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how-masterful · 3 years ago

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To Have Your Cake (And Eat It Too)

Dhawan!master x Reader

Summary: The Master has gotten himself tied up. On your birthday of all days. Stuck in a straightjacket and with no idea how long its going to last, you decide to treat your Time lord with a share of your sweet and sinful birthday desires

Notes: for the second year in a row, this is the official how masterful birthday fic™ for her absolutely beloved @plethora-of-imagines . happy birthday, my love! I hope through all the chaos of losing the first draft, flaky internet connections, and a crippling desire for this fic to work out, you hopefully enjoy your birthday gift! 🥳❤💫

this fic was partly inspired by this piece of artwork by @/thoscheii

The Master tugged angrily on his arms, for the fifth time that minute. He grit his teeth together, yanking his shoulders downwards.

It was a fruitless effort.

The straight jacket still refused to budge.

“I’ve tried everything, Master. You really are stuck in there until those time locks fall off.”

He tugged once more, before sighing and sinking back into his chair.

“Great. Absolutely magnificent.”

It was a stupid idea. You’d told him as such. The planet of the bachelors, solo men that thrived on their isolation from women. Females within the species simply didn't exist. The Master had seemingly decided the best idea in the universe, something he’d say about every new plan, would be to try and blend in in order to steal some exciting world destroying weapons (and obviously refuse to tell you about the details). It would be an absolute piece of cake, he’d decreed as soon as he’d planned it- sneak in, steal the plans, sneak out. It would only take fifteen minutes or so. That was 7 hours ago.

However, in his pride and… underestimation of the species’ intelligence, he’d made a single, glaring oversight.

He hadn't taken the bloody wedding ring off of his finger.

“Have you really tried everything?”

You turned from your position leant against the console, sending him an offended expression. The Tardis hummed and whirred in your defence.

“Yes! Every single idea you gave me!”

“Are you sure?”

You widened your eyes in an expression that hopefully conveyed to him it wouldn't be wise to ask again. The Tardis beeped rapidly, hoping to dissolve the tension. Still leaning against the console you folded your arms, looking down at your husband.

“Yes, Master. I promise. I really think you’re just gonna have to wait this one out.”

The Master let out a loud and rather obnoxious groan. He let his head fall back, scrunching up his face in a look of pure annoyance. But even that expression of disappointment, and most likely rage, couldn't be fully executed. The thick red collar that sat around his neck propped up his head like a neck brace.

To his credit, taking off his ring wasn't something he had to do often. Since the day he’d put it on for the first time it never seemingly came off. That was part of his overt sentimentality that you secretly adored. Plus, it hadn’t caused any problems for the pair of you. The ring, a golden band engraved with endless circular Gallifreyan, sat snugly on his finger and often shone, even in low light. It acted as a symbol, a sign to other creatures great and small that he was indeed a taken Time Lord. It matched your own, your wedding band sharing the same design that comfortably nested itself upon your own hand. Of course, yours had to share a finger with the engagement ring- a white point star, shrunken perfectly to sit and shimmer in a band forged from the oldest nugget of gold in the universe.

You looked down at the ring, smiling fondly at the glimmering star that sat on your finger. It shifted and refracted at even the smallest of movements, even in the low light of the Tardis. From there you looked up to see the Master still trying to flop back his head, grumbling and muttering something most likely threatening to himself. You tilted your head, watching him struggle, before carefully making your way over to sit yourself down in his lap. Taking his face in your hands you carefully brushed over his cheeks with your thumbs, the anger and rage that simmered in his expression slowly melting away as he stared up at you with a rare, rather defeated expression.

It wasn't often that the Master was the one in need of saving. At least in the typical, damsel in distress sort of way. It was no secret that the Master had a history of getting in over his head, especially when it came to the Doctor and their centuries long rivalry- from the Autons all the way to the Kasaavin, the Master would sometimes need that extra helping hand. But with you, he was always so proudly in command. The Master of the situation, one could say. With you he would stride in, proudly taking control over every situation: if you were in danger he’d burst in burning with unstoppable rage, guns blazing- more likely TCE blazing, and would happily destroy anything and anyone that was in the path between you and him. Only now it was him that required the whole rescuing thing.

Seeing him like this, bound in a jacket with timed locks that simply refused to budge, almost made him look humbled. But of course he wouldn't let something so small destroy his persistent (And slightly enjoyable) egomania.

“It suits you, y’know.”

The Master rolled his eyes.

“Is that your way of making me feel better?”

“I’m serious. I never thought I'd say it, but you suit a collar and straight jacket.”

The Master bit back a laugh, sending you an incredulous expression.

“Really? Is that so? Because I feel like a knock off Houdini. Even I don't deserve that.”

You pouted dramatically, sticking out your bottom lip. Your hand reached up to ruffle his already messy hair, earning an even angrier scowl.

“You’re enjoying yourself far too much. Just you wait until I get out of here.”

“Aw, is the big bad Master angry he's got his collar on and matches his wife?”

The Master gave a reluctant laugh, narrowing his eyes like a cat. You tickled under his chin with your fingers, enjoying watching him attempt to squirm away. You could tell he was trying so hard to seem offended, but the way he subtly titled his head to grant you more access to the strip of skin under his chin made you believe otherwise.

It was also undeniable that the thick red collar that sat around his neck matched your own. It seemed, to the Master, that his collaring of you was a pre marriage arrangement. Your own was a rich, purple leather that curved around your throat, lined with golden velvet that sat flush against your skin. Golden hardware, buckles and rings decorated the piece, making the thing look incredibly lavish and expensive- and judging by the Masters taste, it probably was.

“Don't patronise me, love.”

The Master was scowling again. It looked rather cute. You placed a quick peck to the top of his forehead, watching him scowl in return.

“I can't help it Master, you look like a kicked puppy. All grumpy and angry. You know Its your own fault you got into this mess.”

The Master opened his mouth, ready to argue to the ends of the earth as to how he wasn't responsible for the consequences of his own actions. This argument was neither new, nor something you wanted to get into again.

Suddenly, you had a thought. It was a naughty thought, rather nefarious.

Though not deadly, the thought was slightly dangerous. If only for what the Master might do when he finally got free. Yes, this was an ample opportunity for you to follow through, and use the new situation to your advantage. He’d be so proud, you thought, if it wasn't him in said situation.

You pushed your finger against the Master's lips, catching the Time Lord slightly off guard. Once again, his eyes narrowed.

“Move. Your. Finger.”

“I’m pretty sure this is the universal symbol of shut up and listen, Master.”

The Time Lord pressed his lips into a thin line, glaring absolute daggers in your direction. Slowly you pulled your finger away from his lips, moving your face so close your noses almost touched.

“Fine, I'm listening.”

“Of all the days, Master. You had to choose today. Lucky for you, the Tardis thinks there's not much time left on those time locks. Lucky for me, it gives me just enough time to have some fun with you.”

If the Master's eyes were narrow before, now they were creeping wide. You could see the calculations his brain was performing behind his eyes, all the thoughts and possibilities swirling around in his head like brain soup. Rarely was the Master ever in a situation where somebody intended to have fun with HIM. Usually it was the other way around. This was a new sensation, a feeling of which the Master in all his years of existence had yet to fully comprehend.

Was this… what nervousness felt like?

It wasn't long until he was about to find out.

In all his time, cataloguing his thoughts and trying to figure out what you could possibly mean, the Master failed to notice you slipping from his lap and heading off towards the kitchen. With a skip in your step, you quickly made your way towards the piece of delicious, freshly baked cake that sat under the crystal glass dome on the counter top- grabbing a fork on your journey back as you circled, returning to the door from which you came.

Quickly scarpering back to the console room, you could see the Master still thinking, his eyebrows furrowed as he tugged at the jacket once more. He really did look like a curious cat, sneering at the problem at hand while also being absolutely fascinated. You carefully made your way towards the Time Lord, letting out a small cough to break him from his focus. Suddenly, his head snapped up towards you, his mess of hair flying backwards as he looked from your smug expression to the plate in your hand, before turning back to your face with a knowing look.

The large triangle of birthday cake, decorated in thick frosting and rainbow sprinkles, sat upon the fine china plate.

“What are you up to now?”

“You decided to get yourself tied up on my birthday. You’re going to enjoy this slice of cake with me even if I have to feed you it by hand. Now open.”

The Master watched intently as you held the fork to his lips, sending you an unimpressed expression.

“There's nothing on it.” he deadpanned.

“I know that,” you sighed. “Hold it for me while I get myself comfortable.”

The Master rolled his eyes, before opening his lips and taking the fork between his teeth. He looked like those flamenco dancers that would brandish a rose in their mouth while dancing, only slightly less flamboyant. Though the Master definitely was no stranger to flamboyance, if his past regenerations and even more recent plans were anything to go off.

“What on earth are you planning?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, watching you precariously place the plate upon his thigh. His eyes watched with absolute wonder as he saw what you were doing.

Carefully, in front of the Time Lord, you began to tug at the hem of your underwear from beneath the already rather short dressing gown- the pile of clothes you’d rescued him in already sat in a pile in the corner of the room. You slowly shimmied your panties down your legs, his eyes never leaving your body as you purposely drew out your movements. You could tell the Master was fascinated, the way his chest had begun to rise and fall slightly faster than usual. Methodically you teased him, slipping the underwear from your legs and throwing them on to the pile. Your hands then slowly wandered to the Master's knees, the Time Lord taking in a deep breath as you fiddled with the zipper of his trousers, pulling it down to expose his underwear. You took hold of the plate on his thigh before it toppled, using your other hand to pull down the waistband of the Masters underwear, carefully freeing the Masters hardening cock. You could hear him let out a low, guttural groan behind the fork.

Without breaking his gaze you straddled over his thighs, pushing your body against his own as you sank yourself down to sit on his now firm cock. You gasped softly as you felt him inside you, the Masters left eye practically twitching as he bit down on the fork in his mouth. You rocked backwards and forwards a couple times, settling yourself down in his lap, before you brought the plate to sit between your chest and his own. Soon after, you finally reached to pull the fork from between his teeth. The Master was staring at you, wordlessly, lightly panting for breath as you smiled oh so innocently.

“There,” you teased. “Much comfier.”

The Master was working his way towards catching his breath.

“You know… if you were anybody else… I'd kill you for this.”

You laughed lightly, measuring out the size of the first bite with the prongs of the fork.

“Good. Because if anybody else did this to you, I'd kill them as well. You’re my husband after all.”

“You’re getting far too cheeky, love. I think you need reminding who's in charge here.”

You leant forwards in the Masters lap, purposely shifting your hips. You couldn't help but smile at the involuntary gasp he gave.

“What are you going to do, Master? Spank me? With what hands?”

The Master met your gaze, matching your expression. Your faces were mere inches away from each others, your eyes daring each other to make the next move.

“You’re in so much trouble after this.”

“You can't punish the birthday girl, Master. That's just plain old rude.”

The Master chuckled fondly.

“Forgive me for misplacing my manners, dearest. I must’ve left them with my hands.”

“Apology accepted.”

You nipped at the end of his nose with your teeth, before giggling cheekily and leaning in for a kiss. The Master, in all his superiority and domination, couldn't help but kiss back. He always failed to stay fully angry at you. Your noses brushed together as you stole a kiss from each other's mouths, the pair of you dissolving into quiet laughter once you parted.

“Let me have this moment, Master. Please.”

The Master pondered for a moment, tilting his head dramatically to the side and watching your hopeful expression blossom onto your face. He huffed out a sigh, looking up at you with another defeated expression. Only this one was full of genuine fondness.

“Fine.” he sighed finally. “Because it's your birthday.”

Your smile was absolutely beaming. You pulled the end chunk of cake onto the fork, holding it up to the Masters mouth. The frosting was almost dripping back onto the plate from the fluffy, bite sized piece. He parted his lips, waiting for you to place the cake into his mouth.

“Say please, Master.”

“Don't push it, Y/n.”

You simply shrugged in return, before placing the cake into the Master's mouth. As he chewed you gently began to circle your hips, lightly moving atop his cock, generating a small amount of friction. The Master gave a quiet moan, letting his eyes flutter shut as the cake melted on his tongue. He licked at his lips, catching the small trail of frosting and sprinkles that had remained on his lips.

“How is it?” you purred softly.

The Master smacked his lips together, before giving a lazy smile.

“I’m enjoying myself more than I anticipated.”

“Poor Master, did you think I was going to torture you?”

The Master chuckled as you offered him another piece of cake, parting his lips and watching you intently as you teasingly pulled the fork slowly from his mouth. You continued to twist and circle your hips, the Master's eyes watching you almost hypnotically. You could feel a hot flush begin to creep up your face, the apples of your cheeks blushing a sweet red as your shoulders began to relax. The Master smirked, watching you break off another chunk of the sprinkle covered cake. Only this time you placed it into your own mouth.

You could see why the Master reacted so positively. The flavours swirled and collided in your mouth, your taste buds exploding with sensory pleasure. Your hips swivelled and rocked, much like clockwork, as you rolled your head over your shoulders and gave a deep moan of pleasure.

“Shit, that's a good cake.” you admitted, fluttering open your eyes. The Master was licking his lips, hands lightly tugging on the straightjacket as you licked the frosting from your teeth.

“It's almost as nice as our first wedding cake.”

“Go on, take another bite.”

Weakly, you nodded, breaking off another chunk with the fork and placing it on your tongue. The ‘yes Master’ you gave was almost a whisper.

You did the same for your husband, feeding him another chunk of the cake while continuously building a rhythm of motion atop his cock. The Master was groaning, harder than before, a light sweat beginning to form on his brow. He couldn't help but notice how much closer you’d pressed yourself to his torso, the cake almost sliding from the plate that was now practically diagonal against your chest.

“Y’know, it's not the first time I've worn something like this.” the Master admitted between mouthfuls.

“Seriously?” your voice was almost lost behind a moan.

“White straightjacket, red collar, I think they- fuck- chose something from my personal history to cage me in.”

The Master was now beginning to thrust his hips up against yours, jostling your rhythm and causing you to give a shocked gasp of pleasure. The plate almost fell from your chest, barely being caught by your spare hand and the edge of the fork.

“Master, yes-”

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the guttural moan you wanted to give. The sweetness of the cake mixed with the burning deep in your belly was causing your senses to go into overdrive. The Master was methodical, thrusting up as best he could with the top of his body tied in place. His movements were sending chills shooting up your spine, knowing exactly how to make you gasp for breath and beg for more. He always knew exactly what you desired, his body and mind instinctively understanding every primal desire you had. Maybe you were just obvious. Or perhaps he was more sentimental than he let on.

Soon the once imposing slice of cake was nothing more than a single section. Crumbs and sprinkles poked from the corners of your mouth and onto your lips, the Master's teeth gnashing upwards in a bid to lick them away. Your speed and ferocity had increased to the point where you needed to stabilize yourself atop the Masters thrusting cock. Both of you had begun to sweat. Something needed to give.

“Master, I need, fuck-”

“I swear to god, let me taste you.”

The Master was panting like an animal.

“The plate-”

“Fuck the plate. I’ll buy you as many as you want. Come here, do as you’re told.”

You gave an inhumane snarl as the fork clattered to the floor, your fingers grasping hold of the last square of cake. Frosting oozed down your fingers as you relented your grip on the plate, the small black plate crashing down onto the hard wood and shattering into thousands of shards. The Master opened wide as you bucked your hips, your fingers pushing the cake firmly against his mouth. Sprinkles and crumbs smeared over the Masters lips as you abandoned all inhibition, your own mouth diving in to follow as your lips crashed together in an animalistic kiss. Teeth and tongues slashed and battled for control as the sweet concoction oozed down your throats, the taste of the frosting melting into the taste of each others mouths.

Crumbs and sticky decoration stained the clean white straightjacket as your fingers clasped hold of the Masters shoulders, your forehead pushing against his as he snarled into the kiss. Your hips thrusted furiously against his own, the pair of you rising and falling against the back of the chair as you begged for friction and every sensation you were willing to share. Your fingers fisted into the back of the Master's hair, the other hand stroking down his back and running over the intricate set of time locks that connected the jacket together in an intricate lattice of latches. You tugged on them as you went, growing deeper into the kiss as you bounced yourself up and down in the Masters lap.

You could feel yourself getting close to the precipice of satisfaction, the Master's teeth nipping at your bottom lip as his tongue licked over the mess. Your noses pushed together as you hissed in delight, your body clamouring for release as you whined pathetically in his ear.

“Master, so close” you begged, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth.

The Master snapped his teeth together, pushing his forehead against his own.

“Don't you dare cum” he barked, groaning as you licked down the side of his face.

“Please, please I can't-”

“Listen to your Master” he growled in your ear. As if that would do anything but make it worse.

The Master continued to thrust and groan, his face flush almost as red as his collar as he edged you closer and closer to release. You struggled to even control your mouth, groans and cries of pleasure escaping your throat as you completely fell apart in the Masters lap. Everything was building up inside of you, your body absolutely ready to feel the warm wave of release course through your very being. All you were waiting on was the Masters word.

And then it finally arrived.

“Cum”

You felt your whole body ricochet from the sudden release of pressure. Your scream was painfully desperate as you felt yourself fold into nothingness in the Masters lap. You gave in completely, the warmth spreading through your entire body as you climaxed hard and fast upon the Masters still hard cock. Tears were mixing with the streaming sweat as you slumped forward against the Master's chest, the Time Lord chuckling as your exhausted eyes fluttered shut on impact. You were about to sleepily flirt, much like usual, sweetening the already malleable Master with your flattering words and praises, when a loud bang sent your eyes flying wide open.

One by one, the time locks that ran up the Masters spine unclasped and plummeted down to the floor, collecting in a heap as they slid through the back of the chair. You picked your head up to look at the Master, sweat dripping from his brow and sprinkles caught in his stubble, watching as the Time Lords face slowly began to spread into a dangerous grin. You felt a chill go down your spine as he slowly began to unfold his arms, forcing you to sit up in his lap, supporting yourself by pushing down on his thighs.

“Well then”

The Master purred, pulling his arms free from their clasps. His fingers wriggled within the triangle shaped tip of the sleeve, his hands reaching up to slickly unclasp the thick red collar from around his neck. It fell to the floor, joining the locks, fork, and what was left of the plate. He looked down at you with a typical, Masterful, Cheshire cat grin.

“Would you look at that?”

Instinctively you gulped, looking up at the Master as he lifted your chin with his cloth covered fingers.

“Now I don't know about you, love, but I've noticed you’ve been getting a little bit too cheeky for my liking.”

At best, you sent him a weak smile. You knew what was about to happen.

“And I have hands now. Lucky, lucky you.”

“I'm guessing you’re going to punish me now, aren't you Master?”

The Master shushed you, tutting as he shook his head. He still clasped your chin in his hand.

“You said it yourself, dear. I can't punish the birthday girl. But I can encourage her to help me get the release I so lovingly provided for her. It's only fair, after all. If there happens to be a lesson or two learned in the process? Call that an added bonus.”

You chuckled weakly as the Master guided you to stand, supporting your still twitching hips as you sent him a wry smile.

“Y’know Master, there's a phrase we have on earth. You can't have your cake and eat it too.”

The Master tilted his head, his mouth making a small ‘o’ shape as he crooked an eyebrow. It soon melted away into a gentle smile, his fingers tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Oh, my love.” he grinned, a chuckle building in his throat as he pecked the top of your forehead.

“I just did.”

All of a sudden you felt yourself being lifted into the air, the impact of the Masters shoulder against your stomach knocking the wind out of your system. He barked out a proud laugh as he raised a hand to spank your already reddened ass, his teeth nipping at the soft flesh of your hip as you gave a surprised yelp.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he cried, laughing as he carried you towards the bedroom, where god knows what painful pleasure awaited you.

“I hope the birthday girl has room for seconds!”

#doctor who #sacha dhawan #the master #bbc doctor who #dhawan!master #bbc #sacha!master #spymaster #doctor who season twelve #dhawan!master / reader #dhawan!master x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #master x you #the master x you #the master x reader #reader #reader insert

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rontra · 3 years ago

Note

Oop I recently went through your whole art tag and queued a bunch of art reblogs (both new and old) so that may be my fault at least in part, if you genuinely want me to I can go through and delete them? /gen

Oh! I would appreciate it, yes.

I decided to try and explain my feelings a little more concretely, but I'll put in a readmore because <-wordy

I can't say for certain that it's yours specifically, but it does feel as though there's one or two blogs queue-posting in rough order my entire 2016 library--and then followers of theirs reblog them again and now my entire notes panel is full of 5+ year old art...

