. “…I want… someone who loves me enough to be kind towards me. I want someone who loves me.”

König nods his head. With bated breath, you watch silently as he brings your hands forward, under his mask, to kiss each knuckle on your hands.

“I am your knight, mylady. I am your sword, and your shield. I, too, can be your lover if that is what you want, mylady. Whatever you desire, it is my duty to provide.” König breathes out against your skin, eyes not once flicking away, words not once breaking. He is fully devoted in his decision. “Will you allow me, mylady? The decision is your, always has been. I cannot take you away from this horrible place-“ not yet. “-but I can give you my love and devotion, just as I’ve always done. Will you allow me, mylady?”

And after everything you’ve been through, all the pain and loneliness and exclusion- you can’t say no.

“…Yes, König.”

(By the time John begins to realize that he may have misjudged you, once you find out the truth, it is already far too late for mending any bridges. There is no particular feeling when you look at him, or any of his men. You only ask that no one bothers your time alone with your shadow, your knight. It’s far too late for anything.)

[323cutie]

I’ve noticed that yunho has a habit of cradling someone’s head when he likes them/they’re affectionate to him?? Like sometimes when he’s hugging the members he’ll pat the back of their head in a loving way ugh it’s so cute.. he’s so cute.

But I’ve been having thoughts about this relating to the bedroom…. Like he’s being rough with you or whatever but his hand is there at the back of ur head just cradling you against him??? Ugh like I can see him being strict with you but his love will still bleed through with actions like that…. I’ve being thinking about him too much.. I love him

Also I love u and ur writing!!! I get so excited when you’ve posted heheh love u too <3 mwah

ahhhhh omg haiiii <3 thank u for Tuning into all of my crazy thoughts and insanity !!!!!!

Anyways this makes me actually sick and ill because like. yeah yunho can be a little rough in bed but above all else he is insanely kind and sweet and loving and I think little things like this really prove it

I'm talking nasty dirty bleary eyed messy hair drooling unable to walk the next day typa shit... and I think something like this would come out specifically when you're kind of at the end of a session. 3 orgasms deep and you're exhausted but still so needy... and he knows you and your body so well...

"one more for me, baby, hm? you can do that, right?" he's murmuring, shifting so his cock enters you again. you sigh out a moan and he mirrors it, leaning even closer to you to press his forehead against yours.

"fuck -- i don't know, yunho," you whine, but you're canting your hips towards his. "feels so good..."

yunho hums, fond, reaching an arm under your neck to cradle your head, pushing your face into his neck. you follow easily, so obedient, and his heart clenches at the same time his dick twitches inside of you. "i know, sweetheart," he sighs out, listening to the little noises you breathe into his skin. his other arm helps you lift your leg over his hip, then rests on the small of your back before he picks up the pace. "want you to feel good."

[queenk00k]

cupid's lead arrows // rafe cameron

Requested by anon

Request: Hi girl I love your writing 🫶🏻 Can you write about Rafe, who has been Reader’s best friend forever, but secretly has a crush on her? One day, Reader confesses that she’s dating someone, and Rafe does everything he can to break them up.

Summary: You finally get a boyfriend but something, or someone, seems intent on keeping you apart.

Word count: 1.8k

Includes: This is literally all angst sorry

Note: My first Outer Banks fic in over 4 years lol please be kind! I got a little carried away...this lends itself to a part 2, if anyone likes it.

It’s not always a walk in the park when you’re Rafe Cameron’s best friend.

You’ve been inseparable since the first day of high school when you got paired together for a semester long project. Study sessions in the library (well, you would study, and Rafe would flirt with the cute library monitor) turned into after school hangouts at Tannyhill, which turned into hosting parties and heading to college together.

Did you ever have a crush on your best friend? Well fuck, have you seen him?

Not only is he gorgeous but you got to experience a whole different side of Rafe that not everyone got to see, the sweet side – loyal, caring, and pretty soft behind the scenes.

You spent years pining after Rafe, silently and stoically of course, never wanting to ruin your friendship by letting him know how you felt. You figured it was for the best and besides, you had lived through enough of Rafe’s girlfriends to know you weren’t ever going to be his type.

You’ve seen each other’s highest highs and lowest lows which, unfortunately for you both, Rafe seemed to have more than his fair share of. Much to the disappointment of your parents and the shock of your friends, you stuck by Rafe’s side through his drug addiction and his drinking problems and were there to pick up the pieces after his father died. Rafe, in turn, had your back when you had blow up fights with your mother and comforted you when you had problems with your friends.

Now, two years out of college and with Rafe mostly sober, you didn’t think there was anything you two couldn’t handle, nothing you couldn’t face together, nothing that could ever come between you.

Until you started dating Parker.

Rafe seemed happy for you when you first told him, hugging you and telling you he was proud of you for “finally getting some.” He was nice to Parker (by Rafe’s standards, which really meant not going out of his way to intimidate the guy) when you brought him to the beach and introduced them.

But as the weeks went by, you noticed a subtle shift in Rafe’s behaviour. You kept telling yourself you were being paranoid, that there’s no way Rafe could have an issue with Parker. He told you he was happy for you, right? And unlike the last potential boyfriends, Rafe didn’t try to scare him off.

But something was off.

You noticed Rafe was falling back into old habits that scared you. He was drinking more, often double parked at parties, and either loud and belligerent or sulking on his own in a corner.

And then then the incidents began. At first you just thought it was shit luck, but then it just started to feel like the universe was conspiring against you and Parker.

Turns out Rafe was conspiring against you and Parker.

It started when Parker seemingly ghosted you on one of your Friday night dates, leaving you alone and upset at the wharf before Rafe picked you up. Parker swore he had car issues, both his front tires punctured, and you figured that was a reasonable excuse.

Then the night of the annual bonfire, a harmless game of ‘never have I ever’ turned sour when Rafe and Topper kept coming up with the most oddly specific scenarios. Each of them left Parker putting down his fingers, looking sheepishly over at you as your cheeks turned red from embarrassment before you got up and left the circle, Rafe raising a beer bottle to his lips as he watched you intently. He followed after you that night and you melted into his arms, naïvely assuming your best friend was comforting you without an ulterior motive.

And now the worst of all – Topper had cornered you as you were leaving the driving range to ask if you knew Parker was spending time with his ex, and you finally snapped.

“Where did you hear this, Topper? Who told you?”

And because Topper was, above all, really just spineless, you got the answer out of him straight away.

Rafe. At the scene of the crime, three times in a row. What a fucking coincidence.

So, you decided you’d had enough of this bullshit, of Rafe playing games with your relationship, and you drove over to his house, marched up to his front door and banged on it with your fist until he finally opened up.

“Y/N!” he said, looking genuinely excited to see you. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, willing yourself not to lose your shit just yet, not to get angry until you actually knew the truth.

“Do you like Parker? Do you want me to be with him?”

Rafe blinked at you, his blue eyes narrowing in confusion.

“What? I don’t-”

“Tell me the truth,” you cut in. “I want to hear you say it.”

Rafe stepped over the threshold and gently closed the door behind him, clearing his throat before he answered.

“No. I don’t, and I want you to break up with him,” he said, folding his arms.

You huffed out a humourless laugh.

“Right, well, that’s not going to happen. Thanks a lot,” you say, willing yourself not to cry as you turn around and walk away from your best friend.

“Y/N, please come back. I have my reasons!” Rafe raises his voice as he calls out to you.

“Why do you care so much? Is this some fake chivalrous ‘if I can’t have you, no one can’ bullshit? Just leave me alone, Rafe.” You say as you clamber down the front steps and start walking to your car.

“Because I love you, alright?!” Rafe shouts after you.

You stop, the righteous anger you were feeling only moments before threatening to dissipate into the humid night air. You close your eyes, inhaling deeply before turning around to face your best friend.

Rafe’s breathing heavily, running his hand over his head as if to erase what he just said.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his ring glinting in the moonlight as he chews on his thumb, looking pleadingly at you, willing you to say something, anything. The silence between you feels heavy as your mind races. He’s said it before of course, but it’s usually in jest, or after you help him with something. This feels different, and you know better than to assume it’s not.

“Rafe,” you say, fighting to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing?” You watch him warily as he takes a hesitant step towards you.

“I love you. I’m serious. More than best friends, more than anything we’ve been in the past. I love you and I…I can’t stand to see you with someone else. I can’t let it happen.”

“You have no right-”

“He’s not a good guy, y/n!” Rafe raises his voice again, making you flinch slightly. You scoff at his words, throwing him an incredulous glare.

“Like you can talk, Rafe. I know you – more than anyone else. You’re not exactly in a position to be telling me who’s good for me or not,” you snap.

Rafe huffs, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Yeah, you got me. I’m not perfect, fine, but I know you and I know you shouldn’t be with Parker. That’s why I-” Rafe stops abruptly, his mouth twisting.

You step closer to him, closing the gap between you. “That’s why you what, Rafe?” Your heart pounds and you’re sure you’re about to have your suspicions confirmed. When Rafe stands there, dumbstruck and silent, you answer for him.

“You’re the one who started that rumour about Parker and his ex, aren’t you?”

Rafe’s silence tells you everything you need to know. You shake your head, not quite believing that your best friend would try and sabotage your relationship like this.

“And the bonfire? That was on purpose, wasn’t it? You got some dirt on Parker and wanted me to know about it.”

Rafe winced. “Well, Topper helped with that one. But seriously, this is all for your own good. I’m trying to protect you!”

You hold your hand up. “Stop. Just stop. How could you do this? Why would you try and break us up like this, just because you’re jealous? Why can’t you just let me be happy? Not to mention, you’ve been hurting me, Rafe! You’re not just hurting Parker; you’re destroying me in the process.”

You’re crying now, feeling betrayed. You had barely noticed but it had started to rain, the droplets mixing with your tears to run mascara down your cheeks. Rafe has the audacity to look concerned and regretful, to move as if to hug you and you shake his arm off before jabbing your index finger into his chest.

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me, Rafe. You had your chance! For years! Just because you’ve finally fucking woken up doesn’t mean you get to ruin my happiness. And now this bullshit about Parker’s family? That’s low, even for you,” you spit, the brief warmth you felt when Rafe told you he loved you now completely cold.

Rafe shook his head. “No, no, you don’t get it! That’s all true! They’re shady fucking people and God, that’s coming from a Cameron. You can’t get caught up in their mess,” he pleads.

“You must be out of your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to believe you now! Why should I?” you yell before spinning on your heel and stalking down the driveway to your car, being careful to not slip on the pavement.

“Y/N, wait!” Rafe calls and he catches up to you in two long strides, grabbing your wrist with his large hand. His white button-down shirt was almost transparent now and the rain was running in rivers off his nose as he looked down at you.

“Please,” he begs. “Come inside. Let me explain. I love you, y/n, please,” Rafe looks desperate, and you almost pity him before you snap back to reality and remember why you’re so angry.

“I’m going to my boyfriend’s house,” you snarl, tugging your wrist out of his grip. “And if you follow me Rafe, I swear to God, I will never speak to you again.”

With that, you yank open your car door and put the keys in the ignition with shaking hands.

“FUCK!”

As you pull away, you can hear Rafe yelling your name.

You don’t even look in the rearview mirror as you turn out of his street, tires squealing.

[revelboo]

thank you again for all these wonderful stories 🙏 I was wondering if you'd ever consider writing something for Rumble? I have a big soft spot for the guy and I feel like he'd love finally being bigger than someone

Sure

Alcohol Eyes

IDW Rumble x Reader

• Frag, where’s Frenzy? And why had he let his twin talk him into this stupidity? A soft body brushes against him swaying with the thump of the heavy bass pulsing through the club, the flashing neon lights dazzling his optics. Around him costumed humans laugh and dance, bodies brushing against him, because to them he’s just another organic in a costume. He belongs and it’s such an odd feeling. Especially when little fingers catch his servos and turning he finds a human grinning up at him, a pair of crooked costume wings drooping on your back, one wing partially crushed.

• “Wow, you’re tall,” you laugh, clinging to the stranger’s hand. Somewhere behind you, there’s the sound of your ex calling your name and you tug at your new, big friend slipping between him and the guy hunting for you. As buzzy as you are, your ex is wasted and you have no intention of letting him get his rough hands on you ever again. You have enough scars for a lifetime. No, you’d rather take your chances with a complete stranger in a weirdly elaborate costume. “You went all out, huh?” Reaching up to slide your palm over what feels like metal panels. Wasn’t all that heavy and hot? The guy must be sweating in all that.

• Freezing, his lips part as the little human runs soft hands over him, head craning to smile up at him. And it’s so strange to have to look down at someone. Your expression becomes pinched as someone yells, then you’re reaching up and those unbelievably soft hands are cupping his helm to tug his head down. And a warm mouth suddenly presses against his, electric through him.

• That jerk is right there, bound to see you any moment so you pull the guy down to you and kiss him, praying your ex passes by. That this guy plays along. Not expecting for him to curl an arm around you to cup the back of your head or for the other big hand to grip your butt and drag you flush up against him. And those hands are warm as his mouth moves against yours, taking over the kiss and making it something demanding and hungry and deliciously unexpected.