I know you (and everyone else who's reblogging them) don't have bad intentions. The function of reblogging art is overall a pretty positive interaction. I am grateful that you like my art and want to show it to your followers, and I don't mean to sound like I'm not... It just gets difficult for me to deal with when it continues deep into super old stuff. It's stressful in a way that's a little hard to verbalize so I usually don't really try aside from going "hey please don't" when there's a noticeable surge

I can't exactly gamble on everyone paying attention to my newest "hey please don't" posts when they're back in the archives reblogging 2016 posts though, so it's hard to do anything besides like, idk, blocking the core blogs involved and hoping for the best??? (lol)

idk, it feels unnecessary to me, and they're not all posts I like to see activity on because they're so old. As an artist, they don't really reflect my skill, style, or "brand" anymore...? And they haven't for a Long Time. On top of that, a lot of them are inside jokes from people and groups I knew 5 years ago and they have very little "mass appeal" (for lack of a better term), so I don't really understand it when those get notes. All in all it's a little bit...weird and disheartening to have a big surge like this lasting for days and weeks, where half-a-decade-old posts consistently fill my entire notes panel, when I'm still here posting new stuff...

I don't want to delete the original posts because of sentimental reasons (my blog is a very lengthy archive of personal art development that I like to look at myself!), and I think it's nice if people remember and think fondly about the posts--or even dig them up to look at them--but I do habitually un-tag and bury them to make them harder for other (new) people to find and reblog. It's clear now that I did not do a good enough job of that, and I've done another wide sweep to remove franchise and character tags from a large amount of posts.

I would be very relieved if you took old (say roughly pre-2018) stuff out of your queue. I have plenty of more recent art to look at and reblog ;_;

Thanks for the message. Sorry this reply is pretty wordy, I just wanted to try and explain my feelings a bit (and I'm bad at being concise UHDSFDKJG)

I'm not mad or anything, it's just a bit...mm.

As I said, I know there's no ill intent, and I am glad you enjoy my work...but I would prefer that the rickety old posts be left to sleep where they lay u_u

#:pensive:

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bluerose5 · 3 years ago

Text

Conflicted

Rating: M (More as a Precaution)

Relationship: Scott Ryder/Jaal Ama Darav, Rydaal

Tags: Mass Effect: Andromeda, Pre-Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff, Awkward Encounters, Post-Hunting the Archon, Non-Sexual Nudity, Showers, Canon Character Death, Temporary Character Death

Word Count: 2,372

[Read it here on ao3.]

[Read its companion piece, Honesty is Key, here.]

"We need to talk."

The statement was a change of pace, that's for certain. Ever since they departed from the Verakan, Jaal had been uncharacteristically quiet, which was reason enough to worry.

Scott figured that he just needed time to think, to process. He was willing to give Jaal space, but the latter didn't seem to need or want it.

Instead, the instant they stepped foot onto the Tempest, Jaal hovered. Well, even more than usual, Scott should say. Lexi had performed a full head-to-toe assessment on Scott after his encounter with the Archon, and everyone knew better than to argue.

With that biological transmitter the Archon had injected into his bloodstream, Scott knew it was better to be safe than sorry. They couldn’t afford to make any mistakes, not now.

Not when they were so close to finding Meridian. They had the coordinates now. It was only a matter of taking that final leap into the unknown.

As Lexi scanned and prodded, Jaal stood by, shifting nervously every now and then. When he would chime in with a question, Lexi would answer, patient and understanding. Their words soon started to fade away into background. Scott's mind grew groggy, and his eyelids drooped.

More than once during the examination, he started to doze off. The adrenaline left over from the mission was starting to wear off, and exhaustion was settling in, hard and fast.

Turns out, dying —even if only for a moment— could take a toll on one's body.

Once everything checked out and Suvi and SAM confirmed that the transmitter was disabled, Lexi ordered that Ryder get some rest.

"Don't try to argue," Lexi warned. "I do want to speak with you more later after you've had time to recover, but victories aside, you've been through a trying experience. You need to allow your body and mind time to process that stress."

"Okay, mom," Scott teased, but his words sound slurred, even to his own ears.

"I'm simply giving my recommendation out of concern as your doctor... and as your friend."

Well, shit. Hard to put up much of a fight after a comment like that. Scott grumbled, but eventually acquiesced.

"Alright, alright, I'll go to bed."

"Good." She smiled gently at him, then turned to Jaal. "If you don't mind, see to it that the Pathfinder makes it to bed without fainting in the middle of the corridor."

Jaal's brief glance of concern had Scott instantly on edge.

"Don't worry. She's joking," Scott said, rushing to reassure him.

"Mostly," she added, her all-knowing gaze trained on the two of them.

And on that note, it was time for Scott to leave.

Hopping down from the table, his head instantly spun at the abrupt change in position, and his stomach lurched. The room tilted, and before Scott knew it, the floor was rushing up to meet him.

He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for impact, but it never came.

Peeking an eye open, Scott looked down, only to find Jaal's arm wrapped around him. Sheepishly, Scott looked up and met his eyes.

"Easy," Jaal cautioned.

"My hero," Scott said, flashing him a bright smile.

Lexi, on the other, was not amused.

"Take it slow, Scott," she scolded with a sigh. "I know it might be hard for you Pathfinder types, but there's no hurry."

"Noted." As Scott straightened up, Jaal kept his hand on the small of his back for support. Together, they left out of med bay. With a light wave, Scott called over his shoulder on their way out. "See you later, Lexi!"

It was only once they made it back to the Pathfinder’s quarters, safe and sound, did Jaal bring up needing to talk.

Scott worried at his bottom lip with his teeth, wondering what was on Jaal's mind.

"Sure, uh, yeah." Despite the nerves wreaking havoc on his mind, Scott nodded along in agreement. "We can talk."

Thankfully, his armor had already been stashed away by the time they got to the Tempest's med bay, but there was always that undeniable feeling of grime and filth that lingered after a mission, especially when said mission involved the Archon putting his filthy hands all over Scott’s face and drawing "samples."

Scott shuddered at the implications alone.

Still, he refused to go to bed like that. He couldn't.

"First things first," Scott said before Jaal could reply, "I want a shower before I go to sleep, and I, uh, well—" God, why was he such a stuttering mess? He swallowed thickly but forced the words out past the lump in his throat. With Jaal, he knew the direct approach was the best approach, so Scott would try to be open and honest with him about what he wanted. After all, Jaal was worth the effort of overcoming a few cultural norms. "I wouldn't mind having you there. Not for, you know, anything like that. Not saying that you aren't attractive! You are! It's just that I would like the company —your company, to be exact— especially if this is the part where I have a mental breakdown because I'm only 22 years old and never asked for any of this shit."

Maybe, just maybe, that was oversharing a bit.

Jaal blinked owlishly at him.

"Right. Rambling." Scott cleared his throat. Awkward. "Yeah, so, want to join me in the showers?"

In that way that was becoming typical of their interactions, Jaal followed Scott’s awkward display with a warm, tender smile.

"Okay."

Scott didn't even know why he was still surprised anymore. His would say his heart skipped a beat, buy he didn't think it could handle anymore excitement for the day.

"Okay!" Scott all but squeaked out, face flushed.

Before he could even grab a change of clothes, Jaal was already stooping low to scoop Scott up into his arms. Scott yelped, barely managing to snag some towels on their way out of his quarters.

Jaal's smile turned sly.

"I had to make sure you wouldn't fall again," he explained.

"Uh-huh." Scott huffed, but there was no real heat behind it, amused by Jaal's antics. "You're a terrible liar, you know that?"

"I don't do it often."

"Which is a good thing," Scott praised, "but you do realize I could have walked the few feet to get to the bathroom, right?"

As if on cue, they entered the confined space in no time at all. Luckily, no one was around, but there was still a misty steam lingering in the air.

Some of the squad must have already washed up then, having the same idea as Scott after the mission.

Jaal hesitated before setting Scott back onto his feet, watching closely as Scott used his clearance to bypass protocols and lock the doors.

"Is it so bad that I wanted to hold you in my arms," Jaal countered, "especially after what we went through on that ship?"

Scott stopped short at that.

"No," he sighed. "I understand." Scott turned the shower on and used Kallo's codes to override the hot water rations. He turned to Jaal and offered out his hand. "Come here."

Jaal placed his hand into Scott's without hesitation, and Scott tugged him forward. They couldn't keep their eyes off of each other, drawn into each other's arms. Over the course of their journey together, their connection had grown into a force to rival gravity itself, undeniable in its intensity.

Despite all of the obstacles thrown their way so far, they stuck by each other's sides, steadfast in their loyalty.

Slowly, they started to undress one another. One by one, each article of clothing pooled to the ground into a messy heap, only to be kicked aside and out of their way.

Left bare, they took in the sight of each other to their hearts' content. Here and there, they would exchange soft brushes of skin, gentle and curious. Their exploration of each other’s bodies was tentative at first, but they eventually grew comfortable, if nothing else.

Resting his forehead against Scott’s, Jaal released a shaky breath. He watched his hand stroke over Scott’s shoulder, his fingers trailing down along the length of his arm.

"I am..." He searched for the right word, soon settling on, "conflicted."

"How so?"

"What you did. What we accomplished here today, stealing the location of Meridian from within the Archon's ship, was nothing short of a victory. A turning point in all of our efforts against the kett."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here."

"But," Jaal continued, "I can't ignore the cost of that success." Jaal's bottom lip started to tremble. "Not long ago, you were upset because of how things played out with Akksul, but look at what happened to you!" He tightened his hold, as if Scott would disappear if Jaal so much as thought of letting go. "Scott, you died."

"I know." He took a deep, bracing breath. "Trust me, I know."

"For a second, I didn't think SAM would be able to bring you back."

"But he did," Scott said. "I'm not trying to brush off how you feel, but I'm here, Jaal."

Reaching out, Scott took Jaal's hand in his own, spreading it out over the center of his chest. His heart beat an even, steady rhythm underneath his palm.

"Feel that? I'm here, Jaal," Scott repeated. "I'm alive."

"Yes, you are." He dragged Scott into a bone-crushing hug, both of them desperately clinging to each other. "And for that, I'm grateful, far beyond what words can describe."

From there, they remained relatively quiet as they ducked into the shower's warm spray, contemplating all that was said and done. They picked up from where they left off, cleaning each other’s bodies as they discovered which areas to avoid and which spots to hone in on.

Breathless whispers and heated glances were exchanged. Each touch sparked a flash of desire, but Scott’s exhaustion would creep back up on him out of nowhere in order to weigh him down.

Before his desire could turn into anything more, it would be quashed within seconds.

It was probably for the best. Both of them were in a vulnerable place at the moment, and neither seemed all too keen on taking their relationship to the next step as an act of desperation.

It would happen on their own time. Not because they felt obligated to do so due to their own mortality, but because the time was right. They chose their own paths, and they wouldn't take that step until they were ready, not a second later or sooner.

Once they were done, they shut off the shower and dried off. Jaal promised to bring his collection of soaps and lotions next time, wrinkling his nose at the scent of their standard issue body wash, or lack thereof. Scott laughed lightly, and his grin only widened when Jaal became fascinated with drying off his hair.

"You're messing it up!" he cried out, unable to keep his laughter at bay.

"It's so soft, though, and cute!"

The second Jaal started pouting, Scott tried to make his escape. Jaal followed after him, towel in hand.

Scott didn't know exactly what happened then. At first, Jaal had him pinned with his back against the door, both of them grinning and giggling like a couple of giddy idiots.

Then, in the blink of an eye, they both yelped as the door opened into the hallway without warning. They fell into a pile on the floor, Scott grunting as Jaal's weight landed on top of him.

So much for discretion.

It didn't make any sense, though. Scott had locked the doors. He swear he did. Maybe he had hit the door's interface when Jaal pressed him against it, but even then, he would have to disable the security override that he had put into place for it to open.

With no obvious suspect in sight, the only other person who could have disabled the lock without being detected was—

Oh, that damn pesky AI.

Of course, before Scott could question SAM, the door to the galley conveniently chose that moment —of all times— to open.

Liam stepped out with a bowl of cereal in hand, only stop in his tracks when he laid eyes on his two squadmates. They all froze like a deer in headlights, not really knowing what to say.

With an amused shake of his head, Liam smirked and carefully maneuvered his way around them.

"Nuh-uh, don't worry. I didn't see anything," he said, munching happily on his cereal as he made his way down the corridor. "Gonna be a lot of unhappy bettors, though."

Wait, what?

"You little shits have a betting pool on my love life?" Scott called out.

"You mean, you didn't know?" Jaal whispered.

"Not answering that," Liam said. The coward escaped to the crew quarters, disappearing beyond the door. "I never saw you two, remember?"

"Yet I'm sure this is gonna be the talk of the info board for the next week," Scott groaned, dragging a hand over his face. "Thanks, SAM."

"I have no idea what you're referring to, Pathfinder," SAM chimed in from overhead.

"Oh, yeah?" A loud yawn tore through him. "Too bad you're an even worse liar than Jaal."

"And on that note," Jaal said, "let's get you to bed. You promised Lexi to rest."

Jaal got to his feet and offered Scott his hand, helping him to stand once more. They strolled into Scott's quarters, hand-in-hand, but Scott didn't want him to leave. Not yet.

This time, however, Jaal beat him to it.

"Mind if I stay a while?" he asked. "I wouldn't mind a nap myself. If it's okay with you, I could join you in bed."

Scott beamed at him, slowly pulling him along.

"Only if you promise to tuck me in and give me a goodnight kiss," Scott joked.

Jaal chuckled as they climbed into bed together, settling down underneath the covers.

"I think I can handle that." Reaching out, he cupped Scott’s cheek. "Although, you promised me one weeks ago."

"Well, I wouldn't want to break a promise to you, now would I?"

"I would hope not," he whispered, closing the distance to capture his lips in a kiss.

#mass effect #mass effect andromeda #scott ryder #jaal ama darav #rydaal #pathfinder ryder #scott x jaal #my writing #my fanfic #tw: death

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sunseteyes · 4 years ago

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FLUFFVEMBER DAY 30: KENMA KOZUME

prompt: random questions at 1am (prompts are by @jojosmilktea)

word count: 1,414 words | themes: gen!reader. comfort fluff? domestic! pre-established relationship

tags: @kacchanori @chickynn @todominica @sparkleswritings @brinthie @patricia-ceballos @giyuus-wife @bitchtrynafck @astrxrism @animatedarchives @deephasoceanmagic @strawberrysalwa @kawaiinishii @moonlightaangel @mrs-kuroojinguji @meliorist-midoriya @pandabobachan

rv: entirely self-indulgent. this is my routine at nightㄟ(￣▽￣��) plus, i first wrote this at 1am hehehe. also, if you guys want a song inspo listen to dreamy night by lilypichu it fits this fic so well!! also, thank you so much for supporting me all throughout my fluffvember! aaa i’m never doing anything like this again but instead maybe an event that posts every atleast 2 days?? heheh. i may have grew exhausted at least more than once but this was fun! please do look forward to my future events~ i love you all~ although speaking of kenma i’ll have an smau for him comin up!

✒︎ unspoken rule

kenma was sleeping when he heard the muffled noises that eventually became the cause of his consciousness, pulling him into the wake world with his eyes landing on you, your phone held up to your face as the light from the gadget reflected on your irises; eyes wide open, indicating that you have been focusing on whatever you were doing on the screen.

obviously from the sounds though, kenma could rule out that you were playing your favorite game—mobile legends, probably. he wasn't much of a fan of that game since he knows and likes the others more, but since it was the only game you and him mutually could play, he frequently lets you indulge him to play with you. he also knows that the only reason you might be playing as of the moment is because you couldn't sleep, just like usual.

however, his eyes were already giving up and he let the sounds from your game lull him again to sleep, pulling him in the dream world where his unconsciousness settles him in and tucks him in a fantasy that he might not even remember the moment he opens his eyes.

it was 1AM when he was awoken again, which was unlikely of him since he usually wakes up an hour after, and he'll play games from then on. despite that, he forced himself to stay awake when he sees your form, this time in front of your laptop, clearly working on something—probably a schoolwork or a tumblr post you would schedule to be published by tomorrow evening.

he sits up from the bed and he immediately wanted to lay back down again, his body urging him to. still, he raises up a hand to rub on his eyes, hoping to scratch away the sleepiness in his system.

he was half-asleep when he pulls himself to stand and sit on the empty chair next to you—the one he usually occupies whenever he's gaming or doing his livestreams. your chair will only rarely be occupied by you since you do your work outside, where you set-up your laptop and things to do on fresh air, also as a way to not be interrupted by the sounds his switch or keyboard produces whenever he plays.

every night though, is a different story.

kenma knows you are not much of a procastinator and usually does your schoolworks or stuff to do as early as possible—and he actually admires you for that. for him, you were one of the most responsible person he has ever met. however, you have a tendency to pressure yourself to do things as fast as possible, and kenma is here to support you, even if he has to sacrifice one hour of his sleep just to accompany you in your work.

he didn't have to peak on your laptop screen and just pushed his chair next to you, presumably a natural move of his—which it is, anyway. he then raises both of your hand rests so that he can settle himself beside you and lean his head on your shoulder, letting his eyelids close as you merely continued typing away from your laptop.

this is not actually the first time you've attempted to stay up late while doing your schoolworks or other things that could only keep you busy. that's why this is also not the first time he has done this for you and these moments just comes by, as if it was part of your daily routine.

"what are you working on again?" came out kenma's voice, soft and slurred from the drowsiness, but still clear enough for you, who was only inches away from him. he feels you halt your movements, and probably looks at him sideways for a second before continues on with your work.

"i have this event that i'm working on. i was supposed to do this last week but i got piled up by my schoolworks. you should sleep on the bed, ken. aren't you uncomfortable in this position?"

"i'm not," he says almost instantly, situating his head further onto your shoulder. "are you?"

"no, it's fine." there was a pleasantry in your voice that even when his eyes were closed, he knew you were smiling. "this actually feels nice. thanks for accompanying me again."

kenma on the other hand, barely had energy left to form a reaction, but he was still able to speak and mutter out words, nonetheless.

"ask me questions, (y/n). i might fall asleep if you don't."

"hm? isn't it better if you sleep instead? it's alright, y’know. i know you're tired."

"i'm not,” his brows curl and furrow in the slightest, "-just keep me from falling asleep."

"okay, alright, alright." you chuckle lowly, your energy depleted all the same, but seemingly still in a fair mood. he notices you stop your typing and you were humming, as if thinking and pondering deeply.

"what's your moon sign?"

"what's that?" kenma's eyes flufter and he sees you typing away again.

"like-your sun sign in the zodiac is libra right? the moon sign is the sign that you truly are deep inside of you." you say, despite being preoccupied. you're good at multi-tasking like that.

"i don't know what you're talking about." his eyelids closes again as he says the word "next"

"okay, uh-if me and kuroo are drowning, who would you save?"

"you," he says, not even thinking about it. "kuroo knows how to swim and you don't. besides, i'm sure kuroo would be the one saving you before he could even drown."

you let out a chuckle, probably grinning wide despite the straight-up insult he just gave.

"yeah, i think so too. your lazy ass would be ordering kuroo to save me instead, that's what."

he removes himself from your shoulder and opens his eyes to weakly glare at you, a pout on his lips that you had to laugh when you glanced at him sideways.

“what? it’s true.” you giggled and he eventually makes his way back to your shoulder, his silky hair tickling the sides of your face.

"how long are you going to stay up anyway? i'd have to play a game in a few later." he mumbles under his breath, his eyelids probably sliding shut with its desire to sleep.

your typing stops and your head turns his way once again, a hand along its way to reach for his hand, squeezing it ever so gently, "i told you, you could take a nap now. i'd just wake you up later when it's 2 AM."

your reassurance seems to have proven its worth when he lets out a breath that resembles one of a scoff, snuggling a little more on your shoulder, making himself more comfortable.

"head on to the bed, ken. you'll have a stiff neck if you sleep like that."

"i won't."

"hm?" you resumed typing, your focus divided upon kenma and what you were doing previously. you're so used in multitasking, but since you were far more concerned with his well-being, your fingers couldn't even find a way to work out anything with how your mind seemingly can’t form the thoughts you wanted it to do so.

"i won't, i'll stay here. just wake me up on time." he mutters as he drifts off, his breathing stabilizes and his form going slump next to you.

without noticing yourself, a corner of your lip curling up as the words to your work began to come back on your mind, your fingers working its way to type on your computer. you found a little bit of comfort in defiance of the stiffness and exhaustion of your muscles, trying your best not wake the other.

with him there, it was enough. with him beside you, it’s more than just enough.

thus you continued to work, with thoughts of how you’d sleep on kenma’s lap while he’s gaming a little bit later the moment he wakes up. just like usual, even in the difference of your waking states, you two still kept each other company.

despite having no conversation or obligation to do so, it became like an unspoken rule to keep the other from feeling lonely. because even in the darkest of nights and the brightest of days, you're there for him, and he's there for you.

and that alone was enough to go through the day, even at 1AM, where everyone else was sound asleep. at least, you have kenma here, right beside you.

#kenma kozume #kenma x reader #kenma x you #haikyuu x reader #kenma oneshots #fluffvember 2020 #fluffvember

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levbug · 4 years ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐉𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐠𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐢 𝐭.

#pairings ー goshiki tsutomu x gender neutral! reader

#warnings ー second year! goshiki, self-doubt, panic attacks, swearing (courtesy of shirabu)

#wc ー 1.7k

the first match of the year was always important to the players of shiratorizawa. to some, it signified the starting of something new and exciting, a journey to make the shiratorizawa team better than they were previously. to remind others that they were still a powerhouse school, despite past losses. to others, it meant proving yourself as the player you wanted to be.

goshiki was torn between both categories. he wanted to carry his team as a strong ace (preferably deemed stronger than his predecessor) and with pride. he wanted to be reliable. the backbone of the team. the one everyone could count on when they were in a pinch.

but how could he do that when he had been reduced to a sobbing, shaking mess?

he was surrounded by his teammates, who were trying to calm him down. the second and third years were fussing over him, trying to hype him up while the shy first years stood quietly to the side, pitying their senior. however, the encouraging words of goshiki's teammates fell on deaf ears as his breathing only quickened.

"shit," shirabu cursed under his breath, standing up from his squatting position in front of goshiki. he knew exactly how the young ace was feeling since he had been made captain after all the third years left. still, he was level-headed enough to not have a panic attack just 30 minutes before their first game of the year.

"somebody find (last name)!" his order spurred the stagnant first years, who were waiting on the tips of their toes to be allowed to help their much-respected senior. one of them (shirabu wasn't too familiar with the players who weren't in the starting roster) nodded and immediately left the locker room to find the said person.

"i've tried everything," kawanishi muttered, toying with the tape he had on his fingers. shirabu sighed. "are you sure (last name) can calm the guy down?"

shirabu nodded, his nervous ticks coming out. he anxiously checked at his nail beds, teeth almost cutting through the skin. "let's just hope they can."

just as the words left his mouth, the door slammed open. all eyes were on the entryway, startled by the sudden entrance.

"i'm here! where is he?" your eyes searched for your boyfriend, who you had been told was getting some pre-game jitters. no one had been given a chance to respond to your question because once your gaze landed on the cluster of boys who were surrounding a bench, you made a beeline for them.

shirabu and kawanishi silently thanked all the deities that they believed in, just thankful that you were finally here. "let's give them some privacy." the shorter male nudged his friend, who immediately got the message. kawanishi silently gestured for the rest of the team to follow him and shirabu out of the locker room.

you and goshiki barely noticed the other boys leaving the room—you were too focused on fussing over the shaking boy.

"tsutomu? focus on my voice, love," you ordered softly, holding his trembling hands between yours. goshiki sniffled, muttering a string of incoherent words as his grip on your fingers tightened. "it's okay, tsu. i'm here now."

you wrapped your arms around his neck. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, unaware of the tears and snot staining your clothes. you didn't care though, you only held him tighter. "wanna tell me what's on your mind?" your voice was soft, not wanting to force him into telling you if he didn't want to.

goshiki lifted his head, eyes red and glassy. you brought a hand up to caress his flushed cheeks, a small frown on your face. "i-i...i'm not—" he started to say, but started sobbing again. you waited for him to calm down, muttering reassuring words and telling him he shouldn't have to worry now because it was just him and you. after a few moments, he was able to level his breathing. "i just—what if i'm n-not as good as ushijima?"

his voice cracked at the last syllable, clearly ashamed to admit this. "oh, tsutomu..." you sighed, resting your forehead on his shoulder. you couldn't see it, but you knew goshiki's lip was starting to tremble. "you don't need to feel that way. you know you don't need to compare yourself to him."

"i kn-know!" he hiccuped. "it's j-just that...what if—what if i'm not a-as dependable?" he asked, head hanging low. "i-if we didn't win against karasunoー" he clenched his fists "ーeven with ushijima, what makes you think we can win with me as the ace? i'm nowhere near as skilled as he is, even if i keep boasting about it..." he sighed. his tone had become sombre and the air surrounding you two became thicker.

tears sprang into your own eyes as he voiced his worries. the anxiety and pressure goshiki had been feeling in the days leading up to this point must have been a great amount. and to think that he must have been hiding all this from you for the past few days (weeks? months? you weren't even sure). 'he must have been so scared,' you thought.

"i'm sorry, tsutomu!" you apologized, surprising the boy seated before you. goshiki snapped out of his thoughts, head tilted slightly in confusion. "i'm sorry you felt like you had to keep all of these thoughts to yourself!" you bunched up the material of his jersey between your hands. goshiki tried to take your hands in his, but you wouldn't budge. instead, you stared him straight in the eye, gaze unrelenting. "but please, please know that you should never feel that way! ushijima may have been a strong player, but he got there because of his will to learn and improve. tsutomu, everyone has doubts about their talents or skills. everyone has that time in their life when they don't know if they're good enough. the only difference is whether or not you want to use that as a chance to improve or give up completely!"

tears were now flowing freely down your cheeks. goshiki stared at you, slack-jawed and eyes wide. "and i don't care which you choose, because i will always be with you. no matter what. and that's a promise." your voice wavered at the end of your sentence, too overwhelmed by your feelings.

goshiki barely felt the fresh round of tears rolling down his cheeks, but this time they were for a different reason. a cheeky smile tugged on the corners of his lips. "do you mean that? you'll always be with me?" he poked your cheek, clearly in a better mood now.

you wiped your tears, laughing breathlessly at his words. "is that what you got from my speech?" he laughed as well, eyes twinkling delightedly when you placed a soft peck on his knuckles. "but since you're wondering, yeah. i plan to spend my entire life with you, whether you want it or not!"

goshiki grinned, peppering your face with small kisses. you squealed at him to stop, and he did (but not without one last chaste kiss on your lips). he smiled at you, eyes filled with love and admiration. goshiki had never felt this feeling before, but he was glad that he felt that way for you.

"thank you, (first name)," he muttered into your hair. the strands tickled him softly when you nestled deeper into the embrace. "i needed to hear that." he whispered. you smiled, intertwining your fingers with his: your hand, just as always, fit perfectly with his.

"it's no biggie, love." you kissed his cheek, giggling when he turned a light shade of red. you sat with him a few moments more, just enjoying the peace and solidarity with your boyfriend. it wasn't until the faint cheering of the crowd outside did you realize that goshiki would miss his game if he didn't leave now. "tsutomu! what are you doing, just sitting around? you have a match in less than five minutes!"

"right, right!" goshiki scrambled to his feet, taking you with him. his tears had long ago dried, the glassy shine replaced by usual fire that burned within him.

he led you to the doorway, bouncing on the balls of his feet with an expectant look on his face. you smiled, knowing he was waiting for. "good luck out there, ace." you moved to kiss his cheek. feeling cheeky, goshiki tilted his head so you would kiss his mouth instead. you gasped in surprise, but melted into the kiss.

goshiki pulled away with a soft sigh, his hand cupping your cheek gently. "i love you." he whispered. you felt your cheeks heat up at the sincerity of his words. "i love you, too." goshiki beamed at you. his smile was infectious and you soon found yourself reciprocating it.

neither of you noticed the squeaking of rubber soles on the linoleum floor. one of goshiki's teammates rounded the corner, stopping abruptly when he saw the position that you and goshiki were in. "a-ah, sorry to disrupt you!" he quickly averted his eyes, not wanting to ruin the intimate moment any further. "c-coach washijo told me to tell you that the match will be starting soon."

you and goshiki parted from each other, wearing small, sheepish smiles. the ace scratched his head, a low, embarrassed chuckle slipping past his lips. "right," goshiki nodded at the first year, who bowed once more in apology before scampering away. "i'll see you later, yeah?"

you nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "do your best out there, okay? no more of that self-doubt stuff. promise?" you held your pinky out to him. he chuckled before linking his pinky finger with yours.

"i promise," he grinned. a faint shout of his name from around the corner snapped you both out of your little bubble and goshiki finally let go of you. "i've got to go now," he said sadly. "but promise you'll keep your eyes on me the entire time?" he asked, eyes twinkling. you nodded, murmuring a soft 'yeah,' in response. "good! i'll see you after the game. i promise to make you proud!"

and with one last kiss on your head, goshiki left. you watched his receding figure with a dazed grin, butterflies erupting in your stomach just like they did when you had first met him.

"you always make me proud, tsutomu."

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oftenderweapons · 4 years ago

Text

Girls’ Night — a girlfriends’ tale

Characters: OCs (Vixen, Princess, Lace), small Namjoon intromission

Wordcount: 12.2k

Genre: slice of life with discussion of BDSM themes, conversation

Rating: suggested 18+

Hello doves! As I announced the other day, I have been working on extra pieces that I really loved as a concept. This one — I must admit — is especially dear to me since it covers topics that I consider extremely important. This fic discusses mature themes. Please minors, do not read or interact.

Quick recap: (read Jimin’s Love Talk if you want to know the whole background for this story) Princess — Jimin’s girlfriend — has ventured into the world of BDSM after Jimin expressed his interest in being dominated and spanked. A few days after her first brief session with Jimin, two old acquaintances come to her help: Vixen — Namjoon’s girlfriend and Princess’ high school classmate — and Lace, Vixen’s best friend, Princess’ university flatmate but also Taehyung’s latest crush. (Tae and Lace met through Vixen at Taehyung’s housewarming party). The girls meet for dinner at Princess’ apartment and after some confessions and girl talk, they explore the most important rules and procedures a person should know before dominating their partner in a basic impact play scenario, with special contributions of a trained domme and an experienced brat.

The piece is written with the girls as characters described through the POV of an external narrator. If you want to get to know the characters a bit better, you can find their headcanons here (Vixen — Princess — Lace).

On a lexical note: throughout the text I’ve used the word “dom” both as in short of the verb and of the noun. Even though the feminine form is usually “domme”, I’ve considered it gender neutral, as a short term for both “dominator” and “dominatrix”.

On an ethical note: I wanted to raise awareness on how a safe, sane and consensual domination works. These days there’s an increasing number of BDSM pieces coming out, and very few of them mention the level of emotional connection that is necessary in these circumstances. Most of them focus on the scene, without showing how pre-session negotiations, aftercare and post-session feedback work. I wanted this piece to be educational and I wanted to show the “background work” on how I plan each BDSM-themed piece before I write it. Though I’ve done a lot of research on handbooks, websites and forums, I am NOT a BDSM educator, so I would recommend reading more in-depth manuals in case you ever decided to venture in this world, and possibly speak with an expert first.

On to trigger warnings: swearing, consumption of alcohol, obviously there is in-depth discussion of NSFW and BDSM themes with focus on impact play. Discussion of hard limits, negotiations, SSC (safe, sane, consensual), safewords, aftercare, bruising, cutting/puncturing (connected with cane and cat-o-nine-tales whipping), marking, pain kink, punishment, drop (both for subs and doms), anatomy of impact play (where to hit, how to hit), sex toys (spanking, face slapping, paddle, riding crop, slapper, strap, whip, flogger, cane). That should be all. In terms of angst, there is some insecurity, jealousy, and slightly traumatic past experiences. Lace recalls one time she “dropped”, Vixen recalls a series of quite intense scenes. There are mentions of Vixen’s second relationship (toxic relationship with a man who called her out for her sex drive, kinkshamed her and forced her into becoming exclusively vanilla). Both Princess and Vixen mention abandoning some friends since they couldn’t trust them close to their boyfriends, or not respecting their privacy. Lace mentions traumas that lead her to learn domination. She also explains her insecurities about possibly dating Taehyung.

Word count: lengthy. 12.2k words. Reading is not necessary but recommended since a lot of pieces stem directly from this one.

Here is my masterlist!

Enjoy 💖

————————————

EDIT: You can find part two here

————————————

Lace came through with the loud stomps of the heels of her boots, the bag on her shoulder swaying heavily. It looked like she was ready to enter Cat Woman mode, wearing a cropped leather jacket rimmed with a thick black-fur neck. Her wondrous thighs were clad in tight, high-waisted jeans, her black leather knee boots completing the look. She impeccably wore her part.

As she neared the door, she checked her watch, noticing that she was a couple minutes early.

Five minutes later, always fashionably late, arrived Vixen, her hair falling perfectly around her pretty face, her lips tinged with a deep wine red, her doe eyes as inquisitive and wide as usual. It was exactly the girl she had met two years before on the other side of the counter of her shop, it looked like she hadn't aged a week.

"Hello!" She greeted her friend.

"Hi there! Look at you, you look like the best girlie in the world." Lace hollered back.

"Because I am." Vixen replied, basking in the attention and the praises.

"That self esteem is thriving! Freshly fucked and ready to misbehave?"

"Unfortunately not freshly enough, but you know me, I'm always ready to misbehave." Vixen winked before making her way to the entrance of the building, pressing the buzz for Princess' apartment.

"Isn't your big boy attending to his duties?" Lace asked, curious about the whole situation. She had personally met Namjoon and had seen the two of them together. They looked like the it-couple and she would gladly bet big money on the pair. Plus she knew about Vixen's collection and Namjoon's taste in terms of lingerie and negligees: in her honest opinion that's a solid base for a lasting union.

"He's attending, yes, but I don't want to vex him with my continuous cravings."

"Baby, not all of us are like that slut-shaming bastard of your ex. Stop thinking that needing to get laid more than once a week is a shame."

Princess voice sounded from the intercom. "Hi! It's floor 16 number 41!"

"Thank you!" Vixen replied before pushing the door open.

Lace slapped her hand and held the door as Vixen walked through. The other followed. "It's just that… He's been busy, plus he keeps saying he likes to come back early so we can have dinner together, he's always rushing from the studio to the dorms to his apartment. He looks like he'll get drunk on motion sickness before the tour even starts."

Lace stared at her feet as you both stood in the lift. How could she start something serious with Taehyung if they were going on tour? By the time she would get used to him he would be travelling on the other side of the world.

"So he stays at the dorms?" Lace fixed her bag on her shoulder.

"Often, yes. He stays at the apartment when I'm around, but he prefers the dorms when he's by himself or working."

The lift dinged and you exited, heading down the hallway "Thirty-eight, forty, there!" Lace chirped, noticing the open door.

There stood Princess, hair in a ponytail, wearing a fashionable white turtleneck and a thigh knee-length skirt. She looked classy and smart, just like she had appeared during previous meetings.

"Hello girls!" She waved at the pair, gesturing at them to come in.

"Hi there!" said Lace, "long time no see."

"We don’t see each other in ages and then two times in less than a month." Princess replied while hugging her. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if we reacquainted?”

Vixen nodded with a cute smile. "It would. I must say it was a surprise to meet you at the party with Jimin." Vixen took off her shoes as Princess offered her a pair of slippers.

"It seems like fate brought us back together." Princess replied.

“Indeed.” She commented, thinking about how they would get even closer if she gave in to the preternatural connection with Taehyung. Lace tugged at her boots, fighting with them a little before finally removing them, lost in her thoughts. She clumsily tried to avoid Vixen’s stare. She knew the girl would spot her secret in a second. Not now, she told herself. With the slippers on, Lace still looked like Catwoman from the ankles up, but her feet were clad with a pair of pink panther slippers that gave the outfit a hilarious twist.

"Let's move to the kitchen," Princess said, leading the way. "The apartment is small, sorry."

"Don't worry sweetie, with a view like this I would gladly live in a shoebox." Vixen commented, looking out of the window. "Plus you live pretty high up."

"It was accidental. I just needed something close to my office."

"What did you end up doing?" Lace asked as she looked at the prints on the wall.

"I work for a fashion magazine. Usually I do model casting and a little bit of everything about organising photoshoots." Princess replied.

"That sounds great!" Lace exclaimed, grinning.

Princess clumsily opened a bottle of wine, but fortunately no damage resulted. "What about you?"

"I'm a shop assistant in a lingerie shop." Lace replied.

"Don't diminish yourself like that." Vixen said, looking away from the window. "She works at the La Perla boutique in Gangnam, plus she has her own studio where she creates customised orders." The woman patted her friend on the shoulder. "She's amazing."

Princess lit up. "So you managed to make part of your dream come true!"

"A small part. I'm still far from having my own shop." Lace exhaled.

"But she's getting there." Vixen added with a positive note.

"I ordered in a little bit of everything." Princess said, taking the food out of the oven. "I didn't trust my cooking skills knowing this one." She pointed at Vixen. "I've heard you're almost a chef."

"I just took lessons." She shrugged. "I just really like everything that feels like home."

Sniffing at the air, Vixen sparked up, getting cozy at the smell of bulgogi. "This smells very nice."

"A little bird told me it's your favourite." Princess winked.

"Do I know that little bird?"

"He knows you very well." Princess said, admiring how the polished, elegant woman-girl turned completely smitten.

"I'll make sure to thank him."

Lace snickered. "Do you need help?" She offered, while Princess laid out a bunch of smaller plates and bowls with side dishes. "I got some dumplings, pancakes and our baby's favourite: braised potatoes."

Vixen clapped enthusiastically.

Dinner proceeded calmly, all the partakers digging in quietly, chitchatting between one serving and another, catching up on the various mishaps that had happened during those years apart.

"So you studied in Europe, right?" Princess asked Vixen.

"I spent almost two years between France and England, yes." She replied politely, sipping her wine composedly as if she hadn't devoured her serving of potatoes like a very smug wolf.

"Cool. But you came back here." Princess continued.

"Yes, I missed home. And I missed jajangmyeon." Vixen grinned. "Food in general. I like my life here. Living in Europe to me felt like being continuously on the sidetrack of something. Catching up with the culture is seriously a challenge, especially when you're in the art world."

"Right, you're an interior designer." Princess reminded herself.

"Exactly."

"I've heard you met Namjoon because of that."

Vixen smiled. "Yeah, well… The usual. We met at a gallery, I had a meeting with the artist and he accidentally participated. The artist and the director of the gallery accompanied us through the exhibition and at the end he asked if I wanted to grab a coffee. At the beginning I thought it strange that he hadn't booked a private visit, but he said that because of a last minute plan he had begged the director to book him in anytime. Since I'm friends with the director and I have strict privacy agreements at the firm, the curator thought it was a good idea."

"Who would have thought, uh?" Lace chirped in, laying her chopsticks on her empty bowl.

"Y'all, soju?" Princess asked, now that they were all done with the food.

While Vixen nodded, Lace held back. "I think I'll take just a sip. It gets me bloated."

The table was clean, the small cups for soju laying on the table as Princess shook the bottle and poured it according to tradition.

"Cheers to your taken asses and my single one." Offered Lace, the three of them laughing and downing the liquid. Princess drank it without even blinking, Lace taking it in a small measured way while Vixen downed it and scrunched her nose, shutting her eyes tight and shaking her head as she processed the burn.

"You're still a doll." Princess commented.

"And you're still otherworldly cool." Vixen replied, smirking. "You were the most bad ass girl of the class. I had lots of respect for you, but I was so scared of approaching you."

"You were so tiny and shy." Princess gushed. "You were everyone's crush but you were so smart. And a bit strange. It felt wrong to even think of you like that."

Vixen shook her head, "It feels strange to bring up those memories. After university and being abroad it feels like another life."

"Because many things changed in the meantime." Lace argued. "I've known you since you started working, two years ago."

"I spent half of my first paycheck at your shop."

"You did. And I asked you for coffee because I liked your sense of fashion."

"I thought you wanted to date me." Vixen laughed.

"Well, when you're done snuggling your big bear, you know you can come to me." Lace winked.

"My bear is pretty big so it might take me a while to be done with that." Vixen joked. "Plus I'm pretty happy. I haven't been this happy since I was nineteen. I'm content. Satisfied. Taken care of. Loved. I'm thriving." She closed her eyes and shrugged, smiling.

"My bad." Lace patted her own shoulder in support. "What about you and Jimin?"

"Oh, we met during a photoshoot. I assisted in his shoot and when he was done he asked to see the pictures that would feature on the magazine. That's when he asked me out for dinner." Princess said, her eyes shining as she remembered the event.