• Primus, help him as you mold yourself to him, little hands clinging as your mouth opens to let him in, let him taste as his glossa explores, sliding against your tongue. His servos tangle in your hair, his other hand tightening on you to keep you from trying to escape, because whatever this is, he wants it to last. Growling when you break free, eyes hooded. “Slow down, sport,” your voice is lower, huskier as you nip at his bottom lip with a laugh, that sound going straight through him in a flush of need.

• “Don’t go,” he growls, big hands flexing against you as his already rough voice deepens. It’s not a request so much as a heated demand. And oh, it’s tempting. No one’s ever kissed you like that before, hungry and almost desperate. Reaching up, you curl your arms around his neck and his own arms tighten possessively around you. You’d come to the club alone, but if you have your way, your unwitting hero is coming home with you for a real thank you.

Next

[fancyfeathers]

Love the mother daughter pair, but not gonna lie, fascinated by the thought of bruce blackmailing reader, and then having to properly try and woo her back essentially. If he really wants a seemingly loving family, he has to know he needs to coax his wife and the mother of his daughter into a better mood and viewpoint. No matter how much blackmail he has, she can start gaining just as much now that she's in his life, and I doubt the daughter will start trusting him properly with the tension between him and her mother. How would bruce coax the mother back? And would Talia actually have an easier time establishing a connection? Could see Bruce feeling jealous of Talia if that was the case. Idk just the tangent my mind ran on, even if that's not the case still love the work

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

The blackmail is practically all there is he does that truly hurts him, and that’s only if she does not agree to his proposal when states his intent of gaining custody of their daughter. But after that comes to pass everything would be perfect for a normal couple, news about their engagement spreads like fire, and the wedding will probably be the social event of the century given how they were engaged once before and now it’s back on. The most perfect white wedding and Bruce treating his darling like the perfect husband.

Their daughter does not know the details of what happened, one moment it’s her and her mama having a perfect life together, traveling the world and being each other’s best friend, and then the next all of that is over, her father is back in her mother’s life and now she has siblings and none of them feel like the family she had with her mama, it feels suffocating and her mama doesn’t seem as bright as she once did.She clings to her mama every single day and is only separated when her attention is dragged away forcefully from her daughter and one of her brothers of father comes right to the littlest one’s side.

His wife does not push any of them away, she lets her husband hold her in the morning hours when they have just woken up and press kisses onto her face, she lets Dick call her mom as he runs up to hug her, she lets Jason help her daughter with her homework even though she asked her for help, she lets Tim take her daughter out to the park even if it’s their mother-daughter day they have, or used to have, every week, she lets Damian sit down by her and lay against her while she reads to her daughter. She will never be happy but she will fake it, she does not want to make a scene and have her daughter see and realize something is wrong and do something herself. She wants her daughter to be happy and have a future, go to university, leave Gotham and go back to what is left of the life they had, parents make sacrifices for their children and she is willing to do everything for her. She plays the game of pretend, acts like the perfect wife and mother and stepmother, stays calm and bites back all the internal rage she has building up inside her.

Honestly it is after every she has been through just for her daughter’s sake is when Talia starts to think a bit more highly of her, she understands the strength it takes to make sacrifices for one’s child. She also knows how possessive and protective they all are of her and her daughter, so meeting her discreetly is the best option. Like at a charity gala and someone accidentally spills something on her dress and has to go to the bathroom to clean up and-

“Hello again.”

She nearly screamed when she turned on the bathroom light and saw Talia’s reflection in the mirror. Talia helps her clean up and change into a new dress all while talking to her about what she has found out. She went from viewing her as Bruce’s house pet, because it was clear their marriage was not equal, to seeing a mother who is willing to sacrifice and do whatever it takes to take care of her daughter.

But it is during this the question arises and the answer is terrifying…

“What are you going to do if your daughter is just as trapped as you are? What if all you did for her was in vein?”

“I-I….”

“You are far too soft, you will never get what you desire for your daughter while you stay docile, playing the role of a perfect housewife, a house pet…”

“Talia…”

“I should be off now, but do take care of my Damian, he adores you as his stepmother.”

She leaves her alone in the bathroom and she just cries, feeling like a failure of a mother and she she can barely look her daughter in the eye again.

She just lays awake at night with the thoughts of the life she grew up with, she had a golden childhood and all she wanted was that happiness for her own daughter.

After that there is no chance of anyone winning her over, but she will not act out either, she just feels dead inside, like a complete failure of a mother. Her daughter clearly notices something is wrong and while her mother will stay perfectly compliant, her daughter is a completely different story.

The moment she sees her mom loose that shine in her eyes like she had when raising her on her own she knows this is all of their faults, they took her and her mom away from their life they loved and now there is nothing left of the mother who used to teach her to dance at parties, or attend her piano recitals and sat in the front row to applaud the loudest and despite the busy schedule of meetings she had she never missed one, or when her mom who could not help but boast about her daughter’s latest achievements…

Remember she is still her father’s daughter and has a level of determination that should not be tired under pressure.

[estaticheart]

ᥫ᭡. WAIT FOR YOUR LOVE

Summary: You find out about Sarah's pregnancy and so does someone else.

Warnings: literally nothing

A/n: thank you for anon for this idea!

JJ Maybank was a liability to most on this island, kook or pogue. If JJ found out about something at 10am, you best believe the whole island would know by noon. It wasn’t necessarily his fault, he had a big mouth that just happened to slip out information even if he didn’t mean to. Which is exactly how you found out about Sarah’s pregnancy.

Just as you were minding your business, sunbathing on the yacht, and waiting for Rafe to come back with some drinks on the hottest day of the year, you spotted JJ and Pope walking along the dock. Nosy as ever, you effortlessly shifted back from their view, curious to hear their conversation. Chances were it would be about Kie or their new treasure- but gossip was gossip.

“I just still can’t believe it, man. A kid? What the hell are we going to do?” Your jaw dropped at JJ’s words. A kid? JJ and Kie having a kid, was not something you expected to happen. You knew they definitely had something between them, but having a child was a big step to take. You grabbed your phone eager to tell Rafe, of course with strict instructions to slow his return to the yacht.

But as you began to type out a message Pope’s voice began, “We? It’s not our kid JJ, and as far as I’m concerned Sarah and John B are gonna be the best parents we know.”

Sarah and John B.

Your heart thudded in your chest, dropping your phone onto the couch cushions you resided on. You had only seen Sarah a few days ago as you defended her honour against Ruthie and her minions. She hadn’t looked pregnant at all but when you thought back you remembered seeing John B’s hands on her stomach, caressing. Oh my god, she is pregnant.

Your sister-in-law was pregnant, with a pogues baby, fuck me was Rafe about to lose his shit. But you? You were proud, it takes a lot of courage to decide to keep the baby and you knew Pope was right- they’d be the best parents ever.

Minutes later, Pope and JJ disappeared from the harbour and Rafe returned, arms full of all the drinks you like. “Hey baby, I didn’t know what you wanted so I got everything.” He laughed, attempting to place them all down on the table without dropping any. Your mind was far too busy to reply, so you stifled out a laugh. But of course, your boyfriend didn’t miss a thing. Frowning, he looked at you curled into a ball on the seats of the top deck.

“You okay?” He asked, concern coating his face as he took up his seat next to you. His arm around your shoulders settled some of the worry in your brain- but not all. “Yeah, I’m okay. Think the sun is just getting to me that’s all.” You attempted to joke, strategically pushing your body into your boyfriend’s embrace to avoid any more questioning. Convinced you were fine, Rafe stood up, “I’ll go get you some sunscreen. You need to stay protected.”

Protected. Your mind was catapulted back to Sarah. So as Rafe walked down to the deck below, you pulled out your phone again.

1:42pm

Just found some old pics of us as kids, you should come over and see them. We need to catch up Mrs Routledge!!

——————

"Oh my God." Sarah giggles, pointing at a picture of you and her in a swimming pool, with ice cream coating your wide grins. You quickly rifled through your collection of photos, acting as if you had miraculously found them as an excuse to have Sarah over. "We were so cute!" You giggled, as you flipped the photobook over to the next page to see a picture of you and Sarah holding a newborn Wheezie.

Your breath stalled for a moment, before you began to breathe normally again, hoping Sarah wouldn't notice. "Wow." She breathed out, tracing over Wheezie's face as her eyes glazed over with admiration. You weren't going to push Sarah to tell you but you wanted her to know that if she needed a handout, you were there. Deciding to push the limits, "I hope I have a baby as pretty as her." You said softly, smiling at Sarah as your eyes met hers.

She knew instantly that you knew. Your eyes were soft and wide, waiting for her to admit what you already knew. "You know, don't you." She whispered, her hands still hovering over the picture. You nodded, reaching over to take her shaking hands in yours.

For a moment you sat in silence, it wasn't awkward but peaceful. "I love you, Sarah. Whatever you, John B and the baby need I'm here." She nodded, eyes beginning to tear up. When you first started dating Rafe she was scared she would lose you to him, but you had been an anchor in her life, a big sister she never had. She knew she had the pogues support, but to have you behind her meant so much more.

"I'm scared." She feebly admitted, dragging her eyes down to your connected hands before continuing on. "What if they hate me or I'm a bad mom?" You shook your head adamantly, if there was one thing you knew for a fact it was that Sarah would be a good mother. "You could never be a bad mom. Remember when you were 7, I was older but had fallen and grazed my knee? I was a crybaby but even at 7 you knew how to clean it and put a bandage on. Those instincts don't leave you." By the end, your eyes were full of tears too. "Will you help me?" She muttered.

You nodded enthusiastically, "Of course. Sarah whatever you need I'll be here. You are my best friend before I'm Rafe's girlfriend. If you want me to go shopping with you I will. Or go to your appointments, I will. And if you want to keep this a secret, we can."

"Keep what a secret?" Rafe suddenly spoke, he wasn't in the room but you could hear him walking over to the lounge. Sarah's eyes enlarged in fear, you had promised her Rafe was out the whole day. Unbeknownst to you, he had finished his work in a hurry, eager to get back to you. You lunged over to the coffee table slamming the photobook shut, Rafe wasn't an idiot and you didn't want him putting him two and two together before Sarah was ready.

By the time he reached the lounge, you and Sarah had quickly wiped your eyes but it would be obvious to anyone what had happened. His eyes widened as he saw Sarah next to you on the couch. He obviously knew you two had a special connection and often went out whether it was for coffee or to the beach. But it had been ages since he had seen you two together in his house. "What's going on?" He asked, still unmoving from his position.

You glanced over at Sarah, who was staring at her brother. Normally, her eyes were full of hate and anger at Rafe but you noticed a new look in her eye. Full of emotion and sadness. You began to ramble a reason for Sarah's visit and also your 'secret', "Just some gossip with Pope and Cleo. You know they always made sense to me, Pope was always really quiet he needed someone more outspoken, you know? I think they really match, but there is just some stuff going on- but obviously, it's our secret can't just be telling anyone. Bu-"

Amid your rambling, Sarah spoke, "I'm pregnant Rafe." The air in the room warmed instantly to you, your shirt clinging to you as you waited anxiously for Rafe's next words. You hoped your boyfriend would sense that Sarah needed all the support she could get regardless of who it came from. You hoped for once he could see past his misguided anger at his little sister.

"What?" He finally muttered out, although it wasn't the response you hoped for it was better than the string of curse words you were expecting. Sarah waited for a brief second before nodding, moving her hands to let Rafe see her small- but visible- bump. Eyes full of emotion, he followed her motion. His baby sister. Pregnant. And despite them having mountains of unresolved trauma to work through, he felt an instinct to protect her baby, and weirdly of all, Sarah too. He finally moved from his frozen stance walking over to you both on the couch.

"Can I?" He asked gesturing at her stomach. Seemingly hesitant, Sarah waited a moment before nodding slowly her eyes never leaving Rafe's hands as he tentatively placed them on her bump. You watched on, trying not to cry at the sight of the two people you loved the most connecting once more. They had problems to solve and conversations to have but at this moment, it was like everything had fallen back into place. "It's only small," Sarah whispered, desperate to not disturb the peace. She had never seen her brother so quiet and attentive.

"I can't believe it. I'm lost for words." Their eyes met, both of the Cameron siblings thinking the same thing, everything would work itself out. But in the back of Rafe's mind lingered one thing, his own want and longing for a baby of his own.

[aspoonofsugar]

"I'm done blaming myself for your mistakes"

This line by Vi pretty much sums up her conflict in Act 1 of season 2, but I have yet to see it discussed. The point is, in fact, that Vi does blame herself, which is why she is unable to properly call Cait out. If Jinx specifically were not the one responsible for Cassandra's death, I doubt Vi would have stayed silent in front of Cait calling Zaunites animals or that she would have accepted many of Cait's actions without saying a word.

Vi still feels at fault for Powder becoming Jinx, which makes her vulnerable and willing to compromise on her morals, so that Caitlyn would not leave her. Ironically, I think this behavior is among the reasons why their love story does not work out in the first Act. They fail to communicate properly.

On the one hand Cait treats Vi badly. She insults Vi's people and insists that Vi should become an enforcer, despite her knowing of Vi's painful past. Obviously this is wrong, but personally I think it stems from Caitlyn's poor attempt to reconcile her love for Vi with her hate for Jinx:

"Three faces keep spinning through my mind. I see mother when they found her. And every fiber of me just sinks like in dark water. But then there is Jinx. Laughing. I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever. Then I see Vi. I asked her to put on the uniform. Suffice to say, she declined."