Lace noticed the two women staring at her. "Well time for my story… Me and my dildo met at the store, he was cute, I was needy and I invited him to my bed. That's how we first met and we've been happy ever since." Lace told emotionally. The other two burst out laughing, Vixen holding her belly while Princess leaned on the table.

"Oh goodness." The smaller one said.

"I think it's time we face our main topic. Would you like to start?." Lace asked Princess.

"Okay. I'll be very direct." Princess warned.

"Don't worry, we're all grown ups here. You're safe, darling." Vixen stretched her arm out to caress her forearm. "And we're pretty open minded, trust me."

"Okay. Basically, Jimin would like me to get a bit more rough in the bedroom. Namely, we tried spankings the other week. He sort of power-bottomed? Like he gave me instructions on how to do it."

Lace nodded.

"I am worried about how to handle this. I want to do it, but I don't know how to do it right. I don't want to hurt him." Princess said with a frown. “And I’m a little worried I liked it so much.”

Lace’s lips formed a small conspiratorial smile. “At the beginning there’s always a little bit of fear. And a bit of… Shame.”

“Yes.” Princess confirmed. “But it’s not something that bothers me. Like, it’s there but it doesn’t bother me. I don’t think it will persist. When I think about what we did… Well, I’m almost proud.”

Lace smirked and nodded. “That’s good. What would you like to work on? Is it just impact play — you called it "spanking" — or is it also domination on a broader sense?"

"Well… Wait, I took notes." Princess looked around, walking towards her bedroom and coming back with a small notebook and the guide.

"It's the book!" Lace exclaimed.

"The book." Vixen wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

"You, vixen." Lace smirked. "Namjoon is right calling you that."

"You have no idea." The other replied. "Now, let's see."

"I'll return you the book." Princess reassured her.

"You can keep it for another bit. You'll need it again with Jimin."

"We have our own copy, don't worry." Princess replied, with a quick smirk. "Well, I think I can dom pretty fine — as I read the book I realised I already have some of those behaviours. However there are some practices I might have to learn in person."

"Normally we teach how to dom through subbing: what you experienced the first time with Jimin was subliminally subbing." Lace took the reins and explained. "It is one of the most sophisticated forms of domming — being a power bottom — and the fact that he did that should suggest you that A — he's a very skilled sub, or B — he's generically a very smart person with good manipulative skills."

Princess listened to the explanation quite raptured. "Personally, I don't know how far he's gone with his exes but I would say he has taken the lead before and he's quite used to speak up and order me around a little, so his behaviour might come from that."

Lace nodded. "I would recommend that you talk to him and try to design a specific plan for the two of you. As I hinted before I have taken lessons on BDSM practices in a club here in the city. I have received almost two years of training and I have taken part as an assistant to a teacher for another two years, that's why I might sound academic and serious. You can stop me whenever you feel uncomfortable or when you need to ask a question." That's when Lace shifted. Her whole position changed: her back got straighter and her hands splayed on the table, somehow squaring her position.

"Okay." Princess confirmed.

"You know that during university I took that course on acrobatic yoga?" Lace asked.

Princess frowned. "Yeah, I remember."

"Well, it wasn't exactly acrobatic yoga." Lace shrugged and raised her eyebrows. "At the beginning I did do some acrobatic yoga lessons but then one of the students introduced me to this BDSM course and I left yoga for… yeah, you know." Lace laughed.

Vixen listened quietly, observing Princess' reaction.

"Would you consider taking lessons from an expert?" Lace asked.

Princess shrugged. "I think that the book was very good on general analysis. Personally, I've never considered meeting an expert mostly because I wouldn't know where to look for one. Plus, I've only had a week to think about this."

Vixen looked at Lace. "I'll be very blunt here, darling. I think that the best thing to do would be discussing the whole book thing with Jimin. Have pre-session negotiations. Discuss stuff. Find out what you want to explore and go there together."

Lace raised an eyebrow. "However, it is perfectly okay if you want to practice by yourself. Being a good dominant means that you can convey control and safety through your stance and behaviour. That requires practice."

Vixen nodded before adding, "It's okay if you want to take some steps by yourself before bringing him into the equation."

"Okay, so I reckon you have quite some knowledge on the theme. Maybe you could teach me something?" Princess asked Lace, a bit shy but fully determined.

Lace smirked. "That's why I came prepared. However, I must remind you I have been a co-trainer, and that doesn't mean I am a teacher, therefore I can only cover the basic stuff, which for now will suffice."

Vixen's eyes burned expectantly.

"Our girl here might help you see stuff through a submissive's eyes, right?" Lace questioned.

Vixen nodded and smiled, reassuring Princess by placing a hand on top of hers.

"Okay. Let's talk about general principles. BDSM is an acronym for Bondage, Domination, Sadism and Masochism. But I guess you read this in the book." Lace presented.

Princess nodded.

"The golden rule is SSC: Safe, Sane, Consensual. Use protection and make sure that you're both tested and clean if you go without a condom or dental dams. Also, keep your toys clean. Do not start anything if your judgement is clouded — by alcohol, drugs or violent, instinctual emotions. Make sure that both you and your partner want the same things. Explain what is going to happen and negotiate before each session — at least for the first few times. This is also the right moment to talk about safe words."

"Me and Jimin covered these already." Princess noted.

“Then you’re already halfway there. The biggest part of training is making people always aware of all the steps that could possibly go wrong and make sure that you’re prepared for the worst case scenario.”

Vixen nodded. “As a sub, it is important to feel safe. An anxious sub is a sub who can hardly feel pleasure, and that invalidates the experience as a whole. We only do it for pleasure.”

Princess listened carefully and thought about it a little. “How… How does it feel…To be a sub? I mean, I’ve sort of subbed with Jimin but… Yeah.”

“Well, I’m leaning-sub. That means I rarely dom, and when I do I’m a power bottom — that thing that Jimin did when he gave you instructions on how to dominate him. Being a sub has a lot to do with feeling cherished and taken care of. Some of us are not comfortable with power and responsibilities. Some of us simply like to be told what to do and please. I like doing what Joon tells me to do and do it perfectly the way he wants it to be done, because I know he will praise me and reward me. I know that he loves me regardless of me doing what he wants, but it pleases me immensely to use my submission to show him how far my trust and love for him go. I feel safe when I'm in his hands. And I like punishment, it helps me deal with guilt. When I make a mistake, I always torture myself with guilt and self-hate, but punishment makes me feel like I've made a mistake and I've paid for it. The point is not the punishment, but rather the forgiveness and the sense of atonement afterwards." Vixen spoke with a composed attitude, however her eyes wandered around nervously, as if trying to avoid meeting the others’ gazes.

"In that case the dominant is supposed to be attentive in terms of how far the submissive pushes themself. A sub looking for forgiveness is a sub willing to go further than normal, which means that they might inadvertently reach their breaking point — which shall never happen." Lace highlighted.

"The golden rule is to always leave hungry. There is a fine line between satiety and nausea. The moment you overstep and reach nausea is the moment your sub might hurt themself." Vixen said, tight lipped.

Princess nodded. "I'm glad we can have this conversation. It's not something I can quite talk about with my friends since the whole situation with the boys is pretty delicate. I had to close some of those friendships to keep Jimin safe. I realised I couldn't trust some of those people and I'm glad I realised before it was too late."

Vixen’s leg started bouncing. “Same with Joon. I don’t have that many friends in the city, mostly because of the time abroad and the fact that all of the friends I had by now are married and/or with kids. I couldn’t trust many of them, but you —” she said, gesturing towards Lace, “and when I introduced you to Namjoon I told him you were one of the most discreet people in the world, because you value your privacy and other people’s privacy because of your, uhm, lessons.”

“It feels good to have someone to share this burden with. I’m pretty scared of the tour.” Vixen looked down. The poised young woman seemed to crumble, giving space to an insecure little creature. “We’ve been dating since last November, but our relationship hasn’t really begun until late February. To be honest I’m terrified.”

Both Lace and Princess reached out for her.

“I’m scared.”

“Have you told him?”

“Yes, he knows.” Vixen sparked up for a minute. “We talk a lot. He always asks me how I feel about things. Lately I’ve been spending all my time away from work with him. It’s been… maybe three days since I last went back to my apartment. And in the last month or so I’ve slept alone maybe three or four nights. I don’t know what I’ll do when he’s away.” Vixen’s eyes welled up with tears before she smiled classily and recomposed herself. “But that’s not relevant.”

“It is, baby.” Princess rubbed her shoulder. “You have my number. You can reach out to me anytime.”

“I’ll be there too, you know. I know I’m not your Big Bear, but I can cook and I’m an excellent vintage movie marathon partner.” Lace rubbed the other shoulder, catching the few tears that had fallen. This was a further confirmation that Namjoon was the right man for Vixen: he had reached out to Lace a few weeks after they had been introduced, asking her if it was cool if he asked her updates on Vixen during the tour, mostly because he knew she would put up her strong, charming face in front of him, but secretly she would be worrying over his absence. That brought them close; it felt good to create this safety net for Vixen and it felt even better to know her in the hands of a man worthy of her, attentive despite his busy schedule and strong work ethic.

“Thank you, girls. That’s really sweet of you.”

“You’re the one who made this possible,” said Princess, gesturing to the three of them sitting at the table together. “I owe you. And I reckon this is a good time to make amends for not making friends with you in high school.” Princess laughed. “We’ll all need each other. We could have a group chat with Jin’s girlfriend too. Plus Jimin mentioned Yoongi is seeing someone.”

“Yes, Namjoon mentioned too. I’ve heard she’s a lawyer. He’s got this insanely huge crush on her.” Vixen giggled. “I haven’t met her yet but I’ve heard they were supposed to go out tonight.”

“Maybe we’ll see her at the next gathering.” Princess wondered. “I must admit I’m curious.”

“I am too.”

Lace felt a bit out of the conversation. “Me and Taehyung have been texting.”

Vixen blinked and turned to her. “What?” She had this face that read perfect confusion. “How long? And you’ve never told me? I mean, I gave him your number but I didn’t—”

“It’s because I haven’t been really taking him into consideration until recently.” Lace replied. “Normally I would reply to him with small texts, just to avoid sounding rude.”

“You mean to tell me you have Taehyung wrapped around your little finger — Kim Heartthrob Taehyung — and you weren’t even interested? Have you been doing drugs too?” Vixen looked outraged. “Fucking insane.” She shook her head.

“You know me. I value my privacy. Do you know how fucking un-private it is to potentially date that man? What if they find out about my extracurriculars?” Lace pointed out.

Vixen exhaled and formed a tight-lipped smile.

“Don’t give me the disappointed mom look.” Lace replied. “Plus I’m the same age as you, you have no right to turn judgemental.”

“Of course.” Vixen nodded. “Your safety first, love.”

“It’s just that I want to, but I can barely imagine how fucked up that could be.”

Princess breathed out. “Jimin and I have been extremely private about us and me being so close to the press means I am risking so much.” Princess opened her arms wide. “But it would take a catastrophe to take him away from me.”

“Give him a chance. Tell him about everything outright and let him choose. He’ll take his chance. Don’t choose for him.” Vixen pointed out. “That’s how I did with Joon. We talked and clearly said ‘this is what I need and what I can give, can you comply? Are you okay with it?’ It’s a bit of a bet, but I think the prospect of gain outweighs the actual risk of it.”

Lace nodded. “And then there’s the tour.”

Vixen and Princess nodded. Vixen tried to keep her insecurity and jealousy at bait. All those girls drooling over him, all those female staff members travelling with him. She propped her elbows on the table and pressed her forehead against her palms, her lovely hair falling forward.

Princess, sitting beside her, rubbed her back. “What if you just give him one date. Tell him your situation both about your, uhm— hobby and your emotional state. I’m sure he will understand. His emotional intelligence is impressive.” Princess stated, nodding, her hand still rubbing Vixen’s spine.

“He’s the kind of man I would gladly be a sucker for.” Lace explained. “I knew I was a dom since I was eighteen, but Jesus, I know I would sub for him.” Vixen seemed to awaken at that comment. “I’ve seen his stages. He is insane.” Lace bit her lip. “But I need time to trust him. And it would feel useless to get cosy with him only to have him leave for the tour.”

“Just tell him.” Vixen encouraged her. “He will surely work with you on a compromise.”

“I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Are you okay?” Lace checked in on Vixen.

“Yup. Just a sudden jealousy rush.”

Lace frowned. “He would never. Don’t worry about that.” Lace cocked her head to the side. “He worships the ground you step on.”

“Girls throw thems—”

“He throws himself at you.” Lace remarked. “Plus he loves you. You love him. That’s all that matters. He gave you the passcode to his house, basically made you move in, what else do you need? I bet he’d gladly handcuff himself to you if you asked kindly enough.” Lace joked.

“Scratch that ‘kindly enough’. He’d cuff himself to you without you even asking.” Princess remarked.

“Can we move back to the BDSM introductory lessons?” Vixen asked, shaking her head, but with a tiny smile on her face.

Lace saw that was a good sign. Princess smiled beside her. “Okay, I’ll go with my request. I know I told you I wanted to get to know more of impact play and if we could focus on that...”

“Yes, I get where you’re headed. Let’s get it. But we’ll need a clean table for this.” Lace explained.

“Let’s do this.” Princess stood up from the table, beginning to clean up everything. It took the girls only a couple minutes to get rid of dirty dishes, empty boxes, the glasses and the soju. Even the fruit basket the guests had bought was moved on the kitchen counter.

“Do you have any sanitizer, perhaps?” Lace asked.

“Isn’t it better if we move to the sofa?” Suggested Vixen. “Use the coffee table?”

Princess shrugged. “Same to me.”

Lace nodded convincedly. “Let’s prep the coffee table. Sorry for the main table.”

Princess shrugged. “Needed to clean it anyways.”

A few minutes later the girls were all sitting around the coffee table, Lace’s bag placed at her side while Vixen occupied her other side, Princess sitting in front of them.

“Let’s do an impact play in depth analysis. What you need is one — a dom, two — a sub, three — optional, — supplies.” Lace listed. “Let’s go a bit at a time. First, the dom. A dom must be sober, lucid. No alcohol, drugs, and most importantly, no impulsive, instinctual emotions. If you’re furious, don’t go there. Violent emotions can cloud your judgement. Don’t let those lead you. Of course you might be angry or aroused, but that must not take the lead. If your anger makes you want to give them fifty spanks, but normally your sub can take twenty, you can negotiate maybe twenty-five. Be judicious, never hungry.”

“Good.” Said Princess, focusing on every single one of Lace’s words.

“Once you’re sure you’re in a coherent, calm mindset, you should negotiate with your sub. Remember: safe, sane, consensual. Safe, in this case, involves that your supplies are clean and cannot hurt your sub, both in terms of cleanliness and state of use. Check for loose threads, scratches on leather that could possibly host bacteria or dirt, splinters in case of wooden devices, porous surfaces. We’ll talk about this more accurately in the supplies section. Sane means to check your mindset and your sub’s mindset. Same rules as before: no alcohol, drugs, violent emotions.”

Vixen made eye contact with Lace, silently requesting permission to speak. “Small note on that, may I?”

Lace nodded.

“Your sub might come to you while being emotionally unstable. They might need you for comfort or atonement. Make sure to heal that emotionally before dealing with it sexually. It means to discuss what caused the upset state of mind in order to identify the real entity of the problem, correct the perception of it and negotiate the atonement.”

“Excellent point.” Replied Lace.

Vixen smiled cutely.

“Can I have an example?” Asked Princess with a frown.

“Of course. Let’s say I fucked up at work, I booked the wrong artwork and the artwork they wanted is no longer available. I manage to find an alternative but I somehow feel like I let down my client. I go home and I am scolding myself because I didn’t deliver what was asked of me. My dom may spot my disappointment or may recognise self-punishment. Also, I might explicitly tell my dom I am not feeling well due to a sense of guilt. This leads to my dom asking me why I am upset or why I am punishing myself. I — along other perfectionists like Jimin — tend to overestimate my mistakes, making them a bigger deal than what they actually are. My dom corrects my perspective through objective analysis, underlines my successful abilities in dealing with the issue and suggests potential improvements on those things I didn’t manage to solve. Perfectionists have a strict inner judge that scolds them and punishes them. Therefore their psych is divided into victim and punisher. This fracture obviously causes discomfort. The dom’s goal is to heal this fracture, especially since the perfectionist’s “punisher” side — so to say — is very strict and usually overestimates the damage and subsequently overestimates the punishment. After correcting the perception of the mistake, the dom gives an appropriate price for atonement.”

“So the goal is to stop the guilt trip mechanism?” Princess asked.

“Yes.” Vixen confirmed. “But this is just one kind of spanking. There are other cases. It can be educational or simply sexual. Educational is when the dom corrects the sub’s behaviour because they violated a rule or an order. In that case it’s mostly dom-initiated—”

“Unless the sub willingly misbehaved to earn a punishment.” Lace added.

“That sounds Jimin.” Princess commented, rubbing her forehead.

Vixen smiled widely.

“That’s not funny, you brat!” Lace scolded her.

“When you find your sub willingly misbehaving, you should talk to them very clearly. Usually they do it to attract attention. Ignoring them might hurt them or bring them to further misbehaviour, which can turn dangerous. I normally recommend conversation.” Lace explained. “Pay attention to them and ask why they broke the rule, what they were trying to get out of it. You can give them the punishment they were asking for — for example if your sub disobeyed because it earns them spanks and they like spanks, you can either give them spanks or punish them with something that they really don’t like, for example edging.”

Princess nodded. “That’s interesting, thank you.”

“Any remark, Vixen?”

She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so.”

“What about sexual spanks?” Princess questioned.

“Those can be incorporated into foreplay. Some people are simply aroused by pain.” Vixen shrugged. “It puts the sub into a vulnerable position, and it underlines a power imbalance. It makes the sub feel smaller, powerless — or almost so — and sometimes humiliated.” Vixen explained.

“Exactly. I would add that it stimulates the circulation of blood to the pelvis region, which means that skin is more sensitive, arousal increases and the whole perception intensifies. It builds trust and sometimes, according to personal history of each sub, it can send them back to childhood memories, mimicking the power imbalance between child and adult who disciplined them. It has strong disciplinary and educational value, back to the punishment scene.”

“Oh, about punishment!” Vixen exclaimed. “We forgot the most important part of it all. But it refers to all sorts of spanking, to be true. Negotiation. Once you have identified the fault, tell your sub how many hits there will be, how you will deliver them and with which instrument, which position they will have to assume. Repeat safewords. Make sure that they agree fully to every detail of the spanking. If they do not agree to some parts, ask to find a compromise, a middle ground between your and their needs. Once you have the green light, you can talk your sub through the whole experience as the scene actually develops. Once you are done with the scene, say a code phrase that means that the scene has finished.”

“Okay, me and Jimin did this stuff our first time trying this.” Princess confirmed.

“Wonderful. Was it a positive experience? Did you have any uncertainties, questions?”

“It was a very positive experience, both in mine and his opinion. We talked it out the morning after, since I preferred to have some time to elaborate my personal feelings about the scene”

“That’s okay. As a dom you can experience mixed feelings, especially after a first scene, with activities that are usually misjudged by society”. Lace explained, gently patting Princess’ hand on top of the table.

“I think that Jimin’s positive reaction and guidance helped me feeling positive about the whole scene. He was truly supportive through all of it.” Princess smiled softly.

“That’s a good partner. Both for life and for play”. Lace smiled herself, glad that Princess’ first experience went well.

“There were very deep emotions of care and support and love during the whole scene. A kind of affection and vulnerability I had never experienced with anyone else. I hope I can go there again with him, but next time I want to be more reliable and secure and experienced. I thought that a general introduction, especially about supplies, could help me, since Jimin was interested in that.”

“Okay, let’s just finish the general intro. We were saying safe, sane and consensual. Safe means toys, safewords and aftercare supplies. Sane means both parties know what they’re doing, the dom is aware of the sub’s mental space. Consensual means negotiation about number of blows, technique, position and eventually toys. Make sure that your sub always knows about the motive of the spanking. The natural response, especially to pain, is ‘why’. Make sure they know. Eventually, remind them. Once more remind them of safewords and the final sentence.”

“Do not ever stop unless they safeword.” Vixen said. “If they repeatedly tell you to stop, remind them they have their safewords if they want to. As a sub I’ve said both ‘stop’ and ‘why’ at least a hundred time during a spanking. ‘Stop’ and similar are pretty recurrent. Just say ‘You know your safeword, love’. If they really need them, they will use them, trust me. Just remind them all the time. You could maybe need to slow down, make sure that they aren’t panicking and they do actually remember their words.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Lace confirmed before turning to Vixen. “Have you been studying?” She joked.

“I’ve been reading lately.” Vixen confirmed, with a very happy smile on her face.

Lace mirrored her expression. She knew Vixen had been pushed into quitting BDSM activities by her ex boyfriend. Knowing that she was finally back to something she liked, something she was comfortable with made her happy. “I’m glad you’re back on track, sweetie.”

“Thank you.” Vixen closed the small exchange with Lace.

“Once a scene is closed, your sub might have different responses. They might ask to be left alone. In that case, make sure that healing supplies are ready for their self care. Remind them to check for abrasions. If the skin is damaged on a surface level — that means it is not only bruised, but also broken — you will need disinfectant and probably band aids.” Lace explained.

“But that happens rarely, right?” Vixen asked.

“With average spanking, that is quite rare. Normally you need specific instruments specifically meant to cause abrasions.”

“Like canes and spiked toys?”

“Yes, but not only those. I’ve seen pretty heavy damage caused by an apparently regular flogger.” Lace commented, shuddering at the memory.

Vixen blinked, a bit shocked. “Okay, back to aftercare.”

“Yeah,” said Princess, exhaling and looking away.

“So, unless your sub wants you to leave, you stay around. Provide for them. Rub lotion first. Some subs store specific lotion for this kind of stuff. To ease the burn, the sting, or lessen the bruises.”

Vixen interrupted. “I must say, most of us like the bruises and the reminder-sting, so they don’t really do much about it. Still, it depends on how far you’ve gone and how the sub feels. Usually, my favourites are a cold cloth, lotion and if I went particularly far maybe a painkiller. Normally herbal lotion and muscle relaxant are an excellent solution. They’re softer and safer, especially since you never know how a sub might react to medicines. As usual, make sure that whatever you use on them is safe. Let them prepare their usual medication. Make sure you have plenty of time to ascertain that they are emotionally stable. Do not leave them alone unless they request so, and tendentially it is good etiquette to stay in proximity, in case they change their mind.”

“Thank you so much for all the head ups.” Princess said, true gratitude shining all over her face. “I feel more comfortable knowing that we followed those lines during the first time too. It’s not something absurd. Youjust really need to use your common sense.”

Vixen nodded. “Being smart sure helps, but it’s not everything. You can only truly learn it by making it a routine.”

“You mean practice?” Princess questioned.

Lace nodded. “Yes. Once you actually start practicing, you’ll immediately find out your forte and potential weaknesses. Be comfortable with those: you can ask us or look it up on the guide, or on BDSM blogs. I can send you reliable sources, if need be. I would say you can reach out to my dungeon, it is a safe and discreet environment, but I fully understand your position, and I get that you might prefer to have a private approach to this. You can eventually book personal appointments with an expert. Those normally include non-disclosure agreements and Jimin could be protected from the public eye, as far as it can go.” Lace explained. “We have had many, many clients who have requested so. It would be perfectly normal.”

Princess thought about it and nodded. “I’ll discuss it with Jimin.”

“Perfect. As you can see the key to this is communication.”

“Indeed.” Confirmed Princess.

“Now, let’s get down to the actual business.” Lace opened the bag but left all the contents inside. “Impact play can happen on different parts of the body. Vixen?” Lace called.

Vixen stood up gingerly.

“Tie your hair, doll.” Lace reminded her.

The woman fished a ribbon from her pocket and did a soft ponytail.

“Good. I’ll show you.” Lace fished out a long, silky bag from her weekender; untying the ribbon, she pushed her hand in and extracted a long stick. A cane, Princess corrected herself.

Lace didn’t pay much attention. Its purpose was that of a pointing stick at that moment. “Number one, the derrière.” Vixen turned and Lace let the wooden instrument hover over the girl’s ass. “You know what to do to hit here?”

“Find the tailbone and place your non-dominant hand over it to protect it. Alternate sides, rub between a spank and another. Hit the lower region, far from the nerves up high. Where the flesh swells, that’s where I can hit. Also the back of the thighs.”

“Excellent. That’s all.” Lace congratulated. “Other spots are the back of the legs, more precisely the back of the knees and the calves. However, knees are delicate, so you can only deliver delicate blows with a restricted selection of toys. I would not recommend it. The back of the calves also offer a limited selection of toys, but it is slightly safer to go there. Still, the surface is limited and the knees and ankles are close. The risk of missing your target is high. Since you’re a beginner I would not go there.”

Princess nodded. “What kind of toys can I use?”

“We’ll cover that later. For now let’s just run through anatomy.” Lace answered calmly. “Are you good, Vixen?”

“Yup.” The other replied.

“Perfect. Turn to your side profile.” Lace asked and Vixen quickly provided.

Lace pressed the cane in a line connecting the peaks of each of Vixen’s glutes. “From here—” she moved all the way down to her mid thighs “— to here it’s good. The peak to the midthigh.”

“Great. Got it.” Princess replied. “There are other places? Like…?”

“Would you like to talk?” Lace asked Vixen. “You're the expert.”

“May I?” She asked.

“Of course, sweetie. You’re the expert in this.”

Princess raised an eyebrow at the comment, but still she stayed focused. To say she was intrigued was a big understatement.

Vixen’s sweet voice began speaking. “Other than the backside, as we’ve just mentioned, there are other spots that can be involved in impact play. While the back of the thighs and the butt can stand harsher beatings with almost all toys intended for impact play, other areas are more sensitive, more delicate or consist in a smaller expanse of skin, therefore they shall be treated differently. Both the palms and the back of the hands, just like the soles of the feet can be involved, especially when matched with instruments with a smaller surface of beating, like a slapper, a riding crop and a cane — for example. They shall be treated lightly, since they have lots of nerve endings, bones and tendons exposed.”

“What’s a leather strap?” Princess asked.

Lace lifted a finger as a sign to wait, before digging her other hand in her bag and extracting a small device, of maybe twentyish centimetres of length and five or six of width; she placed it on the table to let Princess observe it. “Handle and slappers.” She pointed. “Very noisy, actually pretty innocuous. The leather bits slap against each other and create a single impact that sounds like a double.”

“It sounds scary, though.” Vixen noted. It always made her blood curl in her veins, the heavy smack turning into a torturous feel as the hit didn’t match the noise. Fear worked, but the sensation didn’t. It was not something she liked, usually.

Lace nodded. “I haven’t used it much. Usually people like the cane on the back of the hands. Because of old school punishments.” Lace explained.

“Right. Thanks.” Princess nodded.

Vixen waited for a sign before moving on. Once she had both women’s attention, she proceeded. ”Thighs are generally all good, if they’re fleshy and plump enough. Make sure that you don’t go too hard when hitting close to private parts. While a vulva can handle a fair bit, the penis is generally more delicate in the structure. Thighs can handle all toys, just like the ass. Paddles, slappers, straps, riding crops, whips and canes. For private parts I recommend the riding crop.” Vixen smiled politely.

Princess interrupted. “The strap is that kind of… like?” She gestured a long and thin rectangle with her hands, looking for words.

“It looks like a belt bent in two, with a handle. Maybe I have it…” She rummaged in her bag. “No. Sorry. I think I left it at home.”

Princess waved her hands. “Don’t worry, that’s okay, I think I visualised it pretty well.” She smiled. “There’s more?” Princess said, marvelled as Vixen began talking again.

“Well, yes. Oh, first a small warning — before I forget. You must absolutely stay away from the belly and the stomach. Same for the lower back.” Vixen showed the various spots on her body with precise gestures of her hands. “Too many vulnerable organs left unprotected there.” She took a small pause and then moved on.

“Some people can handle hits on their shoulders and upper back, where the internal organs are protected by the ribcage and other bone structures; however I would talk with a professional about that kind of scene since you need to flawlessly master advanced equipment — people tendentially use whips and similar, or the strap.” Vixen stopped for a second, looking at Lace as if asking whether she had anything more to ask. Lace shook her head, inviting the other woman to proceed.

“Now, about delicate parts: some people like being slapped in the face, but then again, that must be clearly stated in the negotiations. I’d say you should only use hands, but maybe I’m projecting.”

“In four years, I’ve only used and seen other use hands. Also, riding crops, but usually that’s just to direct head movements or to pat the face, rather than slapping it.”

Vixen nodded. “Great. About interesting stuff, nipples can be gently stimulated with small, very delicate pats. Riding crops are excellent for this use. Also slappers. Maybe canes in some cases.” — Lace did a so-and-so motion with her head. Vixen continued, — “Some people can go very hard on nipples and technically — just like with the butt — women who have bigger breasts can stand more intense stimulation”.

“Oh, that yes. You can use, as usual, riding crops, but also paddles, straps and whips — if you’re experienced.” Lace added.

Princess nodded with an interested expression. She could mention that to Jimin. Imagining him with a riding crop, standing at the side of the bed, rubbing the leather bit against her nipples before whipping them harshly had her losing focus for a second, taking in a big breath and biting her lip.

Vixen grinned. She could practically read the other woman’s thoughts. “For women with smaller breasts and men, I would say to stay on the more gentle side for the first few sessions and eventually — once you know each other and once you know your sub’s pain threshold — you can get more heavy-handed, so to say. As I said before female private parts can handle pretty harsh whippings, especially since arousal tends to make the labia plumper and therefore protect the skin better. Still, you should start slow and work your way up. Male crotch area is a lot more delicate, however the shaft can take a medium-intense whipping. I recommend riding crops and small leather straps.”

Lace raised her eyebrows at Vixen with a proud grin. “Nothing to add. This should be all.”

“Wow.” Princess was a bit excited. If Jimin had looked that good with a few spanks, she could only imagine what he would do once she got more experienced and learned what actually drove him crazy.

“That’s a lot of stuff, I know.” Lace reassured her.

“I’m actually excited. Like, it sounds very interesting. There’s a lot of trust and knowing each other. I really like that. I think it brings the partners very close.”

Vixen nodded. “It does.”

Princess bit her lip. “I don’t want to pry but… Do you do all of that?” She looked at Vixen with a slight blush.

The woman giggled. “Not anymore, no.” She took a meditative pause, like she was reminiscing something. It felt strange that a girl so young could feel so old every now and then. That dark cloud that obscured Vixen’s doll-like traits disappeared, leaving only a fond grin in tow. “Now I do the bits I like best.” She grinned.

Lace looked at her with a bit of worry before smiling again.

“Before we actually start with tools I need to make sure that you know all you need about aftercare and drops.” Lace said seriously.

“Yes, please.” Princess said. “May I recap what we said about aftercare?”

“Yes, sure.” Lace invited her.

“Prepare the stuff before. Check for abrasions: if there are, then disinfectant and band aids. Next cold cloth, lotion and eventually painskiller. Use medicines that my sub takes regularly. Make sure that they’re okay emotionally. If they want me to leave, I do, but I stay close.”

“Amazing. Quick learner.” Lace cheered.

“Those were also in the book.” Princess commented, diminishing her feat. “Plus I did it already. Sort of.”

“I’ve seen people take weeks to put all of that together. You did a good job, stop doubting yourself.” Lace corrected her. God, these two insecure creatures would be the death of her.

“Aftercare is not only physical, but mostly emotional. If your sub wants you close, cuddle them. Jimin looks like the type to want cuddles and reassurance afterwards. Make sure you give plenty. Would you like to explain the drop Vixen?”

“Yes, of course.” Vixen intervened before addressing Princess. “I always like to talk about this subject because it can affect anyone, without any need to get involved in BDSM. ًWhen experiencing an orgasm, our bodies produce an incredible quantity of hormones that make us literally ecstatic. What happens sometimes, especially after long or intense scenes is that our bodies get high on these hormones, experiencing a sense of withdrawal once the rush is over. Such withdrawal, so to say, can cause pretty intense sadness that can lead to numbness, indifference, or even hate and depressive or aggressive behaviours. A good way to slow down this sadness is providing the body with other hormones that usually calm us and relax us. Cuddles and sugars usually are a good way to help the body produce oxytocin — commonly named ‘the hormone of happiness’. It’s the same hormone that spikes when mothers are breastfeeding their babies.” Vixen smiled fondly.

“This is incredible.” Princess said, completely amused. “So cuddles heal both the sub and the dom, I assume.”

“I think so, yes. Usually I’m the cuddler while Joon is the cuddlee during aftercare. Both subs and doms can experience the drop since both suffer the shift in hormones. It’s really about mutual care. Usually though, there are people who suffer more.” Vixen commented.

Lace spoke shyly. “Once I went so hard on a sub that I felt awful with myself after the scene was done.” Lace said. The silence felt heavy, like in some part of her mind Lace was still seeing that scene. “Usually the dom is expected to give the sub water, sweets and a cozy blanket — water for the body fluids, sweets for rebalancing the sugars after an intense effort and the blanket for emotional safety. I remember that one time the sub used the aftercare kit on me. It took me almost an hour to get back on a neutral state of mind.” It was Lace’s turn to be comforted. As Vixen rubbed her friend’s back, Princess spoke.

“So I might experience guilt and sadness afterwards and that’s normal?”

As Lace was still thinking, Vixen spoke up. “It happens, though usually, if your partner reassures you and supports you properly, you should be able to deal with it together with quite some ease. I myself have shouted slurs at my dom in the past during punishment, but that is because pain or anger make you do that. I may have sent him into a drop once, and since that time I always make sure that I praise and cuddle my dom once the scene is over. It’s important that you remind yourself that what is said during an intense scene is due to the sub’s sensations in that moment, therefore you shouldn’t give it much importance. Still, once you have your post-session chat you have every right to say ‘that hurt me, please don’t do that again’. It’s etiquette.” Vixen said with a serious note.

Princess nodded. “So cuddles, water, sweets and a good comfort blanket.”

“Normally, yes.” Vixen replied. “Sometimes shower or bath together, wash your partner clean or have them wash you. For some people physical cleanliness is also spiritual cleanliness. It eases the mind from whatever ‘dirty thing’ you’ve done during the scene. The rest is really what you would normally do during self-care, but with your sub. Facemask? Junk food? Lotion? Massage? Tea? Whatever you like as long as you do it with affection.”

Princess nodded. “This is really helpful. I just need to do anything that Jimin likes, and do it with him.”

“Yes, if he wants you close — which I assume he does, knowing the two of you.” Vixen smiled.

Lace added her own contribution. “If possible, remember to schedule a post-session chat. Whenever it feels comfortable. Normally you wait until all parties have fully recovered before saying ‘let’s talk about it together’, but some subs are already okay talking about it during aftercare. Just make sure that you know how your sub felt about the stuff that you did together, and that you tell them how you felt yourself. This is not one-sided. Power imbalance is limited to the scene: once you’re done, You’re equal again — that’s why a final sentence is necessary. It breaks the power imbalance and repristinates equality. All parties are equally entitled to support and communication.” Lace said, making sure that Princess grasped the concept. That’s where most couples went wrong: communicating.

“Thank you girls.” Princess said gently. “Thank you for the insights, and for your personal experiences.”

“You’re welcome.” Lace said heartily before grinning. “Now, let’s discuss supplies.”

Vixen cheered with a small ‘yes’ at which Lace replied murmuring ‘painslut’, chuckling playfully.

“Let’s start with these.” Lace showed her hands, letting the sleeves of her shirt fall a little, exposing her wrists. “These are your main instruments.” She showed the palms, then the backs. “You can use them everywhere. You can use your whole palm, flat, for a sting and cupped for a thud.”

“What’s that?” Princess asked.

“Vixen.” Lace called.

“A sting is when it prickles and bites, a thud is when it reverberates and goes deeper. You go with a quick, fleeting swat when you go for a sting—the palm must be flat and there must be a bit of wrist game. To deliver a thud, you should let your hand cup slightly and hit hard, keeping your hand pressed where you hit. It’s a matter of angle and speed.” Vixen replied readily, as if she were being asked what is two and two.

Princess grinned and nodded. “I see. Jimin mentioned something about it, but I don’t remember clearly. Which one hurts the most?” Princess asked Vixen.

“Well, it depends. It’s a different kind of pain and it depends on one’s sensitivity. Personally I prefer thuds, because usually it’s the muscle taking most of the impact, in case of traditional, over-the-knee butt spankings. Stings make my eyes water a little, because it hits a smaller area of skin with more pressure. But it really depends on what your sub feels.”

“It is all in the way it is delivered.” Lace stated.

Vixen bit her lip, nodding, and moved on.

“Hands can be also used to slap the face, as we said,— that should be especially clarified during negotiation — but also nipples and genitalia. Also, thighs, calves, hands and feet — though in some cases they might be too mild. Always remember that it is good manners to try the toys on yourself first, especially if it’s a toy you’ve never used before. Get familiar with its weight and density and grip, so you know how it affects you before affecting your sub. Make sure to start slow and eventually intensify, always asking your sub if they’re okay in the first place. Be careful with your sub’s pain threshold: since you don’t have direct perception of how much you’re hurting them, try to increase force and pattern a bit at a time.” Lace explained.

Princess felt sure about the directions. Common sense and the guide told her the same things, which reassured her about the fact that she would remember all the complicated passages. Sure, it would be easier to have an actual practical exercise.

But for now she would make do.

“You ready for the next?”

“Yes.” Vixen replied.

Lace tutted. “The question was not meant for you, menace.” She said, reprimanding a grinning Vixen.

Princess cackled. “Sure.”

Lace picked up another object from her bag. “Here we have a paddle. It can have different shapes and textures. Some contain small indentations, or even spikes. The main features are the handle.” She showed the part. “And a flat surface, used to hit the sub. In terms of tenacity and resistance, mine has a hardwood interior covered in a leather exterior. Oh, and it’s branded.” She showed a red leather heart sewn onto the black leather cover. “It leaves a mark.” Lace smiled cutely. “Best used on wide, fleshy surfaces. Questions?”

Princess shook her head. “Oh, yeah. How much is it?”

Lace twisted the object in her hands. “A good one is around thirty five thousand won or so. If you want something that lasts and that is actually covered in true leather, the price might be higher. I could recommend a shop that sells excellent gear.”

“Thank you. Also, you said it comes in different shapes.”

“Yes. A dom in my dungeon has a pretty extravagant one in a cherry shape.”

“With a double sting?” Vixen asks, eyes almost glittering.

“Yup.”

“Amazing. I had spotted it once but I never bought it. Maybe I’ll have it commissioned.” She mused.

“Joon would?” Lace asked, eyebrows raised.

Vixen shrugged. “I just need to be good — or bad — enough.”

“See, darling, this is a brat.” Lace addressed Princess, pointing at the other girl in the room. “Their anatomy is five percent manners, five percent playfulness and ninety percent utterly smart evil.”

Vixen smiled before cocking her head to the side prettily. “Yes, that’s me.”

Princess bit her lip and smiled. Vixen was a lot more interesting than she thought. All those cute manners and polished looks could not entirely shade the dark magnetism of her eyes. She would pay good money to see what ruckus she could cause with Namjoon in the bedroom. And it would be even more interesting to see what poised, calm Lace could do to teach her how to behave.

Lace put her paddle down before fishing something else from inside her bag. “For tonight let’s cover only the basics. I’ll keep more lowkey devices for another time. Or maybe I could show you what I have and you ask me about what looks interesting to you.”

Princess nodded. “That would be lovely. Plus I’m sure you’ll have to get back to Joon since he’ll want to see you before they leave tomorrow.” Princess asked Vixen.

“I don’t know if I’ll see him— oh, that one looks lovely!” She said, looking at a riding crop from Lace’s collection and distracting herself with it. “Yeah, I told him he should stay at the dorms and rest. His week has been hectic with all the briefings for the press conferences and tv shows.” Vixen explained as she picked up the crop, studying the red, heart-shaped bit.

“Yeah, I figure. Jimin and I are meeting for an early breakfast tomorrow, before they leave.” Princess explained.

Vixen’s fleeting gaze moved away. She seemed visibly unsettled. Still, her mood changed once more as she collected Lace’s paddle from the coffee table, the other woman not even noticing one of her devices had attracted Vixen’s attention.

Vixen rolled it in her palm a couple times, shifting it to feel the weight distribution and the texture.

Princess looked at how she studied the object, carefully taking in every detail. Vixen’s perfectionism showed in that exact moment, in the undisturbed, slow way she felt every ridge and stitch with her fingers. If she could think of an adjective it was ‘thorough’, in the first place. ‘Sensual’ in the second.