Cait's solution is to have be become a part of her society, so that she can keep on hating Jinx and the "bad" Zaunites, while loving Vi and the "good" Zaunites. Except it obviously does not work.

On the other hand Vi is unable to call Cait out. And the whole point is that Cait needed someone to call her out. She is grieving, but she is obviously becoming like the enforcers she once despised. Like the enforcers Vi despised. She negates Cassandra's legacy, by using her ventilation system to poison the air. She acts cruelly against a man, who is unharmed and who has clearly been hurt by that same gas she weaponized. She is ready to shoot a child (even if she does not intend to kill her), so that she can get at Jinx. Vi clearly sees all of this, which is why she asks Cait not to change:

Vi: Everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change.

However, she fails to confront Cait about it all. Except that when you are in a relationship, you must feel secure and free to call the other person out. Even to get into a fight with the other person. Still, Vi is so terrified of losing Cait too, that she is indecisive. And in the end she is tragically left behind by Cait.

This happens because Vi herself has not yet decided who she wants to be. Is she a Zaunite or an Enforcer? Does she want to kill Jinx or not? Vi can't choose. Jinx even calls her out on this:

Jinx: Plastering my face all over, so someone else would do your dirty work?

She tells Cait she wants Jinx dead, but the moment she can kill Jinx she doesn't. Sure, Isha comes between them, but after Cait disarms Isha, Vi could pretty easily take Isha away from Jinx and let Cait kill her sister. However, she does not. That is clearly because she sees Powder in Isha. Jinx and Isha embraced are clearly representative of who Jinx is as a whole. She is an unstable terrorist, but she is also a hurt child. That is who Jinx is and that is what Vi (and Jinx herself) needs to see and to reconcile. Even now, Vi insists that Powder is dead and that only Jinx remains. However, Jinx is Powder no matter how much Silco, Jinx herself and Vi insist she isn't. She still clearly is.

It is just that Powder has changed, but this is normal. Just like it is normal Vi herself has changed and will need to change again, so that she can decide who she really wants to be. Just like Jinx and just like Cait will have to do.

As a side note, I am loving the foiling between Cait and Jinx. They have always been foils, but while last season focused on how this juxtaposition impacts Jinx, right now we are seeing how it impacts Cait.

In season 1, Jinx sees Cait as Vi replacing her. In a sense, Jinx's jealousy of Vi stems from that same inability to accept change. Jinx too deep down hopes she can go back to being the innocent Powder and that Vi can love her, like she did in the past. However, that is not possible because people change and forge new relationships. Jinx forges a bond with Silco she can't simply erase because Vi wants to. Just like she can't erase the one with Vi simply because Silco wants to. Similarly, Vi has a new bond with Cait that she can't break simply because Jinx asks her to. So, Caitlyn is really who Jinx wants to be. Someone complementary to Vi in battle, but also reliable, dependent, lovable. By the end of season 1, Jin realizes she can't really be that person anymore and interiorizes there is a part of her Vi can't understand. That same part Silco instead accepts.

Silco: Don't cry. You are perfect.

In season 2, Jinx becomes Cait's dark side. She is really Cait's Joker, as she is the one who challenges Cait's sense of justice and morals:

Cait: It's her blood in your veins. Vi: Then why are you the one acting like her?

Cait is letting grief and pain change her for the worse, just like Powder was transformed by her own losses and traumas. Cait keeps insisting she is different from Jinx, but she isn't. In fact, her whole fiasco kinds of hint at it symbolically. Cait poisons the underground city in her attempt to catch Jinx. Only for Jinx rewinding the ventilation system, so that the poison Cait used is sent back to Piltover. Jinx literally acts like Cait's mirror, which is why Cait's shot ends up hitting exactly this, a mirror. As in, Cait can't really kill Jinx without hurting both herself, Vi and the whole city :P

I am curious to see how their foiling will develop, now that both girls are growing into the leaders of their opposite factions.

[eternal-evergreens]

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Into the looking glass - III"｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Post format: Multipart series

Pairing: Yandere!Male!DoL x Fem!Isekai!Reader

Word count: 5.1k

Synopsis: You gain the chance to wake up in the world of one of your favorite games. Unfortunately, the 'favorite game' happens to be one about rape, violence, and stalking. Not only that, but the game seems to be rigged against you. All you want is to find a way home and put this all behind you, but is that even possible...?

Warnings: Sexual Assault, Attempted Non/Con, Drugging, Attempted Kidnapping, Stalking

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible

No, no. Not happening. Never.

You need money. But you won’t get it through unscrupulous means. You still have your morals, and you’ll abide by them. That’s why you saved Kylar. That’s why you’d save him again, should it happen in the future.

You push the thought out of your mind and exit the temple. As you pass by Danube Street, a thought hits you. 

The spa. Why haven’t you been working at the spa? 

It’s not really an early-game option due to the stat checks required, but those shouldn’t be a problem for you. With your hand skill at C by default and your beauty over the max, working as a masseur is as simple as walking up and asking for work. 

You head over and ask for work, and the lady at the front desk takes one look at your hands and gasps. Her bored demeanor quickly melts away into an excited one as she quickly shows you the ropes. You get the basics down pretty quickly and soon take your first client, a trim woman who looks to be in her early 30s.

“Hello, I’ve not done this before. Do I just lie down?” That makes two of us, you think to yourself. 

“That’s right! Just lie down, and I’ll take care of the rest,” you say, smiling. The trim woman seems reassured and quickly lies down on the table. You get to work on her shoulders and neck first, cautiously looking for knots and tension as you knead her muscles. The woman relaxes under your touch and begins to make small talk. She tells you about her family, how her kids are both bright young boys, and her husband brings her flowers every month. She seems really happy. -Trauma -Stress

She leaves you a tip. You make £75. 

Your next client is less friendly, but you manage to massage her without incident. She leaves you a tip. You make £80 and decide to take a break, feeling a little worn out from standing on your feet for nearly two hours straight. After fifteen minutes, you get up and head back into the spa, where you take on another two clients. They both leave tips, and you make £120. The spa closes after that, and you head outside. 

Someone throws a water balloon at you from a nearby car, soaking your shirt and leaving it near-invisible. You hear cheers as they speed away, leaving you soaked out in the open. +Stress

You look around, but luckily, no one is around to see your predicament. You cover yourself with your arms as best as you can and head home. You take the alleys to avoid passersby seeing you, walking quickly in hopes of getting home sooner. You don’t watch where you’re going and end up walking right into someone. 

“Watch where you’re going, you—!” You look up, about to apologize, when you see icy blue eyes staring back at you. It’s Whitney, his face, only inches from yours, changes from anger to a smug smile.”Well, what do we have here? A slut all out on her own?” Whitney’s friends giggle. 

“Why is she walking around so exposed?” One delinquent asks. “Is she a pervert?” They giggle, crowding around you.

“I wanna get a picture!” Soon, all the delinquents are pulling out their phones. Suddenly torn between the desire to cover your face and your chest, you end up hiding behind the thing closest to you, which ends up being Whitney. He seems taken aback but soon wraps an arm around you protectively. +Love

“Fuck off,” he says, arm still around your waist. “Get your own slut.” The others seem disappointed but comply regardless. When everyone’s phone has been put away, Whitney releases you and shrugs off his jacket. 

“Can’t fuck a sick person,” he says, throwing his jacket over you. “Make sure to give it back. Now fuck off.” He shoves you out of the alleyway, leaving you stunned. Did that really just happen? 

You check your phone.

Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 5% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40%       Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100% 

You walk home with his jacket wrapped around your shoulders. It smells like smoke.

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £729 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are alert Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

After waking up and finishing your morning routine, you go to Robin’s room and play video games with him for an hour. Some of the games remind you of those you used to play back home. +Love -Trauma +Stress 

“It’s almost time for school,” he says. “Do you want to come with me?” You smile and nod. Robin stands up from the bed and puts his controller away. He holds the door open for you as you leave, and you notice a faint blush on his cheeks as you pass. You swear you saw him glance down. +Lust

You’re suddenly reminded that you’re in a yandere game and that Robin is a target character. ++Stress

You grimace as you round a corner and resist the urge to cover your butt as Robin walks behind you. Your skirt is so short he can probably see your underwear as you walk. +++Stress

You see Bailey holding a mousy girl by the arms, a bundle of rope in his other hand. 

“You owe me £200 this week,” he says. The girl is holding back tears but still manages to keep a strong look about her. Robin looks away. The other orphans do the same. They all look…resigned. You step forward. 

“I’ll pay,” you say. “Let her go.” Bailey raises an eyebrow but releases the girl. You hand over the £200 without fuss. It’s only after parting with the money that you remember you could have just pepper-sprayed him and gained some catharsis. You don’t really need to be stingy with it, after all. Bailey counts the money and leaves, leaving the mousy girl to dust herself off.

“Thank you,” the mousy girl says. “I was really scared.” 

“Will you be okay?” You ask her. She nods. She seems genuinely okay. 

“Yes, thanks to you. I promise I’ll pay you back for this,” she says, running off. 

“You don’t have to!” You call out after her, but she’s already gone. 

You did a good thing today. -Trauma -Stress

“That was really impressive,” Robin says. “It’s not often people stand up to Bailey.” You shrug, and Robin cracks a smile. +Love

You and Robin chat on the way to school, mostly about the games you played earlier. There’s a certain glint in his eyes when he looks at you that wasn’t there before. You have to suppress a shiver every time you accidentally meet his gaze. +Stress

“I just don’t understand why they’d make a tutorial so difficult,” Robin says, shaking his head. “Maybe-” He’s cut off by something, eyes widening. You follow his gaze and see two hooded figures approaching rapidly from the alleyway you just passed. You reach for your pepper spray as the figures get closer, unhooking it from its keychain and holding it at the ready. 

“It’s her,” one says. You waste no time and spray them both, then grab Robin’s arm and sprint to safety with him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Crime (Assault) +Stress +Fatigue

You don’t stop running until you reach the school gates and are safely behind them. You and Robin pant heavily as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline. 

“Where did you get that?!” Robin whisper-yells. 

“A kid in my English class makes them,” you say at a normal volume. Robin’s look of concern only grows, and he spends a few minutes lecturing you on the dangers and illegalities of pepper spray. You mostly tune him out. 

The bell rings, finally putting an end to Robin’s monologue, and you head to class. You focus on the lesson, and Sirris calls you up to the front of the class. A student uses a ruler to flash your panties to everyone. To make matters worse, Sirris wanted you to undress for the demonstration. You comply, feeling humiliated as the class leers at your body. +++Stress

The bell rings, and you rush out of the classroom. You feel your heart pounding in your chest as you walk. Your ears are ringing, your heartbeat is too loud, the world is spinning, and—

It’s all too much for you. You pass out. 

—————————

It is Thursday, the 8th of September, 2022. -It has been 4 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are uneasy Control: You are insecure Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You wake up with something soft yet firm under your head and Sydney right above you. 

“You’re awake!” He says. “I was worried. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I brought you back to the library.” “Not the nurse?” You say, getting up. You realize that you’ve been lying on Sydney’s lap. Sydney looks sheepish. 

“I didn’t think of that,” he says, not meeting your gaze. He looks genuine, but you get the feeling he’s not being honest. +Awareness 

Sydney insists you stay with him for another ten minutes so he can monitor your condition. When you ask about going to the nurse again he makes an excuse of not knowing if you’re good to walk. You decide not to push it any further and spend the next ten minutes chatting with Sydney. When the ten minutes are up, he looks hesitant to let you go but relents regardless. +Love +Lust -Sydney’s purity

By the time you leave, it’s already lunch. You missed two classes. ++Deliquency

Feeling stressed from everything, you decide to sit alone in hopes of relaxing. You should have known better, however, as a group of students soon come by to make your day harder. The second they start jeering at you, you unhook your pepper spray and blast them all in the face. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status

The students are screaming and hurling insults, but the ringing in your ears makes it impossible to hear them. You finish your lunch in silence. 

You spend the rest of school zoning out, hoping your stress will subside. It works, kind of. 

You have detention, but you don’t feel like going. Considering all the shit you pulled today, Leighton is probably going to take off your clothes and smack you or something. You don’t have good enough grades to know where the tunnel from school is, so you walk out the front. Leighton tries to stop you, but you pepper spray him. ++Crime (Assault) ++Delinquency +Status 

A group of students say they’re going to the lake. You could use a change of scenery. You join them. +Status

Hanging out at the lake is fun enough. No one tries to grope you after what happened at lunch, so you end up having a somewhat enjoyable time. 

Then they start bullying another student, who thankfully isn’t here to listen to them shit-talking them, and what little fun you were having quickly melts away. You stand up and walk away, deciding to go for a swim instead. You think about retrieving the lichen for your science project but push the thought out of your mind. 

You swim for about an hour, and when you exit the water, the sun is already beginning to set. Your fellow classmates are still hanging out, but you don’t really feel like joining them, so you put on your clothes and go for a walk, planning to head back after you’re done.

You hear a bullet firing from afar. Something is hunting you.

Fuck. You whip around, trying to locate the source of the bullet. You heard it shoot from behind you, but you don’t see anyone. Going back the way you came might mean running straight into their arms. You glance around one last time, but a second gunshot has you running on your feet in no time.

You dash through the woods, not bothering to look behind you as the gun fires off in the near distance. You don’t think they’re shooting at you, and running zig-zag like you were taught as a kid just means slowing down. So, you run straight ahead with no clear plan in mind. You unhook your pepper spray again (you should probably thank Kylar), just in case, but you don’t know how much good it will do in a gunfight. Still, something is better than nothing, so you hold onto it, keeping it close to your chest as you run, run, run.

Your foot hits something strange and loses balance. You don’t even have time to process it until you’re lifted upside-down by your heel, face to inverted face with a plant person. 

“I caught one!” The plant girl exclaims. “This one’s wearing lacey panties!” You spray her, and she falls, her vines releasing you instantly. It’s only when you see sap pouring out from a hole on the side of her head that you hear the gunshot and realize it wasn’t you that took her down.

“Got you,” Eden says, a hand on your shoulder. You try to turn around, but the second you move, you’re on the ground, nose pressed into the soil, and arms pinned behind you in a painful grip. You feel your pepper spray being torn from your hand and thrown next to a bush. 

Shit. Shit!

He’s got you in a submission hold. There’s nothing you can do but go along with it and wait for an opportunity. It takes everything in you not to thrash and scream against his hold, but you know that would only make things worse. Eden runs his hand down your back, stopping when he gets to the hem of your skirt. He flips it up, taking a moment to admire it before giving it a light slap. You jump when he hits you, though it’s more about the surprise than the pain.

“You’re hurting me!” You cry, trying your best to sound helpless. “Please let go!” You weakly struggle against his grip for good measure. 

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, voice gruff. “Can’t do that. You’ll run away.” 

“I’ll be good! I’ll be good! Please, please, let me go!” You wiggle around, pretending this is as much strength as you can muster up. Eden leans down and studies your expression for a moment. You can feel the outline of his cock on your back as he leans down to look at you. The scrutiny in such a position is near-unbearable, but he releases you without a word. 

You force yourself to be still for a moment, not to do anything that would alert him. Then, slowly, you turn around and, mustering up every bit of courage you have, lean up and kiss him. He seems taken aback but soon reciprocates the gesture. You press into him, stroking and massaging his skin as you cautiously lean him back into a more desirable position. 

Though it costs you your dignity, you’re eventually able to get on top of him, grinding against him through his pants as you lower him to the ground. When you’ve got him completely below you, and you’re straddling his hips, you break the kiss and pull yourself up. 

“I think it's time we get rid of these,” you say, grabbing your panties and lifting your hips, then swaying them suggestively. You shift your weight to one knee and lift your other leg up, then, in a sudden, adrenaline-charged burst of speed, you throw yourself off of him and stagger to your feet. You kick him in the crotch and run towards the bush where your pepper spray landed. 

Eden catches your foot, and you nosedive towards the ground. You fall, but pepper spray is just within reach. You grab it and go limp. Eden drags your body closer to his, and you use it as an opportunity to spray him. He grabs his eyes and recoils, and you quickly gather yourself and run back the way you came. 

Your clothes snag on bushes and branches as you run, but you pay it no mind as you force yourself to run. You can’t hear anything but the wind in your ears, so you have no idea if Eden is chasing you or not. 

Silly you, it shouldn’t have been Eden you were worrying about. 

You feel yourself hit the ground before you even register being knocked down. There’s a growling above you and two hands on either side of your body. You twist around, barely even registering the wolf ears and sharp teeth of the man on top of you. You spray him, and he staggers back. You rush to your feet and keep running until you’re safely out of the forest. Your clothes are practically in scraps by the time you’re out, and at this point, you think it’ll be cheaper to just buy new clothes instead of fixing them. 

Then, it hits you. The pain and exhaustion. 

You drop to your knees, suddenly aware of every scratch, scrape, and bruise you acquired while running through the forest, suddenly aware of the strain on your muscles from the fatigue. You stay sitting for a few minutes, waiting for your muscles to stop hurting or for you to stop caring. When you notice the sun is starting to set, you pull yourself up and drag yourself back home, where you run a bath and then go straight to bed. 

—————————

It is Friday, the 9th of September, 2022. -It has been 5 days since the game started. -The game started in autumn.  -It is autumn. -School term Finishes on Friday the 2nd of December. Current Funds: £529 Pain: You are upset Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are distressed Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged

You get up and check your socials on your phone.

Excellent Good Decent Okay Poor Bad Terrible Primary relationships:  Robin The Orphan Robin wants to be your best friend.              Fascination: 100% Love: 5% Devotion: 30% Lust: 40%         Confidence: 0% Trauma: 0% Jealousy: 5% Whitney The Bully  Whitney wants to own you.       Fascination: 50% Love: 10% Devotion: 0% Dominance: 40% Jealousy: 0% Lust: 100%  Kylar The Loner Kylar is obsessed with you.       Fascination: 100% Love: 9% Devotion: 55% Jealousy: 55%        Lust: 90% Sydney The Faithful ? Sydney is conflicted.       Fascination: 70% Love: 8% Devotion: 25% Purity: 20%        Jealousy: 0% Lust: 70%  Avery The Businessman Avery thinks you’re cute.     Fascination: 55% Love: 1% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 30% Rage: 0% Eden The Hunter Eden wants you back.     Fascination: 80% Love: 0% Devotion: 0% Jealousy: 0%     Dominance: 0% Lust: 100% Black Wolf The Alpha Black Wolf wants to see you again. Reputation:  The police consider you a person of interest, and have enough evidence for an arrest. The atmosphere in the orphanage is calm. You are considered a normal student by teachers. Your fellow students desire you. Lust: 100% Status: 60% Sex: Unknown. Prostitution: Unknown. Rape: Obscure. Beastiality: Unknown. Exhibitionism: Obscure. Pregnancy: Unknown. Combat: Low-key. Kindness: Obscure. Business: Unknown. Socialite: Unknown. Overall: Notorious. The townsfolk call you Darling. Those in the criminal underworld call you Darling.

Your eyes hover over your police reputation. You sigh. You’ll have to visit Landry after school. You throw your covers off of you and climb out of bed, groggily going to your wardrobe. 

Right. Your clothes got torn. You pick up an undamaged skirt and shirt, tossing the tattered garments into the trash. You put on your clothes and pick up your bag, not bothering to stop by Robin’s room this morning. You take a bus to the shopping center, where you do what you should have done on day one: buy clothes that actually cover you. You browse for a few minutes, looking for something as pervert-proof as possible. You settle on a school blouse, shorts, a sports bra, suspenders, and a pair of work boots. 

The shorts provide you protection against people lifting your skirt, the suspenders (which you’ll have to sew on) keep you from being pantsed, the sports bra can’t be unclipped and provides support in case you need to run, and the work boots will help you keep your footing when you need to go to the moor or the woods. 

You buy what you’re wearing as well as a few backups of the shorts and shirt, totaling £215. You pay and leave, arriving at school just in time for your science class. Today’s Friday, so you have a chance to improve your grades if you do well on the tests. 

The lesson pace is a little different from usual. It’s just a review of everything you’ve learned this week. Nothing new is being covered, so you don’t bother to take notes. Not that you’ve had any time to study your notes since coming here.

The test is easy enough, despite your terrible study habits, and you manage to improve your grade to a D. -Stress

The rest of the day continues similarly, and soon you have D’s all across the board. --Stress

You go to the pub after school, looking around for a thin man or woman with black hair and a grey sweater. You feel a hand on your shoulder and turn your head. It’s a tall man you’ve never seen before. He’s covered in tattoos.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, booze on his breath. “Don’t think I don’t recognize you. You’re the talk of the town. Bit surprising not seeing you being fucked raw, though.” His grip on your shoulder tightens. “I reckon it’s time I got my slice of the pie. You like it rough, right? That’s what I’ve heard. Come ‘ere, sweetheart.” 

“Am I interrupting?” You hear a man’s voice, and the tall man’s hand on your shoulder loses it’s grip. You look over to see the face of your savior and realize it’s the very person you were looking for. Your face shifts to one of relief. -Stress

“Yeah,” he says. “Piss off.”

“I recognize you.” 

“You should, I come here more often than I-” 

“March 3rd, 2009. Nightingale Street.” The tall man pales. “So you know what I’m talking about. I wasn’t there myself, but I’ve heard the stories. You were the talk of the town.” 

The tall man stutters. “Y-you’re not with the fuzz. You won’t turn me in.”

“You don’t know that. And either way, we both know you’re not hiding from the police. So how about you let her go, and I won’t tip off the Elk about your latest haunt.” The tall man looks at you, then Landry, then you again. Landry smiles. He throws his hands off of you.

“Fine. Shit, fine. You her lover? You picked a damn slutty one.” Landry waits until the man is out of earshot before turning to you. 

“Come with me,” he says. “I want to talk to you in private.”

“Reputation isn’t always a good thing,” Landry says as you sit down. “Word’s spread about you. You’re notorious. That’s why that drunkard went for you. You remember what he said, right?” 

“I haven’t even done anything,” you say. 

“No, but you’re pretty while doing it,” Landry retorts. “Not hitting on you,” he says. 

“Thanks?” 

“It’s not a good thing. You attract attention wherever you go. Where a normal person might have to fuck a hundred people to start getting known as a slut around town, you’d only have to fuck one.” 

“Oh,” you say, slinking in your seat. “So, what can I do?” 

“I think I can help you,” he pauses. “Well, not me. But I think I know someone. This orphan at the home on Domus Street. A computer whiz. Mickey, or McKay, something like that. Best hope is to find this orphan. If you can get them to come work with me, they’ll be able to hook you up. There’ll be some money in it for you, too. Just don’t step on Bailey’s toes.” You nod. 

“Thank you,” you say. Landry smiles.

“There’s another thing, too,” he says. “I’ll be frank. I know you need money. Don’t ask me how I know, word gets around. I think I can help you. If you come across any jewelry or other items you don’t know what to do with, I can take them off your hands. I’ll pay well.” He looks over your shoulder. “As well as can be expected, anyway.” 

“Can you help me get the police off my trail?”

“I can help you,” he says, reclining. “But I need you to do something for me. And no, it’s not about money. I was expecting a package, but it never arrived. Good thing I know where to find it, it had a GPS tracker. It got lost somewhere deep in the moor. Get it for me, and I’ll prevent any of your past misdemeanors being pinned on you. It’s a small black box.” You nod and stand. 

“Oh, and do be careful,” Landry says. “I don’t believe the tales of monsters, but there’s a sensible reason behind some superstitions.” 

You’re already wearing work boots, but you want to wear something that you can afford to tear, too. Preferably something resistant that can protect you. But you don’t have the money for that, so you head back to the orphanage and wear the only other outfit you have, a sundress. You put your pepper spray keychain on your bookbag and take it with you, hoping you won’t run out during this trip. 

After double checking everything is in order, you leave the orphanage and begin to make the long trek to the moor. 

Several people attempt to pick you up along the way. By which you mean literally every person who passes by you has slowed down to talk and ask where you’re headed. Not willing to risk anything, you turn them all down, running when they get too persistent. By the time you finally make it to the farmlands, you’re exhausted. So you sit down near the entrance to rest, knowing you’ll need your energy for the moor. 

“You alright there?” Someone asks. You look up to see a suntanned boy under a straw hat, looking concerned. He looks around your age, with red hair and a boyish appearance. He must be Alex, you realize.

“It was just a really long walk to get here,” you admit sheepishly. 

“You walked all the way from town?” You nod. “Well, Jesus! No wonder you’re so tired. Come in and get some water, my place isn’t far.” 

“Do you own the farm?” 

“Yeah, I do! It’s a work in progress, but it’s home.” You smile. 

Alex is right, and it doesn’t take long to reach the cottage, where he offers you a glass of water. You thank him and gulp it down. +++Drugged

…Huh?

You stare at your phone. The screen seems to shift.

Pain: You feel okay Arousal: You feel cold Fatigue: You are wearied Stress: You are calm Trauma: You are nervous Control: You are anxious Allure: You look like you need to be ravaged A lewd warmth fills you Your perception is altered

You look back up to Alex, who’s staring at you with a grin. You stand up but nearly fall. Alex stands with you, his hands on your shoulders. 

“Easy, there,” he says as if you’re a horse that needs to calm down. You shove him off of you and  run, reaching for your pepper spray, but in your altered state, you can’t figure out how to unhook it. 

>Try again (Skullduggery: Impossible) >Rip it off (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You rip it off, but the fabric holds firm. Alex is close behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

You try again and the fabric doesn’t yield. Alex is right behind you.

>Try again (Athletics: Challenging) >Spray without unhooking (Dance: Very Difficult) 

This is taking too long. You spray without unhooking, managing to get Alex, but in your flailing, also manage to spray yourself. +++Pain ++Willpower

You run, you don’t even know where you’re going you just run.

You can’t open your eyes, but you know they wouldn’t be of much help in this state, anyway. You run until you hit what feels like tall grass, then slow. You’re in the moor now. 