Raising an eyebrow and biting her lip, Vixen opened her free hand, lifted the paddle and delivered a heavy thwack.

A shiver ran down Princess’s spine. She could almost feel how Jimin would moan after a smack like that.

Lace turned around, looking at Vixen. “Like it?”

Vixen simply nodded with a wicked smile. “Do you know what wood it is?”

“Not sure, possibly birch or cherry tree. Soft wood but very elastic.” Lace sat upright as she was done taking out all of her collection.

“And the leather is splinter-proof.” Vixen commented.

Lace hummed in confirmation. “See anything interesting, Princess?”

Princess creased her brow. “What about the riding crop?”

Vixen smiled mischievously as Lace wrapped her palm around the handle, lifting the object. “Here. This is a personal riding crop. It has been commissioned specifically for me. It’s my favourite and somehow my brand.” She smiled fondly as she studied it. “However, I would say one should never grow fond of a vulnerable thing such as a riding crop. They break fairly easily. Anyway — the general traits of a riding crop are the shaft, the handle and the tip. In terms of length, I normally recommend minimum sixty centimeters, to increase flexibility and impact strength. The shaft should be elastic, but not too much or it loses impact strength and a submissive usually doesn’t want the whoosh without the smash.”

Vixen giggled at her side.

“What is that?” Princess asked, frowning.

Opening her palm, Lace calculated the distance and whipped the leather bit hard against the soft flesh at the base of the thumb. Princess clearly recognised the sound of air whistling before she hit her skin with a thin clap. “That’s what I meant.”

Princess nodded with eager eyes, keeping an amused silence.

“Fiberglass is a good material for beginners. If you’re buying one in person — which I recommend for the first time — make sure that it can make a forty-five degree angle when you bend the tip towards the handle. A forty to fifty degrees with a fair amount of resistance means it’s flexible enough, just make sure that it’s not too close to the breaking point. The handle is normally made of leather or very good rubber to improve the grip. Some cheap riding crops — also, the ones not intended for BDSM purposes — come with a strap to slip your wrist into. I recommend you don’t use the strap or that you remove it completely because first, you shouldn’t need it and second, you should avoid everything that keeps you from interrupting the scene and comforting your sub as quickly as possible. Sometimes even a couple seconds can be very important when it comes to subdrop. Remember this at all time, in all scenes. Remove everything that could keep you from helping your sub.”

“Okay. But if my riding crop falls?”

Lace smiled darkly. “Trust me dear, you’ll hold on to that as if it were the sceptre of England.” Princess laughed. “And if it falls, it’s usually a sign of poor mastering of your tools. Train yourself. You can use a dense pillow to learn the variety of strokes that a crop can deliver. It can be used for sensation play, simply rubbing your sub’s skin, caressing it, spending some time to arouse them before the whipping starts—”

Vixen purred at that.

Princess thought of Jimin biting his plump lips, eyelids fluttering at the gentle touch of the leather tickling his body.

“Are you with me?” Lace called for Princess’ attention, an amused grin on her face. Lace almost wanted to congratulate her for staying focused for so long.

“Yeah, just — thinking.”

Lace exhaled and wore a grin on her face. “I get that. Let me just finish this and we can take a pause. The tip is the important part of the crop. Mine has a fancy, heart-shaped tip, however, the best standard ones have triangular or rectangular tips that are a couple fingers wide on the very tip and restrict around the head of the stick.”

“Sounds nice.” Princess said.

“It is.” Vixen mused. “As Lace said, riding crops aren’t excessively difficult to use, if one has the patience to learn the basics and take some time to experiment. They can offer plenty of freedom to the dom in terms of use since they can be incredibly harsh, but also extremely light and gentle. You can use them on most spanking areas: breasts and nipples, feet, thighs, ass, shoulders and genitals, both male and female. Also the face, if you’re being light-handed enough.”

“Jesus, you’re wicked.” Lace snickered.

Vixen shrugged. “Says you.”

Princess looked at the exchange quite amused. “Okay. I think I got it. Oh, isn’t that a flogger?”

“Yes, it is. But that is for your sophomore lessons. For now, let’s stick to the beginner deals.” Lace said, slowing down Princess’ enthusiasm.

“Oh.” The other answered, taken aback.

“The bigger the toy, the more difficult it is to use it. Floggers, also called multi-tailed whips, are unpredictable because the whips are really flexible, usually made of leather, and very light. You must have excellent wrist flexibility and great spatial awareness. Once you can use your crop with your eyes closed, then you can consider learning the basics of flogging.”

“Okay. I assume canes and that fancy thing over there are off-limit too.” Princess noticed.

“Isn’t that a cat-o-nine-tales?” Vixen said, wide eyed. “It’s been years since I last saw one. Since my training.” Vixen shivered. “He had silver studs on the tips.”

“Did he ever use it on you?” Lace asked, very serious.

“Once. I didn’t speak to him for a week afterwards.” Vixen said, gaze empty. “I’ve never seen one like that in my life, though. Are those flowers?”

“Yes.They have a silver bead in the middle with some petals around it. The effect is very unusual, or so I’ve been told.” Lace answered with a chuckle. “It was a gift from one of my students. Lovely girl. Kinkier than hell.” Lace smiled and took the toy. “See. Those are meant to hurt. Mark or scar even, in some cases.” She showed the appendage to Princess.

“I don’t like that.” She replied with tiny hesitance.

“The cane is also a vicious one.” Lace suggested.

“The first time I safeworded was with a cane.” Vixen said with a meditative smile. “It hurts like hell. Normally I can take around forty to fifty spanks. I couldn’t handle ten with a cane.”

“I don’t think I like that either. My favourite so far are the paddle and the riding crop. I think Jimin likes the paddle, or at least the idea of it. The riding crop is… for personal reasons.”

“Excellent choice.” Lace grabbed a glass of water and drank, easing her mouth and throat after all the talking. “A riding crop can really gratify a dom at their first experience. You can study it, if you want to.” Lace encouraged Princess to hold the toy and look at it from up close.

Princess thanked her before lifting the crop from the table. “It’s very light.”

“Indeed. It’s a lot lighter than a paddle, that’s why it’s a personal favourite to most female doms. Plus it can be used to praise and to punish, making it a tool of great versatility.”

Princess studied the handle, with a thick leather band wrapped around the stick to grant a good grip. Lace, previously standing, bent down behind Princess. “The leather has been treated so to reduce any slipping.” She corrected Princess’ grip around the handle, placing her hand wrapped tight around it and fixing her thumb. “Like this.” Next, she placed the tip on the flat of the opposite hand. “Always make sure that there are no loose stitches here. Make sure that the spot where the tip meets the stick isn’t rough or hard or juts out in a way that could cut the skin.” She fingered the spot, tracing it. “Also remember to check the flexibility, see?” Lace made Princess’ fingers wrap around that spot, making her push it towards the butt of the handle. The sensation was extremely elastic, with a bit of give still, but far more resistance. “That is good elasticity for a versatile crop. Try it on your forearm.” She suggested, pushing Princess’ shirt upwards.

A bit hesitant, Princess lifted her dominant arm up. Lace corrected her stance, repositioning her elbow. “You only need to do a slight rotation of your forearm for now. Keep your elbow still and smack your forearm down, like you were arm wrestling but with more snap.”

Princess nodded, her eyes closing before she let her arm snap. First she heard the ‘whoosh’ of the stick cut through the air, and then the snapping sound, like a dry cracking.

“Good one. Did it hurt?”

Princess tutted. “Not too bad. The bite was pleasing.”

The sound awakened Vixen from her trance. She had been staring at the paddle for a few minutes, thinking.

“Try using it feather-light now. Like it was a make-up brush on your skin.” Lace placed the tip of the crop on Princess skin with the lightest pressure, the touch so soft that the tip didn’t even bend a little to accommodate the skin. It was simply lingering, grazing.

“I really like it. I think I’d love to own one.” Princess said enthusiastically. “Would you come with me if I go buy one?” She looked up to her friend.

“Yes, sure. You have my number, we can arrange someday this week, or whenever you like it.” Lace smiled genuinely. Her cheeks puffed up in round apples.

“I think you should check on Vixen.” She whispered.

The girl was being too quiet. It meant she was thinking. Overthinking, if Lace knew her friend well.

“Are you okay?” Lace moved towards Vixen, looking at her vacant stare, her skittish mood and the insecure nibbling on her lower lip.

“Yeah, I was just thinking...” Vixen replied, still unfocused from her surroundings. “I don’t know if Princess is okay with this. It’s her home, after all.”

“What is it?” Asked the other one, immediately alarmed.

“Would it be awkward if we tried a small simulation? Not a scene, just an exercise. For practice.” Vixen proposed. “If you’re all okay with it.”

Lace studied Vixen’s expression. “What about Namjoon?”

“I could ask him. I think he’s awake, I’ll text him. Ask him if it’s okay with him. This is nothing sexual. It’s just for learning purposes.” Vixen shrugged.

A part of Princess’ brain was already seeing it happen, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “If it’s not too much of a bother, I think it would be really helpful to me if you and Lace tried. I don’t think I want to do it myself, but I’d like to watch.” She admitted.

“Are you in the right mindset to do this, sweetie?” Lace asked. “You’ve been on mood swings the whole night. Are you sure?” Lace asked, seriously concerned.

“Yes, I’m sure. Trust me,” Vixen said, reassuring her friend with a kind smile. “I just need to ask Joon.”

Lace thought about it. Doing such a thing with Vixen of course could be extremely helpful to Princess, showing her how a scene worked, however Vixen’s mood swings suggested that she was looking for reassurance, that she was hoping someone would literally spank her negative thoughts out of her. She probably wanted Namjoon instead of Lace, but maybe this mechanism of simulation and education was what she needed to rein in her insecurities. Vixen was a smart woman, extremely aware of her emotions and the mechanisms to handle them. Lace decided. “Okay. Call him.”

“Let me grab my purse, then.” Vixen stood up and reached for her phone at the dining table. “Thank you”, she said to Lace before unlocking her phone and finding Namjoon’s number on her shortcuts.

“Put it on speaker.” Lace told her.

The three women waited expectantly as the ringing echoed through the small room — Lace with cold ice settling in her veins, Princess with ebullient anticipation and curiosity, Vixen with a certain emptiness in her gaze, her free hand toying with the small pendant laying between her collarbones while she rubbed the flat of her upper chest.

The ringing stopped, followed by a couple seconds of silence.

“Hello?”

-----------------------------------------------

Part two here

#bts blog #the Girlfriends #introducing the girlfriends #bangtan sonyeondan #bts fic #Bts smut #bangtan smut #Introducing vixen #introducing princess #Introducing lace #namjoon x reader #namjoon x vixen #jimin x reader #Jimin x princess #taehyung x reader #taehyung x lace #bts fanfiction

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ghostbustermelanieking · 4 years ago

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Wow, they actually don't say whether the Web wanted to spread to new worlds! I'm shocked. Yeah, honestly, season 5 could do with a lot of restructuring, maybe even be a half season considering the allure of the apocalypse started losing it's luster once we hit all the domains once. The last fiveish episodes for sure had big pacing problems, I remember how much energy there was going into episodes 194-197, but Annabelle's explanation ended up being pretty straightforward, and after that everything felt sort of like a limp shuffle to the end. C'est la vie.

if i'm remembering right, i think the rationale was like... the web didn't want the apocalypse, but figured it would happen anyway, so it orchestrated it in order to spread to new worlds? except the apocalypse literally never would've happened without the Web. jonah says this in 160. i think this hole could've been explained if it'd been more about the spreading than the escaping the apocalypse, but i don't think it ever really hinted around that? so... idk lol.

i definitely agree that s5 has a pacing problem, i think it's the biggest issue the season honestly has. i hate how half the season feels overly slow but then the end feels rushed? i honestly wonder if the ten episodes pre apocalypse and then having the apocalypse mid season would've been better -- people have discussed this better than me, and i do think that wouldn't have coincided well with covid (and i still wonder how much covid has affected the season as a whole, it clearly took a toll). but in terms of "no stakes," i feel like the apocalypse lost its stakes kind of fast, too. (personally i always liked the symmetry of 15 domains exactly, and while i do think storylines like martin's domain were interesting, i also think act ii definitely lost some momentum.) i had the thought yesterday that the end of s4 feels very big -- the panopticon, the Lonely, and the apocalypse -- in a way that s5 doesn't, until the very end, and i wonder if saving 160 -- imo the absolute best episode of the show, definitely responsible for setting my expectations too high (this is absolutely my own fault lol but) -- for the final season would've worked a little better. of course, i don't think what we got was ALL bad. i love the ending, and the majority of 200, but i definitely think the lead up was sort of messy. like i said, the ending feels rushed at times, and it absolutely did not need to be. 190-194 was one of the best run of episodes this show has had, and i wish that momentum had stayed that strong up until the end.

i usually avoid talking about what i didn't like about the end of tma, mostly because i don't like being super negative about a thing i really, really love, and i tend to be weirdly positive about said things in an attempt to make do. (funnily enough, i've been positive about a lot worse things than tma lol.) and it's weird because i DID like the ending -- i absolutely love how 200 left things. i fall sort of in the middle, i think. i don't hate s5, and i don't regret getting it (it's probably still my 3rd favorite season just because i enjoy the character stuff so much -- it's a nice balm to the "everyone is sad" of s4). and hearing more about how covid affected how the show ended has definitely made me a lot more sympathetic -- i can't imagine ending a project this big, with this much care put into it, in the middle of this mess. but i do definitely think that s5 was messy in a lot of places. (and the critical part of me can't help pointing it out every now and then lol.)

#i spent s5 waiting for them to top 160 lol which i think kinda ruined my perception. that and people predicting the end so well #which is absolutely a mark of good writing and isnt anyones fault!! im envious of anyone who predicted things that well lol #i guess i just spent time waiting for things to get crazy and it never quite felt like they did til the finale #like the danger never felt real!! martin and jon get separated and mostly react pasisvely to it #jon is very panicked when martin is gone but then mostly fine when we find him dangled over web between worlds??#i guess that sort of happens when your main character is basically god lol #in their defense i can imagine it would be HARD to keep that interesting and exciting. espec for 40 eps #also pls lmk if u didnt want this to be public and ill take it down!#tma negative

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aurorawest · 4 years ago

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"More about his kinks? His rich history of sexual assault and how that messes with him? His hang-ups around physical attraction and emotional attraction? Something else that I’m forgetting to list?" ALL OF THE ABOVE! Seriously, if you wrote an essay on each topic I'd def read it, LOL, I'm so on board 🥳

I’m so sorry for taking forever to answer these. I felt like I wasn’t really giving the topic the due it deserved—I still think I could say more, and say it better, but here’s what I’ve got for now!

TW for talk about general sex stuff and sexual assault.

Section 1: Who is Loki attracted to?

Loki is bi/pan (not a label he would apply to himself, but I’m going to use it as shorthand). This is something he’s known about himself since his early adolescence. He probably was more aware of being attracted to women, just because, you know, heteronormativity. I head canon that queerness wasn’t totally accepted on Asgard when he was young, but there was a wide range of opinion and there were certainly many people that were totally accepting (amongst them, his family). And by the time of the MCU timeline, my hc is that attitudes are largely accepting. So young Loki is aware he’s attracted to men, and he’s willing to pursue that, but he’s still nervous about making it widely known. A lot of that is tied up with not feeling like it’s Asgardian enough, it’s not the kind of masculinity that Asgardians seem to prize.

My personal head canon is that Loki has been attracted to more men than women.

Section 2: When is he attracted to them?

I sometimes think that I sort of head canon Loki as demisexual (again, not a term he’d use). I see Loki’s libido becoming further and further separated from his capacity for emotional intimacy as he gets older. He gets to a point where he almost never feels attracted to someone unless he’s got that emotional connection...but he doesn’t like admitting to an emotional connection. So he’ll be like, ‘Oh, I just think he’s hot, no biggie. He just pops up in my sexual fantasies all the time, exclusively actually, and I regularly get off to the thought of him undressing—but it’s just physical! I don’t actually like him!” Like he’s fully aware that for other people, this is a thing that can be true. But it’s not true for him. In order for him to be really sexually attracted to someone, he has to have that emotional bond. Which again, he’ll deny. It’s a really healthy emotional cycle.

Section 3: Idk if it’s really sexuality but his genderfluidity

So again, I don’t think genderfluid is a term Loki would use to describe himself, and I also don’t think it’s quite the right word to use to describe what he is (just my personal hc, I of course do not have any issue at all with other people using the term to describe him). I definitely have Loki’s shapeshifting as part of his character, though I write him in his male form 95% of the time for a number of reasons, some of them related to canon, some of them more as a personal response to fanon. That’s out of scope for this ask, haha. I write him as identifying as male in his male form and female in her female form.

Section 4: Compartmentalization of sex as separate from emotional intimacy

Loki views sex, and his body, as a commodity. It’s another tool in his arsenal. He sees it as diplomacy, as a way to get what he wants, to save his life, whatever. He can and will use sex as a bargaining chip.

It’s maybe as a result of this, or maybe the other way around, that Loki doesn’t really feel sexual attraction to people unless he’s already got an emotional connection. He’s completely compartmentalized these two aspects of intimacy, to the point where he really fears the emotional intimacy that would lead to him feeling actual sexual attraction. Because he sees sex and sexual attraction as something he can control, it’s the less scary of the two. So sex is preferable to love. With sex, he can be in control (or tell himself he’s in control) of the situation, in the sense that he has consented to it in some way. But love? He didn’t consent to that. He doesn’t want to feel that. He can’t stop himself from feeling it and he can’t control who he feels it for.

Section 5: Sub/Dom?

I covered this in an earlier ask but I might as well talk about it again! My Loki is very very sexually submissive most of the time. Likes being put in his place, controlled, held down, told what to do, etc etc. He can be dominant sometimes, if the mood strikes him, but his preference is to be submissive.

Related to his nervousness around coming out, Loki very much felt like as the prince, as an Asgardian Man, there was like...a right way to have sex. If he was going to have sex with men, he was going to top. Only top. And he was going to be dominant about it. He had to be in charge, even though this really didn’t come naturally to him. So in his early sexual encounters, that’s what he did, even though it wasn’t what he wanted. This led to him having a lot of unsatisfactory sex as a young man, haha.

He also spent a decent portion of his life being ashamed of the kind of things that turn him on, because again, he thinks it’s bad optics for who he is.

Section 6: Kinks

My Loki isn’t Kinky™, he’s actually pretty vanilla. His favorite position is getting it from behind, and his second favorite position is missionary, and if he only did those two things for the rest of his life, he wouldn’t have a problem with it. He does, however, have kinks, and they are: authority and humiliation. This is kind of where the ‘very very’ comes from in ‘very very sexually submissive,’ ha. He likes feeling degraded, he likes being ordered around. Dirty talk is good, and preferably he’s being told about how bad he’s being and how he needs to be punished.

Caveat with this, which leads into my next point: he only really likes it if it’s with someone he loves. Because...

Section 7: Those kinks have fucked him up!

So part of me can’t help but think that the reason I see Loki with an authority kink is because of his daddy issues, haha. He pretty clearly has a deep need to please his father (not sexually, ew), and I think he then ends up being drawn to powerful authority figures. Thanos and the Grandmaster come to mind. I don’t head canon that anything sexual went on with Thanos (though I could be pretty easily persuaded to write some fucked up fic about it happening), but I absolutely head canon that stuff went on with the Grandmaster.

My head canon is that the Grandmaster was trying to get into Loki’s pants pretty much from the moment Loki showed up in front of him—constantly flirting, way too handsy, orgy invitations, parties with drugged drinks, the whole shebang. Loki was able to get away with not actually having sex with him, though, and always holding it out as a possibility in order to stay in the Grandmaster’s good graces. But when Thor and the Hulk fight in the arena, Loki offers sex in exchange for Thor’s life being spared (I have a fic about this, it’s called Lacuna). The sex is...not good for Loki. There’s definitely BDSM involved, and he is not into that. The Grandmaster rapes him. Repeatedly.

And...Loki is into humiliation and authority. So when he’s degraded and humiliated by the Grandmaster, and he gets off, he goes into this shame feedback loop. This is the kind of thing he likes, and if he likes it then there’s nothing wrong with what happened to him, and he put himself in the position anyway, and if he climaxed then it wasn’t assault, etc etc. He gets this way about non-sexual situations as well; like he definitely feels he deserved what he got with Thanos, and that he deserved to die on Svartalfheim because he feels responsible for Frigga’s death. He has this way of pushing blame off himself and never taking responsibility for his actions...until he does, and then he blames himself for everything.