You try to quiet your breathing as you listen for anything that may be chasing you or lying in wait. You hear nothing. You go a little further in, just enough to be hidden among the grass and wait. 

Eventually, the pain subsides, and you open your bleary eyes. You still feel unsteady, though, so you wait longer. It takes another forty minutes for you to regain full balance and control of your body. When you do, you trudge deeper into the moor, relying on the map on your phone to guide you to the box. After what feels like two hours of searching, you finally find the box across from some water. 

You grimace as you step in, your shoes and socks instantly soaking with dirty water. The water is about knee-high, so not enough to touch your sundress but just enough to make movement heavily uncomfortable. You hobble over the box, just about to reach it, when you feel something suck you in. 

You look behind you and recognize the thing as a lurker. You waste no time and spray it, freeing yourself and grabbing the box before leaving. 

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and just as you leave the water, you see a terrible shadow overhead. You look up and notice a harpy in the sky. You are being hunted.

You start to run. Your pursuer approaches rapidly. ++Stress

You run faster, pushing yourself to your limits as you sprint across the moor. But luck is never on your side, and your foot sinks into something as you land. You look down, and it’s a fucking foxhole. Not big enough for you to run through or hide in. You pull yourself out, but it’s too late. 

“Found wife,” he says. You spray him and keep running. That should keep him out of commission for a while. 

Eventually, you feel safe enough to walk the rest of the way out of the moor. You sneak around the farmlands and begin to walk the rest of the way home. You’re too tired to make it very far, however, and soon pass out on the road. You feel yourself being lifted onto a stretcher before passing out again.

You’ve unlocked a fragment.

<Prev Next>

[yanderefarm]

.......imagine combining potatoing and the limited amount of words idea, cocksleeves dont need to talk after all :)

that lends so well into my love of making potatos dumber. like going from fully articulated man to a soft little thing that squirms and whines instead of using his words.

this became a whole thing. so enjoy you filthy animals. /lh

cw;; nsft, dead dove, amputation, electrocution, torture, unsanitary

i like that with achilles especially because for him this is the ultimate fantasy the best scenario in his world. completely dependent on you because you chose to take away his autonomy. but he still talks like he's a respectful member of society and not like he's a glorified cock sleeve, its not acceptable.

he also gets to ease into it, starting him with a good amount of words and slowly lowering it. but it gets even lower than noemie did because he doesn't even need to say pleasantries. good morning, good night, hello, its unnecessary. he needs to say yes, please, im sorry, and thank you and that's it. if he tries to waste his words on stupid things like no or stop he's going to end up punished in two ways.

it's fun to show off to your followers the sight of him using up his words. it's just a normal stream, you're playing games and in your lap is your cute little toy. everyone knows your cock is currently buried in your human onahole but you're not bouncing him or even moving, just letting him sit on your lap. someone asks how many words he has left today and so you check. it looks like he's been conservative today and he has about 10 left. so it's time to waste those precious words of your dumb toy. you make him look at the chat and people can pay for him to say things, of course you don't want them to use up all ten in one go so it's limited. the fun of watching him slowly fuck himself over begins.

"how are you doing today, pet?"

he blinks his pretty eyes and swallows.

"uhmm good..?"

"are you having fun?"

"yes!"

"what are you doing right now?"

you give him a good thrust to remind him. he gasps and whimpers with saliva dripping out of his mouth.

"mm.. t-taking master's co-cock."

that's 5.

"do you love your master?"

"yes!!"

"are you happy to be a fuck toy?"

"yes!!"

"do you ever regret losing your limbs?"

he looks back at you as best he can with a pout.

"you can say no this time." you assure him.

"no! i don't!"

that's the other 5.

"how many words do you have left?"

he blinks in confusion like he doesn't know what game you've all been playing.

"10."

that was the very last word. so you press him against your desk and push your cock even deeper into him. everyone is watching you remind him, everyone can see him and they know he's a sex toy.

"tell them thank you."

he's struggling with your cock now slamming into him making his entire body shake.

"tell them thank you." you say more sternly directing his slutty face to the camera.

"th-thank-"

the word barely leaves his mouth and he screams as the electricity buzzes through his body. that also earns him a hard slap on the ass.

"are you an ungrateful bitch? you need to be a good boy and say thank you properly."

"th-thank yyyYOUUU-"

another slap to accompany the shocks.

"thank you for watching this useless cock sleeve."

"ca-caaant-"

he's crying now as you continue to punish him along with the painful shocks. your relentless pounding of his tight hole doesn't stop either it's an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure.

you pull him all the way onto your cock and sit back in your chair.

"tell me you can't again. see what happens."

"sowwy"

his voice is hoarse as his entire body twitches and writhes with the pain.

"now say it."

"tha-thank y-" a scream. "you fffforr-" more sobbing. "waaaaaatchingggggahh-" his body slumped forward but you pulled him back. "th-thisssss u-" his head fell against your shoulder as his body arched away from the pain. "useless-" he was flailing to get away from it. "co-coooock sleeeeeeeeveee-"

you watched as the poor toy couldn't help but release his bladder all over his stubby thighs and your lap.

"oh no... i think achilles wants to be punished even more."

[becausebuckley]

michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!

what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!

this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.

if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!

all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M

When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3

i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M

Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3

if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA

Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3

let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T

Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!

second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M

how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3

said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T

And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe

there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA

Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3

you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T

five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (the eclipse of the alliance)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: lion's pride

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The gentle afternoon light spills through the windows of your chambers, casting a light over the rich silks and delicate fabrics laid out before you. Rhaenyra sits beside you, her eyes alight with excitement as she picks up a length of golden lace, holding it against the fabric of your gown and studying it with a critical but admiring gaze.

“This,” she says decisively, her tone one of certainty. “It’s perfect. The color, the delicacy—it suits you.”

You smile, taking the lace from her hands and feeling its softness beneath your fingertips. “You’re right. It’s beautiful,” you murmur, your voice tinged with a hint of disbelief as you look around at the array of details before you—the lace, the intricate embroidery, the small jewels meant to adorn your gown, each piece carefully chosen for your upcoming wedding. “I can hardly believe this is happening. Sometimes it feels like a dream, one I thought I’d never be lucky enough to have.”

Rhaenyra watches you thoughtfully, a knowing smile pulling at the corners of her lips. “Then let it be real, sister. Let this wedding, this happiness, be yours.”

You look up at her, your expression softening. “I always thought… that my match would be nothing more than a duty. That I’d be married off to some lord for an alliance, as so many noble ladies are. Matches made for gain rather than happiness. I’d resigned myself to that fate.”

Rhaenyra nods, understanding in her gaze as she places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “I know. So many of us are given no choice at all.” She pauses, her eyes darkening slightly with memories of her own struggles, her own sacrifices for duty. “I fought my battles to make sure I could find my own happiness. I know what it’s like to feel… bound by the expectations of others.”

You give her a small, grateful smile, reaching out to take her hand. “And now, here I am, free to choose and to marry a man who… who sees me for who I am, not just as a princess.” Your voice softens, and you feel a rush of warmth as you think of Tyland, of the unexpected comfort and understanding you’ve found with him. “I never thought I’d find that.”

Rhaenyra squeezes your hand, her smile turning tender. “Tyland is a good man. And he adores you—I see it every time he looks at you. You deserve someone who values you, who would go to any length to protect you and cherish you.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “It still amazes me, really. I see other noble ladies here, young women with dreams and spirits of their own, resigned to marriages that bring them neither love nor happiness. I feel as if I’ve somehow defied the odds.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “Then let us call it luck, sister, or perhaps fate. You are marrying a Lannister, after all. They say those lions have a way of claiming what they want—and it seems you’ve claimed each other.”

You chuckle, feeling your spirits lift as she leans in, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. “Though I must admit, I can hardly imagine you at Casterly Rock,” she adds with a teasing smile. “All those stony halls and golden lions—it will be quite the contrast to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head, laughing. “I doubt I’ll ever be quite at home there, even with all the lions watching over us. But Tyland will be here, with me, at King’s Landing, at least for now. And I think… I think that’s all I need to feel at home.”

Rhaenyra nods, her expression softening as she hands you a delicate ribbon embroidered with faint threads of gold. “Then let’s make this wedding everything you deserve,” she says, her tone gentle yet determined. “Let it be a celebration of you, of the choice you’ve made, and of the happiness you’ve claimed.”

You take the ribbon from her, the weight of the fabric a comforting presence in your hands as you meet her gaze, a sense of joy and gratitude welling up within you. “Thank you, Rhaenyra. For standing by me, for helping me make this choice, for… everything.”

Rhaenyra smiles, her eyes glistening slightly as she leans in to embrace you. “Always, sister. You’re not just a princess—you’re family, my family. And I would see you happy, above all else.”

The two of you pull back, a shared sense of joy lingering in the air as you continue to select the final touches for the wedding. And as you hold each fabric, each delicate detail chosen with care, you feel the quiet certainty of the life you are building—one that, against all odds, has brought you both love and freedom.

The small council chamber is filled with activity as King Viserys and his advisors discuss the arrangements for the upcoming wedding. Viserys sits at the head of the table, his expression one of contentment, a faint smile pulling at his lips as he listens to the details being laid out before him. Around the table, each member of the council appears engaged, but none more so than Tyland, who sits at Viserys’s left, the faintest trace of pride lighting his gaze as he listens to the preparations.

“The invitations have been sent to the noble Houses, Your Grace,” Lord Beesbury begins, shuffling a stack of parchment before him. “Most have already responded with their intent to attend. The Great Sept has agreed to host the ceremony, and arrangements for the feast are underway.”

Viserys nods approvingly, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Good. It should be a celebration worthy of both Houses.” He glances briefly at Tyland. “This union is more than a simple wedding; it’s a symbol of our alliance, of peace between our Houses.”

Lord Jasper Wylde nods, a smile tugging at his lips. “And with such esteemed guests, it will serve as a reminder of the Crown’s strength. House Lannister and House Targaryen together—there are few in Westeros who would challenge that.”

Tyland inclines his head in gratitude. “Thank you, my lord. It is our intent that this union strengthens the realm as much as it does our families.”

At that, Lord Lyonel Strong, ever the voice of reason, speaks up, his tone thoughtful. “It will be a fine day for the realm, Your Grace. The symbolism alone holds power, and it shows your commitment to unity and prosperity.”

Viserys nods, clearly pleased. But as the conversation begins to wind down, Otto Hightower clears his throat, leaning forward with a slight frown, his eyes fixed on the King.

“Your Grace,” he begins, his voice calm but carrying a hint of unease, “while I, of course, understand the significance of this match, there is something I feel compelled to address.” He pauses, his gaze shifting briefly to Tyland before returning to Viserys. “It has not gone unnoticed that many lords from the Westerlands have taken it upon themselves to establish a steady presence here at court. Their enthusiasm is… notable, to say the least.”

Viserys’s brow furrows slightly, but before he can respond, Tyland speaks up, his tone even but carrying an undertone of steel.

“Surely, Lord Otto, you don’t find it concerning that lords sworn to House Lannister wish to be present to support my union with the princess?” His eyes narrow slightly, his expression calm but his voice carrying a subtle edge. “Or does the strengthening of the Crown’s alliance with the West somehow trouble you?”

Otto meets Tyland’s gaze with a measured look, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of formality. “It is not the alliance itself that raises my concern, Lord Tyland,” he replies smoothly. “It’s the sudden influx of Western influence within the heart of the court. The Crown’s interests must remain balanced, and as Hand, it is my duty to ensure that one region does not… overstep.”

A faint smile tugs at Tyland’s lips, though his eyes remain sharp. “House Lannister has long been a loyal servant to the Crown, Lord Otto. And if my kin see fit to lend their support to this union, it’s only a reflection of their dedication to stability.” He pauses, letting the words hang for a moment. “Or is it that you fear the West’s influence might rival that of the Reach?”

Viserys raises a hand, his expression firm but carrying a hint of weariness as he interjects. “This union was intended to bring peace and strength, not division.” He glances between Otto and Tyland, his tone carrying an undercurrent of authority. “Otto, I understand your concerns, but I expect all of my council to work toward a shared vision for the realm.”

Lyonel Strong, ever the voice of reason, inclines his head and speaks up. “Your Grace is wise. Both the Reach and the West are pillars of strength within the realm. Surely, we can find a way to honor both without falling into rivalries.”

Beesbury nods in agreement. “Precisely. The nobility’s support should be a cause for celebration, not suspicion. If anything, this wedding reaffirms the unity of Westeros.”

Otto’s jaw tightens, though he keeps his expression respectful as he inclines his head toward Viserys. “Of course, Your Grace. I merely wish to ensure that our alliances remain… in harmony.”

Tyland watches Otto with a faint, knowing smile, his gaze unwavering. “Rest assured, Lord Otto, House Lannister’s loyalty remains with the King and his vision for the realm. We are here to strengthen the throne, not challenge it.”

Viserys nods, clearly satisfied with the exchange. “Good. That is what I wish to hear from all my council. Let us continue preparations for the wedding without unnecessary divisions. This union is a gift to the realm, a sign of our strength.”

The room falls into a respectful silence, and Tyland glances briefly at Otto, catching the faint hint of disdain still lingering in the Hand’s eyes. But he lets it go, choosing instead to focus on the satisfaction of having the King’s support and the chance to stand beside you openly, unchallenged.

The afternoon sun filters gently through the leaves of the garden, casting dappled shadows across the soft grass where Daemon lounges with an air of casual defiance. He’s sprawled on a low stone bench, eyes half-lidded, but there’s an unmistakable edge to his expression, a simmering intensity that hints at the impatience he’s barely kept in check for weeks.

Across the garden path, Tyland approaches, deep in conversation with a few courtiers from the Westerlands, their voices a soft hum in the distance. The men laugh, voices warm with camaraderie, but Daemon’s gaze sharpens as he watches them approach. A faint smile, more of a smirk than anything, curves on his lips as he rises slowly, deliberately positioning himself in their path.

When Tyland and his companions draw near, Daemon makes no effort to move aside. Instead, he inclines his head with a mocking smile, his gaze fixed squarely on Tyland, ignoring the courtiers entirely.

“Lord Tyland,” Daemon drawls, his voice carrying a faint, derisive edge. “So good of you to grace the gardens today. I thought you might be too busy… consolidating all that influence you’ve acquired.”

Tyland stops, meeting Daemon’s gaze with a cool, measured expression, his tone even. “Prince Daemon,” he replies, inclining his head in polite acknowledgment. “The gardens are a welcome respite from court, though I hadn’t expected to find you here.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “Oh, I find the garden to be an excellent place to observe the… comings and goings of court.” He pauses, his tone growing colder as he adds, “Particularly when certain guests are determined to dig their roots a little too deeply.”

One of the courtiers, an older lord from the Westerlands, glances nervously between the two men, sensing the tension. “Perhaps we should take our leave, my lord,” he murmurs to Tyland.

But Tyland gives a slight shake of his head, his gaze never leaving Daemon. “No need,” he says, his voice steady. “Prince Daemon and I merely have… differing perspectives.”

Daemon chuckles, crossing his arms as he looks Tyland up and down, his gaze both mocking and probing. “Differing perspectives, indeed. Tell me, Tyland—have you grown comfortable here, at court, or are you simply savoring the novelty? A lion in the dragon’s den. You must enjoy the thrill of it.”

Tyland’s expression remains unreadable, his tone calm but firm. “I am here because I was invited, Prince Daemon, by both the King and the princess.” His gaze sharpens, a hint of steel in his eyes. “If my presence disturbs you, perhaps it is because you see the strength it brings to the realm.”

Daemon laughs, the sound more biting than amused. “Strength? Is that what you call it?” He takes a step closer, his voice lowering, though his words are pointed enough for the courtiers to hear. “Tell me, Tyland, do you honestly believe your golden lion could ever hold its own against the fire of a dragon?”

The Westerlands lord shifts uncomfortably, but Tyland holds Daemon’s gaze, his tone unwavering. “Respectfully, Prince Daemon, strength does not always roar. Sometimes it is silent, enduring… and far more resilient than flame.” His eyes narrow slightly. “And House Lannister has withstood far more than the bite of a dragon’s fire.”

Daemon’s smirk fades, a flash of anger darkening his gaze. “I wonder if you’ll keep such confidence when you realize that dragons do not tolerate the pride of lions.”

Tyland’s face remains impassive, his voice a calm counterpoint to Daemon’s rising anger. “Perhaps you would do well to remember that lions do not bow so easily, either.”

The courtiers glance uneasily between them, caught between the quiet intensity of Tyland’s defiance and the barely contained rage simmering beneath Daemon’s casual exterior. Finally, one of them steps forward, bowing slightly to Daemon in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

“Prince Daemon, Lord Tyland,” he says cautiously. “Perhaps… it would be best to keep our focus on the upcoming celebrations. The union between House Targaryen and House Lannister is a boon to the realm.”

Daemon’s gaze flicks to the courtier with a look of faint disdain, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he steps even closer to Tyland, his voice a quiet, venomous whisper. “If you believe that a wedding band and a few pretty words will make you my equal, Tyland, you’re sorely mistaken. You may sit at court, but know this—you will never be part of my family.”

Tyland’s jaw tightens, but he remains composed, his voice level. “I am not here to compete with you, Prince Daemon. My loyalty is to the princess and to the realm. And whether you accept me or not will not change that.”

Daemon’s eyes blaze with a barely concealed fury, and for a moment, it seems as though he might say more—something that would truly cross the line. But instead, he steps back, his smirk returning, though his eyes remain cold.

“Very well,” he says, his tone laced with mockery. “Enjoy your place, Lord Tyland. For as long as it lasts.”

With that, Daemon turns on his heel, his movements sharp, his departure leaving an uncomfortable silence in his wake. The courtiers exchange uncertain glances, unsure of whether to remain or leave, but Tyland merely straightens, his expression unreadable as he watches Daemon disappear into the distance.

One of the lords, still clearly unsettled, clears his throat. “Lord Tyland… are you… all right?”

Tyland looks at him, offering a small, composed smile. “Quite all right,” he says calmly, though his gaze lingers in the direction Daemon had gone. “Let us continue. There’s still much to prepare for the wedding.”

And as he walks forward with the courtiers, Tyland’s mind remains steady, resolute. Whatever Daemon’s anger, whatever his threats, he would face them all—for you, and for the future that now lay firmly within his grasp.

The sun is warm as you sit with your ladies-in-waiting in the gardens, laughter and easy conversation filling the air. The gentle rustle of silk skirts and the soft chatter of voices blend with the birdsong, creating a rare moment of peace in the otherwise bustling Red Keep. You’re reviewing samples of delicate lace, choosing the final details for your wedding gown, when the unmistakable figure of Queen Alicent, flanked by her own ladies, steps into view.

The mood shifts instantly, the easy laughter fading as your ladies fall silent, their gazes respectful yet wary. Alicent approaches with a pleasant smile, her expression warm, though her eyes hold a glint of something sharper, a curiosity laced with subtle calculation.

“Y/N,” she greets you smoothly, her tone polite. “I thought I might join you for a moment. The preparations for your wedding must be keeping you quite busy.”

You rise, offering a polite nod, though you feel the weight of her scrutiny. “Thank you, Your Grace. They are indeed,” you reply, keeping your tone courteous. “There’s so much to plan and consider.”

Alicent nods, her gaze drifting over the lace samples and delicate fabrics before settling on you. “It’s a grand match,” she says, her voice smooth but carrying a faint edge. “A marriage between House Targaryen and House Lannister… it’s quite an alliance. No doubt it will strengthen both Houses considerably.”

You meet her gaze, aware of the probing curiosity behind her words. “That is the intent,” you reply calmly. “Both families stand to gain from this union. And it pleases the King, which is what matters most.”

Alicent’s smile remains in place, though her gaze sharpens subtly. “Yes, and House Lannister has taken a particular interest in this match. Their presence at court has been… substantial as of late. I imagine they must be quite invested in your future.”

You tilt your head slightly, meeting her gaze with a measured smile. “House Lannister has always been loyal to the Crown, Your Grace. They are here to show their support for this alliance, as is expected of any House when one of their own weds a member of the royal family.”

Alicent’s expression doesn’t falter, though you can sense her curiosity deepening, her desire to uncover what she perceives as hidden motives. “Of course,” she murmurs, a hint of skepticism in her tone. “Though I wonder, what is it that Lord Tyland truly seeks? It’s rare for the lions to venture far from the Rock without a purpose.”

You feel a flicker of irritation at her insinuation, but you maintain your composure, lifting your chin slightly. “With respect, Your Grace, I wonder why this marriage concerns you so deeply. After all, it’s a match for a second sister, not a matter of succession. When Rhaenyra wed Laenor Velaryon, her marriage faced far less scrutiny, even though she was named heir to the throne. Yet here we are, with far more interest in my union.”

A faint shadow crosses Alicent’s expression, though she quickly masks it, her smile tightening slightly. “I am only concerned for the stability of the realm, Y/N. House Velaryon was already allied with House Targaryen; their marriage brought unity. But the Lannisters… they are not as close to the Throne as House Velaryon.”

You match her gaze evenly, refusing to back down. “House Lannister is sworn to the Crown, as are all great Houses. Their loyalty is to the King and his family, just as House Velaryon’s was. And Tyland… he has shown nothing but respect for me, for my family, and for the Crown.”

Alicent’s gaze lingers on you, her expression unreadable as she studies you with a mixture of surprise and mild irritation. “I see,” she replies, her tone softening slightly, though you sense she is still unconvinced. “It is… commendable, how you speak in his defense. You seem to have found quite a confidence in Lord Tyland.” Her voice is smooth, but the underlying note of scrutiny remains.

You hold her gaze, refusing to let her subtle implications unsettle you. “Confidence, yes, and respect, Your Grace. Tyland is a man of honor, and I would not have chosen him otherwise. He seeks no undue power—only a bond of loyalty, as any union between two noble Houses should offer. That is the strength we intend to bring to the realm.”

One of your ladies shifts beside you, her gaze flicking between you and the Queen, clearly sensing the tension in the air. But Alicent only smiles, her expression polite, if a bit forced, as if attempting to regain control of the conversation.

“Of course,” she replies smoothly. “Such a strong alliance should bring much-needed stability to the realm, and I am pleased to hear that you are… content in this arrangement. I am certain the King shares my hope that this union will serve the Crown well.”

You nod, your tone unwavering. “I believe it will, Your Grace. House Lannister’s loyalty and wealth will strengthen our position, and I am honored to be part of that bond.”

Alicent’s smile falters for a fraction of a second before she regains her composure, glancing briefly at her ladies before meeting your gaze once more. “Then I am glad to see you so resolved, Y/N. Such confidence befits a Targaryen princess.”

Her tone, though polite, holds an edge—a subtle reminder of the power dynamics at play, of the fact that your future, as much as it now feels like your own choice, will always be entangled with the interests of the realm.

You offer her a courteous nod, unfazed. “Thank you, Your Grace. I have found that confidence often accompanies purpose. And I am grateful for my family’s trust in me to make this choice.”

For a moment, there is a quiet tension between you, a silent clash of wills as Alicent studies you, her expression unreadable. Finally, she inclines her head with a tight smile, her gaze lingering a moment longer before she turns to her ladies.

“Very well,” she says, her tone cool and measured. “We must all be certain of our roles in service to the realm.”

With a final glance your way, she gestures to her entourage, who fall in step behind her as she departs, her graceful form retreating down the garden path. As the quiet settles in her wake, one of your ladies lets out a quiet sigh of relief, her face still flushed from the anxiety of the exchange.

You turn back to your ladies, offering them a reassuring smile as you resume your seat. “It seems, ladies,” you murmur, with a faint but confident smile, “that Queen Alicent is far more invested in this wedding than she cares to admit.”

Your ladies share knowing glances, small smiles pulling at their lips as the atmosphere eases once more. And though the conversation with Alicent still lingers in your mind, a quiet confidence settles within you. Whatever doubts or suspicions she may hold, you know where your heart and loyalty lie—and no amount of scrutiny will change that.

In the dim light of Tyland’s private chambers, the world beyond fades away, leaving only the warmth of his embrace, the press of his skin against yours, and the soft murmur of breaths shared in the quiet aftermath. You lie tangled together, wrapped in each other’s arms, the remnants of your passionate union lingering in the charged air. The warmth of the bed and the intimacy of his presence ground you, and for a few moments, you savor the closeness, resting your head against his chest as his fingers trail lazily over your shoulder.

Tyland’s hand finds yours, his thumb tracing gentle patterns over your skin as he sighs, breaking the comfortable silence with a faint chuckle. “It seems, my love, that our match is not without its share of obstacles.” His voice holds a hint of humor, though there’s an edge of something more in his tone—something darker.

You glance up, meeting his gaze, and he gives you a small, rueful smile. “I had an… encounter, let’s call it, with your dear uncle Daemon in the gardens earlier.” His fingers tighten slightly, his expression hardening as he recalls the moment. “He took it upon himself to remind me of the fire that runs in your family’s blood—and to make certain I understand my place.”

Your brow furrows as you push yourself up slightly, resting a hand on his chest as you watch him. “Daemon,” you murmur, your voice laced with a mixture of exasperation and concern. “He couldn’t resist, could he?”

Tyland lets out a low chuckle, though his eyes remain serious. “Apparently not. He made it abundantly clear that he doesn’t see me as his equal—and that he doesn’t intend to welcome me into the family with open arms.” He pauses, his gaze searching yours. “But I assured him that my loyalty is unwavering. No amount of fire from a Targaryen can scorch my resolve.”

A soft smile tugs at your lips, and you reach up to brush a hand along his cheek, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I’m not surprised Daemon tried to intimidate you. He’s… protective in his own twisted way. But he’ll come around. He’ll have to. I’ve chosen you.”

Tyland’s expression softens, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “And for that, I would face dragons a thousand times over.”

You nestle against him, feeling a sense of security in his arms, but the memory of your own recent encounter with Queen Alicent stirs in your mind. Letting out a small sigh, you say softly, “You aren’t the only one who’s had to fend off a member of my family.”

Tyland’s brow arches in interest, his hand coming to rest on your back as he listens. “Oh? Don’t tell me the Queen has taken it upon herself to extend her… concerns.”

You nod, a wry smile tugging at your lips. “You know her well. Alicent came to the gardens earlier, surrounded by her ladies, trying to gauge my intentions—and by extension, yours. She questioned whether House Lannister’s presence at court was truly as benign as it seems.”

Tyland snorts softly, shaking his head. “So she’s taken to examining motives behind every veil and shadow now, has she? What did you tell her?”

“I reminded her,” you reply, a touch of pride in your voice, “that as a second sister, my marriage should hardly warrant such scrutiny. After all, Rhaenyra’s marriage to Laenor faced far less questioning. Alicent didn’t seem pleased by that comparison.”

Tyland chuckles, a faint smirk gracing his lips. “Well said. The Queen may play her games, but you, my love, are more than her match.” He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “It seems we both have to endure our share of challenges from your family. But I would face a hundred of them if it meant being here with you.”

You smile, nestling closer to him, feeling the strength of his resolve surrounding you like a protective barrier. “Whatever challenges they throw at us, we’ll face them together. Alicent, Daemon… they may doubt, they may question, but our loyalty and love for each other remain unshaken.”

Tyland nods, his expression serious as he gazes into your eyes. “And that, my love, is something neither dragons nor queens can ever take from us.”

Wrapped in each other’s arms, you find solace in the quiet strength of your bond, knowing that, no matter the challenges, you have each other to face them with—unwavering, together.

[arley-ology]

I'm very normal about the Drawtectives season three trailer right now and I need to organize my thoughts about it or I will explode soooo putting that all into a tumblr post! This is less theorizing/analysis and more just me writing down things I noticed.

The beginning of the trailer is a slow zoom out on a box TV whose channels are being absent mindedley flicked through. I'm going to go through each of the broadcasts one by one

The first is an ad of some sort for a "Shimmer Park". The narrator for the ad is saying "Need a place to truly be yourself for awhile? Discover Shimmer Park!" This leads me to think that Shimmer Park is some sort of entertainment/play facility for children. Now it may just be my automatic distrust of any entertainment area geared towards kids that was spawned in me via reading Percy Jackson and the Lightning Theif too many times but something about the phrasing of "A place to truly be yourself" feels somewhat disquieting to me idk.

Next up is what appears to be a news broadcast of a local rally by MAPN. MAPN's logo is their abbreviation set over a clock face nkt unlike that on the clock tower we see later. In the middle of the news overlay is the name "Thomas Cornette" possibly the name of the reporter(?). The protesters signs are mostly obscured but the ones I can make out I'm 90% sure say "Not in our community (w/ a drawing of a rat)" and "Save our community". The horned protester in the front is yelling into the microphone, "Corperate overlords will never take our city!". We can assume the "MA" part of MAPN stands for Midnight Alley I'm not quite sure about the rest of it but if I had to guess it might be "Public News" don't quote me on that. To me just the way the clips are set up almost makes it seem like this protest against risk to Midnight Alley community is related to Shimmer Park in some way. The only thing we really know about the protest is it is somehow against corporations and (maybe) rats. There may be a link here to Papa's Pizza which we see later.

After that is the much calmer channel "Knitting with Janice". The woman knitting, assumedly Janice, says "It takes all kinds of threads to make a beautiful colorful tableau!". There's also a cat in a catbed in the background (adorable). Taking the dialoge metaphorically it's something to the effect of "It takes all different kinds of people and ideas to make a good and beautiful community." Now the use of the word tableau here is odd beacuse unless there's some secret knitting terminology I'm not aware of tableau is not usually a term used in fibre arts. A tableau is a still image of people/figures used to represent a more complex story (art/drawing connection??). Now maybe Janice is just knitting a tableau or smthing but the word choice here is interesting to me! Also the cat in the background caught my eye because of the rat themeing of this season. Cats are a major predators of mice. Maybe something like Art and Community beats the rat race???(we see rat race later) Also I'm getting big Bob Ross vibes from this lady please tell me yall see it too

Next we have a film noir (oooo!!). A woman is crying and she has just slapped a man in thr foreground. She says "I've never met a snake like you Jimmy." Snakes! Another predator of rats. But of course snake is meant metaphorically here as someone who is depictful and manipulative. Uhhhh I got nothing else on this one yall. I would say possible connection to the last channel like I did w/ Shimmer Park & The Protest but I refuse to believe that old lady Janice (both "J" names though) is capable of snake-like depict.

Another news broadcast! This seems to be from a news station other than MAPN as they have different overlays. The woman on screen says "In other news Midnight Alley is soon to throw their annual Rat Race". There's a poster for the Rat Race on screen (love a Juilia poster) that shows two rats w/ the numbers "8" and "4" on each of them respectively. I'm gonna ignore the place and date listed on there because in season two those details on posters never really came into play. There's more text on the poster saying "For more information and sign up please visit the M.A. [Midnight Alley] information center" and the bellow that it reads "Hosted by the Parks Department of Spire City". Literal Rat Race, interesting! Ofc in metaphor a rat race is used to describe and struggle of people for money and power that ultimately grants them no reward often used to describe competition in company/work environments #The Hustle. Now this is definitely connected in some way to the protest whether it be litteraly or metaphorically or both is yet to say. Also the Rat Race being sponsored by the Parks Department kinda makes me think of Shimmer Park having something to do w/ this. No matter what I feel like the Rat Race being sponsored by the Parks Department is going to be important somehow.

Papa's Pizza ad now! The guy w/ the Papa's Pizza uniform (owner?) is saying "Papa's Pizza has been here for generations, hand birthing high quality, cheaply priced slices for-". This is probably connected to the Corperation Protest we saw earlier. It seems like small business in Midnight Alley are probably being put at risk in sone way by larger corporations. Take note of how the Papa's Pizza guy's sentence cuts off here

A phone rings of screen in the static between channels.

This channel is a sitcom. A boy looks mischievously into the camera and says "RATS." before a laugh track plays. Someone off screen is holding a bowl of rats (?????) next to him. Now the way the last broadcast cuts off it makes it seem as if Pizza guy is saying "Papa's Pizza has been here for generations, hand birthing high quality, cheaply priced slices for rats." Its interesting how it makes it seem like Papa's Pizza guy - a person who's company would be effected by large corperation take over is in favor of rats - which are being used by the protesters to represent the corperations (kinda maybe?). This feels like it means Something but I can't peice together What.

All the TV programs are done now time to go over the rest of the trailer!

The TV is turned off now and we see Jancy's reflection in the black screen. Its an interesting shot makes it almost seemd like she's part of the programming. She answers the phone that is ringing, a rotary phone. Her tone drops as she revives news from the other end of the line and she tells them she'll send in the team (DRAWTECTIVES!!) right away.

Cut to black. "Children there's been a murder". (OUGH AAAAAAA IM GOING INSANE GOING RABID)

New design silhouettes!! I love them all already. I'm surprised by the lack of hat on Grandma (I like it!!) but other than that I don't really have any comments on them. York says "Do you think the house is capable of murder?". Grendan says "Unless... Murder Santa... I just write murder Santa down." These two might narrow down where at least part of this takes place somewhat. and finally Rosé says "Why are you so quiet daddy?"

Now we have what is most likely our setting, Midnight Alley! This season's logo appears on the background but I didn't grab a screen shot of that whoops. The clock tower here really stands out to me. Perhaps the spire of Spire City? Also this is just a very pleasing drawing!

The end scene of the trailer is of a rat jumping on to screen before menacing yellow eyes w/ slit pupils fade in behind it. I'm tempted to say cat for some reason.

Also Eugene is in the thumbnail but he isn't mentioned at all in the trailer. This might just be because the fans love Eugene and Julia couldn't figure out how to include him anywhere other than the thumbnail but it also makes me a little scared

I said I wasn't gonna therorize but I wanna put down my ideas about when this takes place and where this takes place.

Now Drawtectives is very time-nebulous in general but this season at least seems very 80s inspired to me. The box TV, rotary phone, neon aesthetic for the logo, upbeat disco-y theme music all seem to point towards us not being in the modern day at the very least. Ofc we're going to be in Midnight Alley but Midnight Alley also seems to be in Spire City from what the poster said. York and Grendan's lines also suggest we explore a house at some point, specifically w/ a chimney/fireplace being important.

Anywho that's it for my very nothingburger post about the Season three trailer hope that any of yall that read through alllll of that nonsense enjoyed :]

[wylanlupin]

wolfstar micro fic - 655 words

genderfluid sirius black, jealous remus lupin, sirius black uses she/her and they/them pronouns, famous au, marauders are actors

The camera zooms into the scene, everyone is quiet, while they’re filming. Only Sirius and her scene partner Barty, are allowed to talk.

Remus is sitting on his chair, watching his girlfriend work. He loves watching Sirius act, they’re so talented and always put their everything in each scene. And he is truly in awe of her.

Lily is the holder of their camera today. Being in a film set so long, with all your friends, just screams to be filmed from their perspective. Everyday someone else is the “camera-holder” as James calls it.

Maybe the fans someday will get to see a little footage of it, but it’s more only for them. Their management team and filming team, are responsible for the footage the fans will have for behind the scenes and bloopers.

Remus is sipping on his ice matcha, with his whole focus on his girlfriend, that he doesn’t even realise that Lily is filming his face up close.

For the twelfth time in the last half hour, does Barty lean down and capture Sirius’ lips in his. He’s holding her face with both of his hands and pressing them against the wall.

It’s a very intense kissing scene and is taking way too long and too many takes, if you ask Remus.

“Cut!” Barty immediately takes a step back and Sirius drives her delicate fingers through her hair. A bright smile takes over her face, which releases a warm feeling in Remus’ chest. “Ok, we have it.” Their director says and the staff starts cleaning the scene.

Sirius is still talking to Barty, so Lily focus the video back on Remus. “How do you feel?”

“Much better now, knowing that this terrible scene is over. And I don’t have to watch Barty kissing my girl.” He grins at the camera and Lily can’t suspend her giggles. “And why is that?”

“Because this mother-“ he just mouths ”f_cker”before he speaks loudly again, “has a crush on Sirius and isn’t even a little subtle about it.”

It bothers Remus a lot, how open and vocal this idiot is about, being in love with Remus’ girlfriend. Lily just chuckles again and zooms into the conversation Sirius is having with Barty.

They’re shouting a series and at the moment, Barty is playing the boyfriend of Sirius’ character, but not for long. They already filmed the break up scene between the characters.

Right now though, has Sirius dressed in the short pink pyjama pants and a white crop shirt. In short, she looks absolutely stunning and Remus would love to ruin her hair, but it were Barty’s hands, that made them this dishevelled.

And the worst part is, that Remus can’t even be mad at Barty, because of course everyone has a crush on Sirius. Everyone here knows how attractive and pretty she is, everyone on set sees what a talented and stunning actress she is and everyone observe, how kind and selfless she is.

Remus can live with that, the whole fucking world loves her, but Barty? He could at least have the respect and not officially tell people how in love he is with them. It wouldn’t bother Remus so much, if he wouldn’t post and talk about her so often.

Finally, Sirius is coming over to Remus and sitting down on his lap. “Hey, my love.” She greets him and gives him a long kiss.

Remus is a simple man, of course he relaxes into her and wraps his arms around hers waist to keep her close. He forgets Barty, the second her tongue meets his.

A cough gets Sirius’ attention and she looks over at Lily, who holds the rolling camera in their faces. “Hi, Lils.” And Remus is not only a simple man, but also pathetic. He forgot about Lily, the camera and his matcha and only remembers those things, when Sirius leaves his lap.

[nisuna]

hi hello long time no see for those interested I've been going through a hard time after getting fired and finding my place at my new job, but because I'm in a better place mentally again I'm back hehe

I'm sorry that my comeback isn't jjk related, as that is my target audience, but I have been playing love and deepspace ever since Sylus joined and I have been hooked ever since 🤧

I was very hesitant about writing this and even considered writing smth ambiguous to suit my theme so far, but ultimately decided to make it character specific. this man really has a chokehold on me, especially his jp voice. anyway, enough yapping hopefully I will be back with some jjk content as well, in any case, hope you still enjoy ^^

Thank you for all of the support even while I was gone<3

×This takes place after the boxing match from the Radiant Brilliance memory; I saw some fan art and couldn't stop thinking about it so here we are >><<

TW: unprotected sex, creampie, finger fucking, making out, kitten sweetie sweetheart, a lot of teasing but also soft, voyeurism, dom-sub dynamics, tit and ass fondling, lord give me strength this man will be the end of me oml; ~1.8k words

♡masterlist♡

-------------------strictly 18+; MDNI-------------------

"Did you just kiss my head?"

"What about it?", he smirked.

"I'd rather you to kiss something else instead."

"All in due time, kitten. Once everyone leaves, no place will be left untouched.", he whispered pulling you into a hug.

"Promise?"

"Promise."

-

It didn't take long for him to fulfil his promise. However you did not expect to be bent into such a compromising position in the process. One thigh in his hand, while your ass was being pushed into his hard crotch.

"Wait, if you lift it up like that I'm gonna fall!", you yelped expecting a fall that never happened.

Laying his large palm flat on your exposed tummy he spoke, "No you wont, I got you."

"I always got you, you can lean on me.", he continued as he bit along your delicate skin, tightening his grip on your thigh and waist in the process.