Section 8: Yes I head canon Loki has a rich history of sexual assault

Oof, guys, Loki has been assaulted so many times in my head canon. His first experience was as an adolescent, where he almost gets gang-raped by two security guards. There were definitely other dubious to nonconsensual experiences in pre-Thor 1 times.

There are some traumatic times after his Fall:

He does some time at the Kiln, and he allows a prison guard to pretty much do whatever he wants to Loki. Loki uses this to escape.

Eventually, Loki ends up getting captured and sold into slavery. He ends up in a sex trafficking market, where he’s raped repeatedly, including gang-raped. He’s heavily drugged during this time to keep him from escaping but still has some memories of it. This is where the Black Order picks him up. They repeatedly remind him that they ‘saved’ him.

Then, of course, there’s the aforementioned stuff with the Grandmaster.

Section 9: Not that he'll ever call it that

Oh yeah but Loki will never in a million years call any of this ‘rape.’ In almost every assault, he’ll tell himself that he actually never said no, so actually, he was in control. He could have stopped it, but he just didn’t, because of Reasons. So it’s not rape. He had it under control. He did. Seriously. There’s no trauma.

He just tries not to think about the time in the sex trafficking market because he can’t really contort that into anything but what it was. If he has to think about it, usually he figures he deserved it.

I mentioned this in an ask recently, where I think one of Loki’s deepest fears is losing control. I think he really fears losing control over a situation, but his biggest fear is losing control over himself. In my hc, Loki really feels as though his grasp on his sense of self is tenuous at best; that he isn’t in control of his own mind (hello, Mind Stone, you didn’t help); that he might just do something that he didn’t plan or want to do. You know that feeling you get where you look at a window and think, What if I just jumped out? Loki really, really fears that feeling, because he’s not sure he can stop himself from actually following through. And stripping him of his bodily autonomy with sexual assault is just another way to fuck him up. Having him deny what it is because he’s so terrified of losing control adds a delicious layer of toxicity to the whole brew.

Section 10: But I still think he's capable of finding The One and having a great sex life and an unbreakable emotional bond

Having said that! Loki’s sexual trauma doesn’t actually hamper his ability to have sex. It does hamper his ability to fall in love, because falling in love is another form of losing control. I think that he could definitely get triggered by certain sexual things, but of course, I write him with Stephen, who is basically the kindest, most considerate lover ever, haha. I talked in another ask about how Loki’s humiliation and authority kinks, coupled with his lack of communication skills, lead him to expect Stephen to be a mindreader, and to just kind of...do the stuff that Loki wants him to do. But of course, Stephen isn’t going to do something that could actually cause Loki physical pain without being explicitly told to do so and receiving Loki’s enthusiastic consent. But Loki doesn’t want to communicate! Loki thinks it’s hot to just get ravaged.

My fic is about a lot of this stuff, not necessarily explicitly the sexual stuff, but a lot of the issues that are bound up with it—the control issues, the attraction to authority figures, the difficulty forming emotional bonds. Through the course of my main series, Loki is really picking away at getting better about all of this, and the endgame, of course, is that he’s able to accept being loved, and loving in return.

I feel like I didn’t articulate any of this as well as I wanted to, but I didn’t want to let this ask sit in my inbox forever, and I’ve been picking away at this now for like two weeks. So, I hope that was a satisfying essay! I could probably go on tbh, but I’ll leave it at this.

#loki head canon #loki sexuality #loki meta #loki #Anonymous

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hanawrites404 · 4 years ago

Text

You Can't Hurry Love

Show : Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Jojo No Kimou Na Bouken

Pairing : Hints of Jotaro Kujo/Noriaki Kakyoin, Joseph Joestar/Caesar Antonio Zeppeli and Jonita Joestar Brando/Dio Brando

Warnings : Mild Homophobia and swearing

Characters : Jonita Joestar Brando (OC), Holly Kujo, Jotaro Kujo, Noriaki Kakyoin, Joseph Joestar, Mrs. Kakyoin (Noriaki's Mother)

Timeline : Pre-Stardust Crusaders

This story is based on this song :

And this story is also based on the author's dream when she was sleeping in the afternoon after studying physics.

Also, here is a link if you don't know who Jonita is

Third Person POV

It was morning in Japan, winter was about to end and trees were slowly recovering after shedding their withered leaves by growing lush green ones in their place. Innocent birds awakened by the first rays of the sun started chirping their favourite song, the fellow humans waking up to their melodious vocals. Well, except for one.

"Jonita-san~!! Wake up, it's eight already!!" the lady of the Kujo's residence yelled from the kitchen. The lady had her favourite apron on and was making breakfast, her golden hair tied in a loose bun and her hands working skillfully as she prepared the morning delicacies.

The one who was known as Jonita, though sleeping in the room two doors away from the kitchen, heard the lady clearly, but all she replied to it was a groan and a snort, and she let her head down abruptly onto the pillow and fell asleep once again.

"Jonita san~~!!" The blonde lady called her once more, but still the sleepy-head gave no response. The lady then sighed and shook her head. Though it had been 3 days Jonita came to stay in Japan, she still wasn't used to her sleeping schedule.

The lady had already given up on waking the stubborn girl up, until a young boy ran with his sock-clad, little feet into the girl's room. He giggled, and sat beside her head, and started to ruffle the sleepy girl's violet locks with his little hands, which finally made the girl slowly open one of her eye and smile at the boy.

"Good morning Jotaro" she said sleepily. "Morning Jojo!!" the boy named Jotaro giggled once more. Jonita grinned and got up from the futon, fully awaken, and sat cross-legged. She then lifted Jotaro up and made him sit on her thigh.

"Did you sleep well, Joot??" she asked the child as she caressed his soft raven locks. "Yeah I did, and I dreamt of the ocean" Jotaro replied with a certain pride in his tone.

"Again?? You really seem to love the ocean, huh??". Jotaro grinned and nodded vigorously. Jonita giggled and ruffled his hair.

"What about you Jojo?? What did you dream of??". "I dreamt of my children. All of them were playing in the garden while me and my husband were having a picnic under a huge tree as we watched our children having a good time. I wish it comes true one day" Jonita ruminated.

"Hmmm......Well, thinking of dreams is making me feel hungry. I bet Mama has made something good today". "Boy, she always does. Holly's cooking is worth dying for".

Jotaro then got off Jonita's thigh and quickly ran towards the kitchen to get the bulletins of today's breakfast menu. Jonita then stood up and folded her futon, remembering how Holly taught her to do so. She then stretched herself and started to get ready for today.

After she had changed from her pyjamas to purple track pants and red full-sleeve cropped hoodie and combed her hair nicely to let it down, she then made her way to the dining room.

"So you are finally awake, Jonita-san" Holly commented. "Yeah, sorry. I had a really good dream and I didn't want to wake up" the purplenette rubbed her neck.

"Was it about your husband again??" Holly asked. "Yeah. I just miss him so much. It has been years since I have seen him" she said as she sat down to have her food.

"Hmmm....I wonder when I will fall in love madly with someone as you have" Jotaro told her as he settled his head on his palms.

Jonita choked on her own saliva as soon as she heard Jotaro say that. She then clears her throat and replies.

"D-Don't you think you are too young to fall in love with someone, Joot??". "B-But I'm 7 years old!! Is that not enough??" Jotaro asked.

"I-I guess but, for falling in love with someone, you will need time. Love is when two people like each other so much that are ready to sacrifice themselves just for the well-being of their lover. In order to love a person, you need someone to whom you feel a certain attraction".

"Certain att-rec-sion??" Jotaro tried to pronounce the word. "Yeah". "But where will I find such a person??". "You will have to wait, Jotaro. You cannot hurry love, always remember that".

"Alright everyone, eat quickly before it gets cold" Holly clapped her hands. Jotaro and Jonita said their prayers in Japanese (Jonita had to learn it otherwise Holly never left her alone) and then started to eat their breakfast.

"Jonita-san, you do remember that you have to take Jotaro out today, right??" Holly asked. Jonita stopped chewing her omelette and looked at the blonde lady hovering over her. She then grinned stupidly at her, the omelette still inside her mouth.

Holly sighed and crossed her hands.

"You forgot, didn't you??".

Jonita swallowed the food she had in her mouth and said "Forgot?? No No, I was just......caught off-guard, that's all" she argued, but Holly didn't take that.

"Listen Jonita-san, Jotaro is at a growing age, and if he doesn't get any exercise, I'm afraid he might become very weak when he grows up, and you are the best person who can get him into some good physical activities" Holly said worriedly.

"Don't worry Holly, Jotaro is of the Joestar bloodline. There is no way he would ever grow up as weak. Even if he doesn't workout, he would still grow up to be as buff as a bull" Jonita caressed Jotaro's raven hair as she smiled at Holly.

Holly sighed once more and looked at Jonita with pleading eyes and a frown. This made Jonita drop her stupid grin, and soon she admitted defeatedly while letting out a big puff of air from her mouth.

"Fine. Exercise, right?? I will make him do it".

By hearing that, Holly got to her usual cheery self as clapped her hands once more. "Okey-Dokey!!" and then she twirled into the kitchen while humming a tune.

Jonita giggled as she ate the last piece of her breakfast. Jotaro too had finished his food and Jonita collected both of their dishes to keep it in the sink.

"Listen Joot, I'm giving you 10 minutes. Get into your best attire as we are going out to practice" Jonita spoke as if she was taking Jotaro out for a war.

"Yes ma'am!!" the boy saluted the purplenette and ran to his room. Jonita smiled to herself. She was sure that Jotaro would grow up to be a very cheerful and bubbly person, just like his mother.

A few minutes later, Jotaro arrived with a white full-sleeve shirt and black short suspenders on. However, Jonita bursted into a fit of laughs as soon as she saw the young boy.

The reason was because Jotaro had worn the shirt inside-out and over the suspenders. Also, his black hair was in a tangled mess as compared to before.

Jonita then kneeled in front of him and started to correct his attire, starting from removing his shirt.

"You should have called me to dress you Joot" Jonita told him. "But I wanted to show you that I'm not a little boy anymore and that I can dress myself" Jotaro pouted.

Jonita chuckled as she finished correcting his outfit. "You are 7 Jotaro, Not 17".

She then ran her palm against Jotaro's head to smoothen his short hair. However, there were some curly ends which were impossible to straighten so she let them be.

"There you go. All set" she then stood up. "Ready to go, big boy??". "You bet I am". She then grinned and then both of them got into their shoes.

"We will return soon Holly!!" she shouted. Holly came to the door with high speed and hugged Jonita hard which made her tumble a little. "S-Stop...I can't breathe" Jonita giggled. Holly then lets her go as she smiled at her.

Holly then gave Jotaro his goodbye kiss. "Mom, I'm too big for goodbye kisses now" Jotaro pouted. "But you will always stay small for Mama, Jotaro" Holly replied. Jotaro blushed and looked at the ground.

Jonita then chuckled and exited the house, Jotaro following her. Both of them waved to Holly and she waved them back. "Come back soon!!" she said, and then she went inside, picking up another tune.

*30 minute time skip, brought to you by Everything is a Cake*

"OK, that's it for today" Jonita informed. Jotaro fell on the ground with a thud as he finally dropped his plank position and let out a puff of air from relief.

"You did a great job Joot. Don't you feel good??" Jonita asked the tired boy with satisfaction in her tune.

"No" the boy replied breathlessly.

"No?? What do you mean 'no'??" her smile dropped. "I'm really tired Jojo" The boy told her.

"Already?? Your grandfather was more active than you when he was 7 years old!!" she stated.

"And second of all, all you have done today is 15 situps, 30 pushups and 2 minute plank hold. Joseph on the other hand used to do twice as much as you have!!".

"Why do you always compare me with Grandpa??" Jotaro gained some strength to sit cross-legged and rubbed off the mud on his cheek.

"Because I want to make you stronger than him, Joot". Jonita then lifted Jotaro up on his feet. She then dusted him off and cupped his cheeks.

"Jotaro, you are the successor of the Joestar bloodline, so you need to be strong. Your mother has the right to be worried about your health as many obstacles will come in your way and you have to be strong to battle them all. Understand??"

"Hmm" Jotaro nodded. Jonita then smiled and kissed Jotaro's forehead. She then stood up and asked the young boy.

"Since I'm happy with your progress, how about we go and get some ice-cream??". Jotaro's mood turned brighter and nodded vigorously with a big grin. Jonita chuckled and then lifted him up, keeping his head on her shoulder while supporting his bottom with her hand.

"To the ice-cream shop then!!!". "Hai!!!!" and then they both sprinted towards the nearest shop.

*Two minute time skip, brought to you by Wide Putin*

"Are you really saying the truth Jojo??". "Yeah. Your grandfather once dressed as a woman in order to sneak in the military base". "Did it work??". "Ehh, almost. But it looked pretty obvious that it was a man dressed up as a woman. I mean, in those days, women with big muscles were not a thing, not to mention the guards were a bunch of perv--AAAH!!!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry Dear. My child didn't mean to hurt you deliberately". A woman with cherry red hair was holding the hand of a boy with the same hair colour. It looked like the boy was the lady's son. The only difference was that the boy had an exceptionally long, wavy bang which was almost as long as his face.

The redhead had kicked Jonita's leg so hard that she almost dropped Jotaro, but instead of being angry at the kid, she was actually impressed that the boy being so young was able to make a grown-up adult stumble.

Setting her thoughts aside, she gave a weak smile to the lady and said "It's alright". The lady too smiled at her and then she continued to walk with her son to the opposite direction.

"Are you OK Jojo??" Jotaro asked the girl. "Yeah I'm fine" she replied. She let Jotaro down and started to rub the area where the boy had kicked her.

"Say, are you OK Joot?? You didn't get hurt, did you??". "N-No, I'm fine" Jotaro looked the ground.

Jonita raised her eyebrow at him. Something was wrong with Jotaro. He didn't usually behave like this........unless he was very flustered.

"Jotaro". "Y-Yes??". "Are you blushing??". "What?? N-No I'm not" Jotaro tried to cover his cheeks with his hands. "So you ARE blushing" Jonita stated. She then scooted closer to Jotaro and asked.

"Tell me, is it because of that boy??". Jotaro's eyes widen as he tried to hide his face from the purplenette.

Jonita then made a smug face and asked "Love at first sight huh??". "S-Stop teasing me Jojo" Jotaro whined. "I'm not teasing you. I'm just saying the facts".

Jotaro them blushed more than before. Jonita tried to hold her laughs but she couldn't, and she began to giggle at Jotaro's cute behaviour.

"Anyways, Joot". "Hmm??". "Wanna know if he likes you back without asking him??".

Jotaro was now full red. He looked at Jonita and asked "I-Is it really possible to know that??". Jonita nodded with a smile. "It's a very old trick but it's very accurate". "S-S-Sure. Let's try it then".

Jonita smirked and then made Jotaro face the direction where the redheads were going. "OK so, you can see the boy walking, right??". "Yeah".

"The thing is now that Joot, if he has fallen for you, he would turn around and look at you" Jonita spoke. "And that's it??" Jotaro looked at her. "Yeah" she replied. "OK" Jotaro shrugged.

"Oh you just believe in me Jotaro, he will definitely turn back at look at you with those innocent eyes". "S-Stop it Jojo". "Sorry".

The redheads didn't show any sign of stopping as the kid walked slowly along his mother.

Turn around.......

Jotaro and Jonita watched each and every step they took, looking for at least a slight clue.

Turn around......................

They had almost reached to the end of the road and still there was no sign. The Joestar and the Kujo still stared at them. They were 100% sure that the boy was going to turn back. And guess what happened...........

Turn around, Dammit!!.............

The little boy finally shifted his body back to look at the two who were staring lasers at him with his big, amethyst eyes, showing curiosity and..........longing. A light blush was visible on his fair cheeks as he gazed at the young ravenhead.

Jonita gasped and fell backwards to the ground, not caring about getting hurt. She then screamed on top of her lungs.

"MY BABY IS IN LOOOOOOOOOOOVE!!!!!!!"

The redhead laughed at the silly lady's reaction and tried to cover his laugh with his mouth. The mother however was taken aback by the immature girl's behaviour as she turned around and cringed.

"What a weird mother. No wonder why she looks so young. She must be a teenager mom" she said to herself.

Jotaro had lost himself in the redhead's violet eyes as he locked his own green ones with the other boy, but soon snapped himself out of it and waved at the redhead with a grin. The young boy's blush grew more as he returned the wave with a small cute smile.

"Come on Noriaki, look forward otherwise you might trip yourself". The boy whose name was Noriaki turned his attention to his mother and followed what she said. After that, they completely vanished from Jojo's eyesight range.

"Y-You were right Jojo. How did you know that it will work??" Jotaro asked with amazement. "I have lived for more than 500 years Jotaro. How can I not know about love??".

Jotaro chuckled and then pushed Jonita up again. She then dusted herself and then spoke. "Let's tell your love story to Holly first after we get some ice-cream". Jotaro nodded and followed Jonita to where they were going next.

*Five minutes time skip, brought to you by Baby Yoda*

"HOOOOOOOOLLLLLLLYYYYYY!!!!!!" Jonita sprinted into the Kujo's residence in search of the blonde lady.

"Jonita-san, is everything OK??" Holly came out of a random room and asked her. As soon the purplenette spotted blonde hair, she lunged at Holly and gave her a death hug while lifting her up.

"J-Jonita-san, what happened??". "Jotaro........he is in love!!!". "What, really???" Holly's eyes brightened up. Jonita nodded, confirming her statement.

Just like Jonita, Holly gasped from happiness and hugged Jonita with a high-pitched squeal, and then they both jumped round and round squealing like high-school girls.

"So who is the lucky girl??" Holly asks. "Well, it's a boy, actually" Jonita replied. Holly's smile dropped a little. "A boy??" she asked. "Yes" she replied. "I-I see" Holly tucked a strand of loose hair behind her ear.

"Mama mama, I'm in love!!" Next was Jotaro who ran to his mother and hugged her. Holly hesitantly wrapped her arms around Jotaro as he started babbling about how good-looking his love interest was.

"And he had those pretty purple eyes. They were like the colours of pansies. And his hair was so red. Even the reddest of apples were nothing in front of him. His smile was the best thing of all".

"That's really......nice, Jotaro". By hearing her reply, Jotaro looked at his mother with a little disbelief. She sounded disappointed, he thought.

"I-It's really good to fall in love but, with a boy?? It doesn't seem normal to me". Jotaro let go of her mother as he backed away from her. Was his ears deceiving him?? Did his mother just called him.........adnormal??

"Jotaro I.....I got to talk to Papa. You stay here with Jonita-san. If you are feeling hungry then there is food in the kitchen. I'll be right back" she then went away to the opposite direction without saying anything else.

Jonita just stood where she was in shock. She didn't expect Holly to react like this. She was literally standing there, praying that all she just witnessed was a bad dream and nothing else.

PART 2 :

#jojo oc #jojo original character #jojo's bizarre adventure #jotakak #jotaro x kakyoin #jojo no kimyou na bouken #Spotify #Youtube #jotaro kujo #noriaki kakyoin #holly kujo #jojo fanfic #what I wrote

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gascon-en-exil · 5 years ago

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I'm genuinely curious about your "Black Eagles most to least favourite" list.

Here you are.

#1: Hubert

Could there be any other? I remember back when there was a promo introducing the house retainers (well, Lorenz for the Deer) and everyone was saying that Hubert looked so obviously evil that there had to be some deeper explanation, that someone who took design cues from a two-dimensional villain like Fates’s Iago couldn’t possibly be Edelgard’s retainer. Then the game came out, and we all realized that Hubert was exactly as advertised and then some: a cold and calculating murderer and war criminal with his fingerprints all over almost every terrible thing that happens over the course of the story, as comfortable with chloroform and a razor as dark magic and down to perform unspeakable experiments on innocent civilians to turn them into war machines and then backstab his co-conspirators because he will suffer no rivals for his title of the Most Evil Man in Fòdlan. And yep, he looks like Dracula and Severus Snape had a one-night stand and their mpreg love child went to an anime convention...but when Ferdinand looks at Hubert he sees Mr. Darcy and the Phantom of the Opera and Edward Cullen/Christian Grey, and soon enough that snake in Hubert’s breeches will be singing quite the aria indeed. You do you, Ferdinand.