You were about to melt at the softness and genuity of his voice, a stark contrast to his rough hands holding you in place.

"Still, this position is a bit...", you trailed off.

"A bit what?", he groaned starting to grind his hips into the plush of your ass.

"Embarassing. I feel exposed... and what if someone walks in." you shook.

"You dont have to worry about any of that." , he spoke softly, nuzzling his nose in the crook of your neck.

"Okay...", you gulped. "Slowly, this feels weird."

"Mhm", he set your leg back down for now and continued. "Arch your back a bit more. Yeah thats it, kitten. The ropes are strong enough to hold you."

His hands were sliding all over your body before he finally decided to flip your skirt over your hips, making it bunch up at your waist and exposing your red lace panties, matching his outfit.

"Oho? Did you wear this pair on purpose? Were you expecting something like this to happen? Or maybe you did want me to fuck you in front of everyone hm?"

You felt embarrassed as the cool air hit your exposed flesh and the way his fingers were pulling at the hem of your panties, while admiring your ridiculous proportions in this position. Your waist and ass were accentuated heavenly, making him lick his lips. When he pulled and let the pretty snap back against your hip you gasped as a firm slap of his palm followed making the flesh jiggle. You arched your back impossibly more in anticipation of what's to come. (both of you hopefully)

He continued his teasing ministrations by unbuttoning your blouse and pulling the thin lace of your matching bra down your tits, making them spill over oh so deliciously.

As soon as he grabbed a handful of both of your tits you started to push back against his aching cock. You both groaned, needing more friction.

"Can't wait anymore, kitten? You even filmed my cock earlier, how dirty. Did you want to suck me off in front of everyone right then and there?", his hot breath hit the back of your neck making the hairs stand up as he continued to fondle your tit while leaving hickeys along your neck.

"Ngh stop teasing...give it to me already!", you moaned, pushing your ass against his firm cock impossibly more, as you clung onto the ropes of the ring in front of you.

"How impatient tsk tsk, he clicked and bit down on your shoulder, getting a yelp out of your quivering mouth. Pulling your back flush against his toned chest he continued, "But I'll gladly comply. I can hardly wait myself, a certain someone's got me all riled up."

"Wanna try the position from earlier?", he teased.

You didn't want to admit it, but him flaunting his strength by almost lifting you up with such ease made your cunt drip. So you just coyly shook your yead yes without looking at him, the tips of your ears burning red.

"Atta girl."

In one smooth motion our leg was lifted back up by one of his huge palms. His long fingers starting to leave marks already.

Pushing his shorts down and your panties to the side he wasted no time filling you to the hilt.

The sudden intrusion made you scream. Your voice echoing off of the walls of the empty stadium made you slap your palm over your mouth in a futile attempt to muffle the sound.

"Why are you trying to keep quiet? Afraid someone will hear you? We're all alone, but how would you feel if someone walked in on me claiming you like that, hm?", he teased.

"You'd like that, huh? I can feel you tightening around me, you like being watched."

You groaned in protest shaking your head as he started pulling out and bullying his thick cock back into your gummy walls.

"Noooo!", you whined head tipping forward at the sound your pussy was making.

"Fuck, look at you. I didnt know you could get any wetter", he mumbled licking a thick stripe up your neck and settling on nibbling on the shell of your ear.

You could feel your juices starting to drip down your leg as he continued his mean thrusts. Your head was starting to spin from the impact. All the talking was making you dizzy. You wanted to ground yourself so you spoke.

"I want to kiss you, please."

His hungry eyes settled on you as he grabbed your jaw twisting, yoyr face back so he could devour you with his mouth as well. The kiss was messy and wet, your tiny mewls interrupting it ever so slightly.

When he felt your walls clamping down on him he set down your leg and started to massage your clit the pads of his fingers. "I want you to cum on my cock, sweatheart. You can do that for me right?"

You violently shook your head yes. "Wanna cum~ Please make me cum~"

A few more thrusts and strokes along your clit was all it took for you to let go. All shame was thrown out the window as you moaned to your heart's content without worrying about someone hearing you.

"Good girl. Now, let me fill you up in return."

And filling you up he did. His hips came to a halt, but your greedy cunt wanted more.

He started to whince as you started fucking yourself on his cock, while he continued to abuse your sensitive clit. With the feeling of his thick cum deep inside of you and with the help of his skilled fingers you could feel yourself tipping over the edge for the second time tonight. It didn't take long before your hips came to a halt as you desperately gasped for air. All the while he was kissing along your skin, praising you and trying his best to calm you down.

When he finally pulled out you, you felt weak but his strong arms kept you from falling. His cum was starting do drip down your shaky legs as you shivered from the aftermath.

After a moment of silence he was the first to speak up. "Just so you know, I would never let anyone but me see you like this. Though I'm open to your input on the matter." you could hear the smirk in his tone.

Turning your head in his direction with a frown you spat, "Don't even joke like that ah-" You let your head fall forward as two thick fingers entered you again.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"We can't let anything go to waste. You're dripping all over the mat. So I have to plug you back up." he smiled.

"And whose fault is that??", you whined.

"Mine entirely, of course." he chuckled.

"That's right. Besides, I do not like being watched. Speak for yourself mr. nh-"

"Oho?", he mused beginng to finger fuck his cum back inside of you. "She's telling me a different story though. You were gaping just a moment ago and now you tightened back up already after the mention of being watched. My kitten's lying, but her body is very honest..

"Stop teasing! And I'm not lying." you protested, legs starting to tremble as you tried your best to hold onto the shaky rope in front of you.

"You're not? Look me in the eyes and say that again."

Reluctant to face him he pulled out his fingers and spun you around himself. When he stuffed his fingers back in, you groaned against his chest clawing at the fabric of his top.

You eventually leaned your back against the ropes and pouted, eyes teary.

"Hm?", he lifted his eyebrow expectedly.

"Screw you!", you spat before pulling him into a needy kiss. All the while he pulled his fingers out of you and gripped a handfull of your ass.

"So feisty. In that case, I guess I'll have to screw you open more thoroughly later." he spoke after pulling away and planting a kiss onto your shoulder.

"Later?", you groaned tilting your head to give him more access to your neck.

"Of course", he hummed. "This was just the appetiser. I hope you're ready for the main event. I've got a lot more to show you, sweetie."

"Ditto, I have a reward for your win as well."

"Nothing you do could ever reward me more, than me making you feel good."

"Hmpf, we'll see about that, big boy."

"Do your worst then.", he flashed you a toothy grin.

---

~pt 2 coming soon ^^~

hope you enjoyed! this was my first time writing for him so please lmk your thoughts

MWAH and until next time<3

[majesty0h]

~Sharing is CARING. And Toji Cares About You Very Much~ imagine this is them ok

You and Toji have a great sex life. Scratch that, you have an AMAZING sex life. His stamina is stupid, he's packing bigger than you've ever encountered...he's a FREAK. A hulking, muscled freak who's down for anything and has showed your usually prude ass things you've never even dreamed of. Bondage, wearing vibrators in public, petplay, breathplay, temperature play, hell one time he ate your ass on the balcony while he was dressed as Wolverine. You had no clue where he got all of these ideas, but you certainly weren't complaining.

The current "thing" was watching porn on your VR headset while he went down on you. He'd been shocked to hear that you didn't consume it regularly, I mean, he was beating off to BBW on the Hub every chance he got. He was determined to force you outside your comfort zone.

It started slow, vanilla. Standard B/G, anal. Then it evolved to breeding, cucking, double penetration...

That's when he noticed it.

You took forever, FOREVER to cum on his mouth (to his annoyance) when you were watching dirty movies. But when you stumbled upon a woman getting plowed by her husband and his best friend...you were quick. Too quick. The way you moaned and gripped his hair, pulling him in deeper, it caused his tongue to stop flickering for a moment.

"Hm? What the fuck's gotten you so riled up, ma?"

You instantly freeze and pause the video, cheeks burning red behind that stupid headset, feeling dirty, feeling bad. It was bad this was so hot, right? "Uh, nothing. Just usual stuff," you lied.

You're a terrible liar.

You feel and hear the bed creak as he shifts up and snatches the device off you, raising it up and peering. He's wearing just grey sweatpants, that were tenting the minute he realized what was up. A shit eating grin spread across his face. "Oh fuck. That's what you're into now?"

You groan and throw a pillow at him. "Shu up! I've just never seen it before. You ruined the mood."

Your boyfriend is snickering at your discomfort. "Uh huh. Get on all fours. I wanna see who fucks her better."

You push this morning's events out of your head as you go to work. And it's definitely not when you return home ten hours later, tired, annoyed, and frustrated.

"Hey babes. Welcome home!" Toji, your beautiful trophy boy calls from the living room. "How was work?"

Sighing you kick off your heels and scan your phone. "It was rough. This merger is insane. We have 5 million dollars riding on this and everyone wants to dick around. I thought being Vice President was worth the drama, but it's seriously getting to me," you vent as you scroll through dozens of confidential, high priority emails.

Maybe that's why you loved Toji so much. Whenver you're with him, you don't think about deadlines, trades, layoffs. Just feeling good, happy, and full.

Walking into the living room, you're so engrossed you don't even register there's someone else sitting on the couch with Fushiguro. You only look up in confusion when the stranger whistles, low and deep. It's almost like a purr. "Damn Toji, you weren't lyin'. Complete smokeshow."

Your eyes widen and your head snaps up. There he is, manspreading on your very expensive couch, sleek black boots pressed against your /very/ expensive white rug. He's tall, lanky, built like a beanpole. He's got a shock of white hair, and he's wearing small, circle shaped sunglasses, but the shine of dazzling blue eyes peek through anyways.

Toji's looking at you like it's Christmas morning, his gaze darting between the other man and his jaded wifey. He seems to drink in your confusion.

"Oh...I...I didn't know you had a friend over," you say after an awkward pause. You're trying to address your man, but you can't tear your eyes away from this twink. Who is he? "Hi?"

The stranger beams, shifting to a more professional posture. God he is tall. You feel so small under his gaze, and you glance to Toji for help, understanding. He offers none. "Hey, pretty lady. My name is Jerome. Jerome Washington. The building's maintenance man. I heard..." he leans slightly closer to you, sliding his shades just down an inch. "You need your pipes cleaned."

You blink. "No? The pipes are fine?"

Toji groans in disproval and shoves "Jerome" slightly. "Dude, I told you, you don't gotta do any of that shit. Just be normal, for fuck's sake."

The stranger, who was doing his best to seem mysterious and commanding, broke into a boyish smile. "Oh yeah my bad. Sup? I'm Satoru Gojo. I'm going to fuck the shit out of you tonight!"

"We," Toji corrected, but he's got that same expression.

Have you gone crazy? Has the stress finally made you crack? Are you hallucinating? This was a fever dream. Toji had a knack for wanting to snap the neck of any man who even looked at you...so why was he sitting here, giddy, as this "Satoru" addressed you so vulgar? So hungry?

"...huh?" is the only thing you can say, darting between the pair. You're more than a yard away, but you can practically smell the lust filling the room. "Toji...what is--"

"Remember earlier today?" he interrupts, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "When you were creamin' over that video? The Eiffel Tower?"

"Toji!!"you hiss, flustered he would bring this up in front of a guest.

He cocks his head, throwing Gojo a knowing smirk. "She's all shy. Isn't that cute? But I promise, she was feening."

Satoru licks his lips, still undressing you with his eyes. "I bet. To be honest I haven't either. But I'm not stupid enough to turn it down."

Toji snorts. "Yeah? Don't worry, I'll show your prudes how it's done." He snaps his fingers at you. "C'mere doll. C'mere and kneel."

You're glued to the same spot, trying to reconcile what's happening. You watch as Satoru pats his knee, promising not to bite, unless you're into that.

"Princess,"Toji repeats again, his tone firm and commanding enough to snap you back to reality. You know that voice. It's the "you listen or you're in a lot of trouble" voice.

Sheepishly, you stare at your feet as you shuffle forward. You can't ignore how your heart beats in your chest, how your dress feels too tight, how this is the hottest fucking thing you've ever experienced.

"Kneel."

You don't defy him. You look up at them both with doey eyes, shuddering when he grips your chin, stroking your cheek with the pad of his calloused thumb. Gojo hums and repeats the same motion on the other side. His touch is soft and warm, and you can't help the soft sigh that escapes you. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing warmth. Your boyfriend presses your foreheads together, his voice syrupy against your ear. "I love you so much, doll. I'd do anything to make you happy. If this doesn't show it, nothing else will. Now you just relax and I'm gonna make your fantasies all come true," he promise as he nips at your neck. "Now start making our friend feel at home."

You swallowed hard. You feel like you could faint. You want to reply "yes daddy" like the good girl you are, but words fail you. All you can do is nod.

You take a deep breath and scoot over, still on your knees, but nestled between Gojo's skinny legs. He smiles down at you innocently, but the contents of his words are far from it. "You have such pretty lips, sweetie. How about you open them for me?"

You glance at Toji for reassurance, but he's gone from the couch, crouching behind you, fingers weaving into your hair, massaging your scalp. "Go on."

Your hands tremble as you reach for Gojo's belt.

((haven't written anything like this in years LOL im so rusty. stay tuned for part 2 and feel free to share ;D ))