Ok, I’ve already rambled at length on Hubert’s bisexuality and the interesting things it reveals about both him and his two primary love interests, but I do also have to admire the sheer audacity both of Hubert as an incel/Nice Guy-flavored romantic false lead for Edelgard who never had a serious chance because of the self-insert fantasy and of the decision to follow that up with a trope-laden queer romance that perfectly counterbalances Hubert’s attraction to Edelgard and puts Ferdinand firmly in the place he was destined to occupy by choosing to side with the Empire. It’s nearly as outrageous as just how casually evil Hubert gets to be, as well as the immense potential for dark humor that lies with that. You have to bend over backwards to say that Hubert isn’t unapologetically, irredeemably evil, and if you try there will be significantly more fans just waiting to tell you that you’re wrong - myself included. He’s the Manfroy to Edelgard’s Arvis but so much than that, and I look forward to the point in the CF postgame where he effectively takes over the Empire in true evil chancellor fashion and unleashes the full extent of his horrors upon Fòdlan. He somehow got even better in the DLC too despite being absent from CS and getting no new supports, because the Abyssians in CF just can’t stop talking about his nefarious antics down there. I just can’t get enough of how good this guy is at being bad, and I love that FE gave us exactly what was advertised here.

#2: Ferdinand

Now here’s a case of the opposite, where what’s on the packaging didn’t prepare me for what was to come. If I remarked on Ferdinand at all during pre-release it was only to think that he might be part of a Christmas knight duo with Sylvain since the game looked like it wouldn’t have one of those. Early on there wasn’t much else to be said about Ferdinand; he was like Claude in that his popularity ran off a meme (except just the one rather than several), and in appearance and personality he was basically Lorenz with less ridiculous hair. But then came his supports, and his post-timeskip look, and suddenly Ferdinand blossomed into the subtext-laden fem with very bizarre taste in men - see above - that he could have only dreamed of being if he’d stuck to such well-trod ground as the Christmas knight archetype. We learn of his love for opera, his complicated relationship with his father, his worship of the hot mess diva Manuela and how he learned swordplay specifically to imitate her roles on the stage, and - yes - how some backhanded compliments and expensive gifts of tea turn him into a blushing Regency heroine. It all casts his unusually rote romances with women in a performative light (as opposed to Lorenz who is similarly performative but seems genuinely interested in the marriage market), to say nothing of his one-sided rivalry with Edelgard that brushes against jealousy over Hubert’s devotion to her more often than against romantic attraction to her, and that toys around with gendered behavior in a manner complementary to Edelgard’s own bucking of the gender status quo.

And while not to the same extent as Felix, I do appreciate that Ferdinand has two distinct arcs depending on the route - and unlike some who feel that one or the other detracts from his character as a whole I personally find that they complement each other well. In SS and if recruited to AM and VW he makes the hard choice to oppose his homeland, spending the timeskip waging a solitary battle against the Empire with his private militia and then joining back up with Byleth’s army at Garreg Mach because he knows Edelgard is in the wrong even as it pains him to depose the Adrestian emperor and leave his own status uncertain...not to mention fight Hubert, which merits a curious boss conversation as well as some extra lines in SS (plus the infamous Huge Hole™ remark that I will never stop referencing because it is hilarious) that, while not elevating Ferdibert anywhere near the level of Dimidue in terms of cross-route canon endorsement, nonetheless are suggestive of something deeper between them that exists even if they find themselves on opposite sides of a war. In CF by contrast Ferdinand gives into his craving for the title and holdings that Edelgard has just stripped from his father and embraces nationalism and his long-held ideal of what the office of the prime minister should to do as a means of justifying the Empire’s conquests. Of course in the process he also succumbs to Hubert’s, er, charms(?) and becomes the charismatic bureaucrat who is presumably saddled with the task of putting a positive spin on the Empire’s dystopian atrocities while Edelgard and Hubert do all the actual work...and Hubert does all the actual actual work, which includes a lot of murder and kidnapping and all manner of other things that he doesn’t share with his pretty lover and about which Ferdinand quickly learns not to ask. Two Jewels of the Empire, indeed.

#3-4: Edelgard and Dorothea

I go back and forth on these so I’m not going to bother putting them in a definitive order, particularly because I like them for very different reasons that are difficult to compare. For Edelgard, it would be most accurate to say that I enjoy her potential much more than her execution; she gets some meaty material to work with as a lord and as the driving antagonist of the whole game outside of CF, and while I still prefer Micaiah for female lords there’s something darkly satisfying about her need for control and domination and her utter refusal to compromise or remain stagnant...except where Byleth is concerned, and Edeleth drags her down so badly that it would be painful if I cared more about that type of strong female character. Had the game axed the self-insert obsession (even if that meant axing her bisexuality along with it) and focused on her experiences during the Insurrection as the source of her worldview and motivations I’d be inclined to like the final product far more, because that’s a hell of a lot more in line with what she actually does and conveniently also maps to the life of a real world ruler with whom I’m relatively familiar and whom history regards in appropriately ambivalent terms.

Dorothea on the other hand is someone I can relate to on a more personal level, mostly as a sex worker. She’s similar to Primrose from Octopath Traveler, both of them prostitutes and playing coy with the implications of the RPG dancer class archetype, although Primrose hits a few more of my buttons for being former nobility and being motivated by revenge. Then again, I fully understand Dorothea’s anxieties about growing old without a man to take care of her, even if she loses me (and Yuri picks up from where she leaves off) when she dips into lesbianism as an alternative option. She’s got her ups and downs for me - I love that she brings up incest kink with Caspar as opposed to this series’s usual outright incest, while I love less her strange Ferdinand supports that are suspended oddly between friendship and romance and...something else undefinable - and I don’t have much to say on her life as an opera diva except that it doesn’t surprise me in the slightest that she’s been turning tricks on the side and even got a sugar daddy to pay her way into the academy. Theatre and sex work have always gone hand-in-hand like that.

#5-7: Linhardt, Caspar, and Petra

This is why I couldn’t make up a list like this for the Lions or Deer, because most of their students would be in big clumps like this. I have no strong opinions on any of these characters; they each have their moments, but not enough to elevate them to where I actively like them or drop them down into real dislike. I suppose you could say I’m disappointed by how Caspar and Linhardt are visual allusions to Ike/Soren who do absolutely nothing else with that similarity except eloping in their paired ending...which is preceded by virtually nothing in the way of real chemistry. If I enjoy them for anything in particular it’s Linhardt’s wit and Caspar’s occasional bouts of emotional vulnerability, like his mini-arc in AM where he has to deal with his feelings surrounding Randolph’s death and then later gets an apology from Dimitri for it.

Petra is awkward all around as the game dances around her delicate political situation, and I also happen to agree with the VA who (if I recall) thought the character should have some sort of accent but wasn’t allowed to do one. (If anyone is wondering, based on her last name and Brigid being an island nation I headcanon it as a Celtic-derived culture, but as with my personal reading of Dedue and Duscur I know that doesn’t play well to the fandom at large). All in all Petra feels like a more self-aware rendition of the exotic swordswoman archetype begun by Ayra in Jugdral, but there’s clearly still some work to be done on that front.

#8: Bernadetta

Ugh. With apologies to @capriciouscorvid for explaining how even unintentional disability representation can be taken as a positive, I just don’t see how Bernadetta’s character could possibly be considered a good thing when she’s so grating in almost all of her supports and most of her story and exploration presence outside of CF. All the screaming and high-pitched pronouncements of impending death get very old very quickly, and the part where she’s meant to be romantically appealing in her neediness and isolation is as lost on me as it would have been had it stemmed instead from a massive rack. Her supposedly sympathetic backstory doesn’t help much either, as it leaves me mostly with the thought that her father is an idiot because his methods obviously did not make her suitable to be a good wife. I also don’t care for how she’s one of several characters used to soften Jeritza (and that the way she does so is I think rather insulting to people with social anxiety, to liken it to a compulsion to commit murder), or even worse that people point to her Hubert support to try and say that he’s not such a bad guy and they’d be total besties just like Ferdinand and Dorothea (another pairing that doesn’t exactly scream BFFs). I mean, really....

#Fire Emblem #FE16 #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Black Eagles

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crqstalite · 4 years ago

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"I'm so proud of you, you know that?" For a ship of your choice

not the happiest with this prompt to be completely honest, but i couldn’t think of where else to use it. will probably revise it in the future with proper shoker [that being citlali shepard/joker]. this one is mostly detailing citlali’s kidnapping by the collectors in the beginning, which is honestly kind of horrifying just from kelly chambers’ description of it. so of course, took it and ran with it. unsure what kind of content warning should be on here, so the typical blood + gore + canon typical violence.

word count: 2,650. pre-relationship citlali velasquez/jeff moreau. [platonic, sort of]

Wide green eyes, a mumbled shout. She forces the door closed behind her with a thud, even though he tells her to move, to follow him.

She doesn't, regardless they'd make it in there after him whether she went with him or not. And regardless, she wasn't putting his life on the line if she didn't have to.

Buzzing.

Eyes. So many eyes. All focused on her, darting around but always returning. Focusing. Sizing her up.

They grow closer. Multiplying. A mess of skin and boils appears behind them, towering over her biotic shield with a gun that spills it's ammo against the mass effect field while she struggles, fear flooding her body with every second the biotics tingle against her skin. Licking her skin like flames while blood bubbles up and dribbles out her nose when she shoves the field backwards.

They come back.

They always come back.

Screaming. Her own. Theirs. Her vocal cords thrumming with a shriek she hopes he can't hear. They knock her off her feet.

Her hat falls when she's slammed to ground, nose broken and head swimming.

Then nothing.

Then all over again, only in more detail.

Then nothing.

Biotics flickering. Electrical pulses up and down her spine as she tries and tries and tries to keep the shield active.

She doesn't have enough eyes to keep one on everyone. They fall around her, some screaming, some silent. No blood, just bodies on the ground with beasts above them.

Then there's nothing.

She's cold. So cold, freezing. Ice like lead in her veins as she drops into unconsciousness.

Black. Subdued senses. A fall onto something, someone.

Her eyes open to nothing. To everything. Light. Tubes. A cavern she can't make sense of.

Shepard. The crew.

Mordin. An order to get back to the ship. A promise.

The Protheans -- no Collectors.

They get a shot in when she has her back turned. Her body feels like it's on fire, her shoulder the source of the flames, but it gives her enough of a jump in adrenaline to throw out a pulse and get them off their tail.

She knows it won't stop bleeding for hours. She doesn't even want to think about all the towels that would be needed to mop it all up.

Chakwas tells her that she'll look at it when they're back on the ship.

Her lungs are burning, trying to keep up with the last few members of the crew as Mordin helps them on. There's a few soldiers following them, nothing serious.

She pulls from the well of her implant to throw back a few.

Things get sharper. Brighter. More of them and all eight of their beady, yellow eyes. Time doesn't make sense, they keep coming and coming and coming and she doesn't know what to do. Shepard's depending on her to get every single member of the crew back aboard. So she holds the position, longer and longer and longer before she's sure it's a lost cause.

They get lucky in the moment that she depletes her shields long enough to turn around. Mordin's on board, but she feels a wet dribble start in the middle of her chest when the wind is knocked out of her. Her head swims, body throbbing as her mind screams. Red paints the ground underneath her, staining her hands crimson and soaking her white fatigues through.

Hands. Talons. So many of them, roughly pulling at her shoulders as she leaves behind a pool of blood. Her sight darkens, they grab her tighter, their talons digging into her skin. Then, they're trying to shove her into a pod. That inhuman buzzing again, it fills her ears, stuffing them with cotton. She screams and screams and screams until she can't. Blood gushes out around her like an ocean, drowning her while her heart drums on, faster and faster and faster until she's sure it's about to burst.

No one hears her when the top closes over her, a filmy yellow substance that she pounds against. It closes in around her, the strangled noises coming out of her raw throat resembling that of a trapped animal.

She gasps, a cry catching in her throat as she grabs out for something, anything solid. The beat of her heart strikes her eardrums in tandem while the blood rushes in her ears. Her eyes dart around, hands gripping the arm rests before she catches a glance of the stars twinkling back at her in a dizzying array. A white blanket around her shoulders, Cerberus emblem in the corner, but not stained red. The lights are turned low, the only source of light being the soft orange from the screens around her.

She drops her head into her hands, curtain of hair falling around her as she tries to calm herself, groaning audibly.

No hat on her head, no brim to knock off. It's still gone, somewhere in the ship.

It was still real, all of it was if the bandages around her shoulder were anything to go by. It aches when she shifts it, grimacing as she leans back in the chair. Chakwas would have her head if she pulled the stitches again, so she's more careful pushing it out of where it'd been painfully mashed against the back of the chair.

It takes her more than a moment to find her voice and whisper for the AI, throat dry and cracking, "EDI-"

"You've been asleep for approximately four and a half hours, Citlali," Her voice is soft enough not to throw her sensitive senses for a loop, and answers quick enough that she's sure the AI knew what she was going to ask, "Though it is more than you've received in the few days, from your reaction and vital signs, this session was not particularly pleasant either."

"Can say that again," She deadpans, rubbing a bleary eye with a hand. Erring on the side of caution, she shifts her hair to the right, rolling her shoulder again. She bites her lip, in pain. So she wasn't exactly on the mend yet. Citlali had knocked out right around eleven that evening if the clock on her dash was anything to go by, meaning at the latest it was only four in the morning. The wound hadn't bled through her fatigues yet, so she considers it a win, "Miss anything?"

"No notifications for you from anyone aboard the ship. I did have to answer Commander Shepard's query on whether you were okay or not two hours ago. I simply responded you had fallen asleep in the cockpit, and she seemed relieved by the notion." Citlali glances over at the blue sphere, a slight smile on her face. Sounded like Shepard, she'd be happy if she just blinked every once and a while.

She blinks the sleep out of her eyes, sweat cooling on her forehead, "Thanks EDI."

"Logging you out."

She eyes the blanket again, narrowing her eyes before pulling it off. She hadn't fallen asleep with the blanket on, that much she knew and she hated them because they made her hot. That, and she'd moved her's back to the crew quarters a while ago. Either her sister brought it for her, or-

"Are you..doing alright?" Joker. His voice snaps her out of her thoughts, and she swivels her head to look at him. A friendly face, at the very least.

"Yeah. I'm fine, little out of it." She pinches the bridge of nose. Guess the work day started a few hours earlier than usual, but she could work with this, as much as her hands are still shaking and she can't snap that terrified look in his eyes out of her head, "Could ask for more sleep and less, well, nightmares, but I'm okay. Why didn't you wake me up? You know these chairs aren't exactly the pinnacle of comfort."

"EDI says you haven't been sleeping, not since the mission," He responds, uneasiness creeping into his voice, "Figured you might as well get the rest where you could."

"Not exactly a lie, I'm not a fan of sleeping in here if that's what you're trying to say," She assures him, "As for being okay, I...well I'm fine. Still here. Still alive."

He pauses, maybe considering her words. Still not a lie, she never said she was actually alright, "You don't have to be okay after that. Nothing the Cerberus manuals that I found would say you had to be."

"Don't think many have been to the center of the universe to give them the passage either, to be completely honest," She scoffs, pulling up the diagnostics from the day before. All was looking well enough that she settles back into her normal routine of scanning them for any irregularity, "Besides. We saved the day, kicked some collective Collector ass, and we're still here to tell the tale. Plus, I think you owe me something really strong and preferably expensive when we get back to the Citadel."

"Just asking, already trying to pin drinks on me," He shakes his head as the sarcasm slips into his tone, though the smile dies a moment later, "...You sounded terrified."

"Anyone would in the middle of a horror show," She rebuffs, face flushing. Had she been screaming in her sleep? Whimpering even, that much she knows she's done before. For someone reason, she doesn't want to think about the fact Joker might've heard her working through her demons in the middle of the night. Damn her lack of sleep these days.

Better question is why he's still here, but she's learned better than to question the pilot. Plus, their shift would've been due to start in a few hours anyway, "Did Shepard bring the blanket? If she did, I'll blame her for the fact I'm hot right now."

"No. That's the one she makes me keep in here. Doesn't like me falling asleep in here, but brought it in a while ago. It does actually get cold in here when you're not a biotic."

"It's not all sunshine and rainbows with that hunk of metal installed either, I'll have you know," Well that explained the different smell, wasn't even her blanket. Citlali isn't sure whether she minds it or not. She ignores the comment, "Hm. Y'know you really should ask if Shepard's okay, not me. She's been through hell and back, and then back again. She's seen some shit."

He gives her a quizzical look when she raises an eyebrow in retaliation, "Makes it sound like you haven't either. I'd be pretty stupid to think whatever was outside that door when you sent me for the core didn't warrant a few bad dreams."

"Bad dreams, sure. Still, every technical matter, I failed the exercise. Lavius would give me that 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' face if he knew what happened," Her neck cracks when she tips it to the left, "Lucky enough Shepard pulled my ass out of the fire before I paid for it."

"And yet I'm pretty sure you just saved all our lives, and lived through that. Take a little credit."

"Not sure I deserve any amount of credit."

"Look at it this way," His chair swivels around slowly to face her's, "If you hadn't been there, I think we'd all be Reaper food right now. And definitely not the good kind."

"Is this your round about way of saying thank you, Joker?" She asks, her voice smaller as she's already feeling like she's trying to fold in on herself. Why would he try to thank her? She'd said she'd hold off what she could, and yet the entire ship still got kidnapped. Citlali hadn't done anything, had saved no one. The thank yous felt like an empty gratitude, "You already said it. Once. Plus, I didn't do anything other than get my ass handed to me long enough for you to work your magic. You and EDI were the ones who unshackled her and repaired the ship from what Shepard told me. You didn't need me."

There's a palatable beat of silence before he starts again, and she's feels a little bad. Not that she's wrong, of course, but that she'd offended him in some manner, "You held down the fort, foundation builds a house, right? Plus I heard you and Mordin brought everyone back, watched out the cameras when you blasted back the group that was following you."

"Had Jack or Samara or Miranda or-"

"But you're not them, and they weren't here," He interrupts her, "I saw what you did to the ones we came across on the ship. Made me feel a whole lot better that we're friends."

"Thanks." Citlali deadpans, looking down at her hands as she flexes her fingers. Whether he denies it or not, all of the other biotics on the team would've handled it better than her. Probably would've been able to save a small group of the crew before they purged the ship.

She can't get the sound of buzzing out of her head.

"You've come a long way from that uh, disagreement, you had with Jack a while back. That's an improvement," Joker shrugs, "Shepard's proud of you. Specifically said she was surprised as hell you managed to disintegrate so many on the way out of base."

"Damn. I think I'd feel better if she didn't tell me that every time I turned around, Joker." She responds, "It wasn't me anyway. Mordin and Shepard coordinated it, I was along for the ride."

Why are her hands so cold? Had they always been that way, or is she imagining they are?

"Would it change your mind if I said I was proud of you?" His voice cracks over the word, and she looks up as he offers her a lopsided smile. The chair turns back to it's original facing, "It was impressive watching you work. Beyond impressive, really. You got every crew member back with only a few scratches to report."

She opens her mouth to argue, or at least wants to, before she instead decides that caffeine is worth more than stretching this out for another five minutes. While the dream's adrenaline is starting to fade, the entire ordeal still has thrown her off course. And, well, maybe she doesn't want to think about the fact he'd really just said that, even though he'd been there to watch it all play out, "I am, by the way. Just in case you thought I was pulling your leg."

"Thanks for the pep talk, really," She murmurs after another moment, pushing herself up to open the cockpit's doors and tousling her hair with her good arm. He couldn't change her opinion that easily, it'd haunted her for days and she's pretty damn sure it's about to haunt her for about a thousand more before she'd accept anyone's opinion of the matter, "And the blanket."

"Any time," He nods, "Don't forget -- none of those heaps of sugar you Shepards like. Sickly sweet milk cups."

She rolls her eyes, a smile tugging up the corners of her lips. For that alone, she'd probably put enough in to taste, just to bother him. Sweet wasn't a word she'd use to describe him, but more introspective than expected. If making fun of squad members while they were off the ship was introspective at all. It amused her, kept her busy when she wasn't working. Made her feel less like the outcast that she had been at Grissom. Still, he's the closest thing she's got to a real friend, squad and crew included.

When she returns, two steaming cups in hand and yawning, their hands touch just a little longer that's necessary to hand it over. There's an 'I told you so' in that smile of his when she slides back into her chair, though he immediately groans when she takes a sip of her's, smirking over the lip of the cup.

"I offer you perfectly good advice, and this is how you repay me?"

Her hands are still cold, but at least the buzzing has subsided with the inclusion of someone else here, "You made fun of my coffee choice two weeks ago. I think it's your due calling."

#oc #original character #citlali velasquez

